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#baby will treaty
the-thursday · 3 months
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If y’all remember flat Will Treaty, i finally decided to give him the third dimension.
Also i forgot oakleaf but lets say sometimes rangers keep it hidden
(flat and flatter Treaty under the readmore)
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rangerangel · 2 years
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DAY 2: Trouble
In which Will finds himself once again climbing out of a second story window to escape the Ward for a midnight adventure. 
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briseise · 3 months
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hi honey!! how about cat + gem for the hermit swap ask gam? <3 love from tuna
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u want kitty gem? meow meow meow meow? =^. .^=
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nineteen-rats · 2 months
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tiny sketch dump
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jamisonwritestf2trash · 8 months
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Medic and Archimedes:
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skyloftian-nutcase · 3 days
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First Meetings (Hero’s Shadow backstory!)
The highlands were particularly chilly today as Link looked out into the dunes of Gerudo territory. It was strange how he could be so close to barren heat while also freezing his butt off.
Trilling his lips, the half-Sheikah warrior stretched lazily, gaze drifting from spot to the next. He had been transferred to guard duty along the Hyrulian-Gerudo border for his new assignment. It was his first time truly far from home, and it was honestly pretty thrilling. Link loved to see and learn new things, and the Gerudo Highlands were so vastly different from the lush, wet valleys and mountains of home. Kakariko Village was tucked away near Lake Hylia, and Link had spent most of his youth swimming and rushing to the large Cracked Mountain - legend said an earthquake had caused the large split along its center, and it held mystical treasures within its belly, but all Link had managed to do as a child was get stuck halfway through and give his elders a heart attack.
Either way, he loved exploring, and this place was all entirely new. The Highlands were visible from the capital on the Royal Plateau, but he’d never really known what to expect of any of it. Now that he was assigned here, he wanted nothing more than to explore every inch of the place.
But at the moment he was on duty, and so he stayed in his position.
It wasn’t as if the Gerudo were particularly hostile. They were not part of the kingdom and needed to be watched, and they were a warrior people, making them more threatening than others, but still… they hadn’t really caused problems for Hyrule, nor vice versa. There was definitely a wariness between the factions, though, and it created tension.
Movement caught Link’s eye, and he turned, wondering if maybe it was another lizard (he had already collected three), when he realized it was a person. Small, far in the distance, but someone nonetheless. Curious and a little wary, Link crept closer, hand slowly resting atop his katana, and then he got a closer look.
It was a Gerudo. A teenager, from the looks of it - maybe even around his age. She had twin scimitars, and she was practicing with them, slicing hydromelons with ease. Link watched her a little while, watched the way she moved so fluidly, the way her muscles rippled with each twist and turn, the way her hair reflected the sun far more than the sands did. He felt himself staring a little too long, his heart fluttering a little, and he stepped back, a little overwhelmed. The girl seemed to sense his scrutiny, stopping and looking around before glancing upward at him. Link swallowed, throat dry.
She—she was—she was beautiful.
Link heard a sandal on stone, and his adrenaline immediately spiked, every nerve on high alert, just in time to see a shadow cast over him. He looked up and saw a large figure seemingly falling out of the sky towards him, large mace in hand, and Link gasped a little, rolling out of the way as the weapon slammed into the earth.
Grabbing the hilt of his katana with his left hand, the thirteen-year-old immediately went into action. The initial removal from the scabbard was a wide slash, pushing the figure—a man who bore Gerudo traits (but weren’t all the Gerudo women? That’s what he’d heard)—back a little to avoid getting eviscerated. The sun shone behind the man, blinding Link a little, and he changed his position, breaking the kata in order to get a better view. It gave his opponent an opening, and he took a large step forward, swinging the mace horizontally. Link ducked, thankful for his small stature, and jabbed his blade directly forward. His enemy twisted to the side to dodge, and Link’s flank was wide open, giving the man an opportunity to do a one-handed swing with his weapon.
It hit true, slamming Link in the ribs.
The young warrior went flying, hitting the cliffside and falling to the ground, trying desperately to catch his breath. He heard the person walk towards him, and then heard under his breath, in a bemused tone, “A child?”
Link gasped life back into himself, ignoring how his ribs protested, and he sprang back to his feet, gripping his blade with both hands as he did another sweeping cut to drive his enemy back. He jerked a little at the end of the fluid motion, hissing in pain. His ribs were definitely broken.
Did he have a fairy? An elixir? He didn’t remember packing anything, but—
Link’s eyes widened as the man strode forward purposefully, both hands around the leather handle of the enormous mace, and he swept it right where Link’s head was. Clapping his hands together, the teenager channeled his magic, feeling the air sucked out of his lungs as he disappeared before the weapon could land a hit.
Ganondorf stared, blinking at the blank space where the child had just been. Despite being caught off guard by the Hylian’s age, he was still armed and he’d still been watching his daughter, which merited a swift response. The Gerudo king looked around a moment, confused, before hearing clothes fluttering. He turned around wildly, still seeing nothing, and then the sun reflected off something bright just above him, and he looked up and—
The child was about to stab him in the head.
Hissing, Ganondorf pushed hard with his right leg, jerking his body to the side just in time for the Hylian to slice his blade across his shoulder and part of his chest. Ganondorf bit back a yell, his blood pumping faster than it had in ages, and when he’d finished dodging, he’d almost had to laugh.
He didn’t know how this child was actually managing to put up a fight, but this was actually kind of invigorating. The boy had even landed a blow!
Ganondorf knew he’d won, though, based on how the boy struggled to breathe, so he paused before continuing the fight. “Who are you, child?”
The boy immediately hesitated, clearly caught off guard by his change in tone, and he stood hesitantly in a ready stance. “My name is Link.”
“Link,” Ganondorf repeated, humming and putting the mace on a strap on his back. The Hylian hesitated, red eyes curious and hopeful and far too trusting. In an instant, Ganondorf pulled out his spear, slamming the boy’s abdomen with the blunt end. The child gasped, falling to his back, and the fight was over. Ganondorf approached him slowly, watching his chest heave as he struggled to breathe. He pulled out a red potion, plopping it on the ground next to the boy, and dug the sharp end of his spear into the earth beside the child’s light blonde hair. “Don’t watch my daughter again.”
With that, the Gerudo king walked away, wondering what in the world Hyrule Kingdom was doing sending children to its borders anyway. But he had to admit… he was impressed by the boy’s fighting prowess.
Link grimaced, turning enough to grab the potion and chug it, wondering what in the world just happened.
Despite reporting the incident to his superiors, not much was really done. Apparently, there was concern that this was the actual King of the Gerudo himself, and no one would dare cause problems by claiming the king had attacked a lowly Hyrulian guard. Link wasn’t important enough to merit a war. He also felt immensely guilty he’d even managed to bring about any concern for one.
Sighing, the teenager resumed his post the next day, a little more wary and more than a little put out.
When he heard a foot scuff on stone, he immediately drew his blade, wondering what kind of insanity he was going to deal with now.
Instead, he saw the girl he recognized from yesterday, carrying a basket and looking apologetic.
“Hey,” she said softly, holding her hands up to appease him. “I don’t mean any harm.”
“This is the Hyrule border,” Link warned, not moving.
“Yeah. I know.” The teenager replied dully, as if it were obvious. Well… it was, but still. What else was he going to say?
“That means you can’t be here,” he explained, though there was less force in his voice.
“Yeah, yeah,” the girl replied dismissively. “Technically I can’t cross the line. That’s somewhere between you and me. I’m still in Gerudo territory.”
Link lowered his sword, growing confused. “Yeah, but… what do you want?”
“I wanted to say sorry,” the girl replied, lowering her arms and gripping the basket with both hands. “My dad is… overly protective. But… yeah. You want food?”
Link blinked. Blinked again. “Uh… sure?”
The girl smiled, trotting over and grabbing a stick. She traced a line in the dry earth, easily creating a division between them. “There. There’s the border. I won’t cross this line. But we can have a picnic in the meantime.”
Link stared at her, then at the line, then back at her. And then he giggled. “A picnic sounds nice.”
The two sat across from each other, the center of the basket placed directly over the line, and slowly they started to eat and chat. And if they stayed there for hours until the sun started to set, neither really commented on it.
And if they saw each other the next day for another picnic, neither complained.
And if a King and Queen of the Gerudo stood exasperatedly at the bottom of the cliff the tenth time it happened, neither of them noticed.
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iwanttobepersephone · 6 months
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Ok but hear me out
Will getting hurt on a mission, not bad enough to need immediate or even complicated medical attention, but bad enough that he can't fight
So, Halt finishes off who/whatever they were fighting pretty quickly and pretty much runs over to help him
And as he's cleaning and bandaging Wills wounds for him (they were at such an angle that Will couldn't properly do it himself) Halt kept muttering "Mo buachaill leanbh" to himself
(because he refuses to consciously admit that he views Will as a son, but he still really cares for him and defaults to speaking in Hibernian to hide that fact)
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that-one-enby-ranger · 8 months
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*Cassandra holding their baby* Halt: Oh God, I can’t believe one of us actually has one of these. Will: I know, I still am one of these.
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spotsupstuff · 8 months
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What was boreas first interaction with zephyr like?
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"Hopefully that will work..."
swift, to say the least
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olivers-cocoapuffs · 11 months
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04: Delight
Will hikes a babbling Maddie up further on his hip, smiling softly. Maddie reaches a chubby hand up to close in a fist around a lock of Will’s hair, tugging on it.
“Ah, ah, Maddie let go.” Wills tells her as sternly as he can manage (which isn’t very stern at all)
Maddie smiles and pulls on it again, giggling. Will gently unclenches her fist and moves his hair out of her grasp.
Will sets her down on the counter for a moment to tie his hair back in a short pony tail and Maddie stares at him in betrayal.
Her face screws up as she wails and Will heaves a sigh before picking her up again. He tries gently rocking her and then offering her a bottle, but nothing works.
He tugs a strand of hair out of his ponytail and dangles it in front of Maddie, allowing her to grab it. She instantly calms down and her face lights up in delight as she squeezes.
Despite himself, Will chuckles.
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backpackingspace · 2 years
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Consider the fact that obi wan was probably at some point a leash kid
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divinebunni · 1 year
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my simple pleasures ~
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thebleedingeffect · 2 years
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GOD I want to either talk about Link being selective mute but actually talking when he's within the lost forest OR talk about the emperor philza adopting techno or aka writing the adoption papers in blood. The autism monster is attacking me help girl
#im twirling the techno idea in my brain rn like HMMMMMM..... im lowkey a really big fan of techno being a prince but also an only child#the king now actually isnt his father as his og parents were killed in a past war shortly after techno was born#the king was the successor since obviously techno cant rule cause he's a Baby!! but i was also thinking of setting something up where-#techno is the blood gods vessel and doesnt really trust himself or others in fact due to the fact theres been attempted assassinations#whether those have been by other kingdoms or the king? :) probably a mixture tbh. as the king both wants him dead but also as a tool#the first meeting is actually between philza and techno! as techno doesnt know hes the emperor due to being sheltered-#and philza doesnt know hes the prince for similar reasons and he sure doesnt look like the 'blood gods vessel'#but philza takes an instant liking to this seemingly abandoned kid and techno gets that affection and attention hes starved for tbh#their first meeting is actually very very cute! and then it goes dark again when philza learns hes the prince but hes no longer-#the blood gods vessel in his eyes. he's techno. his child that hes basically already claimed and philza gives the king an offer#he will sign a peace and allyship treaty with the king that moment. theyll basically be untouchable with the antarctic empire behind them#but he must give up one thing. he must give him techno. and the king refuses as he doesnt want to give up such a powerful tool#and the king is so prideful that he believes he can defeat the antarctic empire and keep techno as well#well uh. another image i have in mind is wilbur straight up assassinating the king <3
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bat-boys · 23 days
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domestic bliss
pairing: Azriel x fem reader
word count: 4.5k words
warning: suggestive language but no actual smut. just lots and lots of fluff!
summary: a series of scenes that give an insight into the domestic bliss you had built with your mate
a/n: oh my goshhh thank you so much for all the love and so sorry I've been a bit MIA. I'm in the middle of a couple of wips that I'm struggling to piece together so wanted to give you something quick whilst I get my act together. I hope you enjoy it loves 🫶🏻
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Part 2
A soft breeze and warm sunlight trickled into the room through the open floor-to-ceiling doors leading out to your room's balcony. The sounds of the birds chirping outside and the busy city below created a peaceful atmosphere that soothed your soul as you lay stretched out on your bed, book in hand.
A noise akin to a purr escaped the lips of the fae male sprawled across your body, head resting gently on your stomach, as you combed your fingers through his luxurious midnight black curls. Your lips tilted up in an affectionate smile as you continued to soak up the words on your page. As you gently scraped your fingernails along his scalp, another deep groan elicited, leaving you giggling and your toes curling. 
Sundays like this were your favourite. Slow, lazy and steady. Filled with quiet moments of simplicity. When Azriel wasn't busy off doing god knows what, god knows where, and you didn't have to attend any stuffy meetings or pour over lengthy negotiations and treaties as the emissary of the Night Court. When your mate could spend the day with you lounging in bed, just enjoying each other's presence. 
"Why did you stop?" Az grumbled as you lifted your hand away from his head. 
"I was turning the page, dummy." You chuckled at him. 
"Well, hurry up."
"Big Illyrian baby," you cooed, a soft yelp leaving your lips when you felt Azriel gently bite down on the stretch of bare skin he was resting on. A satisfied sound left his lips—and caused your eyes to roll—when he felt your fingers back in his hair. 
You, however, couldn't help the pulse of love and affection you sent down the bond when the next time you had to turn the page, one of his shadows appeared to do it for you.
Another chapter of your book was read before he spoke again, dispersing the soft, comfortable silence that had fallen between you. You had been convinced he had fallen asleep as you played with his hair. 
"When do you go to the Court of Nightmares?" He mumbled against your skin, his lips pursing to kiss your hip quickly. 
"Tomorrow." You sighed. It was your least favourite job as the official emissary, the one you dreaded doing every couple of weeks. Like Mor, you had been born under that particular mountain, crafted in its dark shadows, a dreamer bred to be a nightmare. It had taken years of wit and cunning to get to a position to meet the High Lord, years of barely surviving until you could petition him for a job—anything to get out of there. 
"Do you want me to come with you?" He lifted his head slightly, his hazel eyes meeting yours. Silver nearly lined your eyes as you took in his soft, gentle expression. Azriel understood just how much going there took out of you. He knew that you would return home hollow and would require the rest of the night to be cooped up in bed with his arms around you. 
He also recognised that you could absolutely do it alone. That you didn't need him beside you. You were strong enough to face your past head-on and would leave whatever meeting you were attending with Rhys and Feyre with the winning cards in your hand. But that didn't stop him from offering a comforting hand to hold throughout your time there. 
"Please." You whispered. His lips stretched into a gentle smile as he lifted his body off you to scoot up the bed and press his lips to yours in a loving kiss. 
"Of course, my love." And you knew that was that. No explanations, no words needed to be exchanged with Rhys. When it was time to travel to the Court of Nightmares, you would find your mate beside you, a reassuring hand in your own as he stood quietly beside you. 
Azriel could see the tumultuous thoughts flitting across your brain, so he did the only thing he could. He bent down once again to press his lips to yours, pouring as much love and affection as he could down that beautiful, gleaming bond you shared. 
Kissing Az never got boring, even after all these years together. He captured your bottom lip in his plush, slightly chapped lips, tugging slightly to elicit a soft groan from you, which he swallowed with his mouth. You lifted your arms to circle his neck, gently playing with the soft hairs there - your book long discarded and falling to the floor. He sighed against you as he wrapped his arms around your bare torso, pulling your chest flush against his as he deepened the kiss into something fiery that had a slow, dull ache beginning between your legs. 
You could feel him against your inner thigh and smirked against his lips as you reached a finger towards his impressive wings and carefully dragged a fingernail along the underside of his right wing where they met his back, a spot you had discovered many years ago. A primal part of you stretched out in satisfaction as you felt Azriel shudder against you at the touch. 
"So eager to go again, my love?" He teased, alluding to the several times he had already taken you that day as he gently nipped your skin before torturously slowly pressing open-mouthed, hot kisses along your jaw and down the column of your neck.
"Distract me, Az." You breathed, tipping your head back to expose even more of your delicate neck to him, groaning when you felt his canines skimming along your skin. 
"With pleasure, sweetheart."
The noise was almost deafening, the room packed to the brim with politicians, courtiers, nobility and High Lords and their entourages. It was enough to overwhelm anyone, but Azriel watched from the edge of the room as you dazzled person after person, drifting from one group of fae to the next, completely and totally in your element. 
You enjoyed nights like these when you got to flex the skills you had built up as an emissary to the Night Court, speaking to old friends, charming acquittances, and building friendships with those you had yet to meet. The beautiful deep black gown you wore also helped. 
Azriel watched as you stood amongst courtiers from the Winter Court, catching up with some of the gossip from one of your allies. A flute of champagne dangled from your fingers; half drank as you tipped your head back to laugh at something one of your friends had said. The dress you wore tonight was some torture explicitly designed for him. It was sleeveless, showing off the delicate curves of your shoulders and décolletage, the high swell of your breasts threatening to spill over the top of your dress every time you drew breath. The slit that every now and then gave Azriel the view of the smooth curve of your leg was maddening. But what was true torture was the choker around your neck, encrusted with gems the same colour as his siphons—a reminder of where his hands had been last night. 
He had almost sent a mental note to Rhys that the pair of you wouldn't be attending the party tonight when you had emerged from your bathroom and asked him to zip you up—favouring the idea of ravishing you right there and then. It was only the thought of watching you so expertly work the room, charming everyone so thoroughly, but knowing that only he had the privilege to take you home, that had him attending tonight.
As if you could hear his thoughts, your eyes drifted from the fae before you to lock eyes with your mate across the room. Matching smirks danced on your lips as he nodded at you, and you nodded back - an inside joke between the two of you started on that first official party you had been forced to attend when the mating bond was still so new. 
A fire built in your body, beginning in your stomach and dipped lower and lower as you watched him push off the wall he had been leaning on and stalk towards you. He never once dropped eye contact, his shadows twirling before him and telling him where to step, creating a direct path to you. 
You tracked him across the room, your skin burning from his gaze. When he stopped just in front of you, his shadows dispersed to dance among your skirts and play with the hair that cascaded down your back. 
"Emissary." He greeted, bending his body into a tight bow whilst that playful smirk danced on his lips. 
"Shadowsinger." You purred. 
"Rhys has asked to see you urgently." The desire swirling in his hazel eyes made the grin on your lips widen as your stomach dipped in anticipation. 
"Excuse me." You politely bowed your head to the people you previously held court with, dropping your now empty glass on a nearby table as you followed Azriel out of the room. 
Your heels clacked on the beautifully tiled floor as you closed the distance between you and Azriel. You were still walking behind him but close enough to brush your hand against his. He turned his head slightly to smirk at you, and you felt his hand beside you curl and unfurl as he resisted the urge to touch you in front of everyone. 
After moments of strutting through the House of Wind, you reached a part of the house away from the centre of the party, with fewer and fewer people milling around. It was only then that, with lightning-fast speed, Azriel's hand whipped out to grab yours and pull you into a shadowy alcove. 
With firm hands, he pushed you against the wall, his shadows swirling to hide you from prying eyes, as one of Azriel's hands dropped to your hips and the other reached up to grip your neck. You groaned in delight at the feeling of his hands on you, the messy, feverish kisses he was now peppering along the bare skin of your neck, shoulder and collarbones. 
"Az." You moaned as you felt his canines drag along that sensitive junction where your neck met your shoulder, his tongue following to soothe the slight sting. 
"Fuck Y/N." He groaned into your skin, relishing in the way you tasted - so sweet. Even after years of being together, he would never get tired of tasting you, of his lips and tongue on your flesh, on your lips and in between your thighs. 
"What if we get caught?" You managed to say, your chest heaving as you breathed heavily, hands gripping Azriel's broad shoulders tightly. 
"That's never stopped you before, love." He teased as he ran his lips across the swell of your breasts, his touch feather-light, causing a shiver to run down your body and your eyes to roll to the back of your head.
The hand that was holding your hips in his grasp moved to slip under the slit of your dress, skimming down the curve of your leg, tracing over your knee and down your calf before wrapping around your thigh to lift it and hook it over his hips.
"You were torturing me out there, Princess." His voice had become deep and husky, and he elicited a groan from your lips as he was able to press his hips into yours with the new angle. Your body was set alight as you felt his straining erection through the material of his pants as he pushed into you. 
"Looking delicious in that dress for everyone to see." His words caused molten lava to pool in your stomach, the throbbing at the apex of your thighs to become incessant, and the wetness gathering there began to drip down your thigh. 
Anticipation curled in your stomach as you felt Azriel's hand travel from your thigh to your hip, skimming so lightly it was pure torture down your bikini line before reaching your swollen and slick sex - freezing when he realised he had unrestricted access.
"You've got to be kidding me, no underwear? Fuck you're killing me love." He groaned against your neck, roughly nipping at your jaw and causing a moan of your own to slip past your lips.
"All for you, Az." You whispered, throwing your head back against the solid wall behind you as he traced your slit, gathering the wetness pooling there.
"There they are." Rhys's unbothered drawl broke through the hazy atmosphere you were creating in your shadowy alcove, shattering the moment and causing you both to freeze. 
"I knew those lovebirds hadn't gone far." Cassain chuckled from beside Rhys. You knew Azriel's shadows were keeping you covered, that they couldn't see anything and could only recognise you both because they knew how his shadows felt and what they looked like to the untrained eye. 
"Piss off, Cass." Azriel snarled as he slowly extracted himself from you, carefully dropping your leg and trying to straighten your dress. 
"Someone's cranky," Cassain teased, and you rolled your eyes as you watched Azriel's face turn into a murderous expression. Azriel was usually so calm and collected, not easy to rattle at all, except when it came to you. 
"You know not to interrupt a male and his mate." You sighed as you gripped the front of the dress and tried to rearrange it over your chest. You noted the still-hungry look in Azriel's eyes as he watched your every move. A promise in his gaze that told you this wasn't over. 
"If you wanted to enjoy each other's company in the hallway, that's totally up to you; we get it - looking beautiful as ever Y/N -," Rhys added as Azriel dropped his shadows once you looked presentable, "but we're doing a debrief in my office, and then you're all done for the night so you can move this to your bedroom if you wish…"
"We'll be there in 5 minutes," Azriel managed to grind out, his eyes still on yours, desperately trying to calm down. 
"Is that all he lasts?" Azriel's eyes flared, and you knew Cassain had overstepped. You gave them both an eye roll, territorial fae bullshit. 
"Cass," you warned as you heard your best friend chuckle at the snarl that ripped out of Azriel's mouth as he sauntered back down the hallway. 
Azriel padded through the quiet hallway of the home he shared with you. His feet were cool as they touched the dark wood floor, a nice contrast to the heat pushing up against the windows from the summer sun outside. His shadows flitted and danced around him as they coaxed him to follow them, to follow them to her. His lips curled up in amusement at their behaviour as he neared the kitchen, where he could hear you humming and the soft sounds of you bustling around the kitchen. 
He rounded the corner to lean on the doorframe; strong arms crossed over his bare chest as he took in the scene before him. His heart almost stopped dead at the sight of you standing at the large island in the middle of the room, mixing bowl in front of you and wooden spoon in hand, your glorious hair pulled half up into a messy bun tied at the back of your head - tendrils falling around your face and gleaming in the sun -, wearing nothing but one of his shirts. 
A deep and primal part of him purred at the sight of you in his clothes, knowing that it was unlikely you had anything under that soft cotton. The fit was incredibly baggy on you, the hemline falling to your mid-thigh, the collar threatening to slip down your shoulder, and the sleeves so long you had had to roll them up. He delighted in being taller than you, bigger than you. A small part of him always soared when he bundled you up in his arms, being able to protect you with just his body. He knew, more than anyone, that you could handle yourself. In a tight situation, you could take down as many enemies as he could. But there was something so delightful about your body being so much smaller than his. 
A soft melody slipped past your lips, and Azriel joined in as he pushed off the doorframe. Unable to contain the need to touch you any longer, he approached you. You jolted slightly at the feeling of his large, warm hands on your hips, and a soft yelp left your lips when you felt Azriel bury his head in your hair and press a chaste kiss to the skin of your neck.
"Morning, love," Azriel mumbled into your hair, breathing in your intoxicating scent. 
"More like afternoon, babe; we spent all morning in bed!" you joked as you turned back to the task at hand.
"And whose fault is that." Azriel teased as he pulled away from your neck to reach around and gently nip at your earlobe, which sent a lick of fire straight to the apex of your thighs.
"Yours." You shot back, angling your head slightly to look at your mate.
"Hmm, I'm not so sure about that," he smirked, his beautiful hazel eyes dancing with mischief and desire as he dipped his head to press your lips in a searing kiss. Kissing Azriel was like this: all or nothing. Either his kisses were chaste, quick things meant to convey a simple hi or, more often than not, a quick acknowledgement of you during conversations or as you passed each other in corridors or hallways. His other types of kisses were slow, leisurely and utterly torturous, and he poured every ounce of love he had for you into them. His lips moved lazily with yours, licking across the seam of your lips and begging for entrance before licking into your mouth - your knees almost buckling at the intoxicating sensation and the fire burning in your body. He knew what he was doing, as was evident when he pulled away with a smirk on his lips, "what are you making?"
He grinned when he watched your eyes drift back into focus, your body slamming down to reality after a kiss that was so heady but given so casually. 
"A lemon drizzle cake." You replied somewhat breathlessly, which made him chuckle, and you felt his chest rumble on your back.
"My favourite." He said as he returned to his spot behind you and wrapped his arms around your torso, bringing your back flush to his chest as you continued baking. 
"I know, love." You softly spoke as you began to stir the mixture before you. Judging by the smile in your voice, he knew you were thinking of that moment a handful of years ago when you had both accepted the mating bond with a lemon drizzle cake.
It had been your first time to the Court of Nightmares since you had escaped and been made part of the Night Court. You had been secretly dreading it, knowing that your usual skill set as emissary would all fall apart in that place when your eyes would land on your family and those familiar snarling faces. And it had. Everything had gone to shit the moment your family had spotted you beside Rhys' throne and had smelt that mating bond on you. It had started with shouting and had escalated to your family barging their way up to the throne and threatening to gut you for turning into a whore. 
Rhys had pulled rank and ordered everyone to leave, and you had been quickly winnowed to the safety of the townhouse, where everyone had rallied around you and tried to distract you. Rhys and Azriel had gone back to calm the situation and assess the aftermath. You had been cooped up in the arms of Cassain for the evening, a loving and supportive brother figure you had never had before. But deep down, you had wanted only one pair of arms around you to soothe you and remind you that your family do not dictate who you are. 
Everyone had eventually retreated to bed, but you had stayed, needing to see him, knowing he would return at some god-forsaken hour. He had found you then when he winnowed to appear in the living room of the townhouse, curled up on a sofa in front of the fire with a book in your hand. At his appearance, you slowly put the book down to look at him. 
The bond was newly snapped in place, but he could feel your emotions faintly and was so overwhelmed by the fact that you had stayed up for him that all he could think to say was, "Good book?"
He had watched fascinated as your lips curled into a soft smile, the first since the incident so many hours ago. "Couldn't put it down." 
He chuckled lowly but didn't move from his spot as you slipped a bookmark into the page and popped it beside you, swinging your legs off the sofa to sit facing him. 
"Az, I think we need to talk." He watched as you outstretched your hand, gesturing for him to come and sit with him. 
His heart had sunk as he had walked over to you, joining you on the sofa. He knew you needed to talk about the mating bond and how you moved forward—you had been friends for so long, and he had been yearning for you since the first day he met you. And now he was terrified that you were about to reject the bond, reject him, and he was going to lose the woman he loved and the friendship he cherished with you all in one go. 
"Y/N, you need to do the right thing for you - please don't accept something because you feel bad for me. We can work it out. I can perhaps get Rhys to station me in the Illyrian mountains so you can stay here, and I-"
"Respectfully, what the hell are you talking about, Az?" You stared, baffled, at the male before you as he rambled on. He couldn't look at you, and his expression conveyed such sadness.
"The logistics of you rejecting the bond—that's what you want to talk about, isn't it?" A bark of laughter left your lips, shocking him and causing him to snap his head up to look at you in confusion. 
"Oh Az, no honey, that's not what I wanted to talk about," you softly said as you held one of his beautiful, scarred hands in one of yours and brought the other to cup his cheek. You watched, fascinated, as he internally debated whether to lean into your touch, "Stay here a second; I'll be back."
He watched, confused, as you flashed him a warm, comforting smile before dashing off the sofa and disappearing into the hallway outside the living room. The wait may have been seconds, minutes at most, but it felt like hours to Azriel. His heart had stopped dead when you returned, a dish in your hand in which a delicately decorated cake sat atop it. He watched keenly as you walked back to him, smiling sheepishly and nervously, and sat back beside him on the sofa. 
"This is for you. I want to accept the mating bond." Those words, spoken so softly in the dead of night, in a house that had seen so much joy and heartache before, were enough to set Azriel alight. He had no words to describe the feeling that was coursing through him as he looked between you and the cake you held out towards him.
His hands moved on their own accord as he took the dish from you, noticing the sugar icing that had been meticulously drizzled onto the soft sponge and the sweet little decorative flower you had piped into the centre. Just from looking at it, he could tell you had baked this cake and poured every ounce of feeling into it, and he felt himself getting choked up at the thought. 
"Are you sure?" He whispered, and the vulnerable look on that face was enough to break your heart. 
"Yes. I have loved you for years, Az and the snapping of the bond in place made it seem as if the Mother and the Cauldron had finally listened to all those prayers I sent them. I baked this earlier to give it to you after we had returned from a successful meeting at the Court of Nightmares," his lips quirked ever so slightly at the sarcasm that dripped from your voice, "it may not be the moment I intended; but it's still perfect anyway. It's a larger version of those lemon sponges you love from that bakery we found last year. The owner gave me the recipe. I want you, Azriel."
Azriel had given up on finding his mate, resigned to always wondering. When you had crash-landed into his life a handful of years ago, he had silently hoped it would be you, and when he had tripped and fallen head-first in love with you, he had begun to beg that the mating bond would snap one day. So many years of yearning for you, unaware that you felt the same, that you were begging for it to be him as well. So many wasted years. And when the mating bond had finally snapped, when you had returned from a month-long summit at the Day Court and taken one look at him, he had almost fallen to his knees then and there. 
He had finally found you, and you wanted him back. Words would come to him later, spoken against the soft sheets of your bed, in between feverish kisses and in the afterglow of what was to come, so for now, he held your gaze as he lifted the small slice you had cut for him and took a bite. 
"Az, baby. I need to put the cake in the oven." Your words brought him out of the daydream he had been enjoying and back to the present moment. He chuckled and kissed your temple before unwinding from your body and taking a step back so you could move to put the cake tin in your hands and into the oven. 
He leaned back against the counter as he watched you carefully manoeuvre it inside before triumphantly shutting the oven door and turning back to him with a satisfied smile. 
"Come here." He held out his hand, a gesture so similar to the one you had given him all those years ago that a smile danced on both of your faces. You let him pull you against his chest, one of his hands falling to your hips and the other coming up to cup your cheek, his thumb gently brushing some flour that had somehow made its way to your face.
"Happy 10-year anniversary, love." You whispered into the gentle silence, and the shadowsinger gave you a beautiful smile. 
"Happy 10 year anniversary, sweetheart." He whispered back as he closed the distance and gently pressed his lips to yours in a loving kiss that held 10 years of the most beautiful memories.  
Read Part 2 here!
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Text
DJANGO
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Choi San x fem reader x Jung Wooyoung (heavy hints at ot8)
a/n: nobody talk to me nobody touch me nobody look at me i'm loosing my mind over this comeback you don't even understand
"Ain't nobody mess with Django, call me Django." -ATEEZ
✫彡wordcount: 5.5k (sorry?!?)
(>ᴗ•) genre: smut w/plot
ಠ_ಠwarnings/content: violence and injuries, dystopian/lore universe, lots of cussing, angst, poly relationship, brief mention of drinking as coping, extreme pda LMAO, woo is a bit of a little shit in the first half, dry humping, making out(lots of it), also lots of pet names, multiple rounds, threesome, light choking&degrading, snowballing, oral, boobjob, dp, overstim, teasing, orgasm control, praise kink teehee, dom san/sub woo/switch-sub reader, m x m, unprotected( don't do that🗣️), NOT EDITED
taglist: @calicanbeevil @pansies-garden @kissezfornamjoon @wisejudgedragonhairdo
MATURE UNDER CUT MDNI
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The van shook as another vehicle passed, making San groan as you fell down onto him.
"I'm sorry, Baby," you cooed softly, kissing the bruise on his collarbone that you had unintentionally fallen onto. The soaked rag that you cleaned him with was handed back to you from its fallen place on the shag carpet by Wooyoung with a soft laugh.
"You baby him too much, he's a big boy," he claps his hand onto his shoulder, making him groan again- glaring at the younger man, "right, Champ?"
"I'll beat your ass, Woo."
"Oh, I bet you will, you beat up that scrawny little guy too!" He cackles, clapping and leaning away as San swipes at him tiredly.
"He was faster than I expected!"
"You two knock it off," you sigh exasperatedly as you wipe the grime from his swollen pec, rolling your eyes at your boyfriends bickering. Being stuck in such a small space had taken a toll on the three of yours relationship- especially the two men. They were at each other throats more often than not-even it was playfully. "I'll blow our cover just to tell Hongjoong."
"You wouldn't..." Wooyoung eyes you suspiciously as you smirk. "You wouldn't!"
"I will if you two don't give me a second of peace." You cock your brow at him, tossing the rag into the pile that is your dirty laundry, silently cursing yourself for choosing to hide out with them instead of with Yunho and Jongho in their shop. They even had a cool talking bird.
You place a gentle kiss to Sans eye, a healing bruise almost faded under your lips. "Stop getting hit in the face, yeah?"
"Yeah, I'll politely tell my opponents that my girlfriend likes her boys pretty~" he rolls his eyes and whines as your body heat leaves his sore body.
"So what if I do, pretty boys happen to be my type!" You shrug and crawl off of the spent man, over to the other side and into Wooyoungs lap.
He smirks at his boyfriend cockily as you rest your head on his shoulder, "that's why she's cuddling me right n-ow!" His smirk turns to a pout as you flick his chest.
"Can you two manage a peace treaty while I get some shut eye? It's four hours drive to the next town and it's my turn to drive in the morning."
"Of course, Darling." They chime together, silently scowling at one another but keeping quiet as you close your eyes.
--
     "Wakey, wakey," you shake the buff man softly, safely parked in the back alley of the abandoned building. Wooyoung stood just outside of the open van doors, abs on display as he changed into a better looking shirt.
      "Yah, wake up!"
   You glare at him as he startles San awake, who holds you close protectively in his delirium, still scared of the run in you had experienced with HalaTeez months ago. No matter how much he swears to the lot of you that he doesn't feel guilty, the way his eyes sadden when he focuses on the scar over your left brow for too long gives it away. Hala-San, as you call him to real-Sans dismay, had tricked you all too well and after that... you couldn't look at the real, loving, caring San for weeks. You had to split off with Mingi and frequented a bar, drinking away any memory of Hala-Sans torment until Hongjoong found you and picked up the pieces when the bottle ran empty.
     "You dick," San rasps as he rubs your sides, his gentle touch a contrast to the way he gives his cackling boyfriend the stink eye.
    "Rise and shine, Sannie~" he teases, buttoning up his shirt and soothing his long hair down, "time to get your ass whopped again."
     "Oh, like you'd do any better! You'd be demolished!"
     You let out a sigh and slide out of the van, soothing your dress- which in reality is Jongho's shirt with a belt around your waist. "I'll be signing in." You speak shortly before wondering off, leaving them fighting more than ever over how they upset you.
    San insists it's all Wooyoungs fault for being such a whiny shit.
    Wooyoung is adamant that San is at fault for hogging all of your attention.
     They go back and forth for a while until a Strickland patrol vechile speeds by, spooking the both of them into the building.
     Wooyoung immediately wraps his arms around your waist as they find you bent over signing Sans pseudonym, DJANGO, into the fighting brackets. San is busy eyeing everyone around you, both in suspicion of Halateez and Strickland and simply to scope out his potential competition.
     "Entry fee is three k," the woman on the other side of the pop-up table looks as if she's ready to kick your trio out in a single breath when you don't provide the money, eyeing up Sans messy tank top and your days old makeup with distain.
    "That's it?" You pout, tutting your tongue as you turn away from the rude woman, sighing dramatically as you dig into Wooyoungs pockets, grabbing hold of multiple tightly rolled wads of money.
    Both of them smirk at your antics, so clearly eager to prove this stranger wrong about her preconceived notions about you and your lovers as you count the wads, dropping a few down before skipping past her with a wave.
      The crowded arena does nothing for Sans anxiety, his eyes scanning at a million miles an hour as he keeps a possessive hand on the small of your back. Wooyoung has similar feelings as he drapes his arm over your shoulders in a way that clearly shouts, 'don't touch' to anyone who looks your way. You feel much safer on the other hand, both of your boyfriends touching you at once for the first time in what feels like ages, both ready to toss themselves infront of danger if it presents itself.
You all squeeze your way to the front, right up to the edge of the ring, where a fight is already taking place, one of the men nearly teasing the other with the way he bounces around on his tip-toes, not letting the other get a single touch in.
"She said not many fighters showed up," you practically have to yell for the men to hear you, "Strickland cracking down again!" You explain loudly, rubbing Sans lower back in an attempt to comfort his nerves as he stretches his wrists. Wooyoung has split off to make bets with other players, making sure to stick out like a sore thumb with his flashy shirt. "Might have to find a new income soon if they don't back off!"
He sighs, rolling his head back and stretching his neck out, letting you admire the freckles on his skin that he knows you love.
As the quick moving fighter finally wears out his opponent, he gets sloppy, and he starts getting hits in. You slide behind San and hide your face in his back, wrapping your arms around his waist and stroking his stomach softly. "I hate that you have to do this!"
He holds his hands over your own and rubs his thumbs over your skin, watching the man who will clearly be his opponent wailing on the other man.
"Got nine grand riding on you tonight, Babe," Wooyoung slides back into the conversation, cupping the back of Sans neck.
Although they had their on and off moments, he would always be in tune to his emotions and try to calm him. And trying to keep the peace was even more worth it when you were around. Usually, they had Yeosang as a voice of reason but he was off with Seonghwa doing God-knows what in preparation for your next mission.
Being apart was straining and stressful for every last one of you. But groups larger than three were banned by Hongjoong after four of you had caught Halateez's attention a few months back. He didn't want to risk it again and he certainly didn't want to risk a group of nine most wanted outlaws being together. The combined reward for your captures was the largest amount of money you had ever read. You weren't sure how to even pronounce it.
It was almost an entire year of being in hiding.
You didn't know how much more you could take.
    "- DJANGO!!" The name catches your attention over the blaring speaker. How was he up so early? You peek around San and see the fast man catching his breath in the opposite corner. Blood being wiped up and a limp body being carried out.
     "We can always find a new way to get money," you scream to San as he rolls out his stiff shoulders, whining as Wooyoung pulls you away gently. "Seriously, Sannie!"
    "He'll be okay, Darling," Wooyoungs chaste kiss to your head does nothing to calm your raging nerves as San bends down and slides into the ring. You pull away in a hurry and hop up on the ledge, grabbing his top over the ropes.
      "Forgot something?" You lean your torso over and immediately take San into a heated kiss, his calloused hands cupping your face firmly and pulling you close. People all around whistle and call loudly, a blush creeping up Wooyoung neck as he watches your lips meld together.
It been almost a year on the run. Almost five months since any of the three of you have touched one another in an intimate, primal way.
He doesn't know how much longer he can take it. When you crawled into his lap earlier he nearly took you right there.
You always do something after a needy kiss that makes every single one of them feral.
You lick up Sans lips to his cheekbone and moan.
   People start nearly howling, and his opponent looks antsy.
"Fuck him up, Baby," you cup his chin in your hand as you block out the world around you for a moment and take one last good look at him before you know you'll go away during his fights. You can't bring yourself to watch no matter how long he's been fighting. But that doesn't mean you won't hype him up while you can.
      You slap his shoulder softly, making sure to make it look harder than it was in reality before giving his fist a gentle kiss.
     "Fuck him up," you repeated before hopping down.
--
The van door opening makes your head snap, setting away the headphones that play Yeosangs violin melody.
"Hey, how'd ev-"
San jumps on you before you can finish greeting them properly, kissing you deeply and feeling you up like it's the first time he's ever touched you. The clotted blood on his lip doesn't discourage either of you, the pain only stirs him on as Wooyoung climbs in and slams the doors shut behind him.
The dull thud of the duffel bag he drops makes you look over, San letting you breath and nipping at your neck and jaw instead. "Holy shit, Baby, you won?!"
"Fuck yeah, I did, Beautiful," he moans breathlessly, holding himself up above you to speak with a sultry purr, "let me spoil you." He looks over to Wooyoung lustfully. "Both. Let me spoil you both."
Wooyoung smiles at him. Genuinely. For the first time in weeks.
    If there's one thing that makes him weak it's being spoiled by his lovers. So when San lifts you up and settles you in his lap and climbs into the drivers seat, he doesn't complain: he simply dives into your lips like a man starved.
     And he is, lips suctioned onto yours so deeply and passionately that neither of you notice as the van lurches to life and begins speeding away. You fall to the floor ontop of him and hold him tightly. Like he's an illusion that will disappear like smoke if you let go.
     He body feels so right on yours. Clinged together on the shag floor. Melting together. The outside world and all of its problems fading away as his hands wander your body.
       How you've managed to keep your hands off one another for this long is a world's greatest mystery.
       "Fuck," he moans as you lap at his lips, his hands sliding up the edge of your dress and cupping the round of your ass. "Fuck, Princess, please," he whines.
       You can hear the smirk in the way San chuckles from the front seat, but it doesn't stop him from speeding up. He loves how whiney Wooyoung gets just as much as you do.
     You clumsily undo his bottoms and pull them down just enough to press your heat to his growing bulge. The thin layers of cloth separating you doesn't stop the feral groan that he lets out, holding your hips with a bruising force as he grinds up into you. If anything, the soft fabric pressing into your clit with each of his uncoordinated thrusts makes it feel more euphoric.
     "Oh, God~"
    The soft moans you let out have Wooyoung rock hard and San palming himself. "Ffffuck, Baby," you groan, hugging his neck tightly as his hips buck below you.
      Everyone got the 'Babyyy' treatment when they were good or needed a pick me up. The way it rolled off of your tongue was like a drug to them. Even more so when it's so deep and passionate. Even more so when their cock is pressing against you.
     Sans eager left turn has the both of you rolling on the floor, laughing as he apologizes loudly from the driver seat. "Sorry, continue!"
     "You heard the man," you laugh from below Wooyoung, "continue."
      And he does, burying his face in your neck and biting and licking and sucking as he rubs his bulge against you like it's the last human touch he'll ever experience. "M'cum," your moan has him rolling into you with a new purpose in life, nearly growling as he holds himself back from painting his underwear white, "shit, Youngie!" You wrap your legs around his waist tightly as you release, shivering and shaking with your jaw slack.
      He isn't far behind by even a second, his gut clenching as he turns his bottoms sticky with his own pleasure, panting into your ear as he continues to roll into you, drawing out your euphoria and making you mewl out, clawing at his scalp.
      In your bliss, you fail to notice that Sans parked outside of a double story motel and ran out with a wad of cash, clearly in a hurry.
Yours hands are wrapped in each others hair, breathing deeply with your foreheads pressed together, almost as it trying to meld your souls together with passion.
    The doors behind the both of you open and flood you in the neon light of the motel signs, and you peek around Wooyoungs frame as he falls over you protectively from what he thinks is prying eyes. "Sannie~" you call, making Wooyoung relax ontop of you.
       "You alive, Foxy?" San teases as he climbs in and crawls to you both.
     "Mhm," he moans into your jaw, "very alive." He gasps as San pulls him away from you by his neck, taking him in a feverish kiss as you watch on in awe. You can tell San his slipping his tongue into Wooyoungs mouth by the way he holds his jaw open, the way Wooyoung grinds his bulge back into you.
     "Youngie, Baby," you whine as he rolls his self into your swollen clit, but it only makes him go faster, his hands finding purchase on Sans waist. "Ah s-" You writhe below him, stopped when one of Sans hands comes and holds you in place by pressing on your stomach: all the while he never opens his eyes or pulls away from your boyfriend. "Fuck, please don't tease!"
He chuckles into his lips, gently stroking his neck. "C'mon, I got us a room for a few days."
Wooyoung begrudgingly slides out of the van, gathering your few bags and bouncing in anticipation as he fixes his pants to the best of his ability. San scoops you up to his chest and you cling to him like a koala bear, kissing all over his face as he carries you up the stairs and down the balcony hall.
Wooyoung drops the bags at the entrance of the room and immediately goes to investigate the single bedded room and bathroom before urging San in, latching the door shut behind him.
You're dropped to the bed and bounce with a soft laugh, opening your legs wide to fit Sans large frame as he slots himself between them. Wooyoung slides next to you and is immediately latched onto your neck as he unbuttons your dress.
"Ah fuck," you mewl out, cradling his head close as your head spins, San slipping off your panties and shimmying down. He holds your thighs apart as he licks a slow, deep stripe up your soaking heat, reveling in the way you moan for him. He wastes no time diving in and eating you out like it's his last meal. His tongue flicking and swiping against every inch it can reach. His nose pressed against your clit as his head bobs.
You're lost in the pleasure between your legs so much so that you don't notice that you and Wooyoung are both naked until he climbs onto your stomach, his hot member gliding between your breasts. Despite how long it's been, your body has its muscle memory from how often you two would do this.
You cup your breasts and push them together, encasing his length in the soft flesh as he grips the headboard roughly, the tip of his cock leaking on the base of your collar bones.
It's hard to appreciate just how beautiful he is while San is ravaging your cunt with his tongue, but you manage. Looking up with blown irises, he's so pretty. His long hair softly framing his face, bouncing with each of his rough, slow thrusts against your supple skin. His swollen lips parted with moans. Toned abs expanding and constricting as he heaves.
"Foxy," you whisper out, catching his eyes with a deep blush on both of your cheeks, "so pretty, Baby."
He curses loudly and reaches one hand down, cradling your face so gently in comparison to how he fucks your tits. "My woman."
The words make your eyes roll back, a wave of your arousal coating Sans tongue as you cum, gripping your breasts tightly and whimpering out as the sensations continue well past your peak.
      Wooyoung wills himself to hold back from cumming until he's told, and San holds himself back as he laps up your juices-grinding his hardness onto the bed slowly. Both of your moans are a magic melody to him, and he can't help but crave more. He pulls away and joins Wooyoung over top of you, wrapping his arms around the younger man and spooking him. He slides his hands up his naked torso teasingly slow, grinding on his backside.
"Shit, Babe," he groans, tossing his head back on his shoulder and simultaneously trying to bury his cock in your warm skin and grind back on San's bulge. "Fuck, I ne-"
"Cum, Youngie." The command from the both of you at the same time has him painting your collarbones and neck in a millisecond flat, jaw slack as San continues to stroke him even as his hips stop.
"Fuck, fuck, please, oh my God," he stirs back to life from his void of pleasure as you bend your neck and lick his sensitive tip. He tries to back away only to bump right into Sans girth on his bare backside. "Oh God~"
        "Need a breather, Sexy?" San coos as he slowly moves Wooyoung off of you, already knowing that he can't cum back to back. He needs at least five minutes at that's all San needs to get you ready for what's about to come.
        Wooyoung comes crawling back into you, lapping up his own seed with a quiet moan as San slides down your body and hooks your legs over his hips. "Ready, Darling?"
      "Yes, holy fuck am I ready, please give it to me," you babble on, only silenced as he inches into your sopping core. He's by far the girthiest man you've even been with. And the stretch always feels so delicious.
       Wooyoung takes advantage as your jaw falls open, leaning over you to drip all of his release into your mouth. The moans and whimpers of pleasure are unstoppable as you swallow all of it down eagerly, hands wrapped up in his hair and pulling him impossibly close. His body follows his head, almost snuggling you as he presses his body flush to your side, one leg hooked over your hips as he grinds his hardening member into your hip.
It's all so warm and welcoming, a familiar and comfortable feeling washing over you along with the overstimulation of your third orgasm building up as San thrusts into you with a steady slow pace. "Fuck," you moan into Wooyoung, "so big," you whimper as your cunt uncontrollably clenches around him. He swallows up all of your noises as he moves his lips against yours zealously, and sneaky hand rubbing the column of your breasts and up to your neck, simply resting: bouncing with each of Sans increasingly rough thrusts that bounce your body.
  "Take me so well," Sans praise has you leaking onto the blanket, panting like crazy and slapping at Wooyoungs shoulders as he bites at your lips hungrily, "pretty Angel, made just for us, hm?"
       "Mmhmph-" Your affirmative moan turns into a yelp as Wooyoung tightens his hand over your neck.
     Damn them. When they decided to be on the same team they were almost scary at how well the schemed without even speaking a single word. San held your hips in place and drilled into you. Wooyoung assaulting your ear with kisses and bites, squeezing your neck in time with Sans hips.
      "Pretty Angel looks like she wants your cum," Wooyoung teases as you swirl your hips in Sans hold, holding you down securely with his hand pressing your neck into the mattress as he looks down at where you're connected.
      "Mmh, she does," San groans loudly, hips snapping into you needily, "looks like a bitch in heat." His words make both of you moan out, your eyes rolling into your skull for a moment before he buries himself to the hilt and stops.
    "No, no, no, please! I wasn't going to cum, pleaseee, Sannie Baby~!" If there's one thing that gets San off, it's when his lover begs him for permission. When their with someone else- cum as much as you like. But with him? Grovel at his feet and beg him for a release only he can give you. "Fuuuck, shit, please, I need you, fuck me!"
Wooyoung watches you with gazed over eyes, holding you still as you attempt to writhe and get more stimulation. "She wants it's so bad, Babe~" He smirks as San, a look that makes his cock twitch inside of you, You muster up your best begging pout and let go of him, reaching for San's hands that are gripping your hips with a bruising force as he holds himself back until he's satisfied with your begging.
"I want you to make me cum, please, Django?"
    All of the breath is fucked out of your lungs as he pounds into you. Fast and hard and nearly animalistic in the way he buries himself in your sopping heat with a string of curses, his fingers interlacing with yours in a soft intimacy that makes your head fuzzy. You can barely moan, how good it is. But he knows. Wooyoung knows.
    As you finally come to your senses and scream out with your release, the whole district must know how well Django is fucking you.
He stops himself with a deep groan as your walls flutter and clench around him, squeezing your hands to ground your soul to your body as Wooyoung dips his head and laps at your hardened nipples. You squeeze his hands tightly, arched off of the bed in pure ecstasy as he fills you with his warm cum.
San slips his arms under your arched back and holds you close to his chest as he flips the two of you, a squeal of pleasure leaving you as he hits an all new angle. He holds you securely as he looks at Wooyoung, almost silently communicating.
He slips behind you, the feeling of his leaking tip prodding at your stretched hole has you gripping Sans shoulders tightly, rolling your hips back into him. "Oh, fuck, yes yes yes yes y-" Sans lips catch yours and silence you as he ravenously slips his tongue into your mouth and licks at your tongue, feeding on all of your moans as Wooyoung slides in with him.
"So good, my woman," his mind is gone, unaware of how your walls grow slicker with his praise as he slowly sheaths himself into you fully.
He nowhere near as thick as San, but dear lord that man has length to make up for it. The both of them together is making your stomach feel hot, the hair on the back of your neck standing up.
San pulls away panting, his lips swollen and wet with your saliva. "Beautiful Angel," you official feel lightheaded as he cradles your face oh so gently as he moves his hips. Wooyoung follows suit, holding your back and fucking into you ruthlessly, rubbing against Sans girth inside of you like it's his favorite thing to do in the universe and it's about to be ripped away.
All you can do is moan and gasp with them, a melody that your neighbors must be cursing as the headboard bangs into the thin walls.
Your chest is pressed into Sans roughly, faces barely an inch away as you all move together. His hands cupping your cheeks and keeping you upright as your body threatens to give out. "Sannie, please, n'cum," he can just make out your slurs over the panting and slapping of skin in the humid room, the smell of sex already soaking into the air.
His brain is nearly gone as he feels Wooyoungs length twitch against him along with your cunt squeezing mercilessly, only nodding at the both of you for permission as he himself lets his soul float away in a wave of pleasure, squeezing you to himself possessively as he cums inside of you. Wooyoung isn't a moment behind, the second he feels Sans warmth flood you, his is joining. And the feeling of both of them soaking your womb makes you lose yourself, dunked in pleasure.
Wooyoung falls ontop of you, sandwiching you between their body warmth. San reaches around and hugs his arms around both of you, heavy breaths lulling you to sleep.
"Holy shit." Is all that can be said.
--
    The next morning you decide to take advantage of the running water that San must have paid extra for, washing away the grime that stuck to you despite how many bird baths Wooyoung have you on the side of the road.
   San, despite you and Wooyoungs best begging, went off on his own to meet with Hongjoong after he got a call on the prepaid flip phone in the middle of the night.
    Wooyoung noticed you eyeing the bag of dirty laundry when you woke up and immediately offered to go wash them and grab some food for the both of you.
      You're so wrapped up in the welcoming feeling of the warm water pelting your body that you fail to notice the door opening, letting the steam rise to the ceiling of the motel room. You sung one of Jongho's songs sung softly, the sound echoing on the fiberglass and acrylic shower wall.
"Darling?"
You grab the knife you left on the edge and swipe the shower curtain back. "Jesus!" Both of you yell. Wooyoungs hands fly up in a defense position as you aim the knife at him for a moment.
You flip it in your hand and hand it over to him by the handle, visibly relaxing as you see it's only your sneaky boyfriend. "Perv~" You tease before sliding the curtain shut dramatically. You can hear him shuffling around, and the sound of his zipper confirms your suspicions.
     He steps over the tub edge and joins you, hugging you close from behind and kissing your neck gently. "Did you-"
     "Mhm, foods on the bed, Princess." You laugh softly before turning in his arms and hugging his neck loosely.
     "You're the best, you know?"
     "I sure do~"
     He reaches over you and grabs the travel size bottle of shampoo, cursing them silently because he will most definitely have to go get some more from the main desk before your stay is over. He lathers it up in his hands a bit before massaging your hair tenderly. "You miss them, don't you?"
     His question catches you off guard for a moment, wondering just what he means until you realize that he must have heard you singing the song Jongho wrote all those years ago on The Illusion.
     Those times were so much simpler. A group of pirates and the open sea. Beautiful blue water and all the time together that you could ever ask for.
    "Don't you?" The way your eyes glaze over is enough to tell him. You miss them just as much as he does. You wish this would end just as much as he does.
     "It hurts like hell."
     "I know, Baby."
     "I want to kill them."
     Hala-Teez, the Strickland officials? All of them. "Me too, Baby."
     He leans your head back carefully and rinses away the coconut scented soap from your hair gently. "I love you." You speak. Just  above a whisper. But he catches it even over the raining water.
  
     "I love you, Darling. This will all be over soon." He doesn't promise because he knows he can't. He doesn't know how long this situation will last. You could be on the run from Strickland and looking over your shoulders for Hala-Teez until your last breath.
      "Joong will figure something out." You don't promise. Because Hongjoong hasn't. He can't. He won't promise something that he doesn't know he cant follow through with. He could be trying to come up with a plan for decades.
      You stand in silence for a moment as you wash his hair gently before he speaks again, "don't cry, Love."
     "What?"
    When you look up, he's blurry. When did you start crying? How did this happen?
   He closes his eyes and hugs you close with his head under the stream of steaming water.
     After a small cry-session in the shower together, you and Wooyoung curled up in the bed and ate your takeout, watching one of the decade old dvd's on the laptop that Yeosang managed to get to you guys a few weeks ago.
The ban from being together for safety didn't stop small run ins with a familiar looking delivery man. Be it disguised as a food delivery man, a mailman, an exterminator- Yeosang always found a way to travel around the city and deliver small gifts from one member to another along with messages from Hongjoong when the phones were down.
A wave of laughter is cut off by a knock on the door. His hand immediately grabs a small hand gun on the nightstand as he stands, your own going to your knife that's sandwiched between the mattress and bed box as you slam the laptop closed.
      "Delivery!" The voice makes you relax.
    "Fucker," you huff as you jump over the bed and beat Wooyoung to the door and smile at the helmeted man. You can't see him, but you know who it is. "Goody~" You peek out into the halls and spot a few suspicious looking people, so you pretend to slip him some money before taking the box and take one last look as he walks away.
     "Open it," he urges impatiently, nearly knocking you over to get to the pizza box as you set it on the small table.
Ontop of your favorite pizza. A small piece of paper. Sans handwriting.
let's bounce
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Text
So now I've just started Royal Ranger and
Dude
I'm about to cry
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