#i will say that the trains don't go everywhere

[profundcherrylady]

SINGLE DAD!SAE ITOSHI

A/N: CHRISTMAS SPECIAL! Yeah I know it's past New Years and technically mid January, I just took a looong time writing this, hope y'all like it tho.

Warnings: None I think. Just a little swearing.

Contents: Rin being a bad babysitter lol. VERY unrealistic btw there is no way none of this could be like an actual situation that could happen in real life. Very, very bad parenting because WHY would Sae let any of this happen tf.

Description: On a displeasing turn of events, Sae has to spend Christmas eve at work, in Spain. But that's not going to stop his daughter from making her Christmas wishes come true.

"...What do you mean, she's gone?" Sae's voice was starting to sound anxious, even on the other side of the phone. Missing? His daughter was missing on Christmas eve? How could this happen? If he was there, he would for sure give Rin something more than just a piece of his mind for losing his daughter.

"Exactly what you're hearing. She's not here." he explained, still looking around under tables and inside cabinets in case she was secretly playing hide and seek again. "I checked her bedroom, the bathroom, your room, the kitchen... it's like she disappeared on thin air."

"That's impossible. Why did you leave her alone in the apartment in the first place?"

"Because she is refusing to move from her room. Well, she was. Now I have no clue of where the hell she is! You know this is your fault, right?"

"Excuse me? Tell me how I'm at fault for you losing my daughter."

"She wouldn't stop asking about you; she was heartbroken when you told her you'd spend Christmas at Spain without her, saying she wanted to be with you and asking when you'd come back. She was so depressed she didn't even want to eat. I even bought her a bunch of presents but she said it'll not be the same without you here, and you know damn well that brat's spoiled. She wouldn't reject any gifts if she wasn't depressed, depressed."

"First of all, do not call her a spoiled brat." he responded. "Second, fine. Leave it at that and just focus on finding her, where could she have gone to? Somewhere that reminds her of me maybe? She must've left something behind, keep looking!"

"I'm looking, chill." he entered the little girl's bedroom once again. Just as he saw before, it was empty and quiet, no sight of her favorite bunny plushie either which meant she must have gone somewhere. She always took that thing everywhere. He peeked under the bed but there was nothing, then finally stood back up.

A paper.

Rin's eyes widened at the sight of a paper on the bed, and he quickly rushed to read it.

"Rin?" he hushed his brother on the other of the phone. The handwriting was messy and childish so it was definitely hers, and as he read line through line his eyes widened even more.

"Fuck."

"What? What is it? Did you find something?"

"So... you're not gonna like what you're going to hear. She left a note... it says she was heading to you."

"Me?" he repeated, absolutely on disbelief. "I'm in Spain."

"Yeah, she seems to know that." the younger Itoshi continued to read the note, this time out loud. "...'Dear uncle Rin, I miss papa, I don't wanba wait anymore...'? Guess she meant 'wanna'. Uh... 'Chridthsma I dunno how to spell it but you know what I mean. Too lonely! I wanna see papa, so I'll go suprise him. I wanna spend tomoreow with him. Thanks uncle Rin! Plz don't throw out my presents that you bought me. Bye-bye'. And that's it."

"WHAT? She can't come all the way to Spain just to see me."

"You bet she can't; she's under eighteen. Relax, she can't travel alone just like that; she won't go far. I'll just go to the airport."

"Okay... that's true, but she wouldn't give up that easily; I'm pretty sure she knows she can't go on a plane alone, so..." then the realization hit him. "The train."

"What?"

"The TRAIN. She'll take the train from Japan to Europe, then from Barcelona to where I'm at on Madrid."

"Sae be fucking for real. Do you seriously think a six-year-old planned all of that?"

"Believe me, she's capable. She's seen those trains before, and she would for sure be too scared to go to the airport."

"And where do you think she'd get the money to travel?"

"Her allowance."

"You give a six-year-old an allowance?"

"STOP asking questions and go to the train station for her!"

"Okay, relax, I'm heading out."

But unfortunately for Rin, little Mao was already on the train station ready to head out to a whole another continent just to see her father. She had packed well (she broght her stuffed bunny) and ate breakfast before heading out (cookies from the kitchen counter); she was even well dressed for the occasion (she put on her jacket).

She was at the train station now, waving hello to the person selling the train tickets.

"Can I go to Spain, please?" she asked excitedly.

"Well, hello. You're taking a trip with your parents? Where are they?"

"My papa is at Spain." the man let out an 'oh' after hearing that.

"On Christmas eve, whithout his family? Must be something important. I'm sorry, though, I can't sell you a ticket to another country without any parental supervision."

"But... I already got all the way here."

"Sorry, kid, it's against the rules. I mean, if you had another parent or someone that can go with you I'd gladly let you go to Spain and see your dad."

"My uncle already said no... that's why I walked here all by myself... in the snow..."

"Well, if he said no it must be for a reason. What about your mom?"

"She isn't alive anymore. My dad and my uncle are pretty much all I have."

"Oh..." now he was starting to feel bad about this poor kids and her sad puppy eyes.

"I just wanted to see my papa on Christmas eve... he said he'd send me presents but I just wanted a hug from him. That was my only Christmas wish... but I guess it won't come true... hopefully he won't miss new year's too... or my birthday... I don't wanna keep seeing him through a screen anymore..."

"Okay, okay, okay, fine." he gave up; this teary-eyed child was going to kill him from sadness. He couldn't just send her home all sad like that. "Fine... I'll make some calls, I'll get you a train ticket to Barcelona. But you have to follow my instructions, okay? Going to another country is a big deal."

"Really? Thank you, mister! Now my Christmas wish is gonna come true!" the man took the phone aside from him and started making calls to arrange everything.

"Just let me see your passport and we'll see what we can do."

"You missed her? Really?" Sae was exasperated at this point. He was confident that they wouldn't let a kid travel to another continent, but apparently they were more incompetent than he thought.

"Listen, I got here as fast as I could. It's Christmas eve and there's snow all over; traffic was horrible." Rin explained, looking over his shoulder where the person in charge was showing him the security footage where they let Mao buy a ticket and get on the train. "I asked and it seems like her train just left. She bought a ticket to Barcelona and she's now on her way to you, but don't worry too much, they told me they got someone from the staff to keep an eye on her."

"That's not as bad as it could be, but what now? I have a match today, she knows that. I told her I wasn't missing Christmas at home just because. I'm busy preparing but if she's already on her way that I might have to cancel."

"Don't get too ahead of yourself just now, her train just left. It's like 19 hours from now, and it has two connections in Portugal and France. It'll take her a while to actually get to you."

"Still, the game is tomorrow at 2:00pm. I don't know if I can concentrate in training if my child is somewhere in Europe. Just thinking about it is getting me on my nerves... I know I can't do anything until she's here but I still feel the urge to go looking for her."

"Listen, it's going to be fine. Nothing will happen to her on the train and once she gets to Spain she only has to buy another ticket from Barcelona to Madrid and then you can do something about it, but do not call off the game because of this. People are counting on you to show up, you know? Seriously, just focus on getting ready and everything will get sorted out. Even if you don't go and look for her, I think she made it clear that she's going to find her way to you."

"I suppose there's some truth in what you say, but it still doesn't feel like something a responsible parent would do. I'm just worried."

"And you don't think I am? She's still my niece; if anything bad happens to her it'll all be my fault."

"It sure will be, you better take the damn responsibility if something happens to my daughter."

"Why do I bother telling you anything? Whatever, I'll call you later."

"France and Portugal were pretty, right?" the assistant from the train watched Mao as she nodded her head with a smile. "You took a big nap earlier; must feel a lot better, hm?"

"Yeah, but I'd really like to get to Spain now..."

"Don't worry, sweetie. Look, we're already here." she almost jumped off her seat when she heard that, holding her plush bunny tightly. The woman from the train helped her gather her stuff and get off, then sweetly waved her goodbye from the inside of the train. "Take care, okay? You're almost there!"

"Bye, miss! Thank you!" Mao waved as well as the train's gates closed off again, then turned around to head to the front desk and buy a ticket to Madrid.

Looking around, she almost bumped with a couple of people who spoke in a language she didn't quite understand and seemed pretty confused to see a foreigner child alone at the train station. She ignored it, as she was busy being amazed at the difference between this place and her hometown, but she kept going until she finally got the front desk where the person in charge looked down at her.

"¿Qué?"

"Hi! Um... I wanna go to Madrid." she pointed to the screen behind the man, so even though he didn't understand the kid he knew what she was trying to say, and he answered accordingly.

"Madrid? ¿Pero qué quiere hacer una niña en Madrid?" she stared, unable to understand a word, and the man finally sighed. "Mo es mi cría ni mi problema. Toma tu boleto a Madrid."

"Thank you!" she took the ticket handed to her and payed the number on the screen and walked towards her next train.

This was it, she was almost there. So close to seeing her father it actually felt unreal! Even when she didn't even spoke spanish she was there! Just a few hours and she would be able to get that hug from him.

Of course, as the hours passed, little Mao ended up spending Christmas eve on the train, but the wait was worth it. When the sun finally went up and Christmas morning came around, Mao Itoshi arrived to Madrid. The city outside the train station was bustling with energy, with big christmas decorations on the local stors and a crowd of people walking around with their children. And so... what now?

Wait.

...What now?

Where WAS Sae? She didn't know. She knew he was in Madrid and that he had a game later, yet that was all. She didn't know where her dad was staying or where could he be now, aside from the stadium where the football game was taking place later, but she didn't know where that was either. The city was huge and full of people; what was she supposed to do now?

"Um... sorry?" she tried asking around for directions, but of course, the locals didn't speak the same language as her. The brushed her off as soon as they realized they weren't getting whatever she was trying to say.

So she continued walking, trying to find anything that might get her in the right direction. At this point, she was tired again. She was only a child after all; she couldn't walk that much without getting exhausted fast, but she kept pushing through. She was on a mission, and the goal was so close; she couldn't possibly give up now. Even if she was tired and cold and hungry... she didn't have that much time before her father's game started, and then she would have to wait even more for that hug!

After a while she stumbled across a café. She didn't have money on her, but she figured she was tired and maybe they could let her just sit for a little bit and rest so that she could get to Sae faster. She held onto her plush bunny a little tighter as she reached for the doorknob and got inside, just to be greeted by a young (yet older from her perspective) woman.

"Bienvenida!" she looked down at the child, and after a couple of seconds she became surprised that she was alone. Peeking outside the door, there was no sight of any parents or older siblings or any responsible adult. She also took note of the fact that her features didn't seem spanish, although they were slightly familiar from somewhere... "¿Hablas español?"

"Um..." the answer to that question was no. She did not speak Spanish, but she didn't know that's what she was asking.

"Ay, probrecita... no te preocupes, ven." she signaled Mao to follow, which she did, and she was sat on a nearby table. "¿Tienes hambre? Ah, es cierto, que no hablas español. Te voy a traer algo de comer, ¿sí?"

After saying a couple more things she didn't understand, the lady finally walked away, so Mao let herself relax for a moment on the tranquility of the almost empty café. The only sounds around were the soothing wirring of the coffee machine on the back, the television set on some corner and the few people that were in there eating. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, resting her head against the table, when the lady came back with a little baked pastry on a plate. She gestured Mao to not worry and just eat it, but before she could actually say anything else she was startled by the sound of another customer cursing out at the TV.

"¿QUÉ?" he exclaimed again, and so she paid a little more attention to the news on there.

"Y ahora, bueno, la noticia que ha tenido a toda España como loca. A las 2:00pm de hoy estaba programado el partido de fútbol que iba a dar lugar en el estadio de Madrid y en el cual iba a participar el llamado prodigio japonés Sae Itoshi. Ha dado muchísimo de que hablar como jugador; se le quiere un montón en su país de origen, y hoy iba a participar en este partido pero de última hora acaba de anunciar que no puede jugar. Es una locura, escúchenme que tampoco me lo puedo creer. El partido ha sido puesto en espera porque Sae Itoshi se está negando a jugar debido a que su hija está desaparecida. Dio algunos minutos de su tiempo para hablar con la prensa hace poco menos de treinta minutos y declaró que aparentemente de vuelta en Japón dejó a su hija al cuidado de su hermano, es decir el tío de la niña, y que... que ha despertado y la niña no estaba! Y en víspera de navidad, además, es que es increíble. Y para hacerlo peor todavía, la niña dejó una nota en su casa diciendo que fue a visitar a su padre, por lo cual Sae Itoshi declaró que su hija está en algún lugar de Madrid y que no puede jugar hasta que no la encuentre. No me creo que esto sea una noticia real gente, pero aquí estamos. Eh... pues ya saben, estén atentos. Sae Itoshi dejó la descripción de su hija para que quien sea que la vea lo pueda reportar o la lleve directamente al estadio. Es una niña de seis años, tiene el cabello oscuro y los ojos iguales a los de su padre; también dice que lleva con ella un... ¿conejo de felpa?"

"Dios mío!" after hearing the news, the lady was certain. This kid in the café was Sae Itoshi's daughter; her description matched and then it made sense that her features seemed familiar. So she was missing and her father was holding the whole football match until he found her... she had to do something!

She waited patiently until Mao finished her little snack and then approached her again, pointing at the TV where they were showing the footage of Sae declaring the facts of her little runaway. The kid gasped, almost trying to reach out to him.

"Papa!" that she could understand. It was very similar to the spanish word "papá" which meant dad so there was no doubt.

"Te voy a llevar con tu papá, ¿bien? Vamos." she offered her hand, which Mao took as the lady shouted that she was going out for a little bit and got out with her.

"C'mon, Sae, be reasonable. You can't just back out of the game like this! Do you know how many people are counting on you?"

"Yeah, the thing is, I don't give a fuck my daughter is MISSING. I was patient enough; I'm not doing anything until she's safe and sound."

"But... Sae! This game is very important for all of us! You're going to make us lose!"

"So you're telling me... a stupid football match is more important than my daughter's life." now THAT made him rethink his words, although not for long, because there was no way he was going to stay quiet with how much was at stake. But the next thing he said was the last straw for Sae.

"N-No... I didn't mean... fuck, Sae, she's been missing two days! Maybe it's time you consider the other possibilities and move on-"

"What did you just say?" his harsh tone and the darkened expression on his face made the whole room go quiet. "I don't care if you lose the game over this, you hear me? But that's my little girl, and if anything happens to her because of this I could never forgive myself, and the fact that you are even suggesting that she could be dead and that I just 'move on' is making me sick. You want me to play today? You better keep that stupid mouth of yours fucking closed or I'll make sure you do. I don't say things twice so you better listen up. I'm getting out of here to find her, understood?"

"Y-Yeah... I'm sorr-"

"Papa!" Sae's expression instantly switched as soon as he heard the familiar voice call for him, and as he turned around, there she was. Safe and unharmed, accompanied by a few security guards from the stadium. His eyes relaxed inmediately when he saw her ran up to him, then he crouched down and opened up his arms as he saw the little girl going for a hug, and once she was on his arms again, he let out a sigh of relief and held her just a little bit tighter. "I missed you, papa!"

Sae stood back up with her still on his arms, and frowned slightly as he looked down at her again.

"You are in very big trouble, young lady. You traveled all across Europe from Japan, through Portugal and France, just to be here. Do you have any idea how dangerous and irresponsible that was? Do you know what could've happened to you? You could've gotten lost, or worse. I am very disappointed; I was worried sick. You don't even speak spanish and you still managed to get all the way to the stadium." he saw her little smile fade away with his words, and he sighed once more as his eyes softened once again. "You must've really wanted to see me today, huh?"

"I did! Papa, I wanted to be with you on Christmas."

"We talked about this, Mao, I sent you lots of gifts back to Japan and we could always videocall today after the game; you didn't need to do all of this."

"But I did need it!"

"How so?"

"Because none of the gifts were what I wanted..."

"What? That's not possible. I sent you everything you said you wanted; I bought you that dollhouse you said was pretty and the dress you said you wanted for Christmas, there were more plush toys and accessories you told me you liked and things from your favorite cartoons. I don't know how I could've missed anything."

"That's okay papa, it's because those are the gifts from you! I did want those but they weren't my Christmas wish."

"Really? None of them?"

"Nope! They were things I wanted but they weren't my Christmas wish. But don't worry, papa, there's no way you could've known. I wrote it on my letter to Santa!"

Oh.

Didn't he tell Rin to check that as well? Damn it, he missed his daughter's Christmas wish and he didn't realize. Of course it didn't come true if he didn't know what it was to buy it...

"Well, can I know what it is? Maybe there's still time to get you whatever it is."

"It's okay, I already have it! It was a hug from you." and then his heart melted down. How could he still be mad after that?

"You little rascal. Why did you tell Santa and not me?"

"I figured he'd talk to you and maybe you would change your mind and go home. But then I found out what was his plan really was! I woke up yesterday and there was a letter under the tree! And it had money and the train schedule so I could get here today! And then a lot of miracles happened, like the person who sold me the ticket and the nice lady from the train and the café and me getting this far without knowing any spanish!"

"You found a letter with money under the tree? I didn't do that..." he whispered, and he certainly knew Rin didn't do it either.

"Of course you didn't; it was Santa!" Sae rolled his eyes and gave her one last hug.

"It still doesn't mean you're free from punishment. You're grounded for a month."

"Why?!"

"You traveled to another continent without permission and you're asking why you're grounded? Hand over that plush bunny, miss."

"Noooo, not that! I'm not gonna do it again!"

"You bet you won't."

"Don't take it, please! He's my best friend."

"I know." he huffed. "Fine. Now, I'm gonna need you to wait for me; I have a game to win."

[luvrrszn]

match point

STANFORD!ART DONALDSON x STANDFORD! FEM READER

summary art goes a little too far in ensuring that nothing ruins your friendship

warnings angst, nsfw (smut), erm probably a shit ton of challengers inaccuracies, happy ending though no worries

a/n guys i'm going crazy i think i play too much block blast...i see blocks when i close my eyes at night

masterlist

Art was a mean, mean person when he wanted to be. He was the sweetest boy growing up, always making sure you were okay after Patrick teased you, always walking you home at night. But after the night the two of you hooked up, everything changed.

His demeanour, and the nuances of your relationship.

Casual, you promised. It was the only thing he would agree to.

No strings attached, no feelings involved. Those were the conditions he set when he agreed to fuck you.

You'd realised you liked him when you were 14, and you'd never stopped since. So, when you promised Art you wouldn't get attached, you did your best to control your feelings.

Mean Art, who secretly has feelings for you too, but doesn't want to ruin your friendship.

—

Mean Art, who constantly reminds you that there are no strings attached.

You lay there on your dorm bed, cunt still dripping his cum as he redresses, pulling his Stanford tennis t-shirt over his head. You grumble, "Are you sure you won't stay? We can put on a movie or something."

His gaze is cold. Condescending, almost. He reminds you, "I'm not your boyfriend. This isn't what we agreed to."

Tears sting at your eyes, and you feel your heart sink. You say, "Yeah, yeah I'm sorry. Forget I said that. Sorry." You turn away, tears dripping down your face as you hear the soft 'click' of the door closing behind Art.

Still, you hold out hope. You've liked him for so long, giving up now would be stupid...right?

—

Mean Art who starts going out with other girls in hopes that you get the hint.

Even though he has absolutely zero interest in anyone but you.

You walk past Art in the dining hall. He's sitting across from some blonde girl, who's eating something off of the spoon in his outstretched hand.

You can feel his gaze trained on the back of your head as you walk off. You hurry off, sick to your stomach, unable to shake the sight of him acting so domestic with someone he had just met.

Because that meant he was capable of being a boyfriend. Just not yours.

In the next few weeks that follow, he's everywhere.

Every time you see him, he's talking with, flirting with, or touching some girl. You see him so often that you start to think that it's only because that you're wishing more than ever to not see him right now.

Or maybe it's because he's making sure you would see him.

—

You decide to go to a frat party to get your mind off of Art. You'd been avoiding him all week, after deciding that you needed to take some time for yourself.

You danced with your roommate, and talked to a few guys from the frat. You barely even noticed when Art walked in. Keyword: "barely".

You've been nursing a bottle of cheap beer for the past half hour, the music suddenly getting too loud, the space getting too crowded.

You need space.

You head upstairs, looking for a bathroom to lock yourself in while you take a breather. Pushing the nearest bathroom door open, you find your gaze meeting Art's.

It doesn't take you long to realise the....situation he's in. He's leaning against the sink, a girl kneeling before him with her lips wrapped around his dick, and his hands tangled in her hair.

Art, being the asshole he is, does not break eye contact with you.

You immediately spin on your heels and slam the door shut.

Anger and frustration boil deep in your chest, but what is the most painful is how hurt you feel.

You beeline straight for the front door, weaving through a mess of dancing, yelling college students. You don't notice Art who follows a few paces behind, and you don't notice how regretful he looks.

"Hey, wait up!"

You don't stop walking. But you don't speed up either. Art catches up to you easily, both of you walking down the driveway. You refuse to look at him because you know if you do, you'll cry. But the anger in you bubbles over as you turn and yell at him, "What the fuck do you want now? What more could you possibly want from me?"

"I just want to talk." He replies, voice soft.

You let out a bitter chuckle, "Art, I think you've made it clear you'll do anything but talk. Actually, no. You've made it clear you don't want to do anything besides fucking me and leaving me feeling like the most pathetic person on earth."

You turn to walk away again, but he grabs your arm before you can leave. For some reason, you don't shake him off.

"Please. Just hear me out." Art begs. His heart sinks, seeing the broken and defeated look in your eyes. Your eyes had always been something he loved about you. How expressive they were, how they always seemed to betray you when you were trying to hide your feelings.

You sigh and nod.

Art hesitates a little, before saying, "Look, I’ve been a total jerk, and I know it. I’m sorry—I mean, really sorry. You don’t deserve that. No one does. But I need to say this because it’s been eating at me. I think—I know—you might feel something for me. And… I feel the same. I do. But here’s the thing. I’m terrified. If we try this and it doesn’t work? I can’t lose you. I can’t risk messing up what we have. You mean too much to me, and I don’t know if I could handle that. So yeah, maybe I’ve been pushing you away because I thought it’d be better for both of us. I just—I don’t know. I’m sorry."

You take a while to process everything he says. He looks at you with the softest gaze you've seen from him in the past two years, and it finally clicks in your head.

He likes you back.

You finally reply, "Yeah, you have been a jerk. And I don’t think you get to decide what I deserve or how I should feel about it. What you said… I appreciate the honesty. But if you think treating me like crap was some noble way of protecting our friendship, you’ve got it backwards. You don’t get to push me away and then expect me to be okay with it just because you’re scared. If you like me, then show it by treating me with respect—friendship or more. If you’re not ready for that, fine. But I deserve better than games and excuses."

His face falls before you add, "But if you’re willing to actually step up—to stop playing it safe and meet me halfway—then I’m here. I’m not asking for perfect, but I won’t settle for less than real. So, it’s your call. Just know that if you’re in, I’m in too."

The grin that spreads across his face is a wide one.

"Oh, I'm definitely in."

[thelittlestspider]

i was thinking about just having some kind of train system for people to use, so i can just send them places if i need to. even if it's probably unrealistic in a post apocalyptic setting like OC. i'm just too lazy.

[altschmerzes]

is it really that hard to let posts about aromantic people who dislike expected engagement with romance (valentine’s day in this instance, but also fictional romance, romance songs, etc) just be about those people. is it REALLY that hard not to derail them and make them about people who feel positively about those things, even when it is other aros. come on. that is the expected stance. that is the Demanded stance from society at large. let me have two inches of breathing room on my own damn posts if i can’t even have it in my own community.

[the-hwaelweg]

Working in publishing, my inbox is basically just:

Article on the Horrors of AI

Article on How AI Can Help Your Business

Article on How AI Has Peaked

Article on How AI Is Here to Stay Forever

Article on How AI Is a Silicon Valley Scam That Doesn't Live Up to the Promise and In Fact Can't Because They've Literally Run Out of Written Words to Train LLMs On

[theorist-fox]

Johnny's invited to dinner

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader x John 'Soap' MacTavish

Word Count: 900

18+

CW: smut!!! this is literally smut. blowjob, handjob, various jobs that don't involve a salary. smug johnny. assertive dom simon but soft with you and you only.

Masterlist 🦊

“Agreed to have ya ‘ere to look, not to talk, MacTavish.” 

Simon’s voice is a growl that unfolds like an earthquake, reverberating in your skull. It cracks at the edges when your lips, wrapped around his cock, slide a little further down.

Johnny stands less than a foot from where you kneel, fully dressed but with his dick in hand, stroking idly and passing his thumb over the slit every now and then. 

“Ach—but she seems to like it.” Johnny’s lips quirk in an impish smile, and his hand travels the space between you and him to tangle his fingers in your hair. “Don’t you, bonnie?” 

Simon pierces Johnny with a look. It’s smothered by the way you moan appreciatively around his cock.

Johnny chuckles hoarsely. “Aye, she does.” 

And then he pushes your head forward—slowly but ever so demanding. You comply, following Johnny’s lead, until your nose is buried in Simon’s curls and your eyes are shining. 

You gag around him. Simon smacks a fist on the bed. 

“Fuckin’ hell.” 

He’s quick to recollect his bearings and uses his thumb to wipe a tear down your cheek. Your eyes crinkle at the corners, and he takes that attempt at a smile as eager consent. One he makes sure to have, once again, by cocking his head inquisitively—you nod, or try to, and he sighs. Gently, Simon smooths the hair away from your forehead in silent thankfulness. 

“Fuckin’ hell, alrigh’.” Johnny grunts, too focused on the sight of Simon’s cock disappearing in your mouth to notice the silent communication happening. He speeds the movement of his hand, tugging at the foreskin right above his glans. “How's she feel, L.T.? Gimme the details.” 

“Shut up.” 

“Nuh-uh,” Johnny tuts. “Ye gotta tell me—been selfish with her for too long. I get why, but don’t keep me in the dark now, uh? Feel like we're past that."

You start bobbing your head, gently guided by Johnny’s hand, while holding onto Simon’s thighs. He feels completely corded, like a rope ready to snap.

This is not what he thought would happen when you offered to have Johnny over for dinner.

But fuck it if he's going to complain.

Your head is cradled everywhere around it like it’s something precious and fragile—Johnny’s hand at the back, Simon’s palms now both at your cheeks.

“She’s warm.” He replies flatly, burying grunts and growls deep in his chest.

“Aye—coulda guessed that.” Johnny huffs. “Elaborate, will ye?” 

It’s then that you shift your head from side to side to accustom your jaw to his girth. Simon’s tip touches somewhere deep down your throat, and you choke around it. Your nostrils flare, and your eyes drown in tears Simon catches with his thumbs. 

“Fuck—” He grunts, rolling his eyes. “She—she’s fuckin’ melting me, Johnny. Tha’ enough?” 

“Yeah?” Johnny croaks. “Takin’ you deep—aye, sir?” 

“’Firmative.” 

“Can see ye bulgin’ down her throat,” he says, and Simon feels the sick need to go and check with his thumb. God help him, Johnny’s right. 

“She’s tight.” Simon pants. 

“Bet she is,” Johnny croaks. “Can’t wait to feel her myself. Right, hen?”

Simon watches you struggle to find a way to reply. You can’t speak because your mouth is busy elsewhere; you can’t nod, or you’ll choke. You opt for your hands, wrapping one around Johnny’s thigh and squeeze, digging your fingernails into the denim of his jeans. He stumbles forward, just a tad closer.

Johnny rewards you by massaging your scalp with his pads, a hoarse hum of approval passing through his lips. 

“Trained her right, L.T.” He chuckles.

Simon gives him a look that would normally freeze him on the spot, but it only prompts Johnny to stiffen and bite back a moan. 

“Didn’t train her, you twat.” Simon huffs gruffly, giving a tender brush of his thumb on your cheek as you work your mouth down his shaft. “She ain’t a dog.”

Johnny’s smirk falters, but Simon’s sure it’s not because he’s being reprimanded by his lieutenant but because he’s on the verge of finishing. Judging by the heavy furrow of his brow, he clearly doesn’t want to—not yet.

“Aye she ain’t.” He agrees, voice cracked and breathy. “But she’s a learner. Look at how she takes ye—that ain’t talent, can’t be.”

Johnny winks at you when he catches you struggling to look up. 

You huff from your nose, rolling your eyes fondly. His lips quirk, and he softens you up by grazing his nails down your scalp until your skin rises in goosebumps.

You push your head back against Johnny’s hand, and he takes that as a sign to go on. 

“That’s fuckin' hard work, right there.” He growls, and then guides your head down Simon’s cock once again. His thighs tighten under your fingertips, spine straight and knotted when you swallow him all the way down.

“Careful, Johnny.” Simon warns through gritted teeth. Even though he’s on the verge of toppling over, his voice still sounds delightfully rich—stern and commanding.

Then, he directs his eyes to you.

Yours soften, probably because his cheeks are awfully pink, and the crinkles of his eyes stretch in that way he reserves for you only. “Alrigh’?

You hum in reply, blinking up at him with clumped lashes and happy, bloodshot eyes.

“Three taps on my thigh when you need, yeah?” He says. “Go on.” 

You tap Simon’s thigh three times. He brushes his thumb down your cheek before placing his hand over Johnny’s wrist at the back of your head.

He squeezes it until his knuckles turn white, and then he nods his way. Johnny swallows a rock lodged in his throat when he meets Simon's hooded gaze.

“Go on, Johnny.” His hand on your cheek remains soft and soothing, but his eyes, locked on Johnny’s flushed face, hold a darkness you’re not allowed to see.

“Make me cum."

Hey!!! We officially reached 1k people so I thought I'd scare you away with some filthy smut.

I love you all. Truly. Thank you for being here and making my days 10 times better.

-theo 🦊

[kngrose]

do you not write for ambessa 👉🏻👈🏻? cuz your sevika headcanons are *chef’s kiss*

𝐀𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐀 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒

WARNINGS: 18+, sexual content, implied voyeurism, body worship, oral, slapping, spanking, dacryphilia, implied age gap, slave/master if you squint, wlw!

from roselí. ᡣ𐭩 : prayers have been answered ^^

SFW

Come, come. Let's talk about it.

I don't think Ambessa strikes anyone as a lovely kind of person. Yes, she is incredibly charismatic, and might even be the love-bombing type, but Ambessa seems to clearly reserve "love" for those closest to her. Well, her version of it anyway.

She won't just walk around with her heart on her shoulder, she's a warrior for hell's sake. And we're all familiar with her opinions on becoming weak at the hands of love.

If you've managed to genuinely catch Ambessa's interest-- not just for her personal gain or a quick fuck-- then you've got a headache coming your way. Like, a migraine.

I want to really emphasize the love bombing because regardless of whether Ambessa is aware of it or not, the relationship will feel this way for a long time. There's a pattern. She's affectionate one day; showering you with praises and soft kisses, sunrise to sunset. You'll have to want for nothing. Gifts and trips, all treated to you by hers truly. Wining and dining, a good fuck. And though all of this is displayed in private, you'll be enamored. Which is exactly what she wants you to be.

And then, she'll be cold and standoffish. Uncaring of your presence or too busy to be bothered. When Ambessa handles business, there's no such thing as making time for you. You'll just have to pacify yourself until she's ready to be bothered with you again.

It'll take you a while to realize, but when you do you can't miss it; she's got an avoidant attachment. She wants to love you and to be loved, but the moment she receives it she's pulling away. She's looking for flaws in you, anything that'll convince herself that you're bad for her, to leave you where she found you.

Constantly creating exit strategies, thinking of petty little arguments to start for no reason, or an insecurity of yours to pick at. She was trained to fight, it's her strong suit in any sense. It's always easier for her to disconnect and dismiss her feelings than to just sit and talk it out. And you'll want nothing to do with her, which is also what she wants.

She just be losing the plot, I fear.

Unfortunately, cycles like this take time to break. Fortunately, she's not going to let you leave! So you have all the time in the world! <3

When you bring this to her knowledge, you'll really have to bring it. Sit her down and let her know she's not moving until she's heard every word that leaves your mouth, wagging a painted finger in her face. And she'll humor you because you've managed to make an impression with her.

She will sit, patiently and leisurely, man spread and all, watching you fuss her out throwing your hands every which way and yelling. And she will have the softest, fondest smile on her face. She'll know you love her at this moment.

She will let you say your piece without interruptions. In fact, she's so quiet that you have to question if she's even listening a few times. And when you catch sight of that little smile you just pause, dumbfounded. And she'll just humor your expression, urging you to continue with a curt wave of her hand.

After this occasion, Ambessa will be relentless. In her mind, anyone willing to fuss her out the way that you have must truly love her. So now, she knows no limits. In the past, Ambessa would have you stay put with some guards while she handled her day-to-day tasks. But now? You tag along with her everywhere.

In meetings, Ambessa has you perched on her lap. Touching you mindlessly as she discusses possible strategies and looks over speeches. Rubbing your thighs, your neck, your arms. You'll find it awkward at first--such a public display of affection-- but you'll have no choice but to get used to it.

She's hand-feeding you everything. Holding your cups to your lips, licking frosting off your mouth. It's a starch contrast to the dynamic your relationship used to have. But, you suppose you shouldn't be surprised at her shamelessness, she's always been a bit... eccentric.

And now, you don't even have to ask her to share her feelings, in fact, you have to tell her that some things are a little TMI because she wants to share everything with you. Everything. EVERYTHING.

Secrets don't exist, she's an open book. Whatever's on her mind, you're going to hear about it. Which in most cases, you can appreciate. She'll open up about her past and all of the things that have led her up to this point. She'll speak of her daughter, Mel, expressing a regret that she's never opened up to her about. And she'll talk about the effects you have on her personally.

These moments are heartwarming, cause it solidifies your bond.

Undoubtably, Ambessa is a very possessive woman. She's very adamant about expressing to everyone that you belong to her. Not necessarily in a verbal sense, but people will know. They'll know when they see the lingering touches she leaves, the elongated glances, the kisses. Again she's very shameless, so don't let these things take you by surprise.

She's also very protective. She does like to have you tag along with her everywhere, but every now and then she'll leave you with Rictus while she goes to handle more trying situations. You know, the ones where she may potentially commit a war crime or two.

She'd much rather you be locked away than have to protect you on the battlefield. Though she's positive you know of her capabilities, she wouldn't like to have you see her in that light regardless. She'll go to great, violent, bloody lengths to keep you safe.

Besides her shameless physical touch, Ambessa likes to show her love with flashy gifts and large bouquets of flowers. She likes to collect things from all the places she's been to gift to you; know that every time she's out, she thinks of what you might like to have.

She also likes to share knowledge. She finds that to be one of the biggest displays of love; sharing one's knowledge of the world and life. Things you can can learn from. She will really appreciate and admire the fact that you look up to her as a mentor, and especially loves it when you ask for her opinion or perspective. It shows that you rely on her.

And she likes to be relied on!

She has a tendency to just walk around naked, and not for any particular reason other than the fact that it’s, “Comfortable, sweet thing.” It doesn’t matter what time of the day it is, if she has leisure time to waste, she’ll be naked. And she likes to be watched; “I worked hard for this body, honey..” She’ll say, flexing her arms at you.

She takes great pride in her form and in her strength. She likes to lift you up randomly just to showcase it. She’ll always pick you up when she hugs you, gripping your thighs loosely or not at all. You could honestly just hang onto her, dropping all of your weight. It wouldn’t make a difference.

She never fails to fluster you at any given chance. Every time you’re having a conversation she’s holding the strongest eye contact, chuckling to herself when you avoid her gaze. She'll randomly grip your chin, or caress your face. Sometimes twirling the hair by your ears. She likes to see you get all flustered because of her. It genuinely makes her day. That's why she does it so much.

She's old! Lol, you'll have to keep her updated with the new slang and terms of endearment. If you're someone who incorporates a lot of slang into your vocabulary, you'll often receive sideways glances of confusion before she stares at you and mutters, "...What?"

NSFW

I’m going to say it again; she’s shameless.

She has no qualms. Like, at all.

She loves to put on a show. She loves to be ogled at, it strokes her— already large enough— ego. More often than not, she’ll shove you down onto the bed, and with a calculated slowness, she’ll begin to undress, maintaining eye contact with you throughout. Her eyes always smoldering with a mix of passion and a touch of dominance.

And she’ll study you closely for your reaction, loving the look of pure awe on your face as she stands nude before you. Her voice, a low and husky murmur, would echo through the room, "See something you like, my dear?" and she’ll hum in approval at the soft, “Yes, Ma’am” she receives in return.

Ambessa appreciates a well mannered slut.

Most times, Ambessa will request that you massage her, all over. She loves it; It fulfills her desire to be worshipped. She loves to watch you take your time and rub every part of her, smirking down at you as you get lower and lower.

Ambessa will lean back slightly, her expression transitioning into a devilish smirk. Her free hand slowly tracing a path along the contours of your body. She watches you like a hawk, a smirk ever present on her lips.

When you start to kiss down her body a contented sigh will escape her lips. She’ll run her fingers through your hair, gently but firmly guiding your movements. Her head will tilt back, her eyes half-lidded with satisfaction. Each touch, each kiss, draws out a low and guttural sound from her throat, her desire evident in the way her body responds to your ministrations.

And the hand in your hair will tighten as she shoves your face in between her legs, a knowing glint in her eyes, “You know what to do.” And her body tenses as you start to eat her pussy, the hand in your hair tightening almost painfully as she groans.

She requires eye contact; she wants you to watch her come undone on your mouth. It’s like a reward, no? Watching the effect you have on her. She wouldn’t want you to miss the way she leans her head back, her hips rutting against your tongue at a steady pace, glancing down at you as she murmurs, “Good girl.”

And she won’t miss the hand that you trail down to your pussy, toying with yourself impatiently. A leisurely chuckle will fall from her lips, “Patience, Darling.” She’ll always say, pulling your hair to angle your head just right so she can fuck your face better. “Patience.”

And soon her breathing will turn shallow, Ambessa's grip on your hair impossibly intensifying, her fingers tangling in your locks as she guides your movements. Her control momentarily slips as she succumbs to the pleasure you're giving her.

And when she cums? She’ll pull your head back playing idly with the mess on your face, “Tsk… now you’re all dirty,” She’ll mutter, before leaning down and licking it off your chin. She’ll meet your lips in a sloppy mess of a kiss, groaning softly at the taste. And when she pulls back she’ll admire the look on your face, taking a mental photo of it. “Pretty…”

I think Ambessa would have a thing for teasing you. She likes to put you in uncomfortable positions. Make you put yourself on display in risky places. Loves touching you under tables. It just warms her core to see you so flustered, really riles her up. Especially so if you start crying, she’ll just squeeze your cheeks in her hand and snicker at you, “Ohhhh, you poor thing,” She’ll chuckle, and peck your puckered lips.

I already mentioned that Ambessa loves it when you’re well-mannered, it’ll quite literally get you anything your heart desires. You ask her nicely to make up cum? She’ll do it in a heartbeat. “With my mouth, or with my hands?” She’ll raise a brow, “Or with something else?” You use your manners with Ambessa like a good girl and she’ll be at your beck and call.

Laying you on your stomach softly to pull your ass in the air and eating your pussy until you squirt all over her mouth, and she won’t let a drop go to waste. She’ll trail her thick tongue from your clit all the way to your ass and back, over and over and over, circling the hole playfully before spitting onto it, the spit trailing back down. It’s truly a beautiful sight, she thinks.

Do you want her to fuck you with her fingers? They’re thick. You’ll hardly need two of them to satiate that churning in your core. Perhaps you want a massage of your own? Want her to suck on your pretty feet? Maybe you want her to talk you through your orgasm and praise you softly in your ear while you cum on her fingers? Everything all at once? No request is too far for Ambessa. She likes to worship her pretty thing; and loves to appreciate your body. Especially when it’s well deserved.

But when you’re ill mannered? Ambessa will show you exactly how she became a warlord.

Don’t expect any pleasure from this outcome. It’ll be hard. It’ll be brutal. And you’ll wish you’d never mouthed off at her the way you did. “What did we learn?” She’ll growl, above you, slapping your ass with a powerful force, “Quickly.” She’ll order.

And she’ll hum as you blubber loudly about being respectful, but her abuse will not stop. She will continue to keep you over her knee, slapping at your ass and thighs relentlessly. And when she’s done with that? She’ll have you on your knees, facing up at her with your hands folded politely over your lap. And you’d better pay extra attention to your posture or she’ll punish you for that too.

You’re never prepared for the swat to your cheek. “What are we not doing in the future?” She won’t falter at the cry that leaves your mouth, her gaze stone-cold and unwavering. She’ll swat your cheek again, slap, “I said, quickly.” And again, she won’t be moved by your blubbering until she’s satisfied-- until she believes you’ve learned a lesson.

And she’ll always be sure to pacify you until you’ve calmed down, offering you water and comfort, but still being stern enough that you remember your place the next time around. She’ll be sure to build you up just as she’s broken you down, affirming you gently. And you’ll fall back into her, blubbering your apologies.

She’ll conceal a smirk.

She loves to see you cry.

please let me know if you would like to be added to my taglist to be notified everytime i post, xx

taglist: @opropheticsoul

[eclips-moon]

Batboys finding you sleeping in wierd places headcanon:

Damian Wayne

"Bro, you can't keep doing this." Damian finds you sleeping in the weirdest spots, and he's lowkey over it. One time, you're passed out in the Batmobile, snacks everywhere, legs hanging out the door. He just stands there, staring at you like you're the most chaotic thing he's ever seen. “How do you even fall asleep like this?” But of course, he’s not gonna leave you there. He rolls his eyes, adjusts the seat, and tucks you in (very dramatically) like, “Don’t make this a habit.” He’s not mad. He’s just... concerned? But mostly shook by your ability to sleep anywhere.

Tim Drake

“I literally told you to stop drinking so much coffee.” Tim finds you asleep everywhere—face down on a stack of papers, in the middle of the Batcave, on top of the Batcomputer. He doesn’t even act surprised anymore. He’s just like, “Well, I warned you.” One time, you’re passed out on the couch, snacks everywhere, and Tim picks up the coffee cup you definitely spilled while napping. “I love you, but this is chaos,” he says, brushing some crumbs off your face. "Next time, please at least use the chair." He leaves a note with your next coffee: “You’re welcome.”

Dick Grayson

“You’re so cute, but like, also... why???” Dick finds you asleep in the kitchen, spread out on the counter like you’ve been hit by a truck. He can't help but laugh, but also he's lowkey impressed that you managed to fall asleep there. He pulls out his phone and takes a pic (because of course he does). “I’m definitely showing this to everyone,” he says, not even hiding his grin. You wake up mid-photo, trying to act like you weren’t drooling, but Dick just chuckles. "Gonna frame this one." You’re like, “Please, no,” and he’s already texting it to the group chat.

Jason Todd

“You’re literally doing this to mess with me, aren’t you?” Jason finds you sleeping everywhere—on the floor, under the Batmobile, sprawled out on the roof. He’s got that annoyed big brother vibe, like, “You’re going to get a crick in your neck,” but the second he sees you all cute and dead to the world, he can’t help but sigh. One time, he even gently picks you up to move you. You wake up in a daze, and he’s like, “I didn’t sign up for this. But you look adorable when you're asleep, so whatever.” “No need to carry me, I’m fine,” you mumble. “I’m doing it because I have no choice,” he responds.

Duke Thomas

“How do you even sleep like this?” Duke is actually concerned when he finds you sleeping in random spots, but at the same time, it’s kinda funny. One time, he finds you passed out on the floor of the training room, head on a punching bag like it’s your pillow. He’s like, “You... you okay? How does that even happen?” He sits down next to you and gives you a little nudge. “You’re making me look bad, you know that? I’m over here trying to be all cool, and you’re taking naps in the middle of the Batcave.” He laughs but also kinda adjusts you, “Next time, at least use a pillow or something.”

Bruce Wayne

“You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?” Bruce, being Bruce, finds you sleeping in the weirdest places—and honestly, he’s just not even shocked anymore. One time, you’re passed out on top of the Batcomputer, legs dangling off the side like you’re part of the furniture. Bruce just stares for a second before doing the whole “I’m-not-angry-I’m-just-disappointed” thing. “Please don’t sleep in here,” he says, carefully moving you to a more... comfy spot (probably your bed, but he’s not gonna say that). He tries to keep it chill, but there's definitely a dad vibe. "You could’ve at least stayed on the couch." You wake up, confused, and he’s like, “Just... don't fall asleep in the Batsuit next time.”

[bluetimeombre]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ And I wouldn't marry me, either part 2

You were Azriel's mate, but it took losing you three times for him to realise.

[thank you for the love on part one, I’m so happy Azriel is getting the love he deserves!!!! This is another long one, another 6k. But I’ve learnt a new love for writing about him and i have so many ideas. This is a continuation and final part, part one here. Enjoy]

warnings: references to sexual assault and references to suicide. nothing explicit but please don't read if this is sensitive to you.

The third time Azriel almost lost you, he was pretty sure he lost a part of himself.

They'd all gone into battle, knowing that Hybern had the numbers to match and the advantage. But they'd all gone to fight in spite of that.

It had took some time for you to get the boys to agree to let you fight- you'd trained and grew up with all three of them but this was fighting on another scale. Although, if they were going, there really wasn't much they could say to get you to stay.

You were clad in Illyrian leathers just like them, armed with weapons and power.

The first battle was over quicker than you'd anticipated. Hybern soldiers surrendered, Tarquin drowned them on land. You'd suffered little, only falling on bed exhausted by the end of the day. Sadly, you were sharing a tent with Cassian and Azriel. It was like you were young again, all sleeping in the same room. It was a habit you'd done when you were young- all looking out and protecting each other.

The only difference was that Cassian snored as he got older.

But the next battle was worse.

It was bigger than last. Hybern's forces had doubled, seemingly at of nowhere, cutting their forces apart.

It was chaos, everywhere. Every corner there was fighting and bleeding and dying. There was pain all around you. Pain you felt like it was your own.

You used all your power, as much as you could to kill and protect. From the corner of your eyes you could see Azriel fight. Your Azriel, weaving in and out of people. Your mate. He was alive. And that was all you cared about.

But you didn't realise how much you'd been pushing herself and draining your power. Every time you stopped, you swayed on your feet, stumbling.

One of Hyberns men came for you as you were crouched and you barley blocked with your sword, rolling onto your back and slashing his arm off.

Not before he landed a sword in your thigh.

It had been deep burning and you yelled, yanking it out. Even with the wound, you kept fighting and fighting your way through until you saw a blaze of red and a familiar cry.

Cassian.

He'd been run through.

It was easy to push past exhaustion and winnow to his side, killing the man who'd been near him and any others that had been close enough. You fall to your knees next to him. 'Cassian, you prick.'

'You kiss your mate with that mouth,' he gasped. He was the only one who knew about Az and the bond. The only one you'd allow to make jokes.

You look down to his wound and gaged. Mother above, his guts were hanging out. 'No, no, no, come on, big guy, you have to stand.'

He groaned. 'Yea, don't think I can do that, sweetheart,' his eyes, lulled back.

You slap him in the face. Perhaps you wouldn't have felt guilt if it weren't for the way his eyes widened. 'You know I hate being called that.'

He laughed as his stomach and all its contents heaved out. Ignoring the pain in you, you hold his stomach, keeping him together. 'I promised Nesta i'd look after her,' he said. 'Please look after her.'

'Do it yourself,' you groaned.

Finally, Azriel came to your side and picked Cassian up like it was nothing, flying him to the tents. If only you still had your wings, you could have done it, saved him quicker.

Then, you were thrown back into the battle. Covered in his blood and yours, you fought through them all, slashing and killing like it was nothing. Like you had no reason to bat an eyelash at anything happening.

Eventually, it ended, but you couldn't even concentrate on who won or how much you'd lost. Your head ached, your leg was tied up in a bloody bandage ripped from your clothes. But none of that mattered.

Cassian was in bed, healing slowly. But he would live, everyone could tell. Especially with the way he picked fights. He argued with Rhys about throwing himself into danger, him and Nesta appeared to be having words with their eyes. Even Mor and Feyre argued. You were the only one silent with Azriel in the back. Too exhausted to even open your mouth.

That night, you tied up your wounds and fell asleep without changing.

It only got worse.

Elain- Feyre's sister and the most precious- was stolen from Hybern. You had only agreed to go and save her with a few selected others because your mate was in that few selective others.

It hadn't escaped your notice how he looked at her, was watchful over her like he once was with you. You saw the tick in his jaw at the news she was gone. You knew that this was the reason you hadn't told him. Knowing that he deserved someone like her, better than you. Kind and hopeful. You weren't. So the only thing you could do was watch your mate find love in someone else.

And you'd do it grudgingly but happy for him.

Azriel had took of with her. You and your high lady fought, fought through ash arrows and everything.

'You should get out of her, y/n,' said Feyre.

You groaned as an arrow skimmed your shoulder. Another had already got your hip. 'If you try to order me out of here, i'll be really pissed off at you.'

'I don't care if it gets you out!' she snapped, arguing like a real sister would.

'Yea, well- I was never one to listen to Rhys either.'

And Azriel was gone. Everything was fine.

You and Feyre ran, ran even as Tamlin defended you, ran until-

An arrow hit you in the back, straight to one of your old wing scars.

You tumbled, rolling on the ground as it broke and imbedded in your back. You screamed, in spite of yourself.

'You have to fly,' someone was telling you. Or saying it in general, frankly you had no idea what was going on. 'You have to take her.'

You rolled onto your stomach, groaning and trying to get yourself up. There was blood running down your arm, how did that get there?

'Y'n.'

You groaned, 'Azriel. I can't fly.'

'I know, I know- i've got you.' He picked you up, arm under your legs and around your shoulders.

'Elian, Azriel-'

'Feyre has her,' he told you. He sounded angry. Or afraid. Somehow his emotions were very easy to mix up.

'Feyre isn't strong enough.'

'She'll have to be.'

'You should take them, Elian-'

'I don't give a fuck about Elian right now, y'n.'

Just like that, he took off with you in his arms and your blood raining down on the camp of Hybern. You could barley hear anything over the wind... but you could feel it.

Something had tugged painfully at the bond, throwing you into a scream. Something had happened to Azriel. You twisted in his arms, finding gashing claw marks in his back from one of the hounds that had chased them down. His face was bleached white in pain, his hold on you tight.

Glancing around, you could just see Feyre in a blur of people.

'Azriel-' you gasped. He was in pain, so much pain.

He didn't say anything, just squeezed you tighter and looking ahead, barking orders as Feyre flew for the first time in need, in desperation. You remembered what that was like, trusting your life in them. But Azriel's wings, they were bleeding out. You remembered the pain. You'd go through it every day to spare him a minute of it.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You and Azriel landed back in the camp in a blur of pain.

Even with him leaving a trail of blood, he managed to set you down like you were porcelain. You didn't cry out. You didn't yell for help. You threw his arm over your shoulder and supported him.

Nesta and Rhys rushed to Feyre.

You hated your brother for a long moment.

Elain wondered over, chained but whole.

Azriel moved from you, checking on Elian. You only managed to watch them as she kissed his cheek.

The pain came to you then. Your head, shoulder, back. You turned from the crowd of family. Elain moved to hug her sister, Rhys stayed at Feyre's side.

Thesan, someone you barley knew as more than a healer, came to you first but you pushed him away, pushed him to Azriel. 'His wings. Heal him, or i'll rip you to pieces.'

He didn't have to be told twice.

You stumbled your way to camp, to your little tent. You didn't share it with Cassian anymore as he was still healing and Azriel would be a while- needing healing of your own.

You collapsed on the bed, promising to look after yourself- just after your nap.

You were so fast asleep you didn’t even hear Azriel come in and sigh at the sight of you…

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Azriel was fighting when it happened. Specifically, when it snapped.

Mate. Mate. Mate.

No, he wasn't completely healed. But he had to fight. He wouldn't push himself, he knew that would be stupid. But he wouldn't watch as everyone fought. As you fought. He'd hardly seen you. He knew your back would be in pain. He knew you'd be in pain and you were still fighting, so far from him and out of reach.

He was thinking of you when it snapped.

Mate. Mate. Mate.

His soul sang it, his heart rose with it.

His shadows whispered it.

Mate. Mate. Mate.

y/n.

And the first thing he felt over the bond wasn't happiness or love. It was pain. It was death.

Mate. Mate. Mate.

In spite of the pain in his wings, how he'd been told not to fly, he did. He jumped into the skies, soaring over armies and dead to find you. He followed that pain, he followed the bond until he found you.

You, lying in your own blood. Again.

He fell next to you, his power eradicating anywhere near you. They dissovled, the ground cracked under him and his syphons shone in raw power.

'y/n?' he held your body, shaking you. Blood, so much. A sword had torn through your gut. 'Don't do this to me.'

Mate. Mate. Mate.

You cough, a thin stream of blood rolling from your lips. 'Azriel?'

'You're mine,' it was the first thing he could bring himself to say. 'You're my mate. Y/n. You have to hold on, ok? I'm gonna-gonna get you to safety.'

Something like a laugh escaped you, your body wracking with it. 'Of course, finally snaps for you as i'm dying.'

Snaps for you. Mate. Mate.

She knows, his shadows sung. She's known.

Azriel called out to Rhys in every way he could. 'We're gonna be fine. We're gonna be mates, y/n. You have to live, you understand?'

'Not really.' your eyes flutter shut.

'No!' he yelled, shaking you again.

'What's happened?' Rhysand landed next to him, blanking when he saw you in Azriel's arms, bleeding to death. How many times did this have to happen? How many times would you throw yourself into danger?

'She's my mate,' Azriel repeated. He tested it out loud, speaking it to the mother. How cruel was she? to give him this then try to take her away. Well, the mother wouldn't get that chance. Azriel would fight her if she tried to lay a hand on your life.

'What?' said Rhys.

'My mate,' he all but growled as Rhys got closer.

He put a hand on the back of Azriels neck, a hand on your head. 'We have to save her, Az.' he knew all about mating of course, knew that Azriel wanted nobody around her. But this was too save her. 'She's my sister too, the last sister I have. I care about her to.'

Azriel wanted to throw a thousand insults his way but refrained. If not because he was high lord, but also because you were dying.

They got you to safety, Azriel carrying you through to a tent.

'Y/n?!' Cassian rushed over, seeing you in his brothers arms, bleeding out and unresponsive.

Azriel pushed past him, setting you down on the bed. 'Get everyone, every healer now.' He had no idea who he was trying to demand, but he couldn’t watch this, couldn’t see you in.

You were still in your bed. Behind him, Feyre rushed to her mate, wrapping her arms around his torso as your brother stared at you in muted horror.

Azriel was leaning over you, sitting on the edge of the bed. ‘She’s my mate.'

'What?' Said Cassian, ‘She told you?'

Azriel felt the world stop around him. Not did you know about the bond and hadn’t told him, you’d told someone else? Cassian? His hand stilled in brushing your hair back, his shadows coaxing you instead.

Rhysand spoke what Azriel wanted to scream. 'You knew?'

'She-She told me,'

Azriel had always had an iron fist control on his emotions, as relied on to be spy master, he had to. But his patience was hanging on by a thread. You were still bleeding out and nobody had come and Cassian knew. Cassian knew about his mate before he did.

His shadows caressed you and, leaving you in the coolness of their touch, he leapt up, marching around the bed toward him.

Rhys was quicker, a hand on Azriels chest to stop him. 'Calm, brother.'

'Calm?' He seethed. 'When-how long have you known?' He shouted.

Cassian breathed out, pushing his hair back . His wings were tucked in behind him. 'She told me, before she went under the mountain.'

Even Rhysand let him go, blowing out air and throwing his arms over his head as Feyre gasped.

Azriel stumbled, a hand to his chest. His shadows were divided between him and caring for you. 'Fifty years,' he gasped.

You’d known for fifty years- possibly longer and hadn’t said a word.

He was panicking, his breath escaping him. His shadows settled uneasy around him. And the only person who was capable of calming him was laying unconscious.

Thesan burst in, knowing the injured already and working on you quickly.

Azriel almost launched at him, just for touching you. The reasonable part of him knew he needed to touch to heal, but the part that was your mate wanted him dead.

Cassian held him back, physically.

Azriel glowered at him. 'I wouldn’t touch me if i were you, brother,' he practically spat the words.

Rhysand left Feyre with a kiss on her cheek, coming to Azriel who was looking over you on the other side. 'Az, you need to rest-you’re hurt, too, remember?'

He shook his head, staring down at you. Mother above you were pale, so pale. 'I-I can’t feel anything Rhys, I can’t feel her through the bond.'

'My sister is a fighter, she’ll make it through.'

Azriel scoffed. His shadows were caressing up and down your arm. ‘Don’t pretend you’ve ever cared about her like a brother.'

Rhysand inhaled sharply. This was just fear, he told himself. 'Azriel.'

'No,' he said, his finger brushing back your hair. 'You only care about her when she’s dying and all y/n does is worship you- ever since you were children.'

Cassian tried to advance, 'Azriel, you wouldn’t be saying any of this if y/n wasn’t hurt.'

He laughed, bitterly. 'No, I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t have to. I’d bite my tongue. But your sister is dying and the last time you cared was the last time she almost died- it killed her to lose her wings and you were never there! And you teach your mate to fly right in front of her!'

Rhys growled. ‘Don’t bring my mate into this!'

‘You’ve brought mine into this!' He yelled. 'Everything she does is for you. Working for you. My mate followed you down to the mountain even when you didn’t care.'

'Of course I cared.'

'Then why did she feel so alone down there!'

‘How would you know, Azriel? You weren’t there!'

'Because I know her, bond or not. And you’ve been otherwise occupied.'

Cassian moved between the two, holding them apart. 'None of this matters to y/n does it.'

Azriel blankes them all, settling next to you. He vaguely heard Cassian send Rhysand and Feyre away. He felt him longer before he felt him leave.

And then all Azriel could feel, was you.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You felt pain first. The steady thumping of it through your body. It started in your leg, numbing it. Then, her back ached- a familiar pain you'd felt before. It sent panic through you before you realised they can't take your wings twice.

Then, it was in your gut, stinging. Just the thought of moving was hurting- aching.

There was a coldness around you, draped over like shadows. Shadows...

That's when you felt the tug that you'd neglected to feel for more than half a century.

The bond. There was finally something tied to the other end.

The shadows around you must've known you were awake as they grew frantic around you.

You opened your eyes, slowly, afraid to what you may see. Afraid to the eyes you'll have to meet.

Azriel was sat on a chair next to you, bare chested with only bandages around him. Immediately, you were at a disadvantage. He was looking at you, dark eyes pouring into yours as his hands curled around shadows.

'What happened?' you asked.

'You were run through,' he said, voice wavering.

'Oh.'

'You're my mate.'

Your eyes flickered away, staring at your tent. 'Oh.'

'That's it?' he whispered. There was some heart-break tainting his voice. 'You're not gonna say something?'

You pulled the blanket over you, daring to move to sit up. He shifted, but his shadows helped you. 'What do you want me to say, Az?'

'Why did you tell Cassian and not me?' he asked. 'Why didn't you tell me, for fifty years?'

'It's-it's not a big deal.'

'Not a big deal?' he all but seethed. 'I'd say finding your mate is a pretty big thing, y/n. It's the person to spend the rest of your life with.'

'Can we not, do this now?' you winced, as the words left your mouth.

'You're right, maybe we should wait another fifty years to bring it up when you're dying.' you've never heard him be so cruel, you'd never even argued with him before this.

'I wasn't dying,' you mumbled.

He scoffed. 'You had an infected wound in your leg that you didn't tell anyone about. An ash arrow was imbedded in your back. Imbedded! You didn't see anyone about it and then- you run into battle and get yourself stabbed.'

'I didn't get myself stabbed!' you argued, your temper rising above all other judgment. 'I didn't rush out in there, wanting to die!'

'I held you as you bled out!' he yelled, standing up from his seat. You were swinging your legs over the bed, ignoring every twinge in your body. 'Do you have any idea what that's like? Not even to hold you as you die in my arms the first time but the second. And to know this time, I was holding my mate?'

You bit down on your lip. He had to use the word with such care and love even when angry. You could feel it. For once, guessing his emotions wasn't needed as you felt it all. The taunt anger in him, the pull of anxiety and above all else, the weight of his love.

Azriel walked around you. 'Please, you have to tell me. Why didn't you say something to me? Why wouldn't you tell me you're my mate? Am I that repulsive to you?'

'What?'

He gulped.

You shook your head as he knelt in front of you, shadows pooled around the two of you, as if they were trying to hold the two of you together. You took his hands, holding them and let something like love flow down the bond. 'You are the most beautiful thing in this world. Something better than me. I wouldn't burden you with that.'

He rose his gaze to you. 'Burden me?'

'Do you think i've enjoyed lying to you?' you ask, finally finding your words. 'Do you think I've liked being your mate and never being with you? That I left you for fifty years and thought of you every moment of every day, all day long. That when I come back I wonder if you or Mor had grown closer? Or if Elian would finally tell you how much she loves you? It's been eating me alive. But it's a small price to pay.'

Azriel grasped at his words, chocking on them. 'Elian is nothing to me, nothing.'

You pushed yourself up, using his shoulder to steady yourself before you move around him. 'Why? Have you only just decided that because I’m your mate? That’s not how it should go, Azriel.'

He was following you around your tent as you slipped on armour and leathers over your night dress. ‘I want you, only you.'

'Because of the bond?'

'Because I’ve always only wanted you!'

You laugh. 'No, you haven’t.'

'If we’d talked about this maybe fifty years ago you’d know that!'

You shook your head. Perhaps a part of you didn't want to believe him and all those wasted years at your fault, but you didn't want to believe his words either. Because what did that mean? That he loved you and wanted you. But that seemed just as impossible to you. How could he want someone so wrecked who'd done nothing but run away from her feelings and does nothing to make anyone happy?

'I don't want you to feel like that,' said Azriel, approaching her. She thought she'd spoken aloud before she realised he could feel everything that was hers. She'd only ever had to shield her thoughts from her brother- and he rarely sort her thoughts. 'Please, please-' he took your shoulders, turning you around and gently resting his head on yours.

You could feel his warm breath over your lips. You almost lost all resolve, with him that close. You'd never been so close to him, close enough to touch. To kiss. To know finally what it mean to have that deep connection that everyone was meant for.

One person in the whole world to belong to.

And he was stuck with her.

'Azriel-'

'Whatever you're thinking about yourself, i've thought about me a thousand times. And ever since we were kids you've always stopped me from thinking that. You've always told me what I was worth,' he whispered. His hands were wondering down your arms, sending shivers down you. He could've been doing it on purpose, distracting you. 'Why won't you accept it for yourself?'

You gulped down every uneasy thought. 'Because you're good, Az and i'm-'

'You're everything.'

'I'm not,' you look up at him, his own face blurry from your tears unwilling to fall. 'I'm not a fighter, i'm afraid of pain. And I could never be a leader, because i'm scared of losing people. I'm terrified about it half the time. Why do you think I followed Rhys down to that stupid party that I knew I wouldn't come back from? Because he'd do the same for me? We both know he wouldn't. But what would losing him mean for you? or Cass, or Mor? I was a coward and I wanted to hide from all the pain his leaving would have caused.'

Azriel shook his head, words sinking in. You were comparing yourself, to warriors like him and Cass, to the high lord- your own brother. 'It was unbearable without you. Maybe if it was just Rhysand i'd have still been able to be spymaster, because that's what he needed. But when I realised you'd gone to, it ruined me,' he admitted. 'I didn't care what you would've wanted, because you weren't here to tell me.'

You rub at your forehead, the tension creating a pain in your already aching body.

'And to anyone who made you feel inferior or worthless, i'll kill them,' he said. It was a shine of the real Azriel. The one who made a promise and never broke it.

You smirk. 'Can't kill the high lord.'

'No,' huffed Azriel, like it was a mild inconvenience. 'But I sure can punch him in the face.'

You laughed at that and Azriel smiled. He'd cracked you.

But your amusement dropped quickly, he felt it like a penny dropping. He let go of you as you turned away, wiping at your eyes. He didn't want to see you cry, didn't want to be the one to make you upset. He only wanted to make you feel loved.

'This isn't how I wanted this to go.'

Azriel suddenly felt conscious of himself. Maybe this wasn't so much about what you felt, maybe it was more about what you felt toward him. 'You really hate the mating bond that much?'

You look over to him. 'Being your mate is my greatest honour. But I don't want you to love me just because you have to.'

'It's not that-'

'And I know you're gonna keep saying that.'

'Until you believe me,' he assured her. 'Even if I have to tell you every day until I die.'

'I can't ask you to do that.'

He smiled at you, a heart-breaking smile of love. 'You haven't.'

You open your mouth to say something, but you're interrupted by Cassain poking his head through the tent flaps. The rest of his whole body was hidden, only showing his bronze face and hair framing him. There was a sheepish smile on his lips.

Azriel huffed. 'Cassian.'

'What? It didn't sound like much love making going on.'

'Mother above,' you sighed.

'What?' whined Cassian. 'I'm just saying, didn't sound like I was interrupting anything.'

'Personally I didn't know he was capable of saying that many words,' said another voice, familiar and dull. Nesta.

You frown. 'I'm sorry, is the whole camp out there.' You storm out, without Azriel to stop you.

He let you get away, again, and now there was no way he'd get you to accept the bond until the battle was done.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The next time you and Azriel spoke, the war was over.

Elian had stabbed Hybern, Nesta had delivered the killing blow, to the head. And your brother had died.

For those few minutes of his death you wanted Feyre weep for him as you stood paralyzed, unable to move. This was the brother you worshiped, the one you’d follow to the end of the world. Did he know that when he went where you could not follow?

Feyre had done everything she could, she begged for his life back. And when her wish was granted, you were collapsing on his other side. Tears of joy in your eyes that Rhys wiped away.

Your family, safe.

Everyone seemed happy to return to Velaris. Home. Scars were left over everyone, fears and pains. Some wore them better than others.

You'd thrown yourself into life. And avoiding Azriel. Suddenly there were many friends you'd neglected that you needed to take dinner with, or so many spontaneous Rita nights with Nesta.

And none of it escaped his notice. The steady thump of the bond still thrived inside of you, his shadows followed everywhere you went, even loitering in your room.

If he was doing it in an attempt to annoy you, then you weren't gonna break first.

After a particularly harrowing Rita's night, the only thing you wanted to do was sleep in for the rest of the day, hide away from everyone and everything. Call it your coping mechanism.

Alas, there was no peace as your curtains were thrown open, light spilling in and burning through your eyelids.

'Knock it off!' the shadows had never bothered with waking you up before- it seemed they'd picked the worst time to start.

'We need to talk,' said a voice that certainly wasn't a shadow.

Rhysand.

You groan, rolling over. 'Can't you talk to me when i'm not hungover.'

'And when would that be, sister? you're getting as bad as Nesta.'

You throw your pillow off and at him, but he dodged it easily and with a smug smile. 'I hate it when you call me that.'

'What? When I compare you to Nesta? Clean up your act then.' He stood over your bed, his arms folded over his chest.

You glare at him. 'I meant sister.' You shuffled up, brushing your hair back.

Rhysand frowned and perched himself on the edge of your bed. There was something he wasn't saying, and you watched it weight heavy on his shoulders. 'You know the last time I was in your room you were throwing glasses at me and yelling at me to get out.'

'Well, don't give me ideas.'

His lips curled into a smile of amusement before he turned solemn again. 'Do you love me, y/n?'

You hadn't expected that. Your hangover could only get worse, your head swimming with possibilities as to why he was asking. And nervous, you were nervous. Maybe you'd never said you loved him out loud but surely your actions were enough of a tell. 'You're my high lord and my brother, of course.' you shrug it off, as if it was nothing.

The shadows trailed up the bed, as if sensing your anxiety.

Rhysand glanced over at you. 'Do you think I don't love you?'

You hesitate, chewing at the skin of your gum.

'Because I do. I do love you. You're my little sister, how can I not?' he muttered. 'And I didn't know you felt like that.'

'It was just sort of... obvious,' you said. 'I was never your sister, not really. I always knew that. You'd never see me like that so, I gave up thinking you would. But you're the only family I have.'

'No, I'm not,' he denied. 'Y/n, everyone in this house loves you. They're your family. And i'm sorry- i'm so sorry if my actions have ever made you think different.'

'Why now?' you ask, eyes screwed up looking at him. 'Why are you saying all this now, what's changed?'

He shook his head, strands of his hair- the same as yours- falling over his eyes. 'You almost died, died on that battlefield and I-I wasn't the first one there. Granted, it was your mate that reached you first but I, I wasn't there quick enough.'

You meet his gaze, his purple eyes sad in a way you'd only ever seen under the mountain. 'You died.'

'And as I was dying one of my deepest regrets was not calling you sister enough,' he shifted closer, taking your head in his hands as if you were a little kid. 'You are my sister. Full flesh and blood. Full love of mine. You are my family. After everything you've done for me. You were right, I needed you under there, when there was nothing good to keep me grounded, but you. My little sister.'

You were sure you were tearing up in front of him.

'You'll always be my sister.'

You laugh. 'Maybe I should get stabbed more often.'

'No,' he said seriously. 'I don't think Azriel would like that very much.'

The mention of him changed the tone in conversation, changed the very beating of your heart.

'What's going on with you two?'

'Oh, I see,' you tease, 'talk to me above sister and brotherly relations just to get in my love life. Not a good look on you high lord.'

He laughed. 'No, it's not that. I just care about the two of you, a lot. And you both deserve to be happy. And I think you'd be happiest with each other.'

You look down, twirling the rings on your fingers.

'Would it be so bad to try to love him?'

You shake your head, smiling as a tear rolls down your cheek. 'I don't even have to try. Feels like i've loved him forever.' his shadows climbed up your arm, leaving Rhysand to smile at the affection.

'You'll work it out,' said Rhys, leaning over and kissing the crown of your head.

Your door was thrown open, startling the two of you.

Azriel stood there. For his entrance, he didn't at all seem that confident when he stood in front of the two of you. His hands didn't know how to hold themselves in front of him.

Your brows rose. 'Were you listening at the door?'

'Azriel,' scolded Rhysand with a stupid grin.

'Get dressed,' he said simply to you. 'There's something you need to see.'

Without much room for argument, you kicked them both out and dressed.

You'd grudgingly let Azriel hold your hand as he led you through the woods. You'd winnowed in at an illyrian camp before he took you through it and into the woods close by.

It was the same camp you'd first met Azriel in. The oldest where you'd all become friends. You'd asked what you were doing there, but he was quiet as he led you through, helping you over roots or breaking twigs from the trees so they didn't hit you.

'Azriel, to any other girl, you leading her silently through a woods without saying anything would be a bit suspicious,' you tell him. His shadows trailed behind the two of you and his hand was secure in yours. You knew not to be scared, but you were still cautious.

'I wouldn't show any girl this,' he said.

After another half hour of walking, the two of you stumbled across a small hut. It was a tiny thing really, made out of twigs and sticks, hay and mud. It looked like something a child was capable of making.

Azriel paused in front of it. He let go of you hand and reached for the door. He was as tall as it and his wings had to tuck in tightly behind him.

Hesitantly, you followed in.

It was just as small as it looked and dirty, like it hadn't been touched in years. Cobwebs hung low (his shadows quickly tried to bat them all away for you) there was dirt and hay all over the floor. Glasses were dust filled and left around with a hundred other things. Some looked new, others old.

And yet, strangely familiar.

'I made this place,' said Azriel.

You looked back at him. He was hunched over a large box that was overflowing with things. 'You?'

'The first time my brothers picked on me, I came to these woods, working on this for days. Every time things got too much back then, i'd come here. I've been coming back for years.' he glanced at you, a sheepish look on his face. 'I've never showed anyone this before.'

You look around the place in new perspectives. The shadows settled around the place. You pictured a little Az, running here and hiding from his brothers. Did he feel alone? Did he feel un-loved? You were so enamoured by it you didn't realise he'd settled on the ground, pulling out things from his box.

'This is your glove, the one's you were wearing when we first met. You took them off to beat up some kid who was being mean to me. You didn't go back for them, you didn't even care.'

He said, pulling out a pair of red wool gloves. In spite of the hut, they were in perfect condition. Pristine. You remembered first meeting him, remembered the little soldier who'd been horrible. Those gloves wouldn't go anywhere near your hand now.

Azriel went in again. 'This is the empty glass jar of the cream you used to help my burns. Here's a book you read to me when I couldn't flip the pages myself. The notes you'd leave when you had to go back to camp. The flowers you picked for me and gave me for my birthday. Dried and stamped from every time you gave them to me.'

You stood, in shock as he kept taking things out.

'A terrible drawing I did of you when I was young. A locket of yours that broke and you never wore again. Stamps from our first theatre trip. Empty bottles from our first night together in Rita's- and Cassian's too. A letter you wrote to me when I was on a mission. A black ribbon from your hair, you used to always wear it with these things. Honestly, the amount I have in here,' and he pulled out several, of varying shades. Black, white, grey, red, dark green. All yours.

Azriel wasn't done. 'A page of annotations you did in one of Rhysand's books. A copy of your favourite poems. A coaster from the first time just you and I went to dinner. Here's some stones from when I first taught you to skim them. A quill that I used to use to write you letters. An old ring of yours is here too. Here's the first dagger you got me. It's too precious to me to be used to kill.'

Tears were falling down your cheeks as you watched him pull them all out and explain them in depth. There was more but the sight of it all was becoming blurred through your tears. The bond felt heavy and beautiful in you.

Azriel finally put the box down and fell to his knees in front of you. His hands came around the back of your thighs, holding you there as his eyes looked up into yours. 'Don't you ever think I don't love you, when I have loved you since we were eleven years old.'

You stutter on you breath. 'H-how?'

He rests his head on your stomach, looking utterly at your will and completely in love. 'How could I not?'

Slowly, as you could not move too fast, you settled down on your knees across from him. His hands moved up to your arms as yours went to his cheeks, brushing back his hair.

'It was always going to be you, wasn't it?' you mumbled. 'How could it be anyone else?'

Azriel kissed you then, finally. His lips were as soft as they'd looked, as you'd always imagined. His hands drifted to your waist, finger tips digging into to hold you close. His hands were strong, but his lips were gentle. He pulled away, only to groan in need before reaching for your lips again, harder, desperate.

His teeth bit down on your bottom lip, tongue sliding in to feel every corner of your mouth as his hands wondered around you, trying to grip onto any bit of you he could. Your arms wrapped around his neck, bringing him closer. Close enough to consume, to breath in.

You pulled back enough to catch your breath, arms still around his shoulders. 'Mother above, am I gonna make you the best meal of your life.'

But that could wait. For now, you'd settle for a dusty floor in the little house in the woods.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Taglist: @tothestarsandwhateverend @darlingbravebelle @lil-lupa @haileycannotcometothephantom @fairywriter-oracle @isa1b2h3 @tele86 @thebeautifulmysteriesoflife @unleashthelion @naturakaashi @aurora1115 @sirens-and-moonflowers @azriels-shadowsinger @willowpains @crazylokonugget @abysshaven @anuttellaa @wishfulwithwine @one-big-fangirl @harrystylesfan2686 @charlotteintumbleland @mellowarcadefun @starseedsamurai

[threebea]

I have started to think of the Jedi being blamed for the Fall of the Republic like blaming firefighters for wildfires.

They have been fighting fires (corruption) for years, but the fire is getting bigger and hotter and spreading farther. They're doing their best but there aren't enough of them to go everywhere there are fires. The Senate points them to where really big fires are, but sometimes it turns out they just want their property saved and there weren't that many people in the building. The Jedi still save lives but they have to look at the bigger picture and hope volunteers will put out the little fires because they simply don't have the people for every little fire even though they wish they did. The Senate starts restricting their use of water. Then an arsonist, Palpatine, is made mayor and takes control of their budget.

Dooku and the CIS start lighting fires on purpose. Palpatine let's Dooku know where the most flammable places are.

And the firefighters (Jedi) keep fighting the fire. They can't not fight the fire. People will die if they don't fight the fire. Then the government is like: there are not enough firefighters to fight the fire, but here is a large population of people we will force to fight the fire with you. You shouldn't have qualms, apparently an individual that used to work for you is the one that paid for their training so really they're your responsibility. You'll be in charge of them on the field and get to watch them die, but we control their lives and have decided they're not people so we don't have to pay them. Good deal. We are good at fighting fires.

And the Jedi can't say no because they need to stop the fire and they can't do it alone at this point. Many of the Jedi are killed in their attempts to stop the gasoline fire Dooku lights and it shows how badly they need these new people.

Luckily, the people drafted to fight with them, the clones are also good at fighting fires! It's dangerous many clones will die, but despite having no choice they stand beside the Jedi bravely. The Jedi do everything in their power to protect them. They fight alongside them and try to minimize loss.

There are a few Jedi that get overwhelmed by anger or trauma. They become arsonists themselves, but the number of those that do can be counted on one hand compared to the thousands of Jedi that continue to fight fires.

Sadly, the clones have explosives inside them that Palpatine, the mayor, has the trigger for. Just when it feels like the fire is under control and the people lighting the fires have been stopped, Palpatine sets them off.

Most of the clones are never the same. They think the Jedi had to have set off the bombs inside them, even though they would have never thought them capable of it before. Most never learn the truth. They hate the Jedi for being traitors.

Most of the firefighters die. And their families too. Their children and uncles and aunts and grandparents, and cousins even if they weren't capable of fighting fires they all get burned to death.

The mayor declares it was the firefighters lighting fires and outlaws being a firefighter.

Some of the Jedi survive. Some of them can't bring themselves to fight fires anymore. Some of them keep doing it because it's what they were trained to do. A lot of them are novices who didn't know all the best techniques, but they find their own methods to put out fires and teach others how to do it as well.

And the rebellion begins because when you see fire the logical thing to do is put it out, but all the firefighters are dead or in hiding and being a firefighter is illegal. There's no one to call so the town's people start doing it themselves, inspired by the Jedi.

This becomes extremely important when the mayor makes a device that can light entire cities on fire at the push of a button.

Anyway that's my metaphor and maybe explains my point of view when it comes to the Jedi.

[the-medieval-husbands]

It just keeps happening.....

Merlin doesn't know if he wants to stop it, or if he should? And the worst part is Arthur doesn't even notice he's kissed him.

First time:

After dinner, Merlin cleared the plates, then returned to ready the royal clotpole for bed. After making sure he was dressed in his sleep shirt, Arthur simply leaned down and gave him the lightest kiss, turned and started getting into bed, saying goodnight. He could see the moment it clicked in Arthurs head, yet he just kept going. Merlin excused himself and the next morning nobody mentioned it.

Second time:

Before his tournament match against sir chamberlain, Merlin was putting on his armor.

"Please Arthur. You need to listen. Be quick. Don't underestimate him. I watched him train." Merlin pleaded.

Arthur leaned in and cut off any further words with a kiss. "I'll be fine love. Now hand me my sword."

In a daze Merlin retrieves the sword and hands it off, turning back to Around seeing on his face that he again knows what he's done. They need to talk about this but not now. Not before he goes out there. So Arthur nods once, and walks out of the tent.

3rd time :

Duke Bohun would not leave him alone. Everywhere Merlin looked, there he was. Honestly it wouldn't be so bad if he wasn't so handsy. The amount of times that Merlin has had to subtly remove himself from groping range is getting out of hand. He's just glad Arthur hadn't seen...... Or well, was glad.

The Duke was seated next to Arthur at the farewell banquet, which meant that while Merlin was ensuring that Arthurs cup was always full, Lord Bohun would have plenty of grab time.

Maybe if he approached from the other side?

As the night wore on, and the wine seated in their stomachs and minds, it also loosened their lips.

"That is a lovely man servant you have there. I don't suppose you'd lend him to me for a night? I promise I'd return him just as I received him." Duke Bohun slurred while leering in his direction.

"Lord Bohun, I don't know how things are done elsewhere. But here in Camelot our servants are people, not objects. We do not give them away, nor lend them for a night." Arthur could feel himself getting more and more angry with every word.

Before the situation could escalate further Merlin out a gentle hand on Arthur shoulder.

Taking that as a sign, Arthur took a deep breath. " If you'll excuse me, I think it's best that I retire for the night." he turns to his man servant "Merlin"

"Coming sire"

No sooner are they in the hall does Arthur have Merlin against a wall and locked in one of the most passionate moments he's ever experienced. Arthur is holding Merlin like he might lose him.

Slowly they part. Merlin strokes the back of Arthurs head gently. As soon as their breathing returns to normal, Arthurs entire body tenses in realization.

Merlin, instead of getting mad gently lifts his head to look at him. They stare intently. He can see how scared Arthur is.

Merlin leans forward, and for the first time, he kisses him.

"It's okay." he gently tugs on the hair on the back of his head. Not hard. Just enough to show that he's in the moment with him.

Arthur smiles.

[somnoir]

Bats and Phantoms - Part 3

Part 3 | Masterpost

Cassandra and Jasmine

Jazz has always been concerned for her siblings. Why wouldn't she? Dan was a former world ender, Danny was ghost king (or was it crown prince?), and Ellie was almost always everywhere. In all honesty, if was overwhelming.

But she'd be damned to not love them no matter what.

Visiting Gotham to see if Danny was okay was... Well, she just had to. Somehow, her brother's have caught the eye of vigilantes and that was obviously bad.

Her phone buzzed and once again she's plagued by Dan's messages.

Younger-Older-Bigger: Should I stalk Nightwing???

Older-definitely: No. Please don't.

Older-definitely: We already have to worry about Danny getting stalked by a crime lord

Younger-Older-Bigger: Yeah but I'm not a crime lord

Older-definitely: NO

Older-definitely: STOP

Older-definitely: DAN

Younger-Older-Bigger: ᕙ⁠(⁠ ⁠ ⁠•⁠ ⁠‿⁠ ⁠•⁠ ⁠ ⁠)⁠ᕗ

Why? Why did they have to be like this? Weapon training was somehow the automatic bonding activity for the Fenton/Masters siblings. Dan and Danny liked to fight with sword a little too much and Ellie was all to happy to throw daggers at people. Jazz preferred her lazers and blasters (though her aim was wonky at first, it got better... She promised.)

So here she was, in Gotham... Making sure her brother wasn't being seduced by a crime lord. But of course, she was a Fenton born and bred and raised. Gotham apparently had literal alarms that alerted the entire city of a massive attack. Her phone even got an alert from... WE warning. Wayne Enterprises?

Okay... Apparently Scarecrow was running amok and plaguing the streets with his fear toxin. Oh, Danny was going to go feral.

(A couple blocks away, Danny Fenton was high on the fear and giggling to himself. Yes.)

And also Gothamites carried gasmasks around. What a wonderful day to leave hers behind.

She's already cough, closing her eyes as she desperately tried to stay sane. Her liminal and almost half a state should have made the effects different from her but apparently she wasn't ghost enough to feel euphoric.

Stumbling into the closest building she could find, she's desperately gasping when a gasmask was pressed against her face. Jazz can barely register the dark haired girl with asian features who was hurriedly hauling her to her feet and away from the door.

It takes a minute before she's registering the girl, blinking when she saw her making gestures. Again, it takes her another minute to realize it's sign language.

Thank God she had paranoid siblings who took those classes in case they couldn't speak. But with her brain filled with feat toxin, she's clumsy in signing back but there's some mild surprise in the girl's eyes. But Jazz is conscious enough to notice the tense way the girl stood, how her stance was prepared for a fight. Maybe that was normal Gothamites behavior...

At least, she was communicating with someone. Someone who's really pretty too. God, was the fear toxin making her dopy? That can't be, right?

Cass had seen a pretty redheaded girl fall to her knees, and yet she had more resistance to fear toxin than local Gothamites. It was almost interesting really, but she's not going to dwell on it when this girl was choking for air.

Words don't easily process for her but her body moves without much thought, signing to her if she was okay. The girl, clearly disoriented, looks confused before realization bleeds into her strangely bright eyes—then she's clumsily signing back.

She says her name is Jasmine, like the flower, the princess—call her Jazz, she insists.

And she replies that she's Cassandra—like the character from Rapunzel, like the girl from Greek muths—just call her Cass tho.

When Jazz is in her arms, Cass can feel some muscles through her clothes. This girl wasn't as frail as she look. No. This was a trained fighter, someone who knew how to defend themselves without a problem. Cass should be wary, but at the same time she was worried.

She knows she should be going out there and helping but Oracle had immediately told her to help the civilians in the area. Batman, Robin, Red Robin, and Spoiler were handling the situation but the civilians had to be protected at all costs. She might not be able to help as orphan in that moment but she could as Cass Wayne.

The commotion gets worse once Scarecrow's henchmen start raiding the place with every weapon they could get their hands on. She fights to the best of her abilities, watching, predicting, but what she didn't predict was a loud blast tearing through the place and shattering the window.

Cass can see a blast of green spark through the air before directly hitting the Jonathan Crane. The man is blasted into a wall, groaning before he's knocked out.

Her eyes dart to where the blast came from.

Jazz, the strange girl she has just met, was holding a strange gun.

(In the distance, Danny was still very much high and was not aware that one of his maniacal invention had actually worked in his sister's favor.)

Part 4 | Masterpost

[pearlymel]

The last time when...

Synopsis : you're an assassin. Your next mission? Get rid of your husband.

Warnings : Sylus × gn! reader, angst angst, death, miscommunication, blood, 1.6k wc.

Notes : if this broke your heart a lil bit, then i will make an apology letter by making a part 2 where they're all a happy family and alive 😓

When was the last time you looked at your husband and thought; how crazy must you have been to be with this as equally crazy man?

Or when was the last time he looked at you and thought; how lucky he was that you were able to tolerate him, to marry him, even.

He knew. And you thought you were able to hide your true occupation just well.

He seemed calm right in front of you while your hands were shaking.

He.. was the target?

Let's take this back to yesterday.

You were pushing your motorbike to its limits as you tore down the dark, winding roads, the sound of gunfire ringing out behind you. Bullets whizzed past you, narrowly missing their mark as you expertly maneuvered the motorcycle to avoid getting hit.

Your heart pounded in your chest as adrenaline rushed through your veins. You could hear the shouts and curses of your pursuers, their voices full of anger and frustration.

Despite the danger and the high-speed chase, you manage to keep your composure and reach for the gun holstered at your waist. With a quick and practiced motion, you whip it out and aim it behind you, training it on your pursuers.

Bullets continue to fly in your direction, but you return fire, hoping to buy yourself some time and discourage them from closing in on you.

You safely escaped, for now.

You were either going to get killed by them or by Sylus if he finds out you put yourself recklessly into danger.

Let alone burrowing his motorbike for this mission.

Stupid organisation, you mutter to yourself as you kick your boots off, the snowy weather certainly wasn't helping with your thoughts either.

You had hoped to leave your old life behind, especially after marrying Sylus. But that was a year ago, and the phone call from your old organization has shattered that illusion of peace. These assholes.

They had one more job for you, a job they think no one can ever successed in, unless it was you.

They didn't even tell you who your target is. Just simply send in you the location instead.

As you push open the door to your shared bedroom, your heart sinks when you see that Sylus is still awake. His eyes are fixed on you, and judging by the expression on his face, he is far from pleased.

His arms are crossed in front of his chest, a stern frown creasing his forehead as he regards you silently, waiting for an explanation.

“i was visiting a friend,” you explain, your grip of steel around the doorknob.

Sylus doesn't seem convinced by your flimsy story. He continues to stare at you, "Visiting a friend," he repeats, sarcastically.

“Mephisto says otherwise.”

That damned crow.

“I'd like it if you stopped stalking me.” You say bitterly. And it's true, his eyes seem to be everywhere, anywhere.

That's why you made sure to quit being an assassin before getting together with him. You wanted a happy, peaceful life as well.

“You're saying it like I'm some sort of creep or stranger.” he drawled, stepping closer to look down at you, and his crimson eyes seem to shine brighter in the dark as he lifts your chin up.

“I'm your husband, i have the right to know why my partner is late.” he squinted his eyes at you before letting go off your chin to turn away.

“Get some rest.” Sylus retreated back to bed. You both didn't speak a word that night, both of your backs facing the other, and you think the weather might have become colder.

—

They have threatened to hurt the people you love most if you don't do this one last mission.

You still feel upset that you didn't clear things up with Sylus last night, you hate fighting with him, but if it has to come down to this, then you'd rather protect him.

You made sure no one would follow you this time, not even Mephisto.

Let's say you did some adjustments on him.

Sorry lil guy.

It's probably not clever to leave your trail of footsteps behind on this particularly heavy snowy day, but they said your target would be here. Right at this time. And this place.

What an odd feeling.

Your body goes taut as you suddenly hear the sound of snow being crushed underfoot. It's a familiar sound that immediately puts you on alert. In a flash, you turn around, your gun gripped tightly and ready to fire.

Sylus.

Your heart leaps into your throat as you recognize the figure emerging from the falling snow.

Shock flood through you, your body instinctively relaxing a fraction as you lower your gun, "Sylus," you exhale breathlessly, the tension in your muscles melting away momentarily.

He observed you with a gaze that felt like it cut deep into your very core. There was no anger in his eyes, no hatred, no rage. Just a quiet resignation. “It's strange,” he says, his voice low, “fate bringing us here like this.”

He wasn't armed. He most likely knew.

Wait, he's.. the target?

He noticed your reaction, but there was no flicker of fear in his eyes. Despite your step back, he continued his approach, slowly and deliberately. His eyes never left you, yet there was not a threat in them, just...resignation...understanding?

Sylus was close, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from his body, so warm in the cold, he reached out and gently brushed the hair that had plastered itself to your face, to reveal your expression of fear.

“step… back.”

“and why should i do that?”

“I'll shoot,” the words slip from your tongue quicker than you could stop yourself from saying it.

He simply lifted one eyebrow at the sight of the gun now pointed at his chest, unperturbed. “Is that how you greet your husband dearest?” he asks, the faintest hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth with his head tilted slightly to the side.

He was so infuriatingly calm, like there was nothing to worry about.

His smile only widened, and he lifted his hand to rest it on the gun, his fingers gently tracing the barrel, bringing it closer to him, and you gasp, “but don’t you know how much I love getting under your skin, sweetie?”

“Don't—!” you drawed your hand back when his fingertips played dangerously near the trigger, sending your heart to almost stop. You step back again.

He knew you wouldn’t shoot.

“What the hell are you doing?” he said, his voice dropping the smooth façade once you aim the gun at yourself.

“Put that down, now.” he stepped closer to you, your warnings going through deaf ears before he became impatient, resolving this by using his evol, the energy manipulation red and black strands wrapping around your hand and taking the weapon away from your hold to throw it to the side.

Well, you were certainly no match for him.

“I can explain.” You sounded defeated, a fool. You knew you were going to face the consequences if you don't do something now. “I'm really sorry.”

“do that when we get home—”

Sylusd didn't get to finish what he was about to say, and he didn't freeze either when he heard the familiar sounds of gunshots going off.

Gunshots. Aimed directly at you.

He had no time to look around at the source of danger, everything felt like it wad going in slow motion when be was reaching his arm, his body out to protect you and shield you.

Only to find you on your knees in a blink of an eye, your body limp and falling into the pile of snow.

Sylus shouted your name in fear as he knelt beside you, gathering you gently in his arms, his voice a strangled gasp. He held you close, his eyes wild while his hands palpated your body, searching for the wound.

Two gunshots. Shot right through your chest and stomach.

No, no, no.

Sylus has never felt more scared than he was right now, with your crimson blood seeping quickly, melting down with the snow, even when he was taking off his coat and shirt, all to apply pressure on your wound.

He clutched you, his hands trembling, “stay with me," he pleaded, his voice hoarse. "Please, please stay with me.” His mind raced, frantically thinking of what to do, of why the blood wouldn't stop running down, your eyes so tired and almost dull, oh how he felt so helpless right now.

He clenched his jaw, the unfamiliar tears starting to gather around his eyes.

“You’re not quitting on me,” he muttered, the anger in him rising. “You don’t get to quit on me, damn it. You’re not dying on me. Not today, not anytime soon.”

“So—sorry..”

Your last breath. Sylus’ world came shattering down as your eyes lost their light and your body went still in his arms. There was no breath left, no pulse, just deafening silence and the harsh wind.

Your last words were an apology. Not an ‘i love you’ nor ‘take care’.

He refused to believe it. He refused to accept that you were gone, that your lips would never say his name again, that your hands would never touch his skin again.

”Don’t leave me.”

…

“please?”

…

“Are you really.. going to leave me to be alone again? ”

Sylus only remembers seeing red and white that day. The prettiest angel resting in his arms with their precious blood mixed with the cold embrace of the snow.

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

1.2k / 18 / soap soulmate au, part 1

...

You're Soap's enemy. One of Graves' Shadows. You just betrayed him, and now he's seeing his name tattooed across your skin. The Las Almas night nearly eclipses the soulmark's inky color. But it's there, clear as day. He can't wrap his adrenaline-addled mind around it.

He ghosts up behind where you're posted--pacing, patrolling, on the lookout for him--and wraps his hand around your mouth. You react in surprise, grabbing his wrist. But before you can twist out of his grasp, he slides the blade of your fallen Shadow's knife against your back.

If you're his soulmate, it changes nothing. He'll still be one man against dozens, chances slim to none that he'll make it out of this alive. But he has to know.

"You," he growls. "What's your name?"

You still. You're trained to keep a cool head under far more extreme circumstances than this.

"Your name," Soap repeats, voice like gravel.

He loosens his grip just enough to let you speak.

You release a slow breath out. "Classified."

He increases the pressure of his knife against your back. "That bastard Graves trusts you, aye? Not many others posted this way. Nobody'll find you for awhile." He presses the tip of the knife back into the fabric of your uniform. He'll keep the pressure there until he gets what he wants. "Your full name."

You say nothing for a long moment. But then, you see no reason to die overlooking these twisting Las Almas alleyways. You tell him your full name.

It confirms what he already knows. It's the name printed on his own skin, the name he's repeated to himself thousands of times over. The knife disappears from your back.

"Look at me," he tells you.

You push his arm away and turn on him, drawing your sidearm and training it at his chest. You step back, looking him up and down. "You're the one we're looking for. Aren't you? Capture or kill--" Your voice falters when you see he pulls his shirtsleeve up, revealing his own soulmate. He doesn't give you one goddamn second to try to deny it or turn your eyes away the way you've been trained. Your name. Tattooed on your target's arm.

Seeing you eye to eye, Soap's breath catches in his throat. His own name on the side of your neck is clear as day to him now.

"You're her," he says, still not quite believing it.

You take another step back. What are you supposed to do? You should shoot him, yes, but could you even make your finger pull the fucking trigger now? You lower your gun, but you don't put it away.

"You should go," you tell him, voice low. "Now."

But he doesn't move. He wants to take this moment in, study your face, memorize every detail. You're the real thing. His blue eyes stay locked onto yours, and a myriad of scenarios play through his mind, just like yours. What happens if he leaves? Will he be able to find you again?

He takes a step toward you.

"Don't do that," you warn him, sliding back a step to keep the same distance between you. "Don't make me hurt you."

"You wouldn't." He moves for you now with the confidence of a man who believes that, too. He wants to touch you again. Just to make sure you're really here. His voice is rough and thick. "I need to look at you."

You bite down on a gasp when your heel knocks against the wall. He's getting too close. You can't let your control on the situation slip. You can't forget why you're here or what will happen if Graves finds out about this.

"Back off," you warn him again. You still have your sidearm in hand, but you're terrified he's right--pointing it at him is an empty threat.

"Can't."

He moves in close to you, his breath hot on your neck. You swear you can feel his body heat through the layers of both your uniforms. Your nerves are on fire. His scent is everywhere. This can't be happening. Not now. It should be a dream, meeting your soulmate, but it's a nightmare.

"Listen to me," you force out. "They'll find you and kill you. Leave. Now."

"Can't." Soap is close enough to whisper it into your ear. His hands close around your arms. "Can't think straight with you in front of me." His gaze darkens as he pushes forward, pressing you into the wall and pinning you there. If he's not going to live to see morning, he's going to kiss you. He has to taste you.

You hear another Shadow under you, boots thudding against the metal stairs, scaling up to your lookout perch.

You try to fight the panic welling up in your throat. You could both be shot for this. Killed for it. Worse.

You can't let them see him. If you give him what he wants, he'll go, right?

You grab his collar and pull him forward, meeting his lips in a searing kiss. His lips feel like stubble and taste like blood. He shudders, feeling your body suddenly pressed against his. He deepens the kiss. He's starving, but it's not enough. Just the taste and feel of you isn't enough. His fingers weave into your hair and he pulls you close, pressing even harder against your body.

You forget yourself for a moment. Your brain chemistry shifts hard, heat and want burning in your veins.

Then you hear voices from below and reality washes over you again. With a strangled groan, you push him away. "God damn you. Hide."

Soap has to force himself to let you go. It takes every ounce of control to keep from reaching for you again. But the look in your eyes when you push him away... he knows you've crossed a line.

He disappears the moment two more Shadows crest the top of the iron staircase.

You avoid rousing suspicion as you lie to your allies' faces, reporting no sightings of either target. By the time you're forced to leave your post and follow the others back to the nearest rendezvous point, you're resigned to never seeing him again. It's better not to wonder.

All you can think about are his fingers weaving into your hair, his lips on yours, the burning grip of his hands around your wrists. You tell yourself not to think about it... but then your mind goes back to it, over and over. No matter how much you tell yourself it's better not to fantasize.

Even when you learn he evaded capture, he's a wanted man. A dead man walking. You're better off pretending you never saw your name tattooed on his skin.

...

There is no other thought on Soap's mind but you long after he slips away into the Las Almas night.  The sight of you leaving with the other Shadows haunts him when he closes his eyes. He wakes up adrenalized, thinking about you in his hands, his heart pounding like it could punch through his rib cage.

His soulmate got away, and the weight of regret is setting in.

...

[part 1] / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10 / part 11 / part 12

more Soap / masterlist tag

[homestylehughes]

wet dream

pairing(s): Luke hughes x fem!reader

summary: Luke wakes yn up during her wet dream, leaving her all embarrassed, but happens when Luke makes her dreams a reality?

warning(s): 18+ mdni. extreme dirty talk, oral fem!receiving, nipple play, slight edging. use of pet names, foul language.

word count: 2.1k

authors note: hi guys...long time no see. do you guys hate me?? be honest..LOL. kicking off my return to tumblr, with no other than some smut. now.. this has to be the dirtiest smut I've written yet, so i'm a little scared for this one. I'm also a little nervous that I'm rusty because I haven't written in a while. so hopefully it's good LOL. this song is based off of wet dream by wet Leg, I would highly recommend listening to it when reading. I've never written anything like this before so this was new for me but I love it, and you guys do too. okay this is getting long.. because you know I LOVE to yap. anyways. I hope you all are doing well, I promise I'm back and that I'll be putting more things out very very soon. much love always <3

I wasn't sure how I ended up on Luke's lap on the side of a back road in the middle of nowhere. But i don't think i have a bone in my body that cares, because the way lukes mouth feels on my neck is enough to make me lose all of my senses. 

“Luke shit” I moan out as my hips rut against his, as his lips trail up my neck. 

“luke..we should probably start to head home” i say, not wanting this to get out of hand in the car

“Why baby, I thought you were enjoying this?” He asks, his eyes locking with mine as he begins to pull at my shirt, exposing my chest. 

“Because we’re in the middle of nowhere, what if someone catches us?” 

“Baby, we’re in the middle of nowhere, no one is going to catch us.” he replies, as his hands work their way under my shirt, pulling it slowly up my body, and before I know it he's tossing my shirt behind him in the car. 

“Luke..” i say hesitantly

“What, I'm not doing anything..” he says with a small smirk, moving his hands to hold my waist as he looks up at me.

“Your making this hard for me” i say, trying to resist his touch, knowing im doing a terrible job so far 

“Then let me make it easy for you” he replies before pressing your lips together 

I can't help but kiss him back, my hands instantly moving to his brown curly locks, pulling myself closer to him. Feeling his hands slide up my back to my bra, his fingers sliding under unfastening it, pulling it away from my body. Luke's hands finding my breasts instantly, his fingers running along my already hardening nipples. He leans his head back against the headrest, licking his lips as he trains his eyes to my breasts. 

my body moves on its own accord as i push my chest into his hands, needing and wanting anything he's willing to give me. 

“Luke” i softly whine out

“Shh..baby. Im taking this all in.” he says cutting off your plead for more 

“It's nothing you haven't seen before” i retract 

“But everytime i see them, it's like the very first time over again.” he says before pressing soft kisses to the top of my breasts. 

“Baby you should see yourself right now..fuck.” he almost moans out before finally connecting his hot mouth to your nipple. 

“Oh god” I moaned, my body melting against his, my hips moving against his again. The feeling of his mouth on my nipple, his other hand needing and pulling at my other breast, as we both move together as one. I feel him everywhere, I need him everywhere. I'm almost sure that I can cum from just this, feeling my wetness pool through my jeans. 

“Luke..” i say breathlessly 

“What baby?” he asks, his mouth pulling away from my breast, a string of his saliva following his path. His pupils are blown with lust, his cheeks slightly pink, his lips swollen, and plump, as he looks up at me. Fuck, hes a sight for sore eyes. 

“I need you to fuck me..Please” i tell him, no long caring if we’re in the middle of no where, or let alone that you’re in a car. The only thing I can think about is how much I need him. Wanting to show him how much I need him I urgently press our lips to his, putting all of my want into the kiss, hoping he gets the hint. Luke picks it up instantly, his hands pulling at my hips rocking them harder against his.

I slide my hands under his shirt, raking my nails over his toned stomach, luke moaning at the sensation of my hands against him. pushing his shirt higher higher, luke pulls away for a second pulling the shirt from his body tossing it behind him before reconnecting his lips to mine. 

The kiss is hot, and nasty, teeth clashing, as our tongues fight for dominance, my hands tangling in Luke's hair, pulling him more into me, if that even possible at this point. I can feel his hands on the waistband of my jeans, his fingers working to undo the button, pushing their way into my jeans as he begins to push them down my hips. 

“Fuck look at you baby..looking all fucked out on my lap. This turns you on huh? Knowing we could get caught at any moment. Such a slut aren't you?” he says to me, his fingers dancing along the top of my underwear. I can only whine in response, my brain is too clouded with want and lust. I just push his hand close to my core. Just as he's pushing his hands past my underwear. But suddenly, it's like it all just stops. 

“yn..yn..yn?” I hear someone say from beside me, my body shooting directly up, as I push my hair out of my face. My chest rises quickly as I try to blink the sleep out of my eyes. 

“Baby are you okay?” I hear Luke ask from beside me, turning to him to see confusion and worry written all over his face, as I stare at him like a deer in headlights. 

“Yeah I'm okay, I'm sorry” I say, licking my lips, to try and gather myself. 

“Are you sure? You were moving around and making noises, almost sounding like you were in pain.” 

I was making noises? Oh my god, I can feel my face becoming hot as I bury my head in my hands, I can't help but laugh in embarrassment. 

“What??? Am I missing something here?” luke asks me frantically

“Luke..” i start pulling my head from my hands 

“Yn..” he follows 

“Promise to not judge me?” i ask 

“Yes, always” 

“I had a wet dream??” i say softly 

“A wet dream?” luke asks

“Yes, luke a wet dream, I'm really embarrassed and I would like to go to bed.” I say looking at the blanket in front of me, too ashamed to look at him. 

“That's nothing to be embarrassed of baby, people have wet dreams all the time, its normal.” he says, trying to make me feel better

“I know luke..but still im embarrassed.” 

“Was it a good dream?” he asks 

“It was a really good dream..” I sigh, wishing it was real. Wishing Luke didn't wake me before it got to the good part. 

“What was it about?” he asks 

“Luke..” 

“I think i have the right to know” he says, i can hear the small smirk in his voice without even looking at him.

“I can't tell you..” i hesitate once again

“Yes. you can. And you will” he says before pulling the blanket that covers my body back, before i know it, his hands are wrapping around my thighs, pulling me into his lap. Just like my dream. 

“Now you can't run, so get to talking. It must've been a good wet dream to wake me up at 3:45 in the morning” 

A wave of guilt runs through my body, feeling bad that I woke him up all because of a dream, but it's not like I knew I was thrashing and moaning in my sleep. 

“Okay” i sigh to him 

“We were in the middle of nowhere in your car and somehow you seduced me and I ended up in your lap and my clothes were off and it was getting to the good part and then you woke me up.” i say quickly, my eyes locked on his chest

“Oh..” luke says 

Oh??? That's all he has to say, you’ve got to be kidding me. 

“See i knew i shouldn't have told you” i say slightly upset but his lack of response

“Woah calm down. I'm processing this. My girlfriend just told me that she had a wet dream about us fucking in a car.” 

“we didnt fuck. You ruined that part of the dream, when you woke me up” i look up, pouting in his face 

“Well i'm sorry i was concerned you were getting eaten by a bear or something” he says with a smile, his response causing me to giggle. 

“Fine whatever” i say with a small smile on my lips 

“Where did we leave off in this dream baby?” he asks, moving his hands to my hips, his mood change taking me by surprise. 

“You-you had your hands in my underwear” I tell him. 

Following my instructions, Luke moves his hands to my underwear, toying with the band on the side before sinking his fingers completely inside, causing me to react instantly, moaning as his fingers slide their way into my wet core. 

“Fuck me..already so wet for me” he groans out 

“Luke..shit” I moan, dropping my head to his neck, as his fingers move against my clit, suddenly the room feels on fire, and once again I feel him everywhere, I need him everywhere. 

“Please don't stop.” I say to him, moaning in his ear as he slips a finger inside my pussy. 

“Always take my fingers so good” he grunts, his lips moving against my neck, sucking and kissing any exposed bit of skin he can. 

My hips move against his fingers, trying to chase any bit of a high that I can get. 

“Gonna put another finger in baby, can you handle that?” 

“Fuck yes please, i need it..” I whine to him, my jaw goes slack as he pushes not one but two more fingers into my dripping pussy, the only sounds that are reaching my ears are the sounds of luke's fingers moving in out of me, my wetness pooling down my thighs. And the sound of luke and I’s  soft moans and pants. 

“Kiss me please” I beg, moving my face to his, our lips meeting in the middle. Our lips begin moving together at a fierce speed, unable to get enough of each other. 

“Right there luke, fuck” i moan pulling back from his lips, as his fingers curl perfectly inside of me, hitting all of the spots that i need him too. 

“Feel good baby?” he asks, looking down at me with hooded eyes

“Yes, oh my god yes” i moan, my eyes locked on his 

“Move your hand down there and play with your clit, while i fuck with you with my fingers” luke says to me, almost demanding. Quickly moving my much smaller fingers, to my pussy, circling them on my clit. moans and whines begin to fall almost instantly from my lips as complete pleasure takes over my body. 

“Yeah thats it baby, take what you need from me” luke moans from below me, watching me fuck myself harder against his fingers

“Im gonna cum luke, don't stop please” i beg. 

“Keep your eyes on me while you cum, I'll stop. Got it?” he tells me

“Yes.” i frantically nod back in response 

One more thrust of Luke's fingers, one more circle of my fingers against my clit, and I'm coming undone before I know it. My fingers dropping from my clit, moving both of my hands to luke shoulders to keep myself up right as he continues to fuck me through my orgasm. My eyes fight to stay open as my body thrashes and shakes against his. 

“Fuck” i say with the little voice that i have left, my eyes still locked on luke’s. 

Feeling empty as he pulls his fingers from my pussy, moving his hand in front of his face, seeing his fingers glisten in my cum, in the dim room. He keeps his eyes locked with mine as he puts his fingers in his mouth, sucking them clean. I can't help but watch his every movement, my body already wanting more, of whatever he wants to give me. 

“Was that better than your dream?” he finally speaks

I quickly press our lips together as a response to his question. I can't help but moan as I taste myself on his tongue, pulling him into me by his hair, our chests pressed together. 

“We haven't gotten to the last part of my dream” i say against his lips 

“And what's that?” luke asks before placing another soft kiss to my lips 

“You havent fucked me yet.” 

“Well what am I waiting for?” he quickly says, before flipping us over, dropping me lightly on the bed. Where he starts to prove once again that he's much better than a wet dream. 

[ramen8008]

Tony having a list of habits of the avengers that annoy him yet also altering the entirety of the compound to meet those habits.

Tony: You realize how annoying it is to have you in my vents?? Just let me breathe my 5 million dollar air in peace

Also Tony installing a proper scanner which doesn't ring any alarms if Barton is in the vents but instead just makes in a video compilation of each time he falls.

Tony: Thor I swear to the Gods. If you take one more Pop tart from me I wil-

Also Tony bulge buying Pop tarts for every time Thor visits.

Tony: Cap how do you not kn- No being frozen for 80 years is no excuse. This is vital part of history, No I don't care that it's "just a show" this changed lives

Also Tony installing a "Cap is confused again" Protocol on FRIDAY for each time there's anything Steve doesn't understand which might be basic knowledge to everyone else so FRIDAY can give him a summary of it all.

Tony: Nat you need to stop hiding weapons everywhere. I can't be going around finding machetes in the compound!

Also Tony providing her as much space she needs for her weapons in each room if that's what she needs to feel safe.

Tony: No! No magic. Wanda you go through my head again and I swear you'll regret it. My therapist quit, you think you can handle it? Nuh uh this is a magic free household young lady.

Also Tony installing a whole new simulation based training room so she can practice her magic properly.

Tony: Bucky, I know I'm rich but can you please stop crushing my equipment and cups

Also Tony very gently talking to Bucky about everything he is doing step by step as he checks up Bucky's arm. Giving him his own room with open windows so he doesn't feel trapped with every bit of little hobby he might pick up from knitting to painting to playing the piano. A bookshelf with the entire limited edition of The Hobbit and every 40s music he might like. And some more recent songs in case he decides to "stop being old".

Tony: Strange I need you to stop doing that shit. I understand you're a wizard but don't they have rules for that? Like no magic outside of Hogwarts until you're 17? None of that weird stuff in the tower... ever.

Also Tony creating a special meditating room for Stephen with Pink Floyd playing where he can just calm down for a while in the tower and somehow a room in the mirror dimension when he really wants peace and quiet.

Tony: Vision I know you're an AI who is very interested in human nature and I am flattered but I swear if I hear one more explosion because you tried to learn knitting or the piano I will find an off switch whether or not you have one.

Also Tony making every single hobby Vision wants to pick up possible in the best way. Providing him his own kitchen to getting him a piano teacher because he wanted to experience "learning by being taught"

Tony: Banner I get that you have everything under control which is great but my lab is not big enough for The Hulk

Also Tony making his lab big enough. Getting him his own lab. Making sure he had everything he needed to calm down when he couldn't control the Hulk. Labeling him as the "strongest avenger". Getting him a therapist. Making sure he never feels alone yet always has peace

Tony: Rhodey you need to understand that when I say I'm fine I'm fine. You act like such a party pooper you know that?

Also Tony who trusts Rhodey with his life and everything. Making sure Rhodey never feels lesser than. Who couldn't be more grateful that Rhodey stuck by him throughout everything and always stayed. Tony always turning to him for advice and no matter how much he acts like Rhodey is being a bummer always takes his words to heart.

Tony: Peter.... Don't walk on the ceiling! Oh my God don't die! What the hell kid please don't explode your homework again! Your aunt is going to KILL me! You mess with the suit again and I- No , you can't borrow my suit what do you mean? I told you to stay back, tell me what you interpreted that as? No the adults are talking.

Also Tony doing everything that kid wants no matter what. Making sure his suit is so safe that he might as well be immortal. Buying him everything he even remotely suggests to liking. He has his own room in the tower cause of all the time he spends in the labs.

"You want to test out this new thing with your webs but it requires this extremely expensive and toxic chemical? As long as you wear proper protection!"

"you said you had to write about a famous place you went to but since you haven't travelled much you were gonna write about the Stark exhibition or times square.....So I got you these world tour tickets. I think they hit every landmark , just message me the ones they don't and I'll handle it. And don't worry there are two so your aunt can go with you"