#honestly it says more about You if youre taking that to be romantic or Whatever . euueuahgh

[broidobe]

𝔞𝔵𝔩 𝔯𝔬𝔰𝔢 𝔫𝔰𝔣𝔴 𝔞𝔩𝔭𝔥𝔞𝔟𝔢𝔱

requested!

⁎⁺˳✧༚guns and roses masterlist

a = aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

axl can’t help but be raw and emotional afterward.

he might pull you close, almost desperately, and murmur things about how much you mean to him.

he needs that reassurance that you’re still there with him

axl loves skin-to-skin contact afterward

once he’s calmed down, Axl might open up and talk to you about his thoughts or feelings, especially if something has been bothering him

deep down, axl carries a lot of insecurities, so he might ask if he was good enough or if you’re happy

he craves validation but won’t say it outright

b = body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

okay there’s two

thighs are a strong contender for his favorite.

he’d adore running his hands over them, gripping them, or just watching them while you sit.

bonus points if you’re wearing something short or tight—he’d have a hard time keeping his eyes (or hands) off you

let’s not beat around the bush—axl’s definitely an ass guy.

he’d openly admire it, give cheeky grabs, and couldn’t get enough of seeing you in tight jeans or nothing at all

axl knows his lips are a weapon in the bedroom.

he’d take pride in the way he kisses, teases, and leaves marks.

smirking against your skin, whispering dirty things, or giving slow, deliberate kisses, he’s fully aware of the power his mouth holds—and he loves it.

so yeah, i’d say his mouth is his favourite

c = cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

honestly? he will cum anywhere on you or in you

it’s whatever he feels like

if he wants to cum on your face? he will

your stomach? he will

d = dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

axl secretly loves being dominated or at least losing control in certain moments.

while he’s fiery and intense on stage or in public, behind closed doors, he gets a thrill out of someone taking the lead and making him feel completely vulnerable.

you pinning him down, teasing him mercilessly, or whispering filthy things in his ear?

he secretly craves those moments where he doesn’t have to be in charge.

he wouldn’t admit it outright—his pride and ego wouldn’t let him—but when it happens, you’d notice how he melts under your touch, totally undone by the role reversal. and the next day? he’d play it cool like it never happened, though you might catch that little smirk when he remembers how much he loved it.

e = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

he’s fucking experienced

but he was like those rock stars that only cared about how they felt, not their partner

so you’d have to talk with him about it

he knows what he’s doing and he fucking loves it honestly

f = favorite position (this goes without saying)

doggy style

axl would love the raw, unfiltered intensity of this position. 

it gives him a chance to be rough (if you’re into that), grip your hips, and lose himself in the moment.

plus, he’d get a perfect view of you, which he’d definitely appreciate

g = goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

he’s pretty serious

he’s a pretty dominant person that takes sex to a whole other level

and that level doesn’t include any joking around

h = hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

i think he’s like a go-bald-once-a-month kinda guy

he lets it grow out and shaves it the first of every month

and you find it hilarious how on schedule he is

yes…he’s ginger down there too

but it’s honestly so light

and guys…it’s lowkey so smooth down there

like when he grows it out…

it’s like…silk

OKAY I’M SORRY I’M DONE

i = intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

he’s really into the moment if that makes sense

he’s never too romantic

he’s very cocky and he always makes these snarky comments about how good at fucking you he is lmfao

but uhm…he can be funny

in his own way

he likes to talk in this very literal, big worded way

here's an example

you're really enjoying that, aren't you? i'm completely immersed in this experience with you, and it's incredibly exhilarating

he normally does this when he’s drunk but sometimes he’ll just…do it

and it’s fucking hilarious

j = jack off (masturbation headcannon)

oohhhh yeah

this man loves jacking off

he did it A LOT before you

but he’s cut down

but he really only jacks off to things that have something to do with you

k = kink (one or more of their kinks)

as mentioned before, he’s just so fucking dominant

BUT as also mentioned, he also has a thing for being submissive

he’s a switch (fight me if you disagree)

teasing

he’s evil with it too

he never stops teasing

denial

he never gives you a break man. how the fuck do you do it?

dirty talk god

he degrades, teases, praises

oh jesus he’s a kink god this list could go on forever

light bdsm

spanking, light restraints, and other forms of controlled pain

but nothing too painful

voyeurism

he likes the idea of being watched while he fucks you

he’s a show off

impact play

spanking, slapping, or using other implements (like paddles or whips)

but again, not very hard

power dynamics (master/slave)

it would play out in verbal commands, physical restraint, and possibly obedience

sensory play

blindfolds, restraints, or even sound-depriving methods (like headphones) to heighten other senses

l = location (favorite places to do the do)

he will take you anywhere

he doesn’t have a favourite

i mean you’re still you no matter where you are

but if he was being held at gunpoint and he had to pick?

he’d say in one of his bandmates beds

he thrives off of the risk it serves

and the bed forever being seen as “the bed we fucked on while blank wasn’t here”

m = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

oh god anything

like anything

it’s just a constant hard on when he’s around you

n = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

he wouldn’t put you in excruciating pain

total submission

i couldn’t see him completely being at your mercy

o = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

prefers receiving

because they’re quick, easy, and they feel amazing

but he’s up to eat you out at any time

he just prefers getting a blowjob

p = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

he is so rough it’s deadly

i don’t think this man has ever gone slow in his life

he’s like the definition of go big or go home

even when he’s blackout drunk

q = quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

he loves em

they fit well into his schedule

especially because he loves fucking you as much as possible

like he’ll take you during soundcheck, before the show, after the show, in the tour bus bathroom

ANYWHERE ANYTIME FOR ANY DURATION HE’S HAPPY

r = risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

he is big on taking risks

he’s never not taking a risk

he fucks you in the riskiest places ever

and he doesn’t care

he loves the thrill

and he’s totally up to experiment

he’d honestly do anything you ask

s = stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

4 rounds 30 minutes give or take

i could see him being like really used up after the first round but being so obsessed with you that he doesn’t want to stop

t = toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

never had them for himself

doesn’t have any for you

like you have ONE

and you use it when he’s not there (in which he doesn’t know)

cause he can get a bit jealous

u = unfair (how much they like to tease)

he’s fucking terrible honestly

he will gladly take 10 minutes of his time teasing the shit outta you

he’s an ass

v = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

he’s really loud

like neighbours could file a noise complaint loud

you like that, don’t you?

don’t make me wait (even though he makes you wait SO LONG)

i’m gonna take you slow (LIAR)

beg for me

do you feel me? you should (COCKY)

i could do this all night

let me show you how much i want you

i can’t get enough of you, it’s like i need you

i love hearing you moan for me

mm... you’re so tight, fuck (spoken with this throaty growl)

shit... i’m so deep in you... mmh…

ahh... right there, baby, just like that…

mmh... you like that, don’t you? Fuck...

mmh, so fucking perfect...

w = wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

axl once got super into the moment and tried to pull off one of those dramatic, slow, intense moves, but instead, he miscalculated and ended up rolling off the bed entirely, landing in a heap on the floor.

he just laid there for a second, blinking in disbelief, before cracking up.

you were laughing too, and he sheepishly said, “guess that was my big entrance, huh?” 

from then on, you two couldn’t help but giggle every time you tried to get all serious in bed.

x = x-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

he’s low key packing

7.5 inches, i couldn’t say anything otherwise

he doesn’t have a whole lot of girth

but that doesn’t mean he has none

y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

HIGH.

i think i’ve said enough.

z = zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

i think it really depends on how much he uses himself

i’d say on average, 15 minutes

[ender1821]

re: shinyduo/gempearl being so not normal about each other after life series. other anon was so right why are they freaky.

pearl is definitely just as at fault imo. gem’s excellent at innuendos and tone of voice (“your red skin is my favorite~”) but pearl’s yes and filter falls apart in front of gem. the pickles a prime example, and the ren stream disaster wedding of course. she’s also very genuine and i love that for her. but that results in crazy lines like the “love you gem. always will. even if you dont want me, ill still be there.” TO STREAM WHEN GEM WASNT EVEN THERE.

and i need to mention the latest stream. Pearl “I only get asked if im gay when you’re in the picture” and how they both have to take a minute of silence to process that flejelejwkej. whose fault is that pearl? whose fault ?? to her credit she seems genuinely confused by the extent of her actions. the most damning evidence for her straightness i fear. rip gem though, she seems to be having fun anyway.

theyre both professionals and follow up in that stream with how the fandom will always play around with them as characters etc etc. good communication, very healthy, good for them. but this post is about why they graduated from shenanigans and innuendos to 2 hours of fanservice and it doesn’t even feel intentional half the time.

as for next life series, i would be shocked if they didn’t keep up this befuddling yuri bit. theyve mentioned seeing all the tierlist maker dream team posts and pearl had to ask her chat “OTHER than gem, who should I team with” so theyre well aware demand is there. theyre fantastic as enemies and well aware of that, but they could get some scarian level drama by teaming together, and i dont say that lightly. since pearl keeps stalling pvp on hermitcraft, theyre never getting that 1v1 without cosmic intervention or a declaration of love 😭

rambling now. love to hear your thoughts xoxo

yippee i love anon rambles!!! im glad we’re all unwell

im NOT gonna go on another rant about the life series alliance situation because as i’ve just demonstrated yesterday i can literally rant. for hours. and we don’t need that lmao. at this point whether or not they team up in the next one SOMETHING will happen. i have that much faith in them. they’re bound to run into each other and do something and that’s the shiny duo connection speaking god bless

like the other anon said, i do think they can work with just about any dynamic and it’ll be insanity-inducing either way. one of my favourite things about them just as a pairing (in any context, platonic, romantic, etc.) is just the way they will drift towards one another, to be linked in a way that’s indescribable, to always carry a piece of each other with themselves wherever they wander because the influence they’ve had on the other is irrefutable— and okay yeah they’re getting way too freaky about it get out of my fan fiction-esque rant. what are you doing here. why are you like this. what. like there’s something going on when what they’re getting up to creeps more and more into being what i usually read in fics. i. hello???

i really, really want to give them the benefit of the doubt. okay. listen. for every mention of feet and poking at pearl’s straightness, there’s a chat message behind it that warranted it, i’m sure. this isn’t the post to be getting into how fans are with cc boundaries and how we’re STILL bad at figuring our tags out, but i feel like this discussion eventually HAS to touch on the fact that it’s been made clear that they don’t want to see shipping stuff, and bringing it up in chat crosses that boundary just as well. i think they’ve handled it well in acknowledging that they’re aware it’s for their characters, drawing clear lines between what they’re comfortable with and what they’re not, etc. i think just the muddled lines from people continuously bringing stuff from a fandom space up to a cc contributes a lot to why we got. whatever happened on that wednesday stream. honestly, from these instances on stream i think it’s been shown that they just find this stuff amusing, and good for them, y’know? still doesn’t mean we should be regularly poking them about ships and. well. i dunno. literally bringing it up in chat?

but still. BUT STILL. god the ways they “yes, and” each other just keep getting worse. stuff like the pickles and the wedding (and the SL ep 4 ender dragon fight! still one of the most baffling “yes, and”s i’ve ever seen from them, i swear to god) were almost completely just them. that was just them. there’s no blaming chat for gem saying “wait, i don’t have a beard” right after pearl rejects ren for having a beard, and CERTAINLY NOBODY ELSE TO BLAME when pearl takes that and literally proposes to her. that was all them. and why. girl. huh??? i do believe, at least to some extent, that pearl is oblivious to the implications of what she does/says. but that only goes so far. sorry man i can only give so much benefit of the doubt for like 2-3 streams of 2 hour fan service. good lord

i was texting a friend who isn’t into mcyt about this whole. thing. and the way i described it was: imagine being a gempearl shipper, and you’re enjoying life, driving this train with fanfics and fanart and everything’s all good… and then for some reason gem and pearl jump on the train, hijack the conductor seat and starts directing the train elsewhere. nearing the end of that stream i was questioning my life and screaming for a way off this train. that’s how it felt to me. of course i’m exaggerating but like. genuinely how did we get here

[goat-shoe]

oghhhh my god your newest fic.... im cryingggg it's so them!!! amazing work as always <333

alsooo did i catch a hint of bunnicorn there...

anon im sorry but i need to point you to my dni.

thank u for the appreciation! but Lol umm... no. capricorn x bobunny? i Dont know where you are getting that.

[reidmotif]

Between the Books

Summary: Reader is a librarian at the library Spencer frequents while he's finishing one of his degrees. They find themselves in a precarious situation when everyone's left and they're the last two people there.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: unprotected penetrative sex, oral (f!recieving), fingering (f!recieving), themes of exhibitionism, public sex.

Word Count: 3.9 k

Masterlist

Being observant came naturally to you, almost as if it was a reflex embedded into the core of your nervous system. You’d say “hello” to a new face and as if under command, your eyes would naturally drift to the small pieces of hair on that stranger’s coat. 

Dog? Cat? Freakishly large gerbil? 

Whatever it was, you couldn’t turn it off. And that’s why when Spencer Reid caught your eye, you simply couldn’t find it in yourself to look away. 

And with time, it seemed like his actions mirrored yours.

You’d taken interest in a position at a university library for the summer. The job seemed to be a welcome change of pace from the likes of hectic summer jobs you’d go for typically in the past, a position that would mostly consist of monitoring graduate-level students who were, thankfully, much calmer than their undergrad counterparts.

 For the most part, you were right. Your days were filled with reading in an air-conditioned building, looking up titles of reference books for other students, and of course, the unexpected, yet welcomed, occurrence of Spencer Reid. 

The longer you spent at the library, the more you came to learn more about him. 

Well, as much as you could learn without actually speaking to the man. 

You’d learned his name from the library card he’d brandish when it came time to check out materials. He’d frequent books about Jean-Paul Sarte, Camus, and Nietzsche, opting to stay in the same, well-lit corner by the window every time he visited. While he could come in at any part of the day, he seemed to prefer later hours, when the library would be mostly vacant. His outfits weren’t over-the-top with formality, but he clearly wasn’t in the business of dressing casually.

 You found it attractive, honestly, how put-together he seemed. 

His return-rate on books was freakishly fast, and at one point, you’d assumed he was checking out books to read a certain page or chapter for research, and would then put it back, until you found yourself properly watching him and realized, no, he actually was just reading that fast. He could finish texts that would take almost a year to cover by seasoned professors and scholars in mere hours.

 How? You had no idea. Nevertheless, you desperately wanted to learn- to know him beyond the gazes of a library hall. 

You’d decided to try your luck at speaking to the man, noticing the three books he’d chosen all seemed to have one incredibly common theme amongst their authorship. 

“Existentialist?” You ask, trying to make your tone seem polite but still friendly. 

He blinks, as if he wasn’t expecting to be spoken to, and takes a second, his gaze meeting yours. “Sorry, what?” 

“Existentialist.” You repeat, motioning to the books you were checking out for him.  “Kierkegaard, Dostoevsky, Kafka. Your books seem to share a commonality.” 

He chuckles, realizing the meaning of your words and shakes his head. “No, no. Not an existentialist. I’d like to believe the world is better than what any of them make it out to be.” 

You smile, and nod. “I’d hope so.” Your eyebrows furrow, head tilting slightly. “Why the interest then?” There’s genuine fascination in your tone, and he seems to absolutely thrive off that, his eyes lighting up as you continue the conversation. 

“I’m completing my Masters in Philosophy.” He responds. “We’ve been doing an assignment on existentialism, hence the ridiculous amount of gloom and doom in my reading.”

 There’s a pause, before he cracks a smile, and then asks you, “Romantic?” 

You look at him in confusion. It’s your turn to not get the joke. “Sorry?” 

“Are you a romantic?” He asks. When you retain that confused look on your face, he continues. 

“You’re almost always reading some variation of a romance novel here. So far I’ve counted Austen, Bronte, and I think I saw a copy of Anna Karenina on the counter once.” 

You feel a bit of heat rise to your face, realizing that in his own way, he’d been observing you as well. In a second, the tables were turned, and the lens you often used on others was abruptly focused on you instead. 

“Well, Anna Karenina is hardly a romance, I’d argue.” You say, before nodding. “But, yeah. I guess I’d say I’m a fan of romance in novels.” 

He smiles, shaking his head. “I’m not asking you if you’re a fan of romance in novels, I’m asking you if you’re a romantic.” He says, putting emphasis on the last word, as if that was supposed to provide some grand difference to the statement. 

“Just as much as anyone else, right?” You respond, still a bit puzzled at his insistence on contrasting the syntax of his statement. 

“I see.” He says, nodding, continuing to look at you, as if he was sizing you up. “I’ll have to pick up a copy of Anna Karenina sometime then. See if it’s as much of a love story as I remember.” 

“I think you’ll find it’s absolutely not.” You reply, smiling. “I believe we have a copy of it here, as a matter of fact, if you’re actually interested.” There’s a hint of skepticism in your tone, wondering why he seemed to be taking so much regard to your conversation.

“Of course I’m actually interested. You seem passionate about the subject.” He counters, grinning. 

“I mean- yeah, I am! It’s a pretty misinterpreted book, I think.” You say. There’s a slight moment of silence, before you find yourself saying your next few words. “I’m also surprised you’re interested. I’m not always sure if it’s up everyone’s lane. Lots of people can’t get through it.” 

“I’m sure the least I can do is try.” He says, shrugging. 

You check out the last of his books, placing them in his outstretched hands. “Honestly, I’m even more surprised you noticed. You seem pretty into it in your corner over there.” You say, half-jokingly, but with a hint of seriousness mixed into it. 

He gives a softer smile, almost boyish, as he replies. 

“You’re pretty hard not to notice.” 

He keeps the smile on his face, giving you a slight nod of his head, before leaving you to deal with the sudden heat that had risen to your cheeks as a result of his words. You couldn’t find it in yourself to respond to his quick wit in the moment, your heartbeat still racing long after he’d left. 

Over that summer, the two of you get continually closer. To your absolute delight, he does end up reading Anna Karenina and better yet, he agrees with you. You immediately take an even stronger liking to him than before. Thus starts your tradition of recommending books to each other, the two of you discussing them when he’d come to the library, almost like a secret, private book club that only you two were privy to. 

You come to learn more about him. His doctorates, his job. The secret of his inhumanely fast reading was revealed to you later down the road, when he explained the abilities of an unconscious mind.. or something. While you wanted to give your undivided attention to him, there was an unspoken part of you that couldn’t help but find it ridiculously attractive when he explained things to you. He never seemed to notice that enduring part of your psyche, and you were grateful for that. 

Overall though, he made quite the friend. He shared your love of literature, and could be a wonderful listener at times. Your previous days of solitude in the library were long forgotten, and you found yourself looking forward to his daily visits, ready to share your thoughts on some book he’d last asked you to read. 

You find that his visits become less and less about the actual establishment, and more and more about you, especially when he opts to visit you at the front desk first, as opposed to over at his usual spot by the window. Somedays, he makes it obvious, not even bothering to peruse the selection of books he was previously accustomed to, and merely opts to talk to you the entire time, right up to the point where you’re locking the doors of the library and heading to your own place for the night. 

There’s a part of you that wonders why he hasn’t asked you out. You wonder why you hadn’t asked him out. It only seems natural, given how much time the two of you were spending- a date seemed like an obvious byproduct of the lingering gazes you’d catch him throw at you, the absolute joy that would bubble in your chest everytime the two of you shared an afternoon. 

You shrug it off. All in good time, right? 

It’s another night at the library, and you found yourself a bit frustrated. You’d asked your manager if there was any way she could take on the later shift of the day, increasingly tired with the hours of the job and simply needing a break from it all. She refused, and tonight, that refusal seemed to be on the forefront of your mind. 

“I just- I don’t get it, Spencer. I know she can take on this shift.” You say, wheeling around a cart of books to be reshelved, talking openly since the library was empty at this point in the day, all patrons packed up and soundly at home– while you were stuck here. 

He stayed, of course, following you around diligently as you completed the task, listening to every word.

 “I get that this is the worst shift to have, but come on. I’m a good employee, you know? I feel like I deserve a break here and there.” You come to a stop, picking up a stack of books with a huffy sigh. “But no. I’m the one who has to go home late. I’m the one who’s on closing every single night. I’m sick of it.” 

He nods sympathetically, and you continue to grovel, deeply appreciative that he was allowing you to vent to him like this. You stand on the provided step-stool on the ground, allowing you to have the height necessary to shelve some books that belonged further up than normal. 

“Like, is it really that hard?” You grumble, your face turned away from Spencer as you find each book’s proper place. “God forbid she sleeps at a later time than normal- or I don’t know, hires someone else.” The last book is reshelved, and you turn around, about to dismount the stool. “And another thing-” 

In the midst of your rant, you find yourself distracted,  missing the step on the stool that would’ve allowed a safe dismount, and you quickly realize you’re falling off, letting out a small yelp before a stronger force keeps you upright- a force that happened to be Spencer’s arms catching you. 

“You alright?” He asks with heavy concern, trying to look into your eyes or your legs, attempting to discern for signs where you might’ve hurt yourself on your descent. 

It takes a second for you to process that you are insanely close to Spencer. His features are almost enhanced by the low-lighting of the dark library, his eyes entirely dilated as he stares at you, his lips soft and perfect– and those cheekbones, god. You could practically cut yourself on them. 

You quickly return to your senses, trying to go back to a more suitable position that wouldn’t leave you so absolutely tongue tied. “No, no. I’m fine, honestly.” You step back, wiggling your leg a little. “See? Entirely fine.” 

He smiles a little sheepishly. “Sorry, I just get worried. I’m a doctor, you know.” He says, a teasing quality in his tone as he steps closer. 

“Not an actual doctor.” You say, rolling your eyes fondly. 

“Come on.” He says, letting his hand drift over back to your arm, which had taken most of the shock of falling onto him. “Humor me.” 

There’s that grin again, and you can’t help but relent. 

And so you humor him like he asked, letting his fingertips trail over the skin to properly check for any injuries, the action much more sensual than it should’ve been for a friend checking up on another friend. 

“You know.” He murmurs, his voice a bit lower than before. “I don’t actually think this is the worst shift to take on.” 

Your throat is dry, a physical reaction being drawn out of you as he touches you, and there’s a conscious reminder you actually have to respond to his words. 

“Oh? Why is that?” You force out. 

“It’s so quiet.” He mumbles out, immediately, his fingertips now tracing down to your waist, as the two of you made eye contact. “Nobody’s even in here at this point.” 

You swallow, trying to calm the rapid beat of your heart. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right.” 

“I like the quiet.” He says, continuing on. The previously feather-like touch on your waist becomes more grasping than anything else. “There’s just so much more you can get done when it’s quiet.” 

You nod and half heartedly mumble. “Mhm.” You’re far more focused on your growing proximity than his actual words, the act rendering you entirely breathless until he’s standing face to face with you, your breaths mingling due to the closeness. 

“I can feel your heart beating.” He mumbles. “So fast. Do I make you nervous?” 

You lick your lips and nod out of instinct, before squeezing your eyes shut and shaking your head. “No, no. It’s just the closeness. I’m not used to it.” You whisper, eyes opening– and his gaze is as intense as ever. 

One of his hands goes to cup your face. “Unless you tell me otherwise, I’m going to kiss you now.” 

You don’t move a single muscle. 

And then all of a sudden, he’s everywhere. He’s pulling you closer, absolutely devouring you like he’s been starved for your touch all along. His tongue slips into your mouth, and you respond in approval, humming with a deep content against his lips, your hands going to wrap around his neck, pulling your bodies flush together. You don’t want space– not now, or ever again. 

“Fuck. Wanted this for so long.” He mumbles, as soon as he breaks off the kiss, finding the pulse point on your neck, and going at it with his lips, causing you to quietly moan out in pleasure. You’d never heard him curse before, and the act only served to add to the steadily growing throb in between your legs. 

He pushes you even more insistently up against the counter attached to the bookshelves, your weight slightly more supported by the wood, as opposed to his body like before. 

“You’re so pretty.” He breathes out in between his assault on your neck, his mouth finding every inch of your nape, and marking it as his own. It’s almost like he’s hellbent on mapping out every plane of skin there, committing every spot that makes you whine or let out his name to memory.

You’re breathing so heavily, and you think it can’t possibly get any better than this, but he proves you wrong when he abruptly gets to his knees, your eyes widening. 

“Need to taste you. Please.” 

He’s begging, like, on-his-knees, doe-eyes, broken voice- begging to eat you out. 

And how could you ever say no, what, with those pretty eyes of his, and that expression on his face that made you practically weak with need?  

“Yes.” You whisper out, and in record time, he’s undoing your jeans and underwear in one clean swoop, not even bothering to fully remove the material before his tongue is all over your cunt, lapping up the wetness that had accumulated in the past few minutes. You’re half surprised he didn’t just rip your clothing off, given the enthusiasm he was showing at this moment. 

You’re suddenly incredibly aware of where you are- your place of work, a fucking library, and Spencer Reid was buried in your thighs like a man parched, lapping up wherever he possibly can. You can hear the obscene noises of your passion, his tongue lavishing over you, before he pays special attention to your clit, wrapping his lips around the nub and sucking softly.  You cover your mouth with your free hand- grateful that the wood behind you was supporting you, because without it, you truly think you’d topple over from the sheer pleasure of it all. 

“Fuck.” You whisper, voice high-pitched as you try to hold back your noises. “Fuck. Gonna come.” You warn, legs shaking as you barreled towards your release. 

Without warning, his fingers enter your cunt, and you’re fighting back a scream. 

How long had you stared at his fingers before this? How many times had you watched them run up and down the spines of the books he read, or gestured with them constantly whilst speaking? How long had such a simple part of his body captivated you? 

How many times had you secretly wondered to yourself how they’d feel inside you?

It didn’t matter anymore. You had your answer now. Fucking amazing.

“Spencer!” You whine out, his fingers naturally reaching that soft spot inside that you often struggled to even brush against. His lips find your clit again, sucking softly and you know you’re an absolute goner. 

“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck-” 

Before you can even voice in coherent terms how good this feels, you’re coming, the walls of your cunt spasming around his fingers as he relishes in the reaction, using the tip of his tongue to circle your clit, and slowing his fingers down as you ride out the remnants of your orgasm. He slips the digits out of you as he rises to his knees, and sucks on his fingers, one by one, practically moaning as he tastes your release.

The sight is downright sinful.

“You taste so good.” He whispers, crashing his lips against yours again, and you’re already needy again when you can taste yourself on his tongue. 

His hands drift down to his own slacks, undoing them and pulling his cock out, already dripping with precum. 

“You ready, pretty girl?” He murmurs, guiding his tip to your waiting cunt. You’ve situated yourself on the wood of the desk entirely now, needing the support for what happens next. 

You nod, and without even realizing he was already mostly there, he pushes into you entirely, and your jaw drops. Your head rests against  his shoulder, trying to accustom to feeling of him stretching you out so fucking perfectly. 

How could you ever fuck anyone else again, when he just felt so perfect for you? 

It seemed that he agreed with the sentiment, moaning softly as his free hand steadied himself by gripping onto the shelf. “You feel so fucking good.” He murmurs. “Can I move? Are you okay?” He asks, softly. 

His other hand rubs soothing circles into your hip bone, and you’re nodding, touched by his concern for you, even during such a salacious act. 

His thrusts are slow at first, still allowing you to get used to the feeling of him inside of you, before he’s truly going at it, his thick cock rubbing against your wet walls in a way that makes you feel light and full all at once. It's delectable, and you never want it to end. 

You whine, holding onto his neck, your head thrown back as you take it, feeling the books rattle around you with every hump he deals into you. You can’t even find it in yourself to care– all that matters right now is you, and him, and how fucking amazing it feels when he’s fucking you like this. 

You can feel yourself building towards another pleasurable release, before you hear the telltale click of the library door opening, effectively removing you from the moment. Fuck. The janitor. 

“Spencer, Spencer!” You whisper-shout, biting your lip. His cock doesn’t once slow inside you, and you find it hard to think when it feels that good. 

“We’re gonna be caught!” You whine out, dizzied by how you were simultaneously turned on and utterly panicked. 

“No, we won’t.” He whispers, gruffly. With your hands now around his neck, he lets his hand drop from the shelf and covers your mouth. He leans in even closer, if that’s possible, eyes dark. 

The sight makes a shiver go up your spine. 

“Stay quiet.” He murmurs, as he begins to deal slower, more deliberate thrusts into your cunt. 

“Feel that? Feel how I’m filling you up, nice and slow?” He whispers, the words barely audible, but with how close he’s standing to you, they overtake every one of your senses, and you nod desperately, eyes glistening as you feel yourself dancing on the precipice of release. 

“Shh. I know.” He murmurs. “Come for me, yeah? I know you want to. Show me how much you like my cock inside of you.” 

It's a combination of his tone, of the risk you two were facing, and the sensation of him that has you responding exactly the way he wants, and in an instant, you’re coming with a shuddering breath, holding back a loud whine, just like he asked you to. 

The feeling of your walls spasming has him releasing as well,  a warmth flooding in your deepest point. His head drops into your shoulder as he attempts to muffle his moans the best he can, and you both bask in the afterglow for a second, trying to pant as quietly as you could. 

Spencer immediately springs into action, redressing you with precision and care, guiding your underwear and jeans back up, buttoning them up for you. You’re still in a slight haze from the two orgasms he’d just given you, and when you properly come to, his slacks are back on, and he leans in for a much more chaste kiss. It leaves you with butterflies, despite everything,  and you find yourself smiling softly at him. The fondness reflected in his expression is undeniable.

“Let’s get out of here.” He murmurs, grabbing your hand and guiding you in between the shadows of the shelves, effectively keeping you both from being caught. The janitor remains clueless, as you two sneak out, giggling like teenagers as you find yourselves outside, the summer night warm and cool all at once. 

“That was..” You mumble, laughing a bit, surprised that had even happened. 

“I know. I- uh. Might’ve gotten carried away?” He says. “I usually like to do that after a date. I just-” He steps closer, cupping your cheek. “I couldn’t wait. I hope that’s okay.” He whispers. 

“More than okay.” You whisper back. 

His thumb slowly strokes over the expanse of your cheek, and he bites his lip. “Could we? Date? Try this out?” He murmurs. “I know I didn’t get much of a chance to say it back there, but I really like you.” 

You can’t help the chuckle that escapes you. This man had just been inside you, and now he was blushing and stuttering whilst he attempted to ask you out. 

“Yes.” You nod. “Let’s try this.” 

He’s got the most genuine smile on his face, and a sigh of relief  can be heard as he leans in again to kiss you, and you can’t help the smile on your face as your lips meet his, the elation in both of your bodies absolutely radiating inside and out. 

You recount your first conversation and know now, there was a difference between liking romance, and being a romantic. 

You reckon Spencer Reid could make quite a romantic out of you. 

this is uploading an hour later than i wanted it to :( but whatever. i hope you guys like this one <3 i'm trying something new! not first person pov, but "you" ? pleaseee let me know how this works for you guys! i love experimenting out with new fic methods but if it's clear this isn't working TELL MEEE so i can go back to what did work. anyway, any likes, reblogs, comments are so so so genuinely appreciated. thank you thank you thank you for reading either way <3

[luveline]

I would like to say that this is NOT a smut request(unless of course you want it to be but it does not matter to me), but I’d love to see hotch finding out his sister and Spencer are not just an innocent couple because I know that would be so so so funny and awkward and I’m a sucker for awkward Spencer

Aaron wants you to be happy. More than anything, he wants you to have all the things in life he himself has been lucky to experience. A well paying job that he likes, a wife, a child. He wants you to be fulfilled, even in parts of life he’d prefer you didn’t have at all. 

“Remember that?” 

He wrinkles his nose. Spencer’s leaning over you, a hand encroaching the inside of your thigh, and Aaron isn’t that kind of brother but he sort of is; he feels a mixture of horror, mild disgust, and anger at the sight. He remembers you’re a grown up and so is Spencer before he can voice these emotions. 

You’re laughing. “Remember what, Spencer? Your dire inability to make a hickey?” 

“I’m not giving you a hickey!” Spencer whispers severely. “What is with you and biting? I don’t wanna bite you, and especially not where you wanted it.” 

“Everyone gives hickeys, Spencer.” 

“Please don’t say anything else. I don’t wanna know a single word’s about who’s been doing what to you.” 

“Just before,” you say. “Spencer, it’s just a kiss. And you like them, don’t you?” 

Your laugh turns to panicked giggling as Spencer squeezes your thigh. 

It’s sort of nice. If you weren’t his sister, Hotch might say it was romantic, or at the least, earnestly human. But you are his sister, and this is ridiculous, you knew he was coming over. 

He clears his throat loudly and opens the door. 

You, to your credit, look immediately embarrassed, and Spencer —honestly, he looks like he’s going to throw up, careful as he climbs off of you but rough the moment you’re no longer touching. 

“Hotch!” Spencer says, “I–”

“You knew I was coming,” Aaron says. 

You check your watch. The breath you let out is steam. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t looking at the time.” 

“I see.” 

“This is embarrassing.” 

You stand up. When you pull your t-shirt back down, Aaron wonders if he might be better off transferring Spencer to a foreign department. But then you give Aaron one of your I’m so sorry please don’t be mad looks and he decides to let it go. You weren’t even kissing, just talking about them as you play-fought or whatever it was. If anything, Spencer was being gentlemanly. 

Well, perhaps he shouldn’t go that far. “Come on, then. This car won’t pick itself up.” 

Spencer can barely look at him as he stands. “Uh, thanks again, Hotch. For taking us.” 

“I think this one falls under older brother duties, Reid.” 

“Okay. Sorry.” 

He takes a long breath. “You should be.” 

You jab Aaron in the arm, “Stop.” 

“What?” he asks, failing to hide his smirk. 

“You know what, stop being mean. Remember that time I walked in on you and Haley in the hot tub at–”

“Enough. Do you want to go get this car or not?” 

[sunniepoo]

I NEED more of the obx/reader love islane PLEEK 😭😭😭 jj next pls pls pls

love island!jj

jj is an og boy through and through, i have no clue why but something about him screams being in the original line up. the public love him from the moment he comes on, from his looks to his personality he already becomes a bit of a fan favourite

i feel like you would also be in the original line up however you wouldn’t be coupled together, i think it’d be a situation where the public chooses who should go together and honestly he’s gutted. his eyeballs nearly popped out when he saw you and in his head he’s praying that the public chose you to be with him but to his dismay it was not the case

but that doesn’t stop either of you, it was easy to fall for him with his jokey, playful manor but still that masculine presence that follows him - i think the moment where the two of you’d click is when your playing a game around the fire pit and you mention something about the ocean or surfing and it just clicks for him that he needs to get you in his bed as soon as possible

i think it’s only a matter of time before he’s pulling you for chats and slowly flirting his way into your heart, during one of the first recouplings he picks you and honestly that’s only the beginning for the two of you, it’s really sweet and romantic from there on and you become a public favourite quite quickly (sort of like lana and ron s9)

the main major stump between the two of you is when bombshells come in and neither of you have communicated well about that situation so when you see him cracking on with another girl that’s not you, it genuinely shatters your heart into a million

i feel like we see this in obx and i can see it translate into this very well is jj’s fear of intimacy and closeness, for him he could care less about the bombshell but it’s the idea that you and him have been getting so close it’s causing him to freak out and that’s how he finds himself flirting with someone’s name he can barely remember

and before he can even explain himself or even talk to you, everyone’s gathering around the fire pit and he’s being chosen leaving you single - he couldn’t hate himself more in that moment because the idea of you going home genuinely makes him want to leave with you but production comes through and you’re being sent on a date ( really pulling a mimii on this one s11)

following that it’s just a bit of back and forth of arguing and getting back at each other before he sits you down and just breaks, he starts pouring his heart out and you start to realise that whatever anger you have is not worth it

not to say it doesn’t cause a stump in your relationship but your connection with him is stronger than the anger you have. truly once you guys get over that it’s so so sweet and heartwarming

you’d 100% be the very loud, active couple like everyone else is complaining at how your going at it and he genuinely has no shame and doesn’t care - he’s eating you out under those covers with no shame

you guys going to the hideaway would go so viral just cause of how fucked out you look after (lowk like in love island usa when kenny and jaNa came out) hair is a mess and everyone is making memes about how he gives it good

casa amour is such a realisation for him at how much he needs you to keep his mood up because for the first time he is just so out of it and it’s solely because he misses you - the casa recoupling is so cute because you literally run to him and he’s looking at you so in love

like i said casa is such a realisation for him that it doesn’t take long for him to make you his girlfriend and drop the l bomb and if people though you were loud before, god were they not prepared

people have been rooting for you since like day one, when they saw his face when you’d strutted in so it was a very clear and obvious win, and all hell breaks loose when you announce your first kid a couple years later and all you can think is how this started from a silly show you went on for fun

[sloaneispunk]

“master manipulator”

dark!inho x you

in-ho had a special way of getting to gi-hun. with the help someone as broken as him, he knew he could get under the skin of him. in-ho was a master manipulator.

⟢ ──── ●▲■ ──── ⟢

when in-ho first joined the game, he already had his eyes set on you, not because he wanted you romantically or as a friend. it was because he knew exactly how he was going to use you to get to gi-hun.

in the first round of voting, before he befriended the team, he spotted you in the crowd.

bingo!

“what’s a young girl like you doing in a game like this?” he would say. the way the heart was flattery, he knew that.

you didn’t take it well at first, often ignoring him or giving him short replies. but after many tries and his admirable resilience, you opened up.

as he got to know you whilst during the voting, he had somehow gotten to you. to him, it was the easiest thing ever.

“you know, you could clear your debt if you just played one more game.” he whispered in your ear before it was your turn to vote.

and luckily for him, you were player 002. it may or may not have been purely a coincidence but he enjoyed every second of it anyways.

in-ho made sure that when you walked up to the panel, you would have your mind straight on what he had told you to do.

and so you did.

team ‘o’.

when he casted in the last vote, he watched as the ‘o’s had easily overruled the ‘x’s.

when he was proud of you, his little plaything, he would brush up against you, throwing his arm over you protectively.

eventually, he brought you along when he joined gi-hun’s team. for some odd reason he felt that he couldn’t just abandon you like that after you had helped him.

throughout the next few games, in-ho protected you like you were his. during the ‘six legged pentathlon’ he ensured that you had a place in the team. when playing ‘mingle’, he would take your hand as he dragged you everywhere he went.

yea, he was using you for his own use but something in him made him feel awful about it.

it was rare for in-ho to feel that way, he couldn’t remember the last time he felt so protective of someone.

but of course, all good things must come to an end.

when the third game ended, you were approached by jung-bae and gi-hun.

“hey, are you okay?” jung-bad asked as he looked you up and down seeming as if he was checking for bruises or scratches.

“y/n… jung-bae told me something concerning happened during ‘mingle’. i have to ask you something and you need to answer me honestly.” gi-hun added.

“what is it?” you would reply, fingers nervously playing behind your back.

“is young-il making you do this? anything?”

you frowned at them. how dare they?

“what?! why do you assume that?! he has done nothing wrong, i-”

“is there a problem?” in-ho stepped in, gently pushing you behind him.

“we just felt something was off with y/n, we were asking-”

“y/n is okay.” in-ho would cut them off. “y/n, sweetheart, you’re okay right?” he turned to look at you.

as you stared into his eyes you couldn’t stand the thought of not obliging to whatever he said. he felt safe, warm, just like home.

you sheepishly nodded.

“see?” in-ho tried his best to refrain himself from throwing a punch at gi-hun for the spot he put you in. “why don’t you go lie down, my dear? you must be exhausted from the game.” he told you adoringly, cupping your face as you nodded.

it was that easy.

but then, in-ho knew, his feelings were getting in the way. he was risking whatever plan he had for gi-hun because of these torturous feelings for you.

when the rebellion formed, he was torn between keeping you safe or taking you with him. but he figured a naive, young girl like you couldn’t be left in that hellhole alone without him. ‘who was going to protect you?’ he thought.

however, as the team got closer and closer to the control room, he knew his cover was going to be blown.

he hid behind the stairwell with you and a fellow player. contemplating if he should handle it himself or get you involved.

eventually, he made up his mind.

“y/n, honey, shoot him please.” he told you in that same sweet tone.

“w-what?”

“you know i’ll keep you safe, he’s going to get in the way. you have to.”

just as simple as that, the player was shot down by you, laying in a pool of his own blood because of your betrayal.

“oh, attagirl.” he would praise, sending shivers down your spine.

even with a sight so gruesome as that, he could make you feel like the luckiest and happiest person alive with his praises.

without a question, you had followed him back to his headquarters, in-ho keeping you hand in his every step of the way.

“now, i need you to take this…” he told you, kneeling down, giving you a walkie talkie as you sat on his bed. “… watch the cameras and as soon as someone gets near this door i need you to tell me, okay?”

“but what’s going on?” you asked wanting an explanation for all the chaos, the wreckage.

“i’ll explain everything to you when i get back.” he brushed it off.

“don’t leave me here alone please.”

in-ho felt his heart break. your voice was so soft and gentle.

he brushed the hair away from your face and wiped your tears.

“it’ll only take a while, i’ll be back as soon as i can.”

and with one last kiss to your forehead, he was off.

he had a new addition to his team.

[mcrveilles]

just this once // ln4

word count: 2.7k warnings: smut, sexual themes, intimacy themes, secrecy, conflicts of loyalty, romantic tension and suggestive content includes: friends to lovers, fluff, best friends little sister, brothers best friend summary: basically porn with a little plot - sorry. or not? if you don't want to read the explicit part, i've added a red line where it starts and ends

PART THREE previous part - next part

tag list: sltwins sarx164 hadesnumber1daughter fullmugwolffish willowsnook

MINORS DO NOT READ

As you slip into your pajamas, the soft cotton of your loose tank top and shorts providing comfort against your skin, the phone on your night stand buzzes. You sigh, feeling drained from the long night out and the emotional rollercoaster with Lando. You rub at the remaining mascara under your eyes, trying to wipe away any still left. In your softly lit room, a single lamp casts shadows on the walls as you crawl into your bed. It's a cozy escape from the night you’d just had. As you settle under the covers, the warmth of the day lingers on your skin while your chosen movie's gentle hum adds to the soothing atmosphere, creating a peaceful state of mind.

The name on your phone screen, however, makes you freeze when you finally look at it.

Lando: You still up?

Your pulse quickens. After the night you’d just had—the stolen glances, heated touches, Max hovering too close—you aren’t sure you’re ready for more of whatever this was.

You: Just about to crash. Why?

His reply comes seconds later.

Lando: Because I’m out front.

Your heart skips a beat.

You: Are you serious? Why?

Lando: Come find out.

You hesitate, knowing that letting him in will only create more complications. But the memory of his touch and the taste of his lips still linger on your skin, making the decision for you. You throw on a cardigan and walk to your front door. Through the security system's camera, you see Lando leaning casually against the door, dressed in his usual hoodie and jeans and looking far too confident for someone who showed up uninvited at this late hour. Exhaling deeply, you buzz him in and crack open your apartment door. As he steps out of the elevator, his familiar scent fills the hallway - clean, warm, with a hint of musk.

“Are you insane?” you ask him, crossing your arms and cocking an eyebrow.

“Probably,” he answers with a grin. “But I couldn’t just stay home after tonight.”

“You could’ve texted me like a normal person instead of lurking outside my building.”

“Would you have replied if I had?”

You open your mouth to argue, but the words die on your tongue. He has a point. Lando's gaze softens as it sweeps over your appearance, his grin turning lopsided. His eyes linger on your pajamas, taking in the cute patterns and soft fabric. You suddenly feel self-conscious under his scrutiny, but also oddly flattered, “Cute .”

“Don’t start,” you warn, the sound of your voice echoing off the walls as you shut the door behind him. He holds up his hands in mock surrender but doesn’t move from where he’s standing in the entryway. His eyes are fixed on you, studying you with a penetrating gaze, like he’s trying to decipher some deep mystery.

“What are you doing here, Lando?” you ask again, your voice barely above a whisper now.

He shrugs, his usual confident demeanor faltering for a brief moment. “Honestly? I just wanted to see you.”

Your heart skips a beat at his confession. The air between you seems charged and heavy, pulsing with unspoken emotions.

He takes a step closer, his hands casually slipping into the pockets of his hoodie. “All night, all I could think about was you. The way you looked at me, the way you felt when we danced... And then Max was there, and I couldn’t do anything about it.”

“Lando…”

But he interrupts with a low and sincere voice, “I know we said ‘one time’, but it doesn't feel like enough. Not after tonight.”

Your defenses start to crumble as his words sink in. You want to say something, anything, but before you can, he closes the distance between you. “You drive me crazy, you know that?” He murmurs, gently brushing his hands over your arms. “Right back atcha,” you admit, barely above a whisper.

That's all he needs to hear. His lips are on yours before either of you can overthink it, his hands pulling you closer by your waist. This kiss feels different from the last time - not playful or teasing like before, but deeper, filled with all the pent up frustration and longing.

Your hands find their way to his hoodie, gripping onto the fabric as he guides you backwards towards the couch. When your knees hit the cushions, you both break apart for a moment to catch your breath. “Are we really doing this?” Your voice trembles as you ask.

He rests his forehead against yours, his thumb tracing circles on your hip. “If you tell me to stop, I will.” But you don't. Instead, you pull him back into another kiss—your answer clear.

“Don’t stop,” you breathe out, voice low. The atmosphere is charged now, every sensation amplified—the brush of his fingers against your skin like the whisper of a checkered flag, the heat of your bodies close enough to ignite. This moment has an intensity about it, like standing on the brink of a cliff, hurtling towards something that is both unknown and alluring.

You crash your lips against his with a newfound intensity, the decision made and the line crossed. Your hands, emboldened, slip beneath the soft fabric of his hoodie, exploring the contours of a body built by countless hours in the cockpit and gym. You feel every ridge of muscle, every pulse of his quickening heartbeat against your palms.

“Your hands are freezing,” Lando chuckles breathlessly, but there's a thrill in his voice that tells you he doesn't mind the chill. Or perhaps it’s the contrast he enjoys—the fire between you set against the ice of your touch. “Maybe you should warm them up then,” you tease back, your voice a raspy whisper, a green light flashing in your mind, urging you not to stop.

With a gentle tug, his hoodie is off, tossed carelessly into the shadowy corner of the room. There's an urgency now—a need to explore the terrain of his skin, to map out every part of him. Your breaths mingle, hot and fast, as you navigate this new intimacy. The world outside fades away until there's nothing left but the electric current buzzing between you, threatening to short-circuit your self-control.

Lando's eyes lock with yours, dark and intense. His pupils are blown wide, reflecting the dim light of the room. You can see the conflict there—the eagerness entwined with hesitation. “Are you sure about this?” he asks once again, his voice husky. You make a mental note to remember this about this. This carefulness, the way he needs to make sure, you’re sure.

Your answer is to pull him closer, eliminating what little space remains between you. You can feel the heat radiating off his bare skin, smell the intoxicating mix of his cologne and sweat. Your fingers trace the lines of his abs, feeling them tense under your touch. “I've never been more sure of anything,” you breathe against his neck before pressing my your lips to skin of his neck, feeling his sharp intake of breath, the way his hands tighten on your hips.

__________________________

Suddenly, you’re falling backwards onto the couch, Lando following, his body covering yours. The weight of him is intoxicating, pressing you into the cushions. Your legs part instinctively, allowing him to settle between them. The friction as he shifts against you sends sparks shooting through your body.

“Fuck,” Lando breathes, his forehead resting against yours. His curls tickle your face, and you reach up to run your fingers through them, marveling at their softness. You arch up, desperate for more contact, more friction, more of everything. Lando groans, the sound vibrating through his chest and into yours. His hands are everywhere—skimming down your sides, slipping under your shirt, leaving trails of fire in their wake.

“Too many clothes,” you mutter, fumbling with the hem of your own shirt. Lando helps, his fingers brushing against your skin as he pulls the fabric up and over your head. The cool air hits your exposed skin, raising goosebumps. His eyes roam hungrily over your body, his gaze so intense you can almost feel it like a physical touch.

“God, you're beautiful,” he murmurs, voice thick with eagerness. His hand traces the curve of your waist, fingertips dancing along your ribs. You shiver, arching into his touch. The moment stretches, charged with electricity. You can hear the pounding of your own heart, see the rapid rise and fall of Lando's chest. The air feels thick, heavy with anticipation. You reach for him, pulling him down for a searing kiss. His lips are soft but insistent against yours, tongue seeking entrance. You grant it willingly, moaning softly as the kiss deepens. Lando's hips grind against yours, the friction sending shockwaves through your body. Your fingers dig into his shoulders, urging him closer. The kiss grows more desperate, teeth clashing, breaths mingling.

Lando's lips trail down your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. You tilt your head, giving him better access. His stubble scratches deliciously against your throat as he works his way lower. When he reaches your collarbone, he pauses, looking up at you through his lashes.

“Is this okay?” he asks, voice rough with longing.

You nod, unable to form words. Your skin feels like it's on fire, every nerve ending hypersensitive. Lando continues his descent, pressing open-mouthed kisses along the swell of your breasts. His hands come up to cup them, thumbs brushing over them. “Lando,” you gasp, your voice breathy and desperate. “Please...”

He smirks against your skin, clearly enjoying the effect he's having on you. "Please what?" he murmurs, his breath hot against your chest. You squirm beneath him, desperate for more contact. "Don't tease," you whine, fingers tangling in his curls. Lando chuckles, the sound vibrating through you. "But teasing is so much fun," he says, punctuating his words with a gentle nip at your collarbone.

"Tell me what you want," he murmurs against your neck, his breath hot on your skin. "You," You gasp. "All of you."

He groans, grinding his hips against yours. The friction is delicious but not enough. You slide your hands down his back, feeling the muscles flex under your palms, before slipping them into the waistband of his jeans. Lando inhales sharply, "Fuck, you're driving me crazy,".

"These need to come off," You breathe, tugging at the fabric. Lando nods, his eyes dark with desire. He shifts and fumbles with the button of his jeans. You fumble with your shorts. Then you’re both looking at eachother, panting, "Like what you see?" Lando teases, voice low and husky, clearly enjoying the effect he's having on you.

"Shut up," you mutter, reaching for him. He laughs, the sound rich and warm, before leaning down to capture your lips again. This kiss is slower, deeper, filled with a hunger that makes your toes curl. His hands roam your body, leaving trails of fire in their wake.

You arch into his touch, desperate for more. Your fingers trace the planes of his back, feeling the muscles flex beneath your palms. Lando groans into your mouth, hips grinding against yours. The friction is delicious but not enough. You need more. As if he knows, his fingers finally dip between your thighs.

"Fuck," Lando breathes, his voice rough. "You're so wet." You can only whimper in response as he starts to move his fingers. Your hips buck against his hand, chasing the sensation, "Lando," you pant, "Please, I need you." He groans, pressing his forehead against yours. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," You breathe. "God, yes." He reaches for his discarded jeans, fumbling with the pocket for a condom. Lando's hands tremble slightly as he rolls on the condom, his eyes never leaving yours. The anticipation builds, an intensity of desire thrumming through your veins. He positions himself between your thighs, the heat of him scorching against your skin. With excruciating slowness, he pushes in, stretching and filling you completely. You both gasp at the sensation, overwhelmed by the intensity. Lando stills, his forehead presses against yours, breath coming in short pants. "You okay?" he whispers, voice strained with the effort of holding back. "Yes," you breathe, lifting your hips. "Move, please." He obliges, starting a slow, steady rhythm that has you seeing stars. Your fingers dig into his shoulders, urging him closer, deeper. The room fills with the sound of skin on skin, breathless moans, and whispered encouragements.

Lando's lips find yours in a searing kiss as he picks up the pace. You match him thrust for thrust, lost in the sensation of him moving inside you. Your world narrows to just this - the slide of his skin against yours, the pressure building with each thrust, a burning tension deep in your core. Lando's rhythm falters, his movements becoming more erratic. You can tell he's close. His hand snakes between your bodies, fingers finding that sensitive bundle of nerves. The added stimulation is almost too much. "Fuck, Lando," you gasp, arching into him. "I'm so close." He groans, burying his face in your neck. "Come for me, baby," he murmurs against your skin, his voice rough and desperate. It's those words that send you over the edge. Your release crashes over you in waves of white-hot pleasure. You cry out, fingers digging into Lando's back as your body shudders beneath him. The pulsing of your inner walls triggers his own climax. With a strangled moan of your name, he stills, burying his face in your neck.

For a moment, you lie there, tangled together, your chests heaving as you catch your breaths. The room feels charged, electric, the air thick with the scent of sex and sweat. The warm, solid weight of Lando's body pressing down on you creates a sense of security and connection, his skin smooth and warm against yours. You run your fingers through his damp curls, savoring the intimacy of the moment.

Lando lifts his head, his eyes meeting yours. There's a vulnerability there you’ve never seen before, a softness that makes your heart skip. He opens his mouth as if to say something, then closes it again, seemingly at a loss for words. "Hey," you whisper, cupping his cheek. "You okay?" He nods, a small smile tugging at his lips. "More than okay," he murmurs, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your lips. "That was..."

"Yeah," you nod in agreement.

As the afterglow fades, reality starts to creep back in. Lando shifts, gently pulling away from you, and you both wince slightly at the loss of contact. He disposes of the condom and reaches for his discarded clothes, his movements slow. You sit up, suddenly feeling exposed, and pull a throw blanket over yourself. The silence stretches between you, heavy with unspoken words and lingering questions. Lando runs a hand through his tousled curls, his gaze flicking to you and then away again. "So..." he starts. You interrupt him, "That happened."

__________________________

He chuckles softly, the sound vibrating through his chest. "Yeah, it did." His hand finds yours, fingers intertwining. "Any regrets?"

You pause, considering. There are so many things to consider.

Your eyes lock with Lando's, searching his face. Despite the vulnerability in his expression, there's a spark of hope there too. You take a deep breath, weighing your words carefully. "No regrets," you finally say, squeezing his hand. "But...this complicates things." Lando nods slowly, his thumb tracing circles on your palm. "I know. Max..."

"Yeah," you sigh, the name of your brother hanging heavy between you. "And our friendship.” The air between you feels charged again, but differently this time. There's a tenderness there now, layered beneath the lingering desire. Lando shifts closer, his free hand coming up to cup your cheek.

"I definitely don't want to lose you," Lando murmurs, his eyes earnest. "As a friend or...whatever this is." You lean into his touch, closing your eyes briefly. "I don't want to lose you either," you admit softly. When you open your eyes again, Lando's gaze is intense, searching.

"So what do we do now?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

[pretty-little-mind33]

James Potter x fem!reader

Summary: You're a stupid drunk and James Potter is very very bad at dealing with his romantic feelings.

Genre: Angst (happy ending), fluff, hurt and comfort (a little bit of everything honestly)

Warnings: jealous!james, stupid!james, swearing, screaming, arguments, crying, injuries, punching, blood, protective!James, protective!marauders, platonic!best friends!marauders, confessions, dangerous activities (reader puts herself in danger), mentions of dying

JAMES POTTER MASTERLIST

You look towards the ground and your ankle bends a little in your winter boots as you try to control your movements. The cherry liquor you had drank earlier lingers in your mouth and in your drunken haze, the tower you're currently balancing on feels secure as you move forwards and the onlookers below continue to cheer. 

"Please don't stay out too late," Remus warned you.

You blush, shaking some snow from your hair as you outstretch your arms for better balance, biting your lip. You look up at the sky, the stars prominent this evening.

"And don't drink too much," James reminded you with small smile. 

"We'll see you there," Sirius promised.

What the hell did they know? You pout, now staring down at the snow on the ground. They hadn't even shown up!

You hear someone call your name and you look down to see Arthur Brown, a Ravenclaw boy you'd been talking with at a party. He's handsome with a charming smile and as you wave to him, you almost fall over. 

Arthur just chuckles and encourages you to continue whatever nonsense and liquid courage inspired you to walk on the castle roof in the snow this late at night. 

"Y/n?" you hear Remus's strained shout and when you turn your head, you're surprised to see Remus, James, and Sirius rushing over. They aren't dressed for the cold weather and they look extremely shaken and confused. "Come down from there," Remus shouts. You wonder how they'd known.

Sirius looks pale and James is frantically looking around to find some way to help you down safely. He looks more distraught than the others and Sirius has to calm him.

Your eyebrows knit together. You're afraid James might make a scene. Only, why would he? You know he'd let Remus, Sirius, or Peter do this in a heart beat, and he'd find it funny.

Bloody hell, James would probably do it himself so why does he look so worried when it's you?

"Bugger off, she's fine," Arthur interrupts as you take another step. Your boots slip on the snow again but you laugh as you move your arms out further to catch yourself. "See, she's fine. So, stop being her little guard dogs for one second and let her live a little," he says with unnecessary venom. 

"What did you just say?" Sirius barks, grabbing Arthur's collar. He looks furious now. 

"Y/n, come down, please, honey," Remus calls, occasionally telling Sirius to drop it and to concentrate on you.

You frown as Arthur's teasing riles up your friends and the crowd underneath you. Wind swirls around you and you gasp, feeling suddenly even more unbalanced and you start to realize maybe this wasn't the smartest plan.

"You fuckin' prick, don't talk about her like that, you hear me?" James suddenly swears loudly. Because you hadn't been paying attention to the boys under you, when you hear James and look down at him, you see that he'd pushed Arthur into the snow and was pinning him down.

Alarmed by their shouts, you accidentally slip as you turn around to make sure James's is okay.  

You let out a shriek and all the students suddenly look up, seeming to remember your presence. Momentarily distracted by your scream, Arthur slams his elbow into James's cheekbone and sends him falling off him. Chaos ensues as everyone rushes to crowd around both you and James separately. 

Remus kneels next to you, his hand coming behind your head to support you up. You're clutching at your ankle as you wail uncontrollably from the way you had fallen onto the snow. With nimble fingers, Remus cuffs your jeans and sees how swollen your ankle looks. "Oh, honey, that looks like it hurts," he whispers and caresses your cheek with his knuckles. 

From next to you, Sirius and other students are standing around James; James, who has scrambled up from the ground. His nose is bleeding and the crimson liquid stains the snow as he curses at Arthur. Sirius is holding James up by his shoulders and he uses his hand to pinch James's nose as his best friend winces in pain. Arthur, who has a prominent bruise under his eye, is pulled away by his friends. 

"What happened here?" The low drone of the Headmaster, accompanied by an anxious looking Professor McGonagall, is heard and you all turn your heads around.

* * *

Around an hour later, as Madam Pomfrey takes the time to heal your ankle, a disheveled looking James sits on the bed opposite of yours. He's holding a handkerchief to his nose and Madam Pomfrey hasn't tended to his injury yet. To her defense, James still looks extremely pissed and you wouldn't want to approach him either. You won't have that same luxury as the moment Madam Pomfrey is gone, James is staring.  

"What were you thinking?" he whispers, his tone quipped. Still a little fuzzy from how drunk you'd been, you blink at him and shift uncomfortably. 

"What was I thinking? What were you thinking?" you counter, defensively.

"What?" James drops the handkerchief and glares. 

"Why would you jump Arthur like that?"

"Why the fuck do you care?" James hisses, his eyes narrowing. He's your best friend, he knows you hate it when he swears but that doesn't stop him now. "You're fucking reckless, you know? How could you have been so fucking stupid?"

You stare at James as your eyes water painfully. No coherent words form in your head. You're grateful for an escape when Remus and Sirius pile into the room. 

Sirius rushes to your side. "Aw, poor sweetness, does it hurt terribly?" his sentence dies when he sees your tears and he wraps an arm around you so you can hug him. "Y/n, what's wrong?" 

Remus, always more intuitive than Sirius, looks at James and sees James's furious expression. He frowns and quickly walks over to his best friend and holds onto his arm. James pushes him away and you see Remus whisper something in his ear. 

However, Sirius pulls your attention away from them as he wipes your tears with his thumb. 

"I am not!" Your attention is pulled again and you hear James shout as Remus shushes him.

You sniff, and look at Sirius. "James hates me," you say and Sirius's expression falls. He looks behind and sees Remus and James's shushed argument. He turns to you and holds your chin in his hand as his gaze softens. 

"James couldn't hate you even if he'd been cursed to," he says so simply.

You shake your head and bite your lip. "No, he's really mad…like really mad, Pads."

Sirius chuckles and sighs, "Oh sweetie, James isn't really mad at you. He's mad at himself. Merlin, you should have seen him when he first saw you on that roof, the poor bloke looked about ready to faint." 

Sirius continues and turns to Remus and James only to see they've moved further away from you and Sirius, and James looks like he could burst into tears at any moment, "Jamie is madly in love with you, Y/n. Just the possibility of you and another guy makes him go absolutely bonkers. And listen, if he hadn't hit Arthur like he did, I don't know if you would have fallen, doll. James knows that too and he's simply mad with guilt."

You try to concentrate on Sirius's entire story but your mind stays stuck at the words; "James? In love with me?" 

Sirius's lips curl in amusement but he doesn't have the time to answer because he hears Remus shout an exasperated; "Prongs!" as James, his nose still very much broken and bloody, storms out of the Hospital Wing without a second word. Your chest tightens as you watch him and if you could, you'd run after him.

* * *

James has been avoiding you. Or more accurately, he's been avoiding everyone for the last three days. He's never in the common room anymore and he has evening detentions with Professor McGonagall so you don't see him at all outside of classes. Remus, Sirius, and Peter all tell you he's been quiet in their dorm too and that they don't know what's happened with him either. 

Remus won't tell anyone what he spoke to James about that night in the Hospital Wing.

By the fourth day of complete silence, you've had enough. You manage to catch James on his way to detention. You speed walk over to him and cut his path, spinning around to look at him. You gasp when you see him. His face is bruised and his lip is split. "James!" you gasp and stop him. James's brown eyes narrow and he looks angry. 

"Get out of my way, Y/n," he hisses as his fists clench. 

"What happened?" you insist. His burises look horrible, and you think that he hadn't got his broken nose healed properly since he'd stormed out of the Hospital Wing. Why handn't the boys told you James looked like this?

"Are you a bloody insane? What he fuck happened?" your voice comes out stern and James pauses at your curse word, his frustrated expression faltering for a moment. 

"What?"

You hold onto his sleeve and push him into the nearest girls lavatory. James almost trips as you make him lean against the sink. His eyes widen when you pull out your wand and firmly grasp his chin in your hands. You ignore his whinning as you point your wand at his wounds. "Episky—shush be still," you mutter sternly as you heal all of his wounds. "What is wrong with you, James Potter? Tell me who you've been tousling with this instant!"

James scrunches his nose and touches where his wounds had been. He leans away from you. "Nobody," he says, his voice high so you know he's lying. 

"James," you warn. You move away and shove your wand in your cloak. "Please, tell me."

James has never been able to deny you a thing, even at times like this. "Fine, just don't lose your head over it, bird," you scowl at the nickname with an eye roll. "Brown keeps pushing my buttons, is all," he says. 

"Arthur? The same boy who broke your nose?"

"Yeah, that little fucker, I'm pretty sure he's in love with you—or he has some weird obsession because he can't keep your name out of his fucking mouth," James suddenly pinches his nose and shuts his eyes, "Shi-sorry I keep curing, I know you don't like it when we curse." 

Almost like he's sulking, James leans against the sink and stares at you. He doesn't speak. 

"You're such a wanker," you mumble and look at him more closely, "Why are you acting like such a prick since that night?"

"Oh, since the night you almost fucking died?" James raises his eyebrows, his tone sarcastic and you ignore the curse word again. 

"Horrible exaggeration considering all I did was break my ankle."

"Could have been your neck," James deadpans. 

"Well, it wasn't my neck and that's certainly no excuse to be a such a prat," you say seriously. James considers your words and sighs. He runs a hand through his shaggy hair and looks away. 

"What do you want me to say?" he asks. 

You stare at him like he's absolutely mental. "That you're sorry?"

James laughs and you swear you've never met a boy as stubborn as he is. "Why would I be sorry?"

"Are you serious, James?" you whisper and press your finger accusingly on his chest, "Listen to me, I know I shouldn't have been on that roof, that's my mistake, but you know damn well I wouldn't have been on that roof if you'd all come with me to the party like you'd promised!" your voice comes out rushed, "And I wouldn't have fallen if you didn't have to knock down Arthur Brown and make me worried for you!"

James's cheeks are flaming. "You think I, out of everyone, don't know that?" he says, straightening up and moving closer to you, his voice harsh, "do you think I don't lay awake at night, going absolutely insane over every possible scenario that prevents you from falling?" James's voice cracks and he steps forwards again. 

You look up at him, slightly breathless. For someone so angry, James looks undeniably handsome. "I know we should have gone to the party with you, but Merlin, I couldn't bear another one! Another party I would have had to spend watching other boys fawn all over you! Fuck, Y/n, how could I have known you would decide take a drunken nightly stroll on a roof because we hadn't shown up!"

You listen to him, eyes wide, "You don't like it when boys fawn over me?" you whisper. 

James frowns. He bites his lip and squeezes his eyes closed. "Of course I don't," he says, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. 

"Why?" 

"Because you should be mine," James's voice is smaller now, less authoritative, less angry. 

You stare at him and take in his expression with an inhale of breath. "But, James, I am yours."

James shakes his head quickly and tugs at his curls. "No, no. You aren't mine. You're ours. Sirius, Remus, Peter—you're our best friend. And I was okay with that, until I wasn't anymore and now everytime Arthur Brown says he wants to kiss your lips all I want is to punch something." James's fists clench and he looks away from you. 

"You're scaring me," you look at him, whispering honestly but you don't move away from him.

James looks down and this time he looks really remorseful, "I'm sorry, Y/n, I don't meant to scare you. I—"

"So, Sirius was right," you inquire, taking his sudden remorse as a widow for a civilized conversation. 

"Sirius was right about what?" 

"You're in love with me," you don't say it as a question, more like a statement and James's eyes round so wide you're almost afraid they'll pop out of his skull.

James tries to escape but as he backs away, he bumps into the sink and his heart sinks. His eyes are moving so rapidly around the room and his cheeks have turned a less aggressive crimson and into a more lovesick pink. 

"Why does everyone keep telling me that?" he mumbles to himself, feeling warmth on his cheek. 

"What?"

James rubs at his nape and looks less angry and more nervous. You smile. You had been right to strike this conversation now. "Moony, in the Hospital Wing. He said I loved you—which was why I was acting like a prick and I don't," he backtracks immediately, "I mean, I love you as a friend and n-nothing more."  

You expected to feel pain at the rejection but instead, you laugh. You stare at James and laugh harder. So hard, you clutch your sides and James's eyebrows crease with worry as you hyperventilate in front of him. 

"Because you should be mine," you repeat his words through your laughter, "That's what you said and now you want me to believe you aren't in love with me?!"

"What?!" James's crimson cheeks have returned and he sounds annoyed now, "I- listen, sorry to disappoint but I-I am not in love with you!"

"You aren't?" you look at him, your eyes flickering to his lips. 

"No!"

"Then why do you want me to be yours? What does that mean, hmm, James?"

You walk a little closer and your arms rest on the sink behind him. You ignore the way your heart is pounding your chest and screaming at you as you stand so close to him. James is staring down as you look up at him through your lashes. You expect another protest, maybe another incoherent defense, but instead he mumbles, "Fuck it," under his breath and takes your cheeks in his hands as he kisses you. 

Without a second thought, you kiss him back. Your hand tangles in his hair as you press your lips to his. It's almost animalistic the way James is kissing you and it only lasts a few seconds before he's disconnecting your lips and resting his forehead onto yours. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he pants, shaking his head, "I shouldn't have kissed you without asking you—"

     "Oh, shut up," you grumble and kiss him again. He accepts the kiss and spins you around. He uses his arm to hoist you onto the sink and deepen the kiss. You hold onto him and wince when your hip accidentally hits the faucet. James pulls away and looks at you like he can't believe what just happened. 

"Okay, so maybe I am in love with you," he finally admits and his chest is heaving from all the emotions. 

You crack a smile, "I'm in love with you too, James," you admit and touch his cheek. "Only, you can't act like a prick to me when you can't deal with your emotions. You should have told me all these feelings instead of sulking like a child." 

James nods and squeezes his eyes shut, "I was just so angry at myself," he whispers.

"I know, Sirius said that was the reason."

James chuckles with a roll of his eyes, "How does Sirius suddenly know my emotions better than I do? He's usually the emotional wreck!" 

You adjust his glasses a little, "He's just observant," you say, "and you're stubborn."

James pulls you in, holding you close to him as he dips and kisses your neck. He hums against your skin and whispers, "I'm such a fool, can you forgive me?" he asks, basically pleads, "I'm just, I was jealous."

You laugh, "Oh, I know. But, James, you know you have no reason to be jealous of anyone."

James whines and looks at you with his famous doe eyes; "I have every reason to be jealous. I'm jealous of the way Peter laughs at your jokes, or how Remus bonds over books with you. I'm jealous of Sirius and how he makes you laugh, and I'm jealous of every boy that looks your way. And worst of all, I'm jealous of the sun because it shines on you every day and I can't," he sounds like a lovesick idiot. He's barely making sense. 

You look at him seriously, "James. You are the sun. You're my sun." 

James looks into your eyes and bats his eyelashes innocently. He says, "So, you forgive me for being a wanker?" It's obvious he wants to make you laugh and he succeeds as you chuckle and playfully and lightly swat his cheek. 

"I'll forgive you," you say, "for now."

James pouts but he also lifts you and spins you around. He drops you on the ground, his hands at your hips and kisses your forehead. "I'll take it, love. Now, let's tell our friends we aren't mad at each other anymore."

"I was never really mad with you," you point out with a snort as James takes your hand. 

James squints, and looks behind his shoulder at you. "Yeah, you were," he says but when you shake your head he decides not to argue with you and just smiles, "Okay, fine, then let's go tell our friends I'm not being a baby anymore."

"Much better," you beam with a giggle and James realizes with a hopeless smile that he wants to be the only reason you ever giggle like that again. 

Merlin, he really is madly in love with you.

[signedaiko]

begging- BEGGING PLEASSEE!!

for a Bumblee Bee x Decepticon reader who’s short like him but more timid than their comrades. Like they mess up on missions, but they can be snappy too and fast like Bumblebee! I imagine him chasing them in a fun cat and mouse and accidentally takes it like a fun game. all scaring the heck out of them as he catches up with a smile. He would start crushing on them and just says things like it’s a fun idea “you should totally switch sides! Join us!” And the reader is all bewildered but wary.

Bumblebee [Animated]

In which the small bot finds a con just about his size that he wants to spend more time with.

Reader is: Gender Neutral | Cybertronian | Decepticon. Romantic.

Bee has a fair few con encounters now that he is fighting for Earth

Usually they were against the likes of Blitzwing, Lugnut, and the odd Starscream

But you were new; you were something that paled in size but made up for in interest

You were mostly known for your ability to distract; that's right, the cons used you as a lure on purpose

You were small, nimble, decently fast, and as Random had once told you;

"You have the face of an Autobot!"

Autobots thought you were an easy target, easy to manipulate, perhaps less smart

But you were dedicated to the cause, and while you hated being bait and preferred your spot on intelligence collection, you were happy to do whatever Megatron wished of you

Usually, it was fine

But recently, the yellow one had gotten too close, and he was only getting better at catching up to you

Telling the cons you were scared was out of the question, but it was seriously concerning how obsessive it had become

Every time you made yourself visible to the Bots, he was racing towards you with a smile and a hand extended, like he expected you to reach out and accept him just like that

More recently, you were worried he'd actually catch you

Racing down a frozen-over river as thick snow slowly fell from the sky, leafless trees whizzing past your vision as your peds left compacted snow marks behind you

He had special wheels made for snow, but you didn't, and he was fast behind you, yelling some more of his pleas

"Aren't you tired of running? I just wanna talk!"

He sounded so young, certainly near your age, someone you could get along with had it not been for the war

But what if it was only a trick? What if he only played this game for his own amusement?

You'd long since called Blitzwing to help get you, since you couldn't fly, and he was on his way, but visibility was low with all the snow, fog, and your distant location

You had to keep running, but Bee was only a few meters behind by now; you could hear the snow crunching beneath his tires

"C'mon! Join the bots! We can race like this more often on real roads!"

He offered again, but you refused

"You make it sound easy; how about you just join the cons?"

You were just as snappy, though

Just as he got on your heels and transformed, digits inches away from grabbing your arm, you jumped up and grabbed onto the wing of the purple and tan jet that swooped down, dragged away from his reach in seconds

He stopped in his tracks and groaned, but his smile never left

"Next time, then!"

Authors Note - This prompt is so cute!!! It honestly reminds me of a Blitzwing fic I read by @vhaos-chaotic-writing that was him being yandere and kinda doing the same!

[grandlinedreams]

|| notes: because I think this trope is always hilarious and also very cute

|| warnings: the Inner Circle (Mor and Cass) being nosy, fluff, Az and reader being silly and cute, alcohol mention

"You've been spending an awful lot of time with Azriel lately."

Looking up from the book you've been reading, you meet Mor's questioning look with one of confusion. "Is there something wrong with that?"

"No," Mor protests, "I was just wondering."

You raise an eyebrow, eyeing her. There's an edge to her tone that you're not sure that you like, as if she's trying to get you to admit to something. "He's my friend," you say slowly, "and I like spending time with my friends."

Mor hums. "That's fair," she says, then drums her fingers on the table. "Speaking of friends, we're friends, right?"

"Of course," you agree. Where is she going with this? Had you done something to make her doubt your friendship?

Mor watches you carefully, weighing her words before she says them. "And you'd tell me if you were interested in anyone, right? Romantically, I mean."

The look you give her is equal parts suspicion and befuddlement. "Probably? Mor, what is this about?"

"Nothing, nothing," she reassures you hurriedly. "Listen, we're going to Rita's tonight. As in me, Cass, Nes, and Azriel." She pauses. "I think he'd like it if you went with us."

You close your book. "I'll go," you say, and Mor beams. "But what does Az wanting me there have to do with—"

"Great!" Mor chirps, pulling away. "We'll be leaving at eight!"

And then she's gone, leaving you more bewildered than you've ever been.

Your friends are up to something. You know that they are, considering Mor's behavior from earlier, and now their (Mor, and now Cassian) insistence that you sit next to Azriel in the booth.

"I can't pick my seat?" You ask, and Cassian shakes his head.

"Nope," he grins, and you throw Nesta a pleading look that she answers with one of quiet amusement.

"Okay..." Not that you truly mind sitting next to the spymaster, but it's made strange for the way Mor and Cassian are watching the two of you and sharing looks you're sure they think are subtle.

"[Name] looks nice," Mor prompts after a while, "right, Az?"

You blink as Azriel turns towards you, and the slow sweep of his eyes over you makes your cheeks warm more than the alcohol does.

"Yes," he says quietly, and your lips quirk when you catch his eye before you turn back towards your drink. Whatever it is that Cassian and Mor are looking for or trying to incite, you're not sure, but you don't miss the look of frustrated confusion the pair share.

Cassian rallies himself for another attempt at whatever it is they're up to, and you cut him off. "I think I'm going to head back," you say, apologetic smile tugging at your lips. "I'm tired."

Mor looks like she's going to protest, only to stop when Azriel moves to follow you when you slip from the booth. "I'll come with you."

You don't protest, but you also catch the pleased look Cassian and Mor share before you step out of Rita's. The night air is a little cooler than expected and when you shiver, Azriel steps closer. "Cold?"

"A little," you admit, and you don't protest the wrap of his arm over your shoulders, pulling you closer.

Once you're far enough away from Rita's, Azriel speaks again. "Cassian is convinced that I have feelings for you."

You look up at him, finding him watching you already, coming to a halt. "And?" You prompt, raising an eyebrow, "do you?"

Azriel's eyes gleam with amusement as he leans down, meeting the answering upward tip of your head so he can kiss you. It's sweet and familiar, and you press to make it linger a little longer before he pulls away. "I think you know the answer to that."

"I do," you grin. "How long do you think it'll take them to realize that we're already together?"

Azriel snorts. "Longer than you think, honestly." He tugs you to him, enveloping you in his arms to ward off the chill of night. "I take it that you have feelings for me too?"

You huff a laugh, pressing a kiss to his chest. "I think you know the answer to that," you answer.

Azriel's lips meet the top of your head. "I do."

[inside-lees-mind]

Is multiple characters(separate) allowed? I was thinking a NSFW with a reader that gets flustered easily for Gen, Senku, and Ukyo!

Hi! Yes, multiple characters is allowed! Also, sorry, I only half assed listened to the request because Senku's felt so much more natural to write sfw.

WARNINGS: NSFW (only in Gen and Ukyo's)

Gen Asagiri

Once this man notices that you easily get flustered, he is wielding that knowledge like a weapon.

He'd be good with his words to be able to fluster you without even having to resort to close proximity.

Just silly compliments can fluster you, so soon he's taking it a step closer.

He likes to say things that take you a second to comprehend the meaning of. He'll tell you something that could mean 2 things, one more innocent, one not so much, in passing. By the time you realize, he's not even in the room anymore.

You're usually super embarrassed, but he just finds it cute and endearing.

The times that he stays after flustering you with a suggestive comment, he'll wait until you get it, then use close proximity to fluster you next.

He goes from verbally teasing you, to tilting your chin up with his pointer finger. He'll get so close you can feel his breath on your face, and from here, these interactions could go one of two ways: he may say you have something on your face, dust it off, and walk away as if he's done nothing, or the latter would be he FINALLY kisses you.

Definitely the type to tease you by pushing your legs apart with his knee, keeping it there. Don't question me on that.

Most likely character to tease you in public, but refuse to do the real thing. That's a private matter, he's just sneaky enough to tease you.

Praise or degrading in bed, whatever you'd prefer, he's using it to tease you. The blush on your face spreads down your body and that drives him crazy (or the heat if the blush wouldn't be visible)

"use your words" makes you say things you don't really wanna say out loud even if he understands what you mean.

(this man can make you cum without touching you and nobody can convince me otherwise. I don't accept critique.)

Senku Ishigami

Accidentally flusters you half of the time.

He thinks nothing of getting right in your face for something or touching you to measure you or something like that. He's unbothered because he's simply not worried about that right now.

And honestly, most of the time he won't bother to go out of his way to fluster you.

Eventually he'd realize from time to time

Like the time he pulled you out to stargaze with him.

Sure, he'd intended for it to be a date of sorts, but he doesn't really swoon at the idea of how romantic it is. He enjoys stargazing and space and all that, and its time he could be spending with you so why not just combine the things he loves into one activity?

You, on the other hand, were super nervous to speak or anything. The still of the night made it romantic, but also terrifying. It's just you, him, and the moon and stars.

He's probably talking your ear off about space and what you're looking at, not that you mind, but eventually he turns onto his side to fully face you.

You get super flustered, and for once he can't help but notice and honestly, now that he's thinking about it, you make him little nervous.

He feels that it's illogical to feel like some giddy, hopelessly in love teenager when he looks at you, but he can't help it.

Now he's just as flustered.

He struggles with initiating physical contact, but he's direct with it. He'll scoot closer and kiss you.

Then you'll both just stare in silence, occasionally opening your mouths to say something and getting nothing out.

He'd take your hand and let you both fall into a comfortable silence where you both almost drift off in each other's company.

Ukyo Saionji

It's easy to forget this man was pretty cocky.

I think at first in a relationship, he'd just be sweet and very humble, but now you've been with him for quite sometime and he won't let you forget how much he turns you on.

He's soft whispers and gentle touches to send your mind in a spiral right into the gutter and your stomach to a butterfly farm.

His favorite thing would be a back hug where he breathes in your scent and whispers against the shell of your ear, his hands running up your hips, gradually rising higher with each pass as he begins to move under your shirt.

He knows the power he has over you, but he's going to drive you crazy with whispered sweet nothings and gentle gestures.

He's an honest flirt, and that naturally flusters you. He's aware of that.

Eventually, the gentle touches get a bit more obvious and brass.

Those hands on your hips would pull you back against him.

Flusters you by insisting you be vocal in bed and then moaning about how pretty your noises are.

You'll never meet a man more in love with you. He'll fluster you by never letting you forget this.

He praises every part of your body, every noise you make, anything really.

Not related, but Ukyo would send you love letters if he had to go away on a trip and you couldn't go (pretend that's possible in the New Stone Age)

[taesankisser]

bf!taesan thoughts <3

warnings: fem!reader, super soft fluff, i am in love with this man and it shows (honestly no genuine content warnings!)

song rec: if you want to by beabadoobee or serenade by boynextdoor!

writing under the cut!

bf!taesan, who loves customizing things for you. if you want him to paint on everything you own, then he gladly will! you would come to him with two brand new pairs of white converse and he’d ask why you bought two, and you’d say with a smile that you wanted to match. he’d spend so much time making sure they were perfect and would wear your matching pair with so much pride. everything he made for you, you would cherish so deeply because you knew it was made with so much love. you would make a point to take extra care of the things he makes for you because of how special they are as he always puts so much time and effort into them!

bf!taesan, who goes out of his way to film everything for you if the two of you are apart from each other. if he’s away for whatever reason, he’ll make a point to record or take pictures of everything. the boys are being silly and he wants you to laugh along with them? it’s recorded. he sees a cute puppy? it’s snapshotted. it’s literally the most endearing thing ever how he wants to include you in on the highlights of his day. he doesn’t expect you to do the same either, but if you do he’s absolutely ecstatic! he just wants you to feel included in his life even though the two of you aren’t physically together.

bf!taesan, who sticks to you like glue. he looks so outwardly cold and intimidating, but on the inside he is so warm and gentle. he really loves to have his hands on you whenever he can. he’s not like super majorly into physical touch, but you’re his person, so he enjoys it with you. he loves when you reciprocate his touch too. if he leans on you, resting his head on your lap, and you start to play with his hair, he’ll let out a sigh of relief. that’s his own personal heaven; his favorite girl playing with his hair and just enjoying each other’s company.

bf!taesan, who is so romantic that sometimes you don’t even know how to react. he sometimes doesn’t outwardly say his feelings to you, but rather, he shows his love through actions. he’s not expressive in the sense that he’s extremely lovey-dovey with his words. instead, he’ll write you a song, making it extra special by detailing a shared memory between the two of you in the lyrics. he’s really thoughtful and despite not being super over the top about his feelings, you never go a day without feeling his deep adoration for you.

bf!taesan, who is an introvert and would prefer to be alone, but allows you in his personal bubble at all times. not just that he allows you, but he wants you around him all the time. you two can sit in comfortable silence with one another and sometimes that’s more than enough because what matters is that the two of you are together!

bf!taesan, who looks at you with so much love in his eyes. he looks at you like the earth would look at the sun, as if you’re the center of his universe. you didn’t notice how intense it was at first, until one of your friends took a candid picture of the two of you. you weren’t paying attention to his facial expressions as you were on your phone in said picture, but the look on his face says it all. his smile is so wide, his eyes turned into little crescent moons, and his heart on his sleeve. you never told him about the picture because you don’t want him to be aware of the way he stares at you, but your friends have made it known on many occasions that taesan looks at you like you’re the girl who stole his heart and he has no intention of getting it back.

<3

author’s note: eeek my first bonedo post!! i’m so excited to write for them & ofc had to start with my bias! i hope you enjoy & have a great day/night!

- lots of love, solar

[xreaderanonaccount]

Fatui Harbinger x GN!Reader Headcannon

Ships: Fatui Harbingers (minus Pucinella and Sandrone) x reader (poly)

Synopsis: What's it like being the Feared Fatui Harbingers darling?

Tags: Fluff, Crack, hugging, kissing, hand-holding

A/N: Just some random thoughts. I honestly think Sandrone would not have a S/O cause of her lore and how crazy she is. And Pucinella is just an old man.. hey not judging if that's your type. Just not mine

Divider credits: cafekitsune

Dating all the Fatui Harbingers is a full time job, not only are you being showered with Mora and gifts from some of the richest people in Teyvat you deal with all their petty drama.

Like a mother to all your boyfriends and girlfriends.

They come barging into your room ranting about what the other harbingers have done. How they “ruined” their plans. 

This mainly comes from Dottore and Pantalone. Sometimes one will come into the room and start ranting while the other is close behind. 

Pierro, Columbina, Arlecchino, and Capitano are the tamer of the bunch. If you need peace and quiet from the drama you go to them. They’ll shower you with kisses and treats to make you feel better.

But don’t get me wrong the other half would absolutely shower you with love… in their own weird twisted fates. 

Like dottore wouldn’t experiment on you but will weirdly give you a still beating heart claiming his undying love for you. 

Tartaglia would train you to fight because he wants you to fend for yourself (and to also spar with him much to Capitano’s dismay) 

During the fatui meetings they would have a special room setup for you with a little place to relax. 

And as soon as the meeting ends it’s kind of like school lunch where kids would run so fast to the lunchroom to be first in line. Like that but in a more calm manner. 

Except for Childe

He would be that kid that would run straight to the lunchroom. He would burst through the room scaring you to death yelling “BABE!” 

He would engulf you in a bear hug

It would take Capitano to take him off of you by how tight of a hold he has on you.

Dates with the Harbingers is always fun, whatever you want to do they would absolutely provide.

Want to go to an Opera? Pantalone has VIP tickets to the latest popular show.

Want to eat at a fancy restruant? Arlecchino reserved a whole restruant in Fontaine.

Want to just relax and read? Columbina would cuddle with you as she reads you a book

Want a nice stroll in the stormy winter? Capitano will walking with you, and he'll make sure you'll have his thick fluffy jacket swamping you.

Kisses are always fun, the variety of kisses you would recieve varies from mood and who is giving you the kiss.

Capitano and Pierro is always so soft and gentle, he's a big man and he doesn't want to hurt you. His lips always ghosting your skin, milimeters away from your lips. His giant bear hands gently cupping your face as he plants a gentle kiss.

The exact opposite of Dottore, that man will straight up bite you with his shark teeth.

Your lips will be bloodly and bruise when he's done with you. He's rough when he's kisses you.

He would forcefully grab your face with one hand and shove his lips on you. He wouldn't give a romantic kiss, never. But it's always one of greed and tension.

He's got some pent up anger he needs to release. And that just so happens to be your mouth.

Arlecchino is soft...ish. She would be soft but part of her would spice it up with fun.

Loves teasing you she would pretend like she was going to kiss you and but then suddenly pull away. Saying something like "oh someone needs me." Always has a shit eating grin on her face when she makes up some bull excuse.

Columbina and Childe is always a gamble, it would either be soft and tender or chaotic and rough. Really depends on what they are feeling.

Unless it's infront of his family, Childe would be all lovey dovey infront of his family. But would absolutely tease you when they're not looking

Pantalone is a no PDA guy in public except for his arm sling around your waist. Other than that kisses are only for the most intimate moments. When it's just you two, and no one else to disrupte them.

[may-stuff]

nsfw alphabet - fc43 edition

tw: i mean, many things related to sex but nothing too extreme. afab!reader. also, typos and grammatical mistakes as always because english isn't my first language.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

King of aftercare. He doesn't mind where you are; if you're in the comfort of your room or in a secluded area at some party/event or whatever, it doesn't matter, he will find a way to hold you in his arms and caress your skin, whispering sweet words in your ear, asking you if you're okay. He will only stop once he’s completely sure you’re fine.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He likes his hands. Also, his arms. The force he has in them allows him to manhandle you however he pleases, which he thinks it's great.

He likes everything about you, every detail, every imperfection is a wonder in his eyes. But your breasts are his favorite part of your body. Doesn't matter their size or shape, he absolutely loves them and loves to play with them. Have you heard the legends about women having great orgasms by only having their tits and/or nipples played with? He'll give you that. He'll play with your tits and suck on your nipples until you're cumming hard.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He likes it messy, so... He'll cum wherever you allow him to, but his favorite place to cum is obviously inside of you. Watching as his own seed drips out of your beautiful cunt? Amazing. He's hard again in seconds.

Also, he loves pinting your tits and/or face with his cum. Additionaly, he loses his mind when he cums in your mouth and you drink up until the very last drop.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Honestly, he doesn’t have secrets because he never shuts up and has this chronic need to tell you everything. So, if he discovers something new related to his sexuality and the way he lives it, he’ll tell you right away.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

I honestly feel like Franco isn't that experienced. Sure, he had girlfriends before and has had sex, but it's not like he fucked every single hole that got in front of him.

Either way, he knows what he's doing. He's very perceptive and naturally talented in everything he does/tries so I feel like, even if he isn't sure, he'll figure it out in seconds and will make you feel so good. It's totally a plus if you learn more together.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

I feel like he has a top three: cowgirl, doggy style and missionary. And he can't choose only one because he fucking loves all of them. But if we take his love for your tits into consideration, then we could say that cowgirl is his favorite because he can see and play with your tits all the time.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

It depends on the context. If you're doing it first thing in the morning or after chilling on the couch together, the mood is more relaxed and he can be goofy about it. He never shuts up so I can totally see him saying funny stuff while fucking you and you're both moaning like crazy and laughing. It'd be weird but fun.

If it's one of those times where he's jealous (or you are) or you had a fight and are making up, then he's all serious and dominant.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Well groomed. He feels like it’s more hygienic that way. 

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He can be very romantic in his own way. Again, it depends on the context. Spending time in your arms, feeling your skin against his, whispering love words in your ear… he loves it, it makes him feel alive. Sometimes he’ll take more time worshiping you in a romantic way than with his cock inside of you. 

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Unfortunately, you have to spend several days apart from time to time, due to work most probably. You try to be together as much as you can, but when you're away he jacks off pretty often. He can't help it. He thinks about you all the time, and when you aren't there with him he just needs to touch himself, otherwise he'd go crazy.

He loves recording himself or taking pics and then sending them to you.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Dirty talk - I’ve already said this a hundred times: his dirty talk is elite, both in Spanish and English. But so is yours. Every time you say something dirty while he’s pounding into you, he becomes feral and won’t stop until he makes you literally scream his name.

Praise kink - He loves it when you compliment him while you’re having sex, especially when you’re on top of him, riding him and telling him how good he makes you feel, how much you adore his cock (again, he loves dirty talk) 

A bit of breeding kink - Listen, he’s young and doesn’t want to be a father right now, but the idea of getting you pregnant? He gets hard at the thought of it. 

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Your own bedroom will always be his favorite place to have sex with you, but if the situation requires to do it in any other place, he'll do it without hesitation. He's a menace and nothing will stop him.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Everything aboout you turns him on, but when you bite on your lower lip, looking at him in the eyes, it's over for him. Also, those doe eyes of yours, pretending innocence, it stirs something in him.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Nothing that involves you getting hurt. He'll enjoy some spanking and maybe squeeze your neck a little while he fucks you, but nothing beyond that. I feel like pain doesn't turn him on.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Loves both equally. The sight of you on your knees, struggling to get all of his cock inside of your sweet mouth is as addictive as burying his face between your legs and eating you out.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Again, it depends on the context. He's slow and sensual when you're doing it first thing in the morning or maybe after a long day, after a hard race. He needs to feel you but doesn't have too much energy in him to make it fast and rough. He is fast and rough in other circumstances, maybe after a few days without seeing you, he's desperate and needs to ruin you.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Not opposed to a quickie when the situation requires it, but it isn't his favorite thing ever. He prefers to take his time with you. For him, spending the entire night together is better than a hundred quickies during the day.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He loves to take risks, I mean, look at him. He's bold enough to try anything that crosses his mind, much more if it's something you ask for. 

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Great stamina. He's an athlete after all. As long as you give him a few minutes to recover between sessions, he's at it again in almost no time. Also, everything makes him horny so…

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

I don't think he owns toys, at least not during the first months of your relationship. Maybe you're the one who introduces him to toys and, as we said, he's in for anything (as long as it doesn't include hurting each other) so he won’t complain. He does prefer to make you cum only with his dick, fingers or mouth, though. 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

I mean, I shouldn't even have to answer this. He loves to tease, his favorite thing to do in the whole world. 

From something small like touching your arm or waist when you're doing chores around the house, to something so much bigger like sending you dirty texts when you're having dinner with your family/friends. He loves to feel how you tremble in his arms every time he touches you even if it's innocently; and when you're all flustered in public, trying to hold yourself back? A work of art in his eyes.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

I feel like he isn't the loudest but he definitely makes some pretty, quiet sounds when he's inside you. He can't help it. 

I already told you all that I don't see him as extremely dom, I feel like he's a switch and he goes into the sub area pretty often so I bet he moans quietly and whimpers your name every time you’re on top of him, taking control and setting the pace. He’ll moan and beg you to move faster or let him cum. 

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

We stated that he isn’t the biggest fan of quickies, but he may have fucked you in some secluded area in Williams’ garage after some hard race that left him fuming with anger. The press, his managers, the entire team where looking for him, wondering where the hell he is, while he’s fucking you mercilessly i some bathroom or closet.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Normal, maybe slightly above average. It’s 7 inches alright? I feel like it’s thick, though. And he knows how to use it, which it’s actually the only thing that matters.

I feel like he has a pretty cock, like those that are nice to look at. It looks delicious when he’s hard; all veiny and with a nice, thick head that gets impossibly red...

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

High as fuck. We already said that you have to spend some days apart from time to time, so he knows he won’t be able to be with you all the time, thus he always has his hands on you and gets horny pretty easily. All you have to do is bat your eyes at him or bite on your lower lip and he’s ready.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

We said he’s the king of aftercare, so he won’t fall asleep until he’s sure you’re completely done and ready to go to bed. He’ll take a bath with you and help you to change the sheets. There’re times, though, where he’s so exhausted that he will fall asleep with you in his arms, but it isn’t something he pretends to do all the time. 

a/n: hello, my darlings. hope you had a little fun while reading this! i know it isn't much, but it is something!

[writerfromshikahr]

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Lath’halani - Lucanis X Rook Fanfic

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Lucanis knelt, examining the small flowers scattered across the ground. Their vibrant pink petals caught his eye, delicate and striking.

“Whatcha found?” Bellara asked, her curiosity piqued.

“These flowers, they’re beautiful.” Lucanis’s gloved fingers brushed the petals with care.

Bellara leaned over his shoulder, her eyes lighting up. “Oh! I know what they are. In Dalish they are called "Lath’halani", it loosely translates into "Love's Healing". The story goes, if you give them to someone special, they’ll always take care of your heart, and you.”

“A flower can do all that?”

“Well, not literally,” Bellara admitted. “It’s just a myth, but a romantic one! And sometimes, we all need a little more tenderness in our lives, right?”

Lucanis stood, levelling her with a look. “I’m a Crow, Bellara. What part of my work screams ‘romantic’ to you?”

She grinned impishly. “Which is exactly why you should pick some and give them to....” She stopped abruptly, her mouth snapping shut.

“Give them to who?” He frowned, waiting.

“Well,” she began, shifting awkwardly, “Look, you didn’t hear this from me because I don’t like to gossip—”

“Could have fooled me,” he interrupted dryly. “Go on.”

Bellara forged ahead, unbothered. “But I’ve noticed... something between you and Rook. The way you two sneak glances at each other, honestly.... it’s adorable. Like one of those stories where they don’t kiss until chapter thirty, but the tension is delicious. She’ll probably tell you, one star-filled night in Treviso, that you’re the only person who’s ever made her feel safe. And, in the end, you’ll save each other. Classic.”

“You got all that just from me looking at someone and smiling?” Lucanis muttered.

“Uh-huh.” Bellara’s energy remained as bouncy as ever. “I swear, I’m writing this down later. The Assassin’s Promise—a tale of love, danger, and...”

“Bellara,” he cut her off, his tone sharp. “If you write anything about me, I’ll swap your sugar for salt the next time I cook.”

“Fine, fine,” she relented, though her grin said otherwise. “All I’m saying is maybe you should pick some flowers for Rook. Take them back to the Lighthouse. I think she’d love them.”

Lucanis regarded her for a long moment, then knelt again, plucking a few blooms. He wrapped them carefully in his handkerchief and tucked them into the small pouch he usually reserved for poisons.

“I knew it!” Bellara squeaked, clapping her hands.

Lucanis shot her a look and sighed, “What exactly did you know?” His tone was flat, but a flicker of curiosity lingered.

“That underneath all the grumpiness and doom, you’re just a big softie. A romantic at heart!”

Lucanis rolled his eyes so hard that Bellara feared they might stick.

“I assure you, Bellara, whatever you think you know, you don’t.”

“Mm-hmm. That’s exactly what someone in denial would say.” She clasped her hands behind her back and practically skipped alongside him as they headed back to the Eluvian. “You’re going to give those flowers to Rook, aren’t you? You should. She’d love them. She’d look at you with those big, doe eyes and probably blush to her ears. So sweet.”

“Bellara…” His tone carried a warning, though it lacked bite.

“But I digress,” she continued breezily. “If you’d rather be the brooding type who stares longingly across the room and never acts on his feelings, that’s fine too. Classic slow-burn. Delicious tension. So much angst.”

Lucanis stopped abruptly, fixing her with a flat stare. “Do you ever stop talking?”

“Not when it’s this much fun.” Her grin was unapologetic.

For a moment, Lucanis debated whether or not to toss her into the nearest river. Ultimately, he decided against it, if only because she’d probably swim back with more commentary. Instead, he shook his head, whispered something in Antivan to himself, and resumed walking.

Bellara trailed behind him at a respectable distance or perhaps a strategic one, but she couldn’t resist one last parting shot. “Just think about it, Lucanis. You, Rook, flowers, romance… a story for the ages!”

Lucanis didn’t dignify her with a response, though his fingers brushed the pouch at his side, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips.