#worst mission of the bunch

[imbiowaresbitch]

Preach.

God I fucking hate the Winter Palace part of DAI. Hate it hate it hate it bite bite bite snarl 🤬

Why is the political intrigue necessary? I hate the whole idea of the Inquisition, so much politics, so little world saving.

In Origins, you had to go gather your allies to fight a world ending threat and then do the Landsmeet, and I feel like Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts is trying to recapture that.  But the thing about the Landsmeet is that all that political intrigue directly affects YOU, THE WARDEN.  Loghain betrayed YOU.  His betrayal made the world ending threat worse for YOU.  After he betrays Cailan, he plasters wanted posters all over with your face on it.  And on top of that, your companion, who may be your bestie or your lover, has a personal stake in the Landsmeet.  Alistair hates Loghain for killing Duncan and Cailan--his half brother–and depending on how you handle Loghain, Alistair may decide he hates YOU.  And there’s also a chance of putting your bestie slash lover on the throne.

These are all VERY PERSONAL STAKES.

In DA2, there’s noises made about Hawke potentially becoming Viscount, and even though that’s not really fleshed out, it’s still something that DIRECTLY AFFECTS YOU.

The Winter Palace shit? I don’t know these people.  I don’t give a fuck about the empress of a country I don’t live in.  There are zero personal stakes.  No matter who comes out on top in that whole situation, the Inquisition fucking handles it as if nothing happens.  Consequences different for the next game, maybe, but like, if it doesn’t make me feel like oh fuck this is going to hurt me or my friends directly, then WHAT. IS. THE. POINT. OF. THIS????

i hate this game i hate this game i hate this game

[hecksupremechips]

re: udg reblog,

clearly the solution to “oh i love this but i don’t think anyone should play it” is to write a fic with only the good parts and none of the bad parts but then you have this big empty space where the bad parts were so you just make something up that seems vaguely believable

that seems like a normal thing normal people do right?

RIGHT?

It’s always correct and totally won’t ever lead to agony as you look at the canon and scream because my god how are you supposed to salvage something this stupid why are you doing this you used to be so normal and not care oh god why does attacking the little girl make her pants fly off oh god why is delta a character

[evilvvithin]

guess who finished rdr2 campaign just now

(Rest in peace Peanits my beloved brown hungarian pony i'm going to be emotionally recovering for next couple of days)

[bats-and-the-birds]

Been thinking about a Batfam meets the Justice League situation where Nightwing has been in the League for a bit a no one knows how he's connected to Batman. And for one reason or another, the League grudgingly needs Deathstroke's help for a mission. And Deathstroke agrees to help, but specifies "no Bats".

And the Justice League assumes he just means "no Batman". So the bring Nightwing with them, and also do not tell him about this stipulation.

-the justice league approaches Deathstroke on a rooftop-

-Deathstroke immidiately turns to leave-

Green Arrow: Wait, I thought you agreed to help us!

Deathstroke: And I thought you agreed no Bats.

Flash: We did! We left Bats back at the Watchtower.

Deathstroke: No. No Bats. Plural. Not only did you disobey me, you brought the worst of the bunch.

Nightwing: Aw, and here I thought I was your favorite.

[d1stalker]

Suspension Bridge Effect [Logan Howlett]

Summary: You saved one of the younger mutants during a mission, and now he's obsessed with you, much to Logan's dismay

Warnings: mainly Logan POV, jealousy, cuteness, fem!reader WC: 2.6k - MASTERLIST

----

Logan’s losing it; his thoughts are spiralling to the point where he wonders if he should be locked up.

At least, that’s what he thinks is happening as he watches the scene unfold in front of him. You’re standing near the edge of the mansion's garden, laughing softly as the kid—Johnny, a younger teenage mutant—tries to hand you a bouquet of hastily picked flowers. His face is flushed, eyes wide with admiration, and he’s practically vibrating with nervous energy as he looks up at you.

This punk, this moron, this lovesick blockhead, has been glued to your side ever since you saved him during the last mission.

It was supposed to be a standard run-of-the-mill rescue operation, but when things went south, and he was cornered, you swooped in like the hero you are and got him out unscathed. Now, the kid’s been following you around like a lost puppy, trying to win your attention, your approval—your everything. And it’s infuriating.

Logan can feel his hands clench into fists as he watches Johnny offer you the worst attempt at a bouquet he's ever seen, and sees the youngster's face turning a deeper shade of red as he mumbles something the older man can’t quite hear. Probably some dumb compliment, he thinks bitterly. The kid’s got no game.

You smile at Johnny. It's that soft, kind smile that always makes Logan’s heart skip a beat. But this time, all it does is fuel the fire raging within. He knows that smile isn’t just for him, but damn it, he wishes it were.

He wishes you’d tell the kid to scram, that you’re already spoken for, that you have a lovely boyfriend who could put together a way better bunch of flowers, but instead, you take the flowers with a gentle laugh, thanking the goblin like he’s just handed you a priceless treasure.

And somehow, the torment is never ending, it seems. Because later in the day he find’s himself lurking at the doorway of the mansion library, watching as you and Johnny sit together, heads bent over some book he know knows the little gremlin is just pretending to be interested in. That brat is soaking up every second of your attention, hanging on your every word, and it’s driving Logan up the wall.

“He’s just a kid,” you keep saying whenever he grumbles about it, but you don’t see it. You don’t see the way the bastard’s eyes light up whenever you smile at him, or how he leans in just a little too close when you’re explaining something to him. You don’t notice the small touches—the way his hand lingers on your arm when he’s pulling you somewhere, the way he looks at you like you’re the centre of his universe.

Logan sees it all, because he’s been there before. He knows exactly what Johnny’s feeling because he felt the same way when he first met you. Still does. It's that intense, all-consuming crush that makes you do stupid things just to be near the person you can’t stop thinking about.

“Logan, you’re staring,” Jean’s voice cuts through his thoughts, and he turns to see her smirking at him from across the hallway.

“I’m not starin’. Just keepin’ an eye on things,” he mutters, crossing his arms over his chest defensively.

She raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “You’re jealous.”

He scowls at her. “I ain’t jealous of some kid.”

“Sure you’re not,” she says, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “Why don’t you just talk to her about it?”

Clenching his jaw, he knows she’s right but not wanting to admit it. “She doesn’t get it. She thinks it’s cute.”

“Maybe if you told her how you’re feeling, she’d understand,” Jean suggests gently, though there’s a knowing look in her eyes.

Huffing and turning away from the library, Logan has decided that he’s had enough of standing on the sidelines. He needs to do something before he loses his mind entirely. But it seems he can’t escape this torture, because he can’t even get five minutes alone with you.

He tried to get your attention after you finished up teaching your class, but before he could, the little devil ran in front of him and got it first. His eye twitches as he watches Johnny offer you another “gift,” this time a poorly folded paper crane. You take it with a smile, thanking him kindly, and Logan grits his teeth so hard he swears his molars might shatter.

“Hey, kid,” He grumbles, stepping forward with a growl in his throat that would send most people running. “Don’t you got somewhere else to be?”

Johnny looks up, momentarily startled by the sharp tone, but then just gives a nervous chuckle and scratches the back of his head. “Uh, no, sir. I was just, um, hanging out with her.”

“Yeah, well, she’s got things to do. Don’t you, darlin’?” Logan’s eyes flicker to you, hoping you’ll catch the hint and send the kid on his way.

But you don’t. You just laugh. A musical sound that makes him want to clamp his hand over your mouth because why should that devil's spawn get to hear your beautiful voice? He’s truly about to lose it. 

“It’s fine, babe. Johnny’s just being sweet.”

Sweet. Logan wants to snort. Sweet is one word for it. Obnoxious, irritating, and clingy are a few others that come to mind.

“You got a crush or somethin’, boy?” His tone is laced with a dangerous edge as he crosses his arms over his chest, towering over the knucklehead. He’s trying not to outright scare him, but damn, he’s close to it.

Johnny turns beet red, stammering, “N-no, I just… she saved me, and I just wanted to say thank you, that’s all!”

Narrowing his eyes, a low snarl rumbles from his chest, and Logan takes a deliberate step forward, but before he can do more, you place a hand on his arm, pulling him back.

“Logan, that’s enough,” you say firmly, giving him a pointed look. 

Well, there goes another piece of his sanity.

You’re too kind, too understanding. You just don't get it. To you, it’s just an innocent crush, something harmless, something that makes you smile. You think it’s nothing, and that only makes his blood boil more.

“Fine,” he finally mutters, stepping back, though his eyes never leave the teenager’s. Johnny seems to take that as some kind of begrudging acceptance and gives you another shy smile before scurrying off, likely to find the next token of his gratitude to bring to you.

Once he’s gone, Logan lets out a heavy sigh, rubbing a hand over his face. “This is drivin’ me nuts, you know that?”

You just chuckle again, stepping closer to him and slipping your arms around his waist. “It’s just a phase, I’m sure. He’ll get over it.”

Wrapping his arms around you tightly and pulling you in close, he feels a little bit better in your embrace, but his eyes still track where Johnny disappeared into the mansion. “He better. ’Cause if he doesn’t, I might lose my damn mind.”

You tilt your head up, kissing his jaw softly. “You’re jealous, aren’t you?”

He huffs, not wanting to admit it, but the truth is written all over his face. “Maybe a little.”

Smiling, you lean up to kiss him properly. “You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

Logan kisses you back, a little more possessively than usual, as if to remind himself that you’re his. And even as you melt into him, he can’t help but keep one eye open, scanning the garden for any sign of that kid returning. He might be crazy, but he’ll be damned if he lets some lovestruck teenager get between him and the woman he loves.

—

The next morning, the mansion is buzzing with its usual activity. You and Logan head to the dining hall for breakfast, with him looking a little more relaxed after a night of holding you close. But the moment you step into the room, he spots a certain demon sitting at a table, eyes locked on you as if he’s been waiting for this very moment.

Groaning under his breath, Logan mutters, “Not again,” before guiding you to a table near the windows, hoping Johnny won’t follow.

You take your seat, smiling up at your boyfriend as he pulls out his chair, and for a brief second, he dares to believe that he might actually get to enjoy a quiet breakfast with you. But just as he’s about to sit down beside you, Johnny swoops in out of nowhere, plopping down in Logan’s seat with a grin like he’s just won the lottery.

“Morning!” He chirps, completely oblivious to the thunderous look on the other man’s face.

Freezing in his place, Logan glares at the kid who’s now sitting where he was supposed to be. He mentally cycles through a list of unflattering nicknames—Useless Idiot, Captain Obnoxious, Motherfu—but none of them seem quite strong enough to capture his current feelings. “You’re in my seat, kid.”

Johnny blinks up at him, feigning innocence. “Oh, uh, sorry. I didn’t see your name on it.”

You can practically see the self-control it takes for Logan not to pick the kid up and toss him across the room. His fingers twitch at his sides, his claws itching to come out, but he holds back. For your sake, and only your sake.

“Johnny,” you start, trying to keep your voice gentle but firm, “you do know he is my boyfriend, right? And even if he wasn’t, I’m a bit too, uh, old for you?”

The young mutant's eyes widen, and for a split second, you think you might have gotten through to him. But then he glances over at Logan, his face scrunching up like he’s just eaten something sour.

“Yeah, but he’s, like, hella old,” The idiot blurts out, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper as if the mutant standing right there can’t hear every word.

Logan’s expression darkens, a storm brewing in his eyes as his jaw tightens to the point where you can almost hear his teeth grinding. Hella old? Is this guy serious?

He's dealt with all kinds of enemies—mutants, monsters, government assassins—but nothing, nothing has tested his patience like this hellspawn has been. “What did you just say?” he growls menacingly.

Johnny, either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid, doesn’t back down. “I mean, no offense, but you’ve got a lot of… uh, experience, you know? And you’re like centuries old. Maybe she needs someone closer to her age.”

That’s the last straw. Logan’s eyes flash with anger and something else—something more vulnerable that you rarely see. A part of him knows the gremlin’s just talking out of his ass, but the words hit a little too close to home, stirring up old insecurities he usually keeps buried deep.

Without another word, he slams his hand down onto the table, the sound echoing through the dining hall like a gunshot. The room falls into stunned silence as he then storms out, his footsteps heavy and his anger radiating off of him in waves. He doesn’t look back, doesn’t acknowledge the whispers that follow in his wake. He just needs to get away before he does something he’ll regret.

“Logan, wait—” you call after him, but he’s already halfway out the door.

You turn back to Johnny, who’s now looking a little less confident and a lot more like he might have made a mistake. Sighing, you lean forward with a serious expression. “You can’t just say things like that. He’s not just my boyfriend. He’s the person I love.”

Looking down at the table, his face falls, and he begins fiddling with the napkin in his lap. “I didn’t mean to make him mad. I just thought—You saved me and I felt something…I thought maybe you’d feel something for me too.”

You soften, reaching out to pat his hand. “Johnny, you’re a sweet kid, but you’ve got to understand that Logan’s the one I’m with, and no one can replace him.”

He nods slowly, the reality of the situation finally sinking in. “I get it,” he mumbles. “I just…”

A small smile tugs at your lips. “You’ll find someone your own age who’s perfect for you. But for now, you need to give us some space, okay?”

Johnny nods again, this time more resolutely. “Okay. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. Just… try not to instigate anything else. I’ll go talk to him.” You give him one last reassuring smile before heading toward the exit.

When you step out into the hallway, you barely have a second to process your thoughts and decide where to look before you’re suddenly pressed up against the wall. A gasp escapes your lips, but it’s quickly swallowed by Logan’s mouth on yours. The surprise melts away as the intensity of his kiss overtakes your senses, and you instinctively wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

His kiss is possessive and fierce. You can feel the frustration, the jealousy, the need to claim what’s his, pouring out of him with every movement of his lips against yours. For a moment, you lose yourself in the heat of it, letting the world around you fade as you focus solely on him.

Then, through the haze of the kiss, the practical part of your brain kicks in. You pull back just enough to murmur against his lips, “Logan… we’re gonna get caught.”

He growls softly, his lips trailing down to your jaw, his breath hot against your skin. “Let them see,” he mutters between kisses. “Maybe then that damn dunce will get the hint.”

You laugh, though the sound is cut off as he captures your lips again, his hands gripping your waist as if he’s afraid to let go. “Babe, really,” you whisper, trying to sound serious but failing as your body responds eagerly to his touch. “People are gonna see…”

“I don’t care,” he grumbles, his lips brushing against the sensitive spot just below your ear, making you involuntarily shiver against him. “Shoulda thrown that little shit out on his ass… let him know who you belong to.”

“You’re jealous of a teenager,” you tease, though the words come out breathless and almost lost in the intensity of the moment.

Logan pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark. “Don’t like him sniffin’ around you, thinkin’ he’s got a shot.”

You smile up at him, your fingers threading through his hair as you pull him back down for another kiss. “You don't need to feel threatened by him. You’re the only one I want.”

He huffs softly, his lips brushing against yours as he mutters, “Damn right I am.”

“C’mon,” you murmur, gently pushing against his chest. “Let’s go somewhere a little more private, huh?”

He hesitates for a moment, his eyes flickering back toward the dining hall, as if half-expecting Johnny to come barreling out any second. But then he nods, taking your hand and leading you down the hallway, away from prying eyes. His grip on your hand is tight, territorial, and you can’t help but smile as you follow him.

As you walk together, you give his hand a squeeze. “Logan?”

“Yeah?” He glances over at you, his expression softening slightly.

“I love you, you know that?” You say it with that pretty grin of yours, and the way his eyes warm in response makes your heart flutter.

“Yeah,” he replies, his voice quieter now, more sincere. “I love you too.”

The remaining tension melts away, leaving just the two of you walking hand in hand, ready to steal a few more precious moments together.

----

A/N: this was really fun to write!

[moonxknightx]

♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ : MEET THE FAMILY : :;

╰┈➤ ❝ [PAIRING] ❞ Logan Howlett x F!Stark!Reader

・❥・GENRE: Fluff :))

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆FANDOM: X-Men & MCU

ੈ✩‧₊˚ WARNINGS: None!

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥SUMMARY: After your dad, Tony Stark, finds out you’re dating Logan, he insists the whole Avengers team meet him. Nervous but with Logan by your side, you head to the compound, with Wade tagging along. The Avengers are curious and a little skeptical, especially Tony, but Logan holds his own during dinner. He impresses the team with his confidence and clear care for you, even earning Tony’s reluctant approval by the end of the night. Despite the initial tension, Logan becomes a part of your chaotic family, and everyone accepts him.

Part 2

THE COMPOUND WAS QUIET. Too quiet. You'd been on edge ever since Happy had called you that morning, voice full of that awkward yet endearing nervousness he always got when delivering bad—or rather, inconvenient—news.

“Your dad knows.”

Three words that had set your entire day into a downward spiral of anxiety. Of course, Tony would find out. He had eyes and ears everywhere, despite you trying to keep things on the down low. And now, he had apparently told everyone.

Your boyfriend, Logan, sat beside you on the drive to the Avengers compound, eyes fixed on the road, completely unfazed. He was never one to be easily rattled. He hadn’t even batted an eye when you mentioned the entire Avengers team was going to be waiting to meet him. If anything, he just lit a cigar and shrugged, saying, "Not the first time I've been sized up by a bunch of superheroes."

Logan was like that. Unbothered. Calm in the face of impending chaos.

Unlike you.

You let out a deep sigh, clutching the steering wheel a bit tighter. "You know, we could just make a U-turn right now," you muttered, hoping, praying he’d take you up on the offer.

Logan chuckled, the low rumble soothing and maddening all at once. "Nah, darlin'. We’ll be fine. What’s the worst that could happen?"

"Logan, it's my dad. My dad, who, mind you, is Tony Stark. Genius. Billionaire. Overprotective father extraordinaire. I love him, but he’s going to grill you."

He smirked, one of those self-assured, slightly cocky looks that made your heart skip. "I’ve been through worse, trust me."

You were about to respond when a voice suddenly piped up from the backseat, startling you both.

“Hey, so what’s for dinner? I hope it’s not shawarma. I had that yesterday, and let me tell you, intestinal distress doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

“Wade?!”

The red-suited mercenary, Wade Wilson—aka Deadpool—grinned as he popped his head between the seats. "Who else? You thought I’d miss a chance to meet the Avengers again? Besides, I’ve got a bet with myself to see which of them cracks first. My money’s on Banner. Big guy’s got a short fuse."

You groaned. “Wade, you weren’t even invited.”

"Yeah, but you love me," Wade said with a wink. "Plus, I’m the one who introduced you two lovebirds, so technically, I’m responsible for all of this.”

Logan rolled his eyes, but there was a glint of amusement there. He had a weird, chaotic friendship with Wade that baffled you at times. Still, Wade had been the one to introduce you to Logan in the first place. After one of those typical Wade escapades where you'd found yourself smack dab in the middle of a multiverse-saving mission, Logan had swooped in, gruff and full of snark, but undeniably magnetic. You'd been hooked ever since.

"Alright, just... please don't say anything weird when we get there. This is already going to be awkward enough as it is."

Wade gave you a salute. "Scout's honor, kiddo."

~

When you arrived at the compound, Logan strode beside you, a protective yet calm presence. Wade, naturally, flanked the other side, completely unfazed by the prospect of facing a room full of Earth's mightiest heroes.

As you entered the living area, the first to greet you was not your father, but Morgan Stark, Tony’s precocious little daughter, who ran up to you with a big grin on her face.

"Hey, Morgs," you greeted, bending down to hug her.

Her eyes immediately shifted to Logan, who watched the interaction with a faint smile. "Is this him?" she asked, her eyes bright with curiosity.

You nodded, a little nervous. "Yup. Morgan, this is Logan."

Morgan looked up at him with wide eyes, studying him. Logan crouched down to her level, his usually gruff demeanor softening just a bit. “You must be Morgan. Your sister talks about you all the time."

Morgan beamed. "You’re tall."

Logan chuckled. “And you’re smart.”

Morgan grinned and then, in typical kid fashion, dashed off, satisfied with her judgment. "I like him!" she called out as she disappeared into the kitchen.

One down.

Then the rest of the team filtered in—Tony, Pepper, Steve, Nat, Clint, Bruce, Thor, and even Rhodey. They all sized Logan up in their own way.

Tony, of course, was the first to speak.

"So," he said, voice casual but his eyes sharp, "this is the guy?"

Logan straightened up, meeting Tony's gaze with that signature, unflinching confidence. "Yup."

Tony took a moment, probably running a full background check in his mind before nodding. “Alright. Dinner’s almost ready, but first, I think the team’s got some questions.”

Steve, ever the diplomat, stepped forward with a polite smile. “Logan, right? How’d you two meet?”

Before you could respond, Wade butted in.

“Oh, it’s a great story!” he exclaimed, gesturing dramatically. “So, picture this—alternate dimensions, worlds colliding, typical Tuesday stuff. I’m getting my ass handed to me by some bad guys—”

“I don’t remember it that way,” you interjected.

“Shh, let me have this moment. Anyway, I call in Logan here for backup, because duh, claws and healing factor, and then boom, sparks fly between these two.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms as her eyes flicked between you and Logan. "Sparks?"

You opened your mouth to reply, but Wade was too quick. "Like fireworks on the Fourth of July. Or maybe that was an explosion—I can't remember."

Logan sighed, clearly used to Wade's antics by now. “We met on a mission. Wade was being a pain in the ass, as usual. Your girl here held her own, and I liked that."

Your face heated up at Logan’s praise. You noticed Natasha and Steve exchanging a look. Clint leaned against the wall, his arms crossed, lips quirking up slightly as if he was already sizing Logan up.

“Multiverse missions, huh?" Clint finally said. "That must’ve been fun.”

Logan smirked, locking eyes with Clint, both men now in some sort of unspoken stare-off. “Fun's one way to put it.”

Clint didn’t break eye contact but gave a slow, approving nod. “So you’re used to the crazy life. Good.”

Thor, ever the enthusiastic one, stepped forward next, looking Logan up and down. "Ah, a fellow warrior, no doubt!" He clapped a hand on Logan's shoulder, earning a slight grunt from him. “Tell me, Logan, have you faced a frost giant before? Or perhaps a horde of dark elves?”

Logan gave a half-shrug, completely unfazed by Thor’s boisterous personality. “Haven’t seen those specifically, but I’ve fought my fair share of things with claws, teeth, and bad attitudes.”

Thor laughed heartily, clearly impressed. "Then we shall have many stories to exchange!"

Bruce, who had been hanging back, finally spoke up. "So, uh... any anger management issues we should be aware of?" He asked it cautiously, but you could see the hint of a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Wade snorted. "Banner, you're one to talk."

Logan just grinned, clearly enjoying himself. "Let’s just say I know how to handle myself.”

Natasha’s gaze sharpened. "I’ve heard about you. Wolverine, right? Healing factor, claws, indestructible skeleton."

Logan nodded once. "That’s me."

She studied him for a moment longer, then gave a small, approving nod. “Impressive.”

Tony, though silent for most of the interaction, was still sizing Logan up. You could feel the weight of your dad’s expectations hanging over the room. He wasn’t one to just roll over and let things be.

“So, Logan,” Tony said, leaning back with a scrutinizing look. “You’ve been around a long time. Done a lot, I assume. How exactly do you plan on handling my daughter?”

Logan didn’t flinch under Tony’s gaze. Instead, he gave a small, almost imperceptible smile. “She can handle herself just fine, Stark. But if you're asking if I’ve got her back? Always.”

The room went quiet for a beat. Even Wade had paused from whatever chaotic inner monologue he had going. The weight of Logan’s words, his seriousness, seemed to sink into everyone.

Tony’s eyes flicked to yours, and for the first time that night, his expression softened. A flicker of something—acceptance, maybe—passed across his face.

“Well,” Tony said, standing up and smoothing his shirt. “In that case, I suppose we should eat.”

As everyone began to move toward the dining room, you felt Logan’s hand slide into yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze. You looked up at him, relieved to see a small smile playing on his lips.

“They like you,” you whispered.

Logan shrugged, but there was a warmth in his eyes. “More importantly, they love you.”

You leaned into him slightly as you both followed the rest of the Avengers. And as for Logan? He had passed the test.

~

As the group settled into the dining room, the mood shifted slightly—less tense, more familial. The Avengers took their seats around the long table, conversations gradually picking up, but you couldn’t shake the subtle glances they kept throwing Logan’s way. It was clear they were still sizing him up in their own way.

Logan, for his part, remained calm. He was good at reading a room, better at letting things roll off his back. You’d noticed that about him early on—he had this way of commanding a space just by being in it, without the need for flashy words or grand gestures. Even so, you could tell by the way his hand remained close to yours that he was paying attention to every little detail. Watching, listening, judging.

Morgan was seated next to Tony, happily talking to Pepper about something she’d done at school that week, her occasional glance toward Logan full of childlike curiosity and approval. To her, Logan wasn’t an intimidating figure. He was your boyfriend—nothing more, nothing less. The simplicity of it warmed your heart.

Dinner was served, and Wade, who had somehow managed to squeeze in between Natasha and Clint, immediately started in on a loud, entirely unprompted story about a mission in Madripoor that no one really asked for.

“So there I was, pinned down by a mob of highly trained ninja assassins—yes, they exist, Steve—and I’m about to go down for the count when Logan here comes in with the whole snikt, snikt thing,” Wade mimed Logan’s claws extending with dramatic flair, “and saves my beautiful behind from a fate worse than death: losing my taco night.”

Steve sighed, rolling his eyes good-naturedly. “Right, because that’s clearly the priority in a life-or-death situation.”

“Exactly!” Wade pointed enthusiastically, as if Steve had just made his point for him. “This guy gets it.”

Natasha leaned back, smirking as she cut into her food. “So, Logan saved your life, and that’s how the two of you met?”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Not exactly. Logan and I didn’t really meet officially until a little later. Wade just… happened to be there. Per usual.”

“Per usual, my dear?” Wade gasped dramatically. “You wound me. You wouldn’t have even met this tall drink of Canadian water if it weren’t for me!”

Logan gave a quiet grunt of amusement, though he didn’t say anything. Instead, he caught your eye, the barest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as Wade continued his rambling story.

Thor, who had been listening intently to Wade’s increasingly exaggerated tale, turned to Logan, looking genuinely intrigued. “So, Wolverine, your claws—are they forged of enchanted metal, much like Mjölnir?”

Logan paused, mid-chew, and raised an eyebrow at the Asgardian. “Not exactly. Adamantium. Strongest metal on Earth. Had it grafted to my skeleton a long time ago.”

Thor nodded, stroking his beard thoughtfully. “Ah, I see! A most noble addition. I myself am well-acquainted with weaponry of such caliber. Though I must admit,” he leaned in slightly, “I would be most curious to see them in action.”

Logan gave a low chuckle. “Maybe after dessert.”

As the conversation drifted on, Logan slowly began to settle in. Steve asked him a few more questions about his past—carefully avoiding anything too personal or traumatic—and Clint, always the quiet observer, seemed to be assessing Logan from across the table, eyes sharp but not unkind.

Tony, meanwhile, hadn’t said much since dinner started. He watched everything, listened to everyone, but remained quiet, only offering the occasional comment or quip. You knew him well enough to recognize that he was still processing. As much as Tony trusted your judgment, the whole “overprotective dad” thing didn’t exactly disappear overnight.

“So,” Tony finally spoke up, setting his fork down as the rest of the table quieted. “You’ve been through a lot. War, battles, more than most people could handle in one lifetime. And yet, here you are.”

Logan glanced at him, not quite sure where this was going, but he nodded. “Yeah. Seen more than my share.”

Tony leaned forward, elbows on the table, and his gaze sharpened, narrowing slightly as if he was putting Logan through one last test. “My daughter’s important to me— really important. You say you’ve got her back, and I respect that. But if you’re sticking around… you’re gonna need to know one thing.”

The room stilled. Even Wade had gone quiet, which was a rare feat. Logan met Tony’s stare head-on, not a trace of intimidation or hesitation in his gaze.

“What’s that?” Logan asked evenly.

Tony exhaled, his expression softening—just a fraction. “This family? We’ve been through hell. Lost people we cared about. We’ve had our world flipped upside down more times than I can count. And the thing is… when you’re in, you’re in. No half-measures. No walking away when things get tough. You stick it out. You fight for the people who matter.”

Logan didn’t blink. His gaze shifted briefly to you, then back to Tony. “That’s how I’ve always lived.”

Tony nodded slowly, almost imperceptibly. There was a weight to that moment, a silent understanding passing between them. Whatever final test Tony had in mind, it seemed Logan had passed.

Pepper, sensing the shift, smiled softly and placed a hand on Tony’s arm, quietly grounding him. “Dinner was wonderful,” she said warmly, breaking the tension. “I think we’ve had enough grilling for one night.”

Natasha smirked, raising an eyebrow at Logan. “You’ve survived the inquisition. Impressive.”

Logan shrugged. “Didn’t seem all that bad.”

Rhodey laughed. “You’re lucky. The last guy that showed up to date one of Stark’s kids? He didn’t make it past the appetizers.”

Tony snorted, shooting Rhodey a playful glare. “That’s because that guy showed up in a muscle car blaring AC/DC and quoting Shakespeare.”

“I thought you liked AC/DC?” you teased.

“I do. Not when it’s a first impression.”

Morgan, who had been quietly observing the back-and-forth, suddenly piped up. “Are you staying here tonight?” she asked innocently, looking up at Logan.

Logan blinked, clearly not expecting the question. “Uh…”

“Morgan,” Pepper began, her tone gentle but with that motherly undertone of “not now.”

“What? If he’s dating my sister, maybe he should stay!”

Wade, sensing an opportunity to cause more chaos, grinned beneath his mask. “Oh, I second that motion, mini-Stark! Logan here can bunk with me. I’ll show him my extensive collection of ‘80s action movies. It’ll be like a slumber party, only with more explosions.”

Clint nearly spit out his drink, trying to stifle his laughter, and even Natasha cracked a rare smile.

Logan, who had been stoic and composed throughout the entire evening, just shook his head. “Yeah, I’ll pass.”

You burst out laughing, and as you glanced around the table, you saw that, little by little, Logan was beginning to fit in with the Avengers’ chaotic dynamic. Sure, there were still guarded looks and unspoken tests, but your family—both blood and found—was starting to accept him in their own way.

As dessert was served and the conversation shifted to lighter topics, you felt Logan’s hand rest on your knee under the table, a small, reassuring touch that grounded you. You leaned into him slightly, smiling to yourself. Maybe this whole thing hadn’t been as bad as you’d feared.

By the time the evening began winding down, Logan was in the middle of an animated conversation with Thor about battle strategies, Wade was loudly recounting yet another exaggerated mission story to anyone who’d listen, and Morgan had fallen asleep in Pepper’s arms.

Tony, now more relaxed, leaned over to you as the others chatted around the table. “So… Logan,” he said quietly.

You glanced at him, unsure of what was coming next. “Yeah?”

Tony gave a small, reluctant smile. “I still think you could’ve given me a heads-up earlier, but… he’s alright. I guess.”

You grinned, bumping your shoulder against his. “Told you so.”

Tony chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Don’t get used to it.”

As the night wrapped up and the team slowly began to disperse, you and Logan lingered by the door. Tony walked up to Logan, offering his hand.

“Take care of her,” Tony said, his tone steady but genuine.

Logan gripped Tony’s hand firmly, meeting his gaze once more. “Always.”

With that final exchange, you left the compound with Logan by your side, Wade tagging along (of course). And as you drove away, your hand resting in Logan’s, you felt a sense of peace settle over you.

Your family had met him. He’d met them. And while it hadn’t been perfect, it was the first step in blending the two worlds you cared so deeply about. In the end, Logan wasn’t just a part of your life anymore.

He was a part of theirs.

🏷️: @twinky-wink @fidgetingbee @astarions-girl-dinner @layladestiny8 @birdy-bat-writes

If you want to be added to the Logan tag list, let me know!

[thasdorah]

She bowed, stiffly, first to Uther, then to him. “Lightbringer. General." Ah. This was how it was to be played, then. "Ranger.” He was surprised at how calm his voice sounded. He had half-expected it to crack with emotion. “What brings you here?" "Tidings,” she said, “of the worst sort.” Her eyes flickered to Turalyon’s, then back to Uther’s. “Little else would." Turalyon felt a muscle twitch in his check and gritted his teeth. "Then pray deliver them.” The elf looked around, slightly contemptuously. “I wonder if I have not come to the wrong place for aid. I did not expect to find generals, knights, and holy warriors tending to babies in a church.”

endless list of reasons why alleria should never be sent on diplomatic missions ever

[oceantornadoo]

(simon riley x f!reader, same rank!)

violence, cod inaccuracies, reader is a badass

simon riley never calls you baby

until he does.

you tell him it has to stay hidden. you can't be known as "the girl fucking the lieutenant", no matter if you're the same rank as him, the same sweat and tears put into the job. it scares you, the thought of losing decades of hard work over some stupid fling with a man they call ghost. a man who brings you tea on your sick days, a man with soft eyes and a listening ear, the only man who's ever brought you to orgasm. the push and pull of your autonomy and your love is ever growing, that bone deep fear rooted in your marrow.

simon's scared too. scared of waking up and it's all a dream. scared that his enemies will find out, scared that it'll show he isn't so dead after all. he's been a rotting thing on earth for nearly four decades and he's comfortable with it; no matter how alive you make him feel. his hand on your waist feels right, but he can't bring his heart into the light.

so you call each other "lieutenant." maybe "riley" when he pisses you off, just to get under his skin. "dove" is rare, but it warms you up just the same, gives you an unbidden vision of hot chocolate and snow days. mainly its "l.t.", remnant of johnny, the respect and friendliness woven together sweetly. you murmured "babe" to him once, in the early morning when he sneaks out, and felt his shoulders bunch, the weight of it too much to bear. that was the end of pet names, or so you thought.

--

it's a foggy day on what becomes the worst night of your life. the mission is at a standstill, the intel outdated. you were supposed to be taking out a terrorist organization, blowing up the base of their operations, but instead the building is damp and abandoned, echoes of life the only sign they were here. price is in your ear, telling you to clear one last room and retreat, simon already on his way out. you nudge your way into the room with caution, years of practiced steps coming to you on instinct. for some reason, you don't catch the glint of a stranger's eye in a hidden corner. you don't see the rope in his hands, the knife between his teeth. the next thing you see is the floor, fog seeping over concrete as rough hands gag you and mutter promises of ungodly harm.

something's wrong. "price." simon murmurs soft and low, crossing out of the building to the tree cover below. "where is she? s'pposed t' be out by now." he's scanning the building through his scope, looking for that figure he knows so well, could find blind. "copy. 'er tracker says she's still in the buildin'. let's-" there's a piercing scream in the air. the ravens take flight from the trees. dark wings, dark words. "ghost-" "goin' in." a sigh on the other end. he can practically feel price's hesistancy but he doesn't care, heavy feet already moving back into the building. "you're goin' in blind, radar's jus' gone out." he swears under his breath, clearing hallway after hallway as the building falls back into silence. just as he comes upon a 4-way split, you scream again, the sound far away and to his left. "'m comin' dove, hold on." there's no gunfire, no sounds of fight. it's so eerie he thinks he might have dreamed it, his worst nightmare come true. his instincts lead the way, some knowledge of your location hidden in his blood. pop. finally a gunshot, and if he squints hard, he tries to imagine it being from your weapon. he's close, nostrils expanding at the scent of you, memorized even without your favored perfume.

there were four of them. you still can't believe you missed them, the thought in the back of your head as you fight for your life. scrambling from the rope one tries to force on you, becoming an eel as you slip out of their grasps. this is what you do, what you're trained for. until someone stomps down hard on your ankle, the force of it cracking straight through. you scream, can't help it, searing pain blinding your vision for precious seconds. they take advantage of it, gloved hands tying your own behind your back in a tight knot. you can't reach your comms so you scream again, this one out of frustration, desperation that your team, that simon, might not find you.

the big one shuts you up with a hand to your throat, a bruising grip that leaves you unable to speak. they aren't well trained, fumbling hands and shaky grips, and you're finally able to reach your holster, shooting the first between the eyes before you can even glimpse his face. now you're in your element, adrenaline covering the pain of your ankle as you fight back, shooting one after the other, digging out your knife for close combat. it's over in a blink, the men no match for your skills, and once you double check they're dead, you collapse in the corner, the pain of your ankle roaring. that's when you hear it.

"baby?" it's him (but it can't be). he's never called you that. you pretend not to see when he whispers it into your neck as you feign sleep, when he murmurs it in a grunt as he's deep in your cunt. he's never said it to your face. "baby!" it's definitely him, that gruff voice cutting across the fog. you whine out of frustration, your throat too sore from your attacker to call out. instead, you limp to the door, almost running into simon as he comes crashing into your own personal hell. he sweeps you into his arms and you let him, grabbing his shoulders to make sure he's real.

"y' hurt?" he takes a look around the room, at the carnage in your wake. "my brave girl." you're sobbing, unsure whether its from frustration or relief. still can't believe you got caught, feeling like such a stereotype to have your knight in shining armor rescue you. "handled them all y'rself, hm, baby?" he's all sweetness and it hurts, seeing his eyes swell in pride as he takes in the four dead men, gunshots and a knife sticking out of one's eye. "why- why are you calling me that, simon?" he's ushering you out, your arm around his neck as you limp towards freedom. "proud of you." he says it simply, eyes trained on potential threats, not watching your reaction.

"aye, i told you, gaz. ye owe me a drink." soap's voice crackles through the comms. they were on. which meant your team heard the whole thing, heard simon practically claim you, knew you were together, thought you were a slu- "she's too good for him. i don't believe it." gaz's voice replied. "bugger off." simon grumbled into the mic, the sounds of them snickering loud and clear. "good?" he turned back at you, stopping you before you approached the clearing where your team waited. his eyes told you something different, that he'd walk out of here right now if you wanted. the cock of his head meant he'd follow you anywhere, live off the lamb for decades if you wanted. that was all you needed to know. you nodded and pushed forward. "yeah, i'm good, baby."

--

this is SO CRINGE but it's been in my drafts forever and needed to start paying rent

[sceletaflores]

no logan actually has me in a chokehold, all I can think of is him being away for a mission but you’re so needy for him that you grab one of his flannels and ball it up and shove it in between your legs and then basically humping it to get off, and maybe he comes back early from said mission and you don’t hear him come in so he’s just watching you for a while before he’s had enough and decides to take matters into his own hands, btw love your writing keep up the good work!!💕💕

nat’s note: i read this and immediately had to put my phone down and walk away to breathe for a second. your mind is so beautiful anon, thanks a bunch for sharing! hope you love it <333

|| feat. logan howlett x fem!reader || 18+ SMUT MDNI ||

Six days is a long time.

Six days without Logan is almost unbearable.

The first three days were fine, nice even. You had the whole house to yourself, free to sprawl out on the couch and binge watch the guilty pleasure shows he always makes fun of.

The quiet was a welcome change—you could really relax, could sit with your thoughts.

Then day four rolled around, and things changed.

You started to notice the little things—the leather jacket he left slung over the back of the dining room table chair, the way the bed felt too big without him, how cold you were at night without him plastered to your back.

By day five, the quiet wasn’t soothing anymore; it felt empty.

You missed the sound of his voice, missed his scent melded in the sheets of your bed, missed the warmth of his body next to yours.

And by day six? Well, six days without Logan wasn’t just lonely anymore—it was a special kind of torture.

It wasn’t just the emotional closeness or the comfort of his presence you longed for—it was the rough scrape of his stubble on your skin, the way his body pressed into yours, heavy and demanding. The way his voice dropped when he growled your name, hands gripping your hips with a possessive edge that sent shivers down your spine.

You didn’t just miss him, you craved him.

It was settling in an unbearable ache, low in your stomach. A constant thrum that served as a reminder of just how much you missed his touch.

You didn't realize just how spoiled he'd gotten you. You haven't gone a day without at least four orgasms all year. Logan made sure of that, enforces it like it's a house rule he'd die before breaking.

You’d gotten too used to the feel of his hands roaming over your body, the way his lips traveled from your mouth down to the space between your thighs, the way his cock brushes against that special spot inside you each time he slides home in your pussy.

Your body longed for him in a way that made it almost impossible to focus on anything else. Every thought seemed to circle back to Logan, to what it would feel like to have him here, right now.

The worst part—no amount of toys or creative use of your hands was enough to soothe that ache. It didn’t matter how many times you tried to satisfy yourself; nothing worked.

The frustration was unbearable.

You blame that for your lapse in judgement when you made your way into your shared closet.

It was completely innocent at first, just you looking for something to wear to bed.

You only happened to trip over a shirt Logan must have left strewn across the floor before leaving. One of his favorites, a worn down brown and red flannel you'd seen him in countless times.

Before you even registered what you were doing, you bent down and scooped it up, burying your face in it. His scent—earthy, woodsy, and unmistakably him—hit you like a freight train as heat began to pool between your legs.

Suddenly, it was like Logan was there, surrounding you completely, teasing you with his absence. The ache deepened, twisting into something even more unbearable.

It was almost too much. That raw desire you’d been trying to hold at bay snapped its leash, and suddenly, the thought of going to bed wasn’t even an option.

You were already soaking wet by the time you made it to bed, greedy lungfuls of Logan's scent enough to get you there in no time.

The flannel was warm in your hands, the roughed up fabric felt oddly comforting against your fingertips and the skin of your cheeks.

As you settled onto the mattress, a thought crept in. Wicked and indulgent in a way that made your ears burn with shame and your stomach swirl with heady arousal that fanned the fire raging between your legs.

Before you could stop yourself, you slid your panties off, your body already tingling with anticipation

You pulled the shirt between your legs, pressing it against your dripping core, the familiar scent wrapping around you like a vice.

You moaned at the feeling, the first rush of relief flowing through you like water through a desert. The friction, the smell, it was almost like he was in bed with you, touching you, guiding your movements. But no matter how nice it felt, it still wasn’t enough.

The ache was only just lessened, the thrum of need was still there, undeniable and persistent.

With a whine, you leaned back on the bed, knees bent, legs spread wide, and you started to rock your hips against the fabric. Every movement sent delicious waves of pleasure through you, but it wasn’t the same. Not quite. You needed more—needed him.

Your fingers gripped the flannel tighter, dragging it harder against your aching clit. Eyes squeezing shut, you let out a desperate moan, hips working so fast the bed frame started thumping against the wall in a steady rhythm.

You closed your eyes, letting yourself get lost in the fantasy of him—of him under you, of his hands gripping your thighs, pulling you closer. His voice low and gravelly as he whispered filthy things in your ear.

Your breath came in ragged gasps, and you were so lost in your thoughts, so caught up in the moment, that you didn’t even hear the front door open.

Didn’t hear the heavy footsteps making their way through the house, getting closer and closer.

But when the door to the bedroom creaked open, your eyes shot wide, and there he was.

Logan, home a day early.

He’s stood in the doorway. His sharp gaze locked on you, jaw clenched tight. His eyes darkened, filled with lust and something else—something dangerous.

Your heart pounds frantically in your chest, but your body refused to stop moving, hips still grinding slowly against his flannel as if they have a mind of their own.

You expect him to say something, to scold you, maybe—but instead, a slow, dirty smirk spread across his face.

Without breaking eye contact, he crosses the room, shedding his leather jacket with a deliberate slowness as he does. He drops into the chair sitting in the corner of your bedroom, legs spread wide as he leaned back, watching you with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.

"I didn't say to slow down," he growls, the edge in his voice making your stomach flip. "Keep going, baby. Show me how much you missed me.”

The command in his voice was irresistible. Your body responding before your mind could even catch up, hips rolling against the flannel faster again, a soft whimper slipping from your lips. The friction feels even better knowing he’s watching, eyes dark and heavy with desire as he sees you fall apart.

"Logan, please" you gasp, hips moving faster.

"Please what, darlin'?" he hums.

"I don't- ah! Anything, please," you rush out, eyes glued to the obscene spread of his legs, where his strong thighs stretch the thick denim taught.

Logan shakes his head with a dark chuckle. "No, you wanna get yourself off without me you do it. Can't have your cake and eat it too, baby."

You whine, high and loud as tears burn at your waterline, threatening to spill down your cheeks. "I can't," you sob, voice tiny and pitiful in the quiet of the room.

"Don't be like that, princess," he chastises, clicking his tongue at you disapprovingly. "Know you can come just like this. Bet that pussy's been drippin' for days, huh?"

You nod pitifully, biting down on your lip as your legs starting trembling on either side of the balled up shirt.

“Fuck, look at you,” he growls, voice dripping with lust. “So needy you couldn’t even wait for me, huh? You missed my cock that bad?”

You nod again breathless, the pressure building between your thighs becoming unbearable as his words wash over you.

“Bet you were thinkin’ about me, weren't you?” His voice drops, rich and syrupy, and it crawls over your skin like a slow burn. “All this time, wishing it was me between your legs instead of that fucking shirt.”

Your movements grow more frantic, eyes dropping to his lap, zeroing in on where his thick cock presses against his thigh, tenting his jeans lewdly. Your mouth waters, lips dropping open with a quiet moan as you imagine him slipping between them, fucking your throat and making your jaw ache.

“Such a dirty little thing,” he purrs, his voice sending shivers down your spine. “You like putting on a show for me, don’t you? Gettin' off starin' at my cock while you fuck yourself with my shirt? Goddamn, I can see how fuckin' soaked you are from here.”

The flannel was soaked now, wet and clinging to your folds as you desperately rub yourself against it, your body trembling with need. Every roll of your hips makes you more desperate, more sensitive, pleasure coiling tight in your belly and almost ready to snap.

Your moans grow louder, filling the room as you chase your release, the rough fabric of his flannel dragging against your swollen clit in all the right ways. Logan watching you—making you do this—had you teetering on the edge, your breath coming out in sharp pants.

His voice was a constant stream of filth, each word sending shock waves of pleasure straight to your core.

“Atta' girl, that's it,” he rasps, his voice rough and commanding. “Come for me. Drench that shirt, baby. Make a mess of it. I’ll fuck you right after, promise.”

You were teetering on the edge, your whole body trembling with need as you rock against the flannel harder, faster, desperate for release.

"Come on, baby," he goads, leaning forward in his chair, eyes burning with something feral as he licks his lips. "If you get it nice and dirty for me, I'll wear it for you."

That was all it took. The thought of Logan walking around in his shirt after this, the fabric soaked with your essence, staking your claim on him, has you coming.

Your body shudders violently as waves of pleasure crash through you, pulling you under. Your back arches off the bed, hips jerking erratically against the flannel as you cry out his name, hot tears spilling freely down your cheeks.

Logan growls in satisfaction, eyes locked on you, watching as you tremble and gasp through the aftershocks. He stands from the chair, slow and deliberate, stalking toward the bed with a dark gleam in his eyes as his hands drop to his belt.

“Good girl,” he rumbles, voice thick with desire as he climbs onto the bed, caging you in with his body. His lips brush your ear, his breath hot against your skin. “Now it’s my turn, baby. And I ain’t even close to done with you yet.”

tags are now in the comments! if you want to get tagged for any of my works just fill out this form!

a/n: wow this really got away from me lmao...it was not supposed to be so long ANDDD sorry for the low-key fade to black ending but I had no idea how to end this heheh okay bye love you!

[chamomiletealeaf]

Follow up of the Alone mission:

Ghost and Johnny fucking you in the truck

HELL YEAHHHHHHHHHHH 🦅🦅🦅🦅

This turned way way longer than intended but enjoy this straight up porn 🙏😭

Warnings: afab! fem reader, tiniest bit of angst at the beginning, pervy Simon and Johnny, tit play, nipple play, threesome, eiffel tower position, dacryphilia, creampie, oral f! receiving, oral m! receiving, spanking, face slapping

Tensions and adrenaline were high. You and Simon waited for Johnny at the church and finally escaped with him in some truck you found.

It was scary. When Johnny didn’t answer over comms you automatically assumed the worst. You and Simon looking at each other eyes wide waiting for his response. You began to panic, gripping Simon’s bicep in anticipation and you both let out the breaths you were holding in when you finally heard his voice.

He managed to make it out alive. He made it back to you two… alive… You were all soaking wet from the rain, but none of you even noticed given the circumstances.

And as you sat in the backseat, Johnny in the passenger seat, and Simon driving away to safety, you finally let your guard down a little bit.

You leaned forward in the middle console and placed a hand on Johnny’s cheek, rubbing your thumb over his cheekbone, tears of pure joy starting to fill your eyes.

“You ok lass?” Johnny asks as he takes your hand.

“Yeah. I’m just, happy you’re ok.” You say with a smile, taking in the moment that he’s real. He’s there with you. And he’s ok.

“Oh bonnie.” He laughs. “It’s gonna take much more than sneaking past a bunch of eejits to lose me.” He reassures you and you laugh.

After about 10 minutes into the drive or so, going god knows where, you all start to feel the weight of your wet clothes, as well as the coldness.

You notice how the soaking wet pants on Johnny and Simon cling to their thick cocks, giving you a perfect outline of just how big they are.

You shift in your seat, blushing, and try to avert your eyes.

Under your tac vest, which was getting pretty heavy from the water absorbed by it, so you take it off, was a white T-shirt that had nothing under it.

You weren’t wearing a bra since you didn’t expect to be thrown into an emergency mission and didn’t have time to do anything other than throw on your tac vest and other gear.

Your T- shirt, sopping wet, clings to your chest showing off your nipples that have hardened from the cold.

You don’t notice it at first, until you catch Simon looking at you through the rearview mirror making him swerve a little. He wasn’t looking at your eyes though. And that’s when you look down and see just how exposed you are.

“Fuck.” You whisper to yourself and cross your arms to hide them.

Simon clears his throat to ease the awkwardness between you two and announces that the truck is going to run out of gas.

“Fuckin’ ‘ell.” Simon says, and you and Johnny look at him.

“What is it?” You ask.

“Fuckin’ trucks nearly empty. Thank god we’re in a remote area. It’s safe enough to wait here until Price can meet us.” He states, and Johnny sighs.

There was nothing for miles where you were, and it was better to be stranded here than in another Shadow infested neighborhood. Base was still a long ways to go anyway.

Simon pulls the truck over onto a shoulder of the road by some bushes to keep the vehicle somewhat hidden.

“This should do for now.” And he contacts Price on comms letting him know where they are.

“Price is on his way with Laswell. Give or take an hour or so.” Simon says and you sit in silence for a moment.

“It’s fuckin’ cold as hell.” You say shivering, trying to find something to say to lighten the mood.

“Me fucking too. Think I might come back there with you lass. Body heat might do us good.” Johnny says with a smirk and winces trying to get over the center console into the back with you and you giggle.

Simon watches you two make light of the situation and how your arms are still crossed as Johnny playfully snuggles up into your side.

“Fuck might as well.” Simon mumbles as he gets out the truck and moves into the back with you two.

You’re now soaking wet, in the middle of nowhere at night, in a truck with two big, thick, beefy men who are also soaked to the bone.

To anyone else, this may seem like their worst nightmare. But to you? This was heaven.

“Aren’t you two gonna take those off? It’s probably making the cold worse.” You say, referring to all their soaking wet heavy gear still strapped to their bodies.

Simon just looks at you, really wondering if you really just asked him if he’s gonna take off his gear as if he’s not always on guard.

“You know lass, if you wanted us to take our clothes off you could’ve just asked nicely.” Johnny says with a smirk and you playfully push him with your arm, revealing your bare tits to him through your wet, white shirt.

Johnny notices and his face changes. He’s no longer playful and he looks at you, and then at Simon, who he can tell has a smirk on under his mask.

You notice the energy shift and their eye contact and you get confused.

“What?” You ask them, looking back and forth between them.

“You know, we’ve got a bit of time to kill.” Simon says to the both of you and Johnny smirks.

“Aye, we do. Good thing we have this pretty little thing to keep us company.” Johnny says back and grabs your chin so you look at him.

You squeeze your legs together and arch your back a bit as you feel your pussy throb and flood with warmth at the thought of what they’re implying.

Simon laughs darkly at your obvious aroused reaction and he runs a hand up your thigh while he leans in to your ear.

“What do you say love, wanna kill some time?” Simon whispers and you whimper, turning your head back to Simon, but Johnny catches your jaw in his grasp and directs your gaze back to him. It’s then Johnny’s turn to whisper to you as he leans in, hand still grasping your jaw as he brushes his lips against your ear.

“C’mon dollie, might as well, especially when those pretty little nipples of yours look so ready to be played with.” He whispers, the smirk returning to his face when he notices your gasp, then he moves to suck on your neck making you whine.

“Been starin’ at ‘em ever since she got in the car.” Simon says to Johnny.

“So that’s- wh- mm, why we almost crashed then.” You say breathlessly with a smirk, not wanting to seem like you submitted to them so easily.

Simon moves his hand from your thigh up to pinch your nipple making you squeal.

“Oi watch your mouth dovey, or else I’ll have to put it to better use.” He says and you moan.

“C’mon bonnie. Let us play with you hm?” Johnny asks against your neck.

“Mmph. Yeah. Yeah, please. Want you both.” You stutter out, and Johnny smiles against your skin, immediately grabbing your hips and turning you so your back is to Simon and you’re now facing him.

He grabs your legs and yanks off your cargos, wrapping your legs around his waist.

He then attacks your nipple with his mouth, sucking through the stretched out sopping wet T-shirt that’s now see through that’s attempting to cover you.

He brings his other hand to squeeze at your other breast and Simon repositions himself so your back is against his chest.

Simon then lifts his balaclava up just above his nose and places a hand under your jaw, making you tilt your head just enough so he can suck on your neck.

You moan loudly, trying to bite your lip to muffle it.

“Uh-uh, sweetheart. No one out here to hear you but us. Let us hear you.” Simon says, and you let out a loud gasp when Johnny lightly bites at your nipple through your shirt.

Johnny pulls away from your tits and brings his hands up to squeeze them together, making the fabric of your shirt bunch and water gather between your tits, eventually spilling down your chest.

“Fuck me. Look at these bonnie fuckin’ tits. Look so pretty peekin’ through this shirt of yours.” He says right before smushing his face between your tits, lapping at the water dripping down from between them.

Simon stops sucking your neck and grunts.

“Alright mate move, you’ve had your turn.” Simon says and pushes his head away from you with a gloved hand making him huff in protest.

Johnny complies like the good boy he is and moves back to your neck all the way up to your lips where he begins to sloppily make out with you as Simon massages your tits.

His gloved hands feel so nice and rough against your soft tits and he squeezes them, making you arch your back and whimper.

He tweaks your nipples through your shirt before gathering them and jiggling them, wanting to really feel just how heavy or light they are.

“Fuck you’re right Johnny. Such perfect tits.” He says.

Then, Johnny moves down between your legs, biting at your thighs while Simon brings his hand up to your mouth.

“Take it off.” Simon demands, and you bite the edge of his glove allowing him to free his hand from it.

“Good. Other one now.” He says, and you bite the other glove, freeing his other hand.

He tosses the gloves aside and squeezes your tits with his bare hands this time, really getting a chance to feel them.

He bucks his hips and groans involuntarily into your back at the feeling of your nipples and the softness of your skin, even through the t-shirt.

Simon leans down to whisper in your ear.

“Didn’t know you had all this hidin’ under that tac gear this whole time lovey fuck.”

And you squeeze your legs around Johnny’s head at his words.

Johnny moans and moves up to suck at your clit through your panties, soaked from the rain and from your arousal.

“Oh fuck Johnny. Yeah like that.” You moan, and he wraps his arms around your thighs keeping you in place.

But you buck your hips too much, pleasure from Simon groping your tits and whispering to you and Johnny pretty much eating you out through your panties was too much.

“Mm. Keep her still for me aye?” Johnny says, muffled by your pussy against him and Simon moves his hands to grip your hips so tight you know it’ll bruise.

“Yeahh that’s it.” Johnny says, and he moves your panties to the side before he attacks your clit with his tongue, and you try to arch your back but Simon holds you down in place.

Johnny tongue fucks you, shaking his head back and forth and up and down making sure he hits every spot inside and outside of you. Lewd slurping noises fill the truck as well as soft praises from Simon and your panting.

“You gonna cum on Johnny’s face? hm? He must be doing a good job from the way I can feel you tensing. Him acting like a fucking mutt finally did him some good yeah?” Simon teases both of you, which just makes Johnny want to get you off faster.

“Watch it L.T., or I’m not sharing.” Johnny says and Simon just scoffs back.

“Yeah ok Johnny.” He teases with a smirk.

Johnny then slides two fingers into you and finger fucks you at an unrelenting pace just to show Simon he can make you cum.

“Oh- J- Johnny fuck, slow down.” You squeal out, the feeling of him stretching you so quickly being so good.

Instead he curls his fingers, hitting that perfect spot and he begins sucking on your clit again.

You reach down to grab Johnny’s hair and reach back behind your head to grip onto Simon.

“That feel good bunny? You like having Johnny play with your sweet little pussy?” Simon asks, ghosting his lips over your neck and leaving butterfly kisses on your cheek bone.

“Yeah. F-feels so good. Fuck Johnny. I’m- oh my god I’m gonna squirt.”

“Do it lovey, make a mess on Johnny’s face.” Simon says, and Johnny hums in agreement with him, and that’s all it took.

Johnny pumps his fingers into you a few more times as well as a few more licks and sucks to your clit and your legs begin to shake around him.

Your eyes roll back and you let out a squeaky moan as you squirt all on Johnny’s fingers and face, one hand in his hair as you bite your thumb on your other.

Johnny moans as he feels you make a mess all over his face and Simon lets out a multitude of praises.

“Oh fuck that’s it. Yeah. Holy shit, such a perfect pretty little thing. That’s it, cum for Johnny.”

You pulse around Johnny’s fingers and on his tongue as you orgasm and you fall limp letting the aftershocks take over, making your pussy pulse less rhythmically.

“Fuck lass.” Johnny says breathlessly.

“Didn’t think you were a squirter.” He smirks at you and you playfully hit his shoulder.

“Sorry I- I didn’t mean to-” You try and apologize while you catch your breath.

“None of that. That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” Johnny reassures and Simon hums in agreement.

“Fuck yeah it was.” Simon says.

“Now on your knees dovey, we’re not done with you yet.” Simon says as he lifts you up by your hips to position you so your ass is pressed against his front, and your face is in front of Johnny’s fully hard cock nearly bursting through his pants.

The space in the back of the truck is tight, and you don’t have much room, but you didn’t mind, being smushed between two thick cocks and all.

Simon rips your panties down from your legs and gives your ass a spank, making you jolt forward, pressing your cheek into Johnny’s covered, hard cock which makes him hiss.

“Here mate, catch.” Simon says before he tosses your panties to Johnny, which he then stuffs in your mouth.

“Such a pretty wee thing she is aye L.T.?” Johnny asks Simon, rubbing his thumb over your open lips stuffed with your own soaked panties.

Simon rubs his hands up and down your back to your ass, giving it three hard smacks making you whine.

Simon laughs at your reaction then says,

“That she is. Such a perfect little fuck doll.” Simon says as he pulls his leaking cock out and smacks it against your ass.

“Fuck. Gonna be in your stomach love.” He says when he thrusts forward pushing his cock up your back to see how far inside you he’s going to be.

He then leans forward and whispers in your ear.

“Is this alright sweets?" He asks before doing anything else, and you press your ass back into him.

"Yes. Please." You whine, voice muffled from the panties in your mouth so you nod your head as well.

"Ooh such a good girl, sayin' please without even being asked." Simon states pleasantly.

Simon then lines himself up with you and slowly starts to stretch you out with his thick length, making the both of you moan.

You grip Johnny's thigh in front of you for leverage as Simon slowly starts to fuck you.

"Fuckkk love, such a tight little pussy. You're fuckin' perfect." He says as he grips your hips, beginning to go faster.

Soon, he's slamming into you from behind and pulling almost all the way out so you can feel every detail of his cock in you, rubbing against your walls perfectly. The damp skin from the rain making the clapping noises louder than normal and both men watch how the water makes your ass shiny.

He speeds up, thrusting you forward into Johnny and he grabs your chin so you look up at him.

You're whining and whimpering despite your panties shoved in your mouth, Simon's cock pounding your pussy just right and Johnny holds your chin in his fingers so he can watch you cry from pleasure.

"Aww look at that. Poor little lass can't take it. That cock feels too good hm? Look so pretty crying like that. Such a wee pretty thing." Johnny coos at you as he runs his thumb over your lips again spread apart from your panties stuffed between them.

Then, Johnny grabs your hair and smushes your face against his erection, cheek squishing against him harder pushing you forward each time Simon thrusts into you.

"Yeah feel that? You ready for my fat cock? See what you do to me lass?" Johnny says, rutting against your cheek and Simon delivers a few smacks to your ass and grunts each time you squeeze around him.

Johnny unbuttons his tac pants and pulls them down just enough to see his bulge through his boxers and he pulls your cheek against it by your hair as he continues to rut against you.

"Fuck lass, could cum just from that cute little face rubbin' against my cock like that." Johnny pants out, still holding your hair and you let out a muffled whine making both men laugh.

"Fuck listen to that little snatch take that cock. Such a greedy pussy." Simon says as you hear the lewd, wet plapping noises coming from your pussy every time Simon thrusts, his balls slapping your clit and his thighs hitting into the backs of yours.

"Fuck bunny you're drippin' all over me." Simon says exasperated.

Your eyes have been unfocused this whole time from the pleasure and Johnny takes your panties out of you mouth and throws it back to Simon, where he pockets it in his tac pants. Johnny then takes his cock out, and gives it a few strokes before tapping it against your lips.

"C'mon dollie, open up. Time to fill that pretty little mouth with somethin' better." He says with a smirk and you oblige.

You take Johnny in your mouth and your eyes roll back at his warmth and size, his weight against your tongue so much better than you could've ever imagined.

You moan around him and lazily suck him off, drifting away from Simon fucking you so good and Johnny's cock in your mouth.

"Ah-ah." Johnny lightly smacks your cheek a few times to get your attention back.

"Eyes on me. Wanna see you suck me off." He says and you moan, liking being slapped by him.

"Fuck Johnny do that to her again. Made her clench so fucking hard." Simon whimpers from behind you gripping onto your hips and leaning over you a bit.

"Yeah? You like getting slapped around?" Johnny asks as begins to thrust into your mouth making you gag, making both men moan from the sensation it gave them.

Johnny then starts to thrust into your mouth as ruthlessly as Simon is, abusing your soaking swollen cunt and your drooling mouth.

Johnny slaps your face again and you moan around him, clenching around Simon again as your eyes roll back.

"What a perfect little fuck toy. Letting me slap her around however I want. So fucking good." Johnny moans out.

"Fuck I'm gonna cum lovey. Let me fill this sweet little pussy up. Need to fill up this cute little cunt." Simon pants in your ear, now leaning his chest on your back, one hand holding him up and the other rubbing your clit.

Johnny face fucks you harder, one hand in your hair and the other squeezing your cheeks together as he fucks your face, using you as a fleshlight.

You cross your eyes and roll them back from the pleasure, letting out muffled "mm hms" encouraging the men to keep fucking you and also letting them know how close you are.

"Fuck I'm gonna fill this pretty little mouth of yours. You want that? Both of us to fill you up hm? Creampie you from both ends? C'mon do it. Cum for us and then you'll get it dollie." Johnny says and you do.

For the second time that night your pussy contracts harder than before making Simon whimper and it almost hurts how tight you're throbbing around him. You moan around Johnny's cock as he continues to face fuck you and Simon's hips start to stutter. You feel so euphoric you can barely hold yourself up as your whole body convulses with one of the best orgasms you've ever had.

"Fuck that's it. Milk me with that fucking cunt. I- mmph." Simon says before he's nuzzling his face in the side of your neck, death grip on your hips as he cums inside of you, his cheeks flushing pink from the release and pleasure.

It doesn't take too long for Johnny to cum in your mouth either, and he does so with a grunt and a moan as he spills into your mouth and over his hand, his cum leaking out of your mouth from your cheeks he has squeezed together making a mess over his fingers and your chin.

You all take a seconds to come back from your highs, and situate yourselves in a more comfortable position in the back seat.

"Fuck. That was.." Johnny says.

"Not long enough." Simon finishes his sentences with a smirk.

"You ok love?" Simon asks and you nod, still wiping your mouth.

"Yeah. I'm good." You smile all fucked out making them laugh at the state they've put you in.

They help you fix your shirt that isn't much of a shirt anymore and put your pants back on.

Just as you all get your clothes back on and situated, you see headlights coming towards you and realize it's Price and Laswell just in time.

And how you three are going to explain your wet panties sticking out of Simon's pocket, is a problem for later when you get back to base.

-

CREDIT TO @captainswhore FOR THIS DELICIOUS IDEA OF JOHNNY GOING FERAL OVER YOU IN A WET WHITE T-SHIRT RAHHHHH

[pellucid-constellations]

Only in Dreams

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: In his dreams, Azriel recounts how he got to his mate.

Word count: 2k

Warnings: Some angst, mentions of injuries

a/n: Hi this is my first acotar fic idk what I'm doing. I've been reading them for years so here's a little one for fun <3 I know it's different from my usual but inspiration is a finicky creature :) Also, italics denote flashbacks.

~~

There was very little Azriel wouldn’t do for his mate. 

He had learned that early on. 

In those early days, when the bond had made itself known to only him, there was so much confusion and strife within the shadowsinger. He had known you for decades, admired you from afar, and befriended you under self-made pretenses. You were a light, a healer, too good and sweet to be anything to him other than a friend, a coworker. 

But you were also his mate. 

The air had been knocked from his lungs at the realization. 

“Is everything okay?” you had asked, sweet confusion bunching at your brows. 

And Azriel couldn’t answer, not for several long beats. 

“Az, what’s wrong? You look like Cassian after he took that weird herb Majda wanted me to test.”

Another bout of silence, this time accompanied by soft, warm hands along his cheeks. You leaned in, the sweet scent knocking him out of his stupor. As he jerked back, you only followed, blinking in surprise. 

“Azriel—” 

“I apologize,” he finally—weakly—stammered out. “I was talking with Rhys.” 

“You were talking with Rhys?” 

It hadn’t sounded much like a question, but Azriel nodded anyways, enraptured by you and your closeness. He needed to get away, to leave. You were too close. He was too weak. 

But then you giggled, and the sound was so melodic and saccharine that he found himself breathless again. He could get lost in that sound. If he was being honest with himself, he had gotten lost in that sound plenty of times before. But now… now. Gods, now you were his mate. 

As you laughed some more, teasing retorts echoing in the air, Azriel knew you had no idea. 

And, as Azriel had learned, that was fine. You didn’t need to know. Because he knew, and that was enough. 

Enough for the overwhelming devotion he felt for you to finally have substance. To finally be validated. 

You were his—everything sweet and good was his to protect. And, gods, did he want to protect you. 

You made that very difficult in the weeks after the bond had snapped for him. His instincts were in overdrive, taking note of your every move and praying to the cauldron that you were careful when he was sent on missions and you stayed back in Velaris. He had nothing to worry about when that was the case. The inner circle loved you almost as much as he did. 

But then Rhys decided you were needed. 

With an unreciprocated mating bond and a mate that cared so little for her own self-preservation, that had been Azriel’s worst nightmare. 

“Reconsider.” 

“There is nothing to reconsider, Azriel. We need a healer in Windhaven to show them that the clipping won’t be seen to fruition. And y/n just so happens to be our court healer,” Rhys carefully explained for the third time. 

“Send Majda.” 

Rhys held the bridge of his nose. “There is a reason y/n took over her post. Madja is far too old to be making those kinds of trips.” 

“Send anyone else,” Azriel rasped, a tightness to his words. 

“No. She is the best. It will only be for a few weeks and Cassian—” 

“Rhysand.” 

Rhys paused at the desperation laced within his brother’s tone. He removed the fingers attempting to abate the ache along his temple and observed Azriel’s clenched fists and restless shadows. Rhys’s lips parted in shock, his eyes blinking in quick succession. Something clicked within his gaze.

“Is she…” 

The muscle in Azriel’s jaw quivered. “Just don’t send her there. Please.” 

Rhys raised a hand to run down his jaw. “My gods, Azriel. This is…this is—does she know?” 

“No,” he replied, quick and low. 

“I understand what you’re feeling, but I can’t stop her. You know that, brother.” 

And, unfortunately, Azriel knew that. 

When you set your mind to something—when you knew you were going to help people—that was it. There would be nothing keeping you from helping those in need. Especially the Illyrian women. Azriel was pretty sure you kept a dartboard somewhere in the house with Lord Devlon’s face on it. 

He loved that about you, truly he did. But it also made you reckless.

There were plenty of instances where you burned yourself out from healing. You would come home swaying on your feet or be so depleted you couldn’t even winnow correctly. He could count on two hands the amount of times you passed out at the dinner table after work. When he thought about you doing that in Windhaven… Azriel couldn’t even stomach the thought. 

“Then order her,” Azriel gritted out. He could hear you coming. You and Cassian, bags packed, chatting down the hall about something insignificant. 

Why couldn’t he come, again? 

Right, because he would “stir up the camp” or whatever obtuse reason Rhys had given him. 

“You know that won’t go over well,” Rhys countered. 

“Neither will the entirety of Windhaven if she gets hurt.” 

Azriel’s threat fell on deaf ears as you came bounding into the room, bright and determined and smiling at him as if you weren’t leaving. 

“Here to see us off, Az?” 

That trip to Windhaven had been awful—for Azriel and for you. Rhys’s “ordering” hadn’t been effective, and neither had Cassian’s ability to pick up on context clues. As you stood, baffled at Rhys’s sudden change in plans, Cassian didn’t so much as look at Azriel’s subtle vies for assistance. Because Cassian had been just as baffled as you were. 

So, you went to Windhaven. 

And then you came home hurt. 

Not terribly, just a few cuts and a black eye that rivaled his own from the last time he trained with the Valkyries. 

Cassian explained that there had been a fight unrelated to you, but you had gotten caught up in it. He suspected it was a ploy to get hands on you, but Azriel had stopped listening to him the second you landed on the balcony with stitches on your forehead. The moment he saw your hands bandaged and your eye purple and blue. 

You had laughed about your inability to fight, knocking an injured hand into Cassian’s side as he jested that it was time for you to get into the training ring with him. Later, Azriel would agree with that sentiment. In that moment, however, unparalleled fear had coursed through his veins. Rhys was the only one ready for it. 

Cassian’s back slammed into the far wall of the house, wings splaying out against stone. Azriel’s shadows were gone as he held his brother against the wall, abandoning him in favor of wrapping around your wounds. 

Azriel thought he heard you scream. 

“You said you would protect her!” he seethed, pushing his forearm against Cassian’s throat, blue siphon blazing atop his hand.

“Azriel, stop!” Your call went unheard. Rhys stood ground in front of you, arm jutting out when you tried to get around him. 

Cassian pushed back against him, face twisted in confusion. “I did. I pulled her from that fight as soon as I could, Az. You think—” his words cut off with another shove from his brother “—you think I would have let anything happen to her on purpose?” 

Azriel growled, low and dangerous. “All I think is that my mate came back looking like that when you swore to take care of her. You swore.” 

The room went silent, stagnant. Even the shadows halted their appraisal of you as you held onto Rhys’s arm. Cassian stopped fighting. Somewhere down the hall, the rushed footsteps of some other member of the family abruptly stopped. 

“She’s your mate?” 

“Azriel—” Your whisper was lost in the lingering chaos of the room. 

The time after was a blur for Azriel. He knew he left the balcony, retreating to his room hastily after sending you a longing, apologetic glance. He knew you called after him, that you were breathless and shaking and Rhys kept holding you back… telling you to give him some time to cool off. 

He didn’t need time. He needed you, and Azriel had been positive that would never happen now. 

Half of his shadows joined him in his room, engulfing him as he sat on his bed with his head in his hands. The other half stayed with you, still worried about the pain that you had endured. It was a miracle you hadn’t sent them away. They would have listened to you if you had. They would always listen to you. 

When the door creaked, his shadows covered him even more, encasing his fear and worry and embarrassment into a shell that kept him safe. 

He was a fool. 

“Azriel?” 

He had to be imagining the sweet trill of your voice. There was no way you had come for him, not after all of that. But soon, your shoes slinked into the mess of shadows between his legs, and a bandaged hand gently guided his chin up. 

When he met your eyes, his shadows circled faster. His wings fell lower and lower against the bed, giving himself up to your gaze. 

“Azriel,” you repeated, music within the swish of dark air. “Care to explain, shadowsinger?”

The bruises on your face made his stomach turn. He went to look away, to escape this physical and mental turmoil, but you only locked your wrists and kept him there. 

It took him a moment, but he finally relented. 

“You are my mate,” he spoke, gravely and unsure—even though that was the one thing Azriel was sure of above all else. “You are my mate and you are hurt. I am sorry for my actions… if I scared you or—” 

“I wasn’t asking about the display of male violence on the balcony.” Your teasing smile made some of his shadows rest.

It also made hope swell within the deepest parts of Azriel’s wearied chest. 

You didn’t look forlorn at his offhanded declaration, nor did you look repulsed. You just looked like… you. You looked at him as you always had, and maybe that meant something. 

Maybe that was something for Azriel to hold onto. 

“How long have you known?” you asked, when he spent a moment too long admiring the upturn of your mouth. 

Azriel blinked, moving his eyes back to your own. “A while.” 

“And you weren’t going to tell me?” You didn’t sound accusatory, or even angry as he was sure Feyre had all those years ago. You only sounded sad. That made it worse. 

“I wanted to tell you,” Azriel stressed, leaning forward on the bed to capture your legs between his. “I wanted to, I just—y/n, I just…” 

There was no solid explanation. You didn’t rush him as he stumbled over his words—you were patient, as you always were. You were patient and Azriel was a coward.

Determination set a line in his brow. 

“I was a coward,” he affirmed. “I didn’t want to push you away… to make you feel unsure or pressured. You are… you are everything. You have been everything to me for many years now. If I had ruined that—if I had pushed something upon you that you did not want—” 

“Has it occurred to you, Azriel, that I would very much like to be your mate?” 

Azriel paused his spiel, licking his drying lips as he searched your eyes for the lie. 

“Only when I dream.” 

You had kissed him after that, all bruised and scratched and broken, and Azriel found himself dreaming.

As he stared at you across the sitting room, surrounded by your raucous, disruptive family, Azriel dreamed again. The glow of the fire lit up the side of your face as you laughed, sending warmth up the long-accepted mating bond, and he dreamed of you in every iteration of his life. 

And he would do anything to keep that dream alive.

[mzrowan]

We're binging Stargate: Atlantis and I'm obsessed by how this mission must be the worst kept secret in certain circles of academia. Like, dozens of the most prominent people in fields that start with xeno- and astro- have simultaneously vacated their positions.

And this is no sabbatical! Labs are being shut down, grad students farmed out to other advisors. Co-authors are getting terse emails like "I can't finish the revisions on this. You do it. Go ahead and take first author too."

And then six months later it happens to another bunch of scientists? This is like when the editor of Astounding magazine found out about the Manhattan Project because of all the readers changing their addresses to Los Alamos.

(I also feel bad for the poor schmuck just trying to finish their doctoral dissertation who's had two advisors up and disappear on them already. They're practically sleeping at the foot of their third advisor's bed like a dog with abandonment issues.)

[orteil42]

some undifferentiated thoughts about my Starfield playthrough as i have them. i am a game developer with a strong interest in procedural generation and i've enjoyed a bunch of other bethesda games so this might get pretty mean sorry

(this is a long one)

starfield dialogue is already exhausting me "oh you must've been living under a moon rock ;)" get it! because they're in space! this would've been too corny for the Jetsons

there's a kind of cheap dusting of space theme over everything. the food isn't salmon but alien salmon. it's not seaweed but alien seaweed. cooking alien stir-fry. come on

cannot get over how clumsily the theming is handled. books, board games, weapon names revolve heavily around space. these people have been living on alien planets for hundreds of years yet have this unending sense of novelty about it. the game takes itself completely seriously but feels like it's attempting to parody itself

people's EYEBALLS are CLIPPING THROUGH THEIR EYELIDS

a woman is speaking to me in french. her accent is about as believable as her haircut

these are some of the worst reflection maps i've ever seen

next to nothing is interactive. you can sit in chairs and sleep in beds and that is about it. can't even drink from people's toilets. disgraceful

game helpfully crashes 5 seconds after i decide i should get some sleep. very handy!

my character has not said a single thing since i started playing. not one peep. this is an unmitigated improvement over Fallout 4 i'm so glad honestly

the more i poke around the big city the more the NPC quips feel like something out of gen-1 pokemon. can't get enough of this coffee :) this city is where it's at :) spacesuits are comfy and easy to wear

very strange sense of altered reality from the quest dialogue too. has anyone at bethesda met a person before? i move on to some mission that has me scanning wildlife on a faraway planet hoping this will, somehow, feel less alien than human conversation

just as with No Man's Sky, every planet is uniformly dotted with equidistantly-placed points of interest that you slowly make your way to (no vehicles besides your jetpack) which always turn out to be some cave or building identical to those you've cleared before

unlike with No Man's Sky, the seamless exploration is faked and the biodiversity is nil. you do get an impressive amount of raw loading screens however

the prefab bases and power stations found everywhere on planets seem to have very sparse, very specific slots for spawning consumables, which results in encountering some giant industrial installation in the middle of nowhere with, i don't know, a loaf of whole-grain sandwich bread just casually sitting next to it all proper. there is no breathable atmosphere here. who is eating this

planetary traversal is a CHORE. i am saying this as someone who loved Death Stranding

heinous "hold to confirm" buttons sprinkled in various flow-breaking places throughout the interface

enemy AI is abominable. nobody is pathing their way to get my ass. "must've been the wind" taken to the next level. an infant playing peekaboo has more object permanence

hoisting yourself up on ledges when jumping is…nice

companions randomly nowhere to be found. persists through multiple fast-travels and loading screens until, just as randomly, they pop back up

storage space is now limited! unlike in Fallout 4 and virtually every other bethesda game, your containers now hold a finite item capacity. god forbid we let the player have fun

baffling inventory UI. i imagine there's a mod out there that completely overhauls it the way SkyUI did for Skyrim. this should not be needed! how are your UIs getting worse a decade later!

scanning the precious few species inhabiting some dusty planet; one of them is this arching red root i've already seen several times before. my job done in this biome, i travel (read: teleport with a loading screen) to the polar region to find some other species. the first one i catalogue is the exact same red root again but this time it's named "boreas root" todd howard is a genius

some alien horror comes at me full fangs out. i hop on a pebble. obscenely, i am safe

procedural terrain generation beyond dull, impossibly unimaginative. these people have not had one critical thought on what makes a procedural world interesting. beginning to feel validated in my belief that only i should be trusted with proc gen. along with perhaps tarn adams

jokes aside this is making me feel genuinely insane. there have been excellent procedural generation techniques that produce compelling explorable maps for decades now. bethesda absolutely has the budget and know-how to do miles better than this yet somehow they just…do not? the same way Pokemon has decided to just no longer bother with their mainline games despite being the highest-grossing media franchise in history? hello? what is for real going on

some of the most cynical breadcrumbing i've seen in years. approaching some random cave and this person in space gear, who in the vast immensity of the infinite cosmos just happens to be snapping pictures right here, tells me more-or-less verbatim "if you like this place, you should see this other place" [other random cave has been added to your map.]

i do not like how good this makes No Man's Sky's gameplay look. it depresses me how much i have to hand it to No Man's Sky for at least not fucking up this bad. please stop making me wish i was playing No Man's Sky instead this is grotesque

i think i've exhausted my interest and patience for this game at the moment. i'll get back to the main story at some point and try some other systems ie. crafting and base-building to see if there's any engagement to be found but so far, my god. my god

[7ndipity]

Just found your blog and LOVE your bts headcanons so much… after having watched Are You Sure?!, I need all your NSFW headcanons for OT7 as your boyfriend… please please please 🔥

Random NSFW Headcanons

Ot7 x Reader

Summary: Random spicy headcanons about the members

Warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, unprotected sex(don’t do this), breeding kinks, mentions of edging, oral(m. & f. receiving), bondage, sensory deprivation, dom/sub dynamics, somnophilia, voyeurism, idk there’s a bunch of stuff lol

A/N: You want my hcs? I’ll give ‘em, hehehe😈 Hope you like them!

Masterlist

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Jin:

Okay, I’m gonna make some of y’all real happy by saying, although I still think he’s mostly switch/sub leaning, he does have a dom streak in him. Like as much as he loves letting you lead him like a puppy on a leash(sometimes literally), nothing quite gets him off the same as taking control and pounding into you until you’re his empty headed baby, only able to whimper is his name.

He’s also a big fan of sensory deprivation, both giving and receiving. Blindfolds, handcuffs, etc. He loves the heightened sensitivity that they create, turning even the lightest touches insanely intense.

Has a major thing for cumming in you that it’s bordering on a breeding kink. Like tell him that you want him to cum in you, and he’ll propose on the spot💍

Yoongi:

He’s definitely into bondage and shibari(he’s been tied up/handcuffed wayy too many times in music videos to not be, lol) tho it would take a bit of coaxing to get him to admit it. There’s just something about trying out different knots and restraint styles, both on him and you, that intrigues and excites him.

Lowkey into angry sex, but not when he’s angry with you. It’s more those days when he comes home frustrated from the studio and he just wants to scream, so he makes it his mission to make you scream instead, hehe.

Has recorded himself getting off for you and thought about sneaking it into the background sounds of one of his Agust D tracks(might have actually done it, but he won’t admit it bc he’s a menace and likes to fuck with your head, so you’re just sat listening to every little detail on his demos, lol)

Hobi:

This boy is a certifiable freak, you cannot convince me otherwise. Like except for a relatively small list of hard no’s, he’s open to playing around and testing out pretty much any sort of kink/scenario that you might be interested in.

Lowkey very into the idea of watching you fuck one of his friends rapline whats up?, guiding them on just how to touch you, watching the way your face scrunches up in pleasure, just to turn around and fuck you into oblivion afterwards.

Man adores having his head between your thighs and actively begs you to ride his face. And don’t even think of arguing that you’re too heavy or whatever, bc he’ll spend the next hour worshiping your body and showering you with so much praise that you won’t be able to think, let alone remember any of your insecurities🫠

Namjoon:

Although we’ve established he’s definitely more of a daddy dom, he definitely has a weakness for you taking the lead or being on top(“pro rider, hohohoho rider” I had to, I'm sorry). Something about him being under you, watching the way your body moves on top of his, feeling the way you take him so perfectly, just makes his brain go hazy🤤

Idk if he’s fully aware that it’s a kink/thing, but he’s definitely into temperature play. Ice cubes, hot wax, even just blowing cool air over his skin makes him tingly in all the right ways. 

He loves to tease you at the worst moments. Like you could be on phone with a friend or whoever, and he’ll let his hands start to ghost along your arms, down your sides, across your chest, between your thighs… seeing just how long it takes before your voice and focus start to waver, quickly hanging up and giving him your full attention

Jimin:

*cough*ropebunny*cough* Sorry, what?

No but fr, he loves being tied up in different pretty styles of shibari, but he treats it like an art form, with different silk ropes and ribbons. He wants to feel pretty and treasured, caressed with soft voices and sweet words, regardless of if you’re teasing and edging him to tears.

Lowkey into semi-public sex, teasing you at dinner with his friends with his hand creeping along your thigh under the table till you’re squirming and begging him to find an excuse for you both to be excused for a minute. Dude will fully have you shaking and seeing stars and then walk out of the bathroom like nothing happened.

Definitely the biggest fan of aftercare out of all the members, like he treats it as more of a sensual spa night for the two of you; candlelit baths together, gentle massages to work out any tense muscles, cuddling in bed that might turn into cockwarming or a very sleepy round two... 

Taehyung:

Definitely into taking photos of the two of you, both on his phone and on his retro film cameras. Man turned his guest room into his own studio/darkroom and learned how to develop film by himself so that no one else but you would see his artwork.

Loses his goddamn mind every time you go down on him. Like if you ever wanna make his mind go completely blank, all you have to do is let him feel your warm, wet mouth close around his length, and he’s absolute putty in your hands.

Feel like he’s very into lingerie, both for you and himself. He loves feeling like a pretty present for you to open and play with, and vice versa. You literally came home on your birthday to him waiting for you in some pretty little silk number with a bow on his head as your gift.

Jungkook:

Although I’ve said before he’s a dom leaning switch, when he subs, he lets go completely. He loves letting his mind shut off and being at your mercy, letting you take control and turning him into a needy whining mess. 

For the similar reason, he has a major dumbifacation kink, both giving and receiving. He loves the idea of being fucked to the point that your mind goes completely blank and all you can think and focus on is how you make each other feel.

Definitely has a thing for somnophilia, again both giving and receiving. The thought of touching and teasing each other, your bodies reacting purely out of instinct, seeing how long it takes for you to wake up so that you can fuck each other properly, the whole thing makes him crazy. His favorite way to wake up, 5 stars, highly recommend🤭

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @feminympho @classicalelephant @dfqcsqueen @mother2monsters @comingupwithacoolnameishard @bo0ghol @universal-travel-er @k4ngelz

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

Hiii! Could you imagine one where the reader finds out she's pregnant during one of Spencer's missions and when he comes home she has a crisis and ends up feeling ill and Spencer doesn't know how to help and the reader doesn't know how to tell him she's pregnant. (Both are already married)

i took this opportunity to set my pregnant!reader series into the future cause i already planned for them to have another child. request is tweaked justttt a little.

“my dear sweet penny, can you hit me with a bus? i want this misery to end.” you’ve been hit with the worst stomach bug or flu or just something that’s been lasting since spencer went on his case, five days ago.

your mom took your daughter for the day when you realized you weren’t getting out of bed anytime soon and you called in your reinforcement of one penelope garcia. the case ended yesterday but the team had to stay an extra day due to weather in their state, so penelope has been keeping you company for the past two days. it was nice to have an adult conversation instead of bluey and the same princess movies.

“okay, if you’re pleading for death that means it’s time to head over to a hospital. i don’t want spencer to hypothetically bite my head off if something happens to you.” her bright blonde hair was your shining sun in your darkened bedroom. and her jewelry were loud gongs with each step she took. ���i hate to sound like a bitch but can you like, be the opposite of yourself today?” moaning and groaning as you tried pushing off the tossed sheets.

“yeah, you need a doctor. cause and i quote ‘penny if i even say to change yourself i’ve been abducted and that’s an alien.’ hopefully they can give you good drugs.”

at the hospital they took some blood, made you pee and just did a bunch of other check ups when it was shown you were sick with anything. so after an hour or so your doctor renters the sterile room with his clipboard and a poker face. “well, you’re not sick, but you are pregnant. we’ll get an ultrasound in here to check on the fetus.” talk talk talk and then he left again, leaving you and penelope open mouthed shocked.

“holy shit,” breathing out as your hand rubbed over your still small belly. “i told spencer i couldn’t keep my hands to myself.” telling that to the ceiling.

“oh, i’ll have another godchild! i’m so happy to live vicariously through you.” penelope stood at your side and smiled down at you. you turned your head towards her, “you know when they’re older, you’ll be our go-to babysitter then. so just be prepared for that.”

with the ultrasound done they confirmed you were almost done with your first trimester and that left you a bit shocked. you were three months pregnant but didn’t know, now you understand how some of those other ladies feel. but you were excited for another, but then you were done, seriously.

you tried calling spencer after leaving but his phone when to voicemail, but you didn’t think anything of it. probably feel asleep or out doing something with his team. so when you arrived to your mom’s place you were a bit surprised to see your husband holding your daughter and swinging her around.

“you’re back!” penny the first to speak and move further into the home. spencer and anna both turned their heads and smiled at the bright lady. “auntie penny!” your annabeth squealed with an arm out.

she happily took her from spencer’s hold and moved her away so you could talk with spencer. his puppy eyes and downturn mouth made your heart soar, oh how he’s gonna get you into so much trouble.

“you feeling better? your mom said it’s been a week.” pulling you into his hold, cheek pressed into his chest as his palms rubbed over your shoulder blades and spine. you sighed, “yeah, penny took me to the doctor. turns out i wasn’t sick… i was- i am pregnant.”

spencer’s hands stopped and leaned back, “what?” his brows raised into his curling locks. “how far along?” “three months…” biting into your bottom lip as you watched him go through his mental calendar. you both knew your period was irregular, that’s why you didn’t think anything of it.

“so it must’ve been sometime after annie’s fourth birthday,” spencer came to the conclusion. leaned in to peck your forehead, “are you okay with another?” always making sure you were okay with the decision.

you smiled up at him with a twinkle in your eyes, “absolutely.”

[idkwhatever580]

Breaking up with you

Masterlist

Pairings: Natasha romanoff x reader

Prompt: y/n is already having a bad day, what happens when she overhears Natasha and Clint’s conversation?

Warnings: angst but fluff at the end (don’t worry I am incapable of writing a sad ending 😭), swearing, breaking up, mentions of upcoming period, crying

Y/n’s pov

I wake up feeling clingy today. I don’t even know why it’s just one of those days.

I whine when I realize there is sun seeping in through the windows and onto my face so I flip around to find Natasha but she isn’t there.

I pout and reach for her until I find the end of the bed but no natty

“Natty?”

I mumble still with my morning sleepy voice.

No answer

Of course. She’s probably training. But she usually waits for me to wake up or at least leaves a note

I never did check if she left a note. So I look at both of our bedside tables. Nothing. I check my phone. Nothing. I get up to go to the bathroom. Not even a sticky note on the mirror.

Tragic

Maybe she got called on a last minute mission. No. She’d have someone tell me if she couldn’t tell me herself.

So why isn’t she here? I just want to cuddle with my girlfriend and eat takis.

Ohhhh. I get it now. I’m gonna start my period soon. I always crave takis when I’m about to be on my period. Which is probably also why I’m feeling so clingy.

So I check the time and shrug thinking what’s the worst that can happen if I eat a bag of takis for breakfast?

I grab one of the throw blankets as I pass the living room to the kitchen and walk into the pantry.

I look at my section and find the line of takis that says ‘OFF LIMITS I’LL BITE YOU!’ On its label. And I grab a bag happily knowing that nobody has tried taking them.

Except for Peter. Poor kid. I was actively on my period and he didn’t know since he was new. Ended up with his aunt laughing next to me when he was showing her the bite marks on his arm. She told him that he should have read the label.

I agree. Always listen when someone says they’ll bite you. They probably mean it.

Anyways. I go to the living room and plop down and then I say

“Friday?”

“Yes miss y/l/n?”

“Where is everyone?”

It’s a bit muffled since I’m stuffing my face with takis but Friday is able to understand.

“They are all in a meeting right now”

I furrow my eyebrows and say

“Without me?”

“It seems to be that way yes”

I frown and get up going to the meeting room.

##################

Natasha’s pov

We are having a meeting without y/n and suddenly Friday speaks up

“Miss y/l/n is on her way to the meeting room now. I would advise you hurry.”

We all scramble to change the scenery to make it look like a normal meeting about an upcoming mission.

Y/n walks in and says

“What’s going on guys?”

Wanda invades my brain and says

“Ignore her. Do not say a thing. I’ll handle it”

I nod once. I don’t really need to ignore her, but it fuels the fire I guess.

Wanda speaks up finally

“Oh we’re just having a meeting about our next mission. We decided to let you sleep in since your skill set isn’t required for this one.”

She shrugs her shoulders and says

“Okay. Hi nat”

She smiles and waves before leaving and I don’t say a thing.

Once she’s gone and Friday says that she is not coming back we let our breaths out and tony says

“That was a close one”

##################

Y/n’s pov

I sit back down and start to overthink.

I usually am able to keep my thoughts at bay but today is just not my day. So I get lost in my head.

Why did nat not say anything? She always says something. Always makes an effort to get up and show me some affection. Maybe it’s an off day for her too. Sometimes she doesn’t like to be affectionate and maybe that’s why.

I break myself out of my head when some of the avengers come tumbling into the room.

Nat is not one of them so I say

“Where’d nat go?”

A bunch of them shrug but Wanda says

“I think she might have gone upstairs.”

I nod my head and say in a slightly more hushed tone just to Wanda

“Did she seem off?”

Wanda shakes her head and says

“No? Why?”

I say

“Oh”

And shrug my shoulders and pick myself up

“No reason. Just wondering. Thanks!”

So I head upstairs and find Natasha in our room. She’s sitting on the bed and reading a book.

“Hey baby! You didn’t leave a note telling me where you were”

I fake pout at her and she doesn’t do anything just mumbles a quick apology.

I try to get a conversation going.

“No it’s okay baby. I just got a little lonely for a sec.”

She ignores me but I can’t catch a signal so I keep trying.

“What are we doing today?”

She just ignores me again and I sigh and say

“I guess that book is real good. I’ll leave you to it. I think I left my takis in the living room anyways. So I’ll be down there probably on my phone if you need me. I love you”

She doesn’t even say I love you back to me.

Alright. Im a bit hurt by that one. But nevertheless I do what I said I would.

I finished my bag of takis a while ago and I’m falling asleep on this couch. It’s definitely not as comfortable as nats arms but she probably needs space. Maybe the meeting made her have a few flashbacks or something.

Whatever it is I’ll give her enough space to process it.

My thoughts are cut off when the sweet escape of sleep overtakes me.

…

I wake up about an hour later and find that someone had put a blanket over me while I was out. Thanks.

I get up and go to our room hoping nat is ready to talk now. But she’s not there when I get there so I go in search of her.

After a while I find her in Clint’s room but I don’t go in. They’re talking and for some reason I get the urge to eavesdrop. So I do.

“Well you have to say something. You can’t just be leading her on. It’ll hurt her worse.”

“I don’t know Clint”

“Nat. I think you should just tell her”

Wait. Are they talking about me?

“How am I even supposed to go about that? I mean. It’s gonna be so awkward! Not to mention it’ll break the poor girl’s heart”

“Well sometimes you have to do things that aren’t comfortable for you.”

“Okay so I have to go and tell this girl who is head over heels for me that I’m not?! I mean. It’s so obvious right?”

“It is pretty obvious that you don’t like her”

“Yeah well she’s clearly not catching any signs. She’s really naive and besides, I’m literally-”

Fuck this shit.

I walk back to our room to get away from it all.

I can’t even handle this right now. My own girlfriend isn’t in love with me anymore. Of course.

Just when I think she’s in it with me forever. She doesn’t even like me.

And I’m so stupid to not notice that she was feeling this way. I’m probably holding her back.

This is bullshit. Why today? Why me?

I sulk in my room for a while and then I realize that I should surprise her and break up with her first. It’ll make it easier anyways.

I huff and decide to finally get dressed. I probably shouldn’t break up with her in my stitch pajamas.

So I change into some decent clothes and make sure I look presentable. Then I once again go in search of my soon-to-be ex-girlfriend.

This time I find her in the living room. I stand tall and say

“Natasha”

She ignores me. Fucking bitch. At least get the balls to break up with me. I’m having to do it for you.

“Natalia”

I use her name and she looks at me. Her face is still but I know she’s listening.

“May I have a word with you? Alone”

I emphasize the alone part and she nods her head softly. We walk in silence to our room and I close the door behind me.

We stare at each other for a second when she breaks the silence

“You wanted to tell me something? Is everything alright?”

I cross my arms and say

“No everything is not alright. I just want to say a few things and then I’ll be on my way.”

She nods her head and quirks a brow. I know she notices my standoffish behavior.

“I’m breaking up with you”

I tell it to her blunt. And her face goes through so many emotions before she’s able to say

“What?!”

I look at her and say

“You heard me”

She shakes her head to break out of her thoughts and she says

“Yes I heard you but you can’t be serious right?”

I narrow my eyes at her and give her a nasty look and say

“What? Didn’t see it coming?”

She shakes her head and says

“Wha- wh- why?”

I roll my eyes and say

“You act like you didn’t want this in the first place. There’s a few things you should know. Im not naive. I’m not oblivious. And I’m not your girlfriend. Don’t worry. I made it easy for you now you don’t have to break my heart.”

She tears up and before she can make her case I walk out. I don’t want to hear it.

And I’m about to break down. So I quickly walk to Wanda’s room and storm in.

She stands up quickly and vision, who was sitting on the bed with her watching sitcoms, makes a speedy exit upon seeing my state.

“What’s wrong?”

I sniffle and try to hold back my tears and I say

“I broke up with Natasha”

“WHAT?!”

I start completely sobbing by now. Wanda picks me up and carries me into her bed and she comforts me until I can speak in full sentences again.

“Okay what happened? I thought she was your endgame”

I nod and say

“She was. Until I heard her talking to Clint earlier”

She furrows her eyebrows and says

“What did you hear?”

I tell her about the conversation I overheard and she squints analyzing my retelling.

“Is it okay if I call Clint in here? It sounds like you didn’t get the full story and I want to hear another side to it”

I shrug my shoulders and nod my head so Wanda texts him. After a few minutes he comes in with an angry face and a wet patch on his shoulder.

Great. Natasha’s already gotten to him.

“Why would you do that y/n?!”

Wanda cuts him off and says

“Hold on Clint. Before we get to that we need to hear something from you okay? So calm down”

Wanda explains to him what I’ve told and he sighs. Then he starts chuckling softly and then full on laughing and I frown and say

“What’s so funny!?”

He shakes his head and says

“Y/n. Natasha wasn’t talking to me about you. She was talking to me about Reese. The new intern. She’s been all over Natasha recently and cannot pick up any signs. If you had stayed a second later you would have heard Natasha say ‘and besides. I’m literally in love with y/n’ and none of this would have happened.”

I look down a little embarrassed.

“I guess sometimes I get a little bit angry. I didn’t even think.”

He nods his head and pats my shoulder and says

“I think you should go and fix this.”

I nod my head and go to his room where Natasha is.

I knock softly and say

“Nat?”

She jumps up and wipes her tears trying to seem strong and says

“Oh. What’s up. Did you need me to get my things?”

I shake my head and say

“I’m so sorry baby. I was eaves dropping on your conversation with Clint earlier and I missed some parts and thought you were talking about me! So I got angry and sad and then I was like ‘well if she’s thinking about doing it to me I’m gonna do it first’ because I was protecting myself from the inevitability of a heart break. I love you so much and I just was scared. I didn’t even think to ask you about it first and I’m sorry I was just being sensitive today and I had no idea! I am so sorry and I compl-”

Natasha cuts off my ramble with a kiss and I obviously kiss back.

We somehow end up half way making out until Clint says

“Hey! Not in my room you fucking horndogs!”

We pull away and giggle and Natasha grabs my hand and pulls me to our room and I say

“I’m sorry”

She shakes her head and says

“Y/n when you said that to me it made my heart split in two. I love you entirely too much to make the mistake of letting you go. I’m sure I would have come after you if it weren’t for my initial shock. I guess I just thought we were so endgame that the thoughts of a breakup would have never crossed my mind.”

I smile and say

“I’m sorry.”

Then all of a sudden I get nervous and play with my hands and look at the ground and she says

“What’s on your mind sweetheart?”

I bite my lip and say

“Since I um. Since I broke up with you like thirty minutes ago will you- um- will you be my girlfriend again?”

She laughs and says

“Yes of course baby”

I smile and say

“Sorry. It felt informal to not ask.”

She cups my face in her hands and says

“Next time let’s talk about it before we go breaking up with each other yes?”

I nod my head and say

“Sorry. I think I’m starting my period soon so I’m kind of having some fog brain.”

She nods her head in understanding and I say

“Now that we’re okay, can I have cuddles?”

She smiles and says

“Yes dorogoy. Of course we can.”

I smile and then say in a teasing tone

“This is actually your fault”

She scoffs as I cuddle next to her and plays along

“How is this my fault?!”

“You didn’t leave a note for me this morning.”

She rolls her eyes and says

“I am sorry baby. I was rushed out of bed and it slipped my mind. I guess it’s because I usually don’t have meetings without you so I forgot”

I nod my head and say

“You forgort”

I giggle a bit and she says

“You and your fricken vocal stims.”

I smile and say

“I think I’m pretty cool”

She smiles and says

“The coolest. Now let me cuddle my girlfriend in peace”

I smile and pull her super close to me. Then push her away as a joke and half way yell

“Leave room for Jesus!”

She rolls her eyes and says

“Come here.”

I get closer and say

“I love you”

She smiles and says

“I love you too”

##################

Taglist

@ilovesnat @ihartnat @marvelnatasha12346

A/N: sometimes I’ll use the most random things to separate my section 😭