#the only way i can get in touch with her is showing up at her workplace but even if i used to work there too -

[azmageddon]

Silence (Part Two)

Pairing: Azriel x Cassian’s twin!healer! reader

Summary: It’s your turn to find the silence deafening.

Warnings: Short section of spiciness, but definitely not smutty. Also, you can pry the angst from my cold, dead, hands. Give me all the angst. Also painfully inaccurate to the original storyline.

A/n: Sorry it took so long! I’m obsessed with making everything perfect. Enjoy! Let me know what you think and what else you want to see.

“I have one for you too, Y/N.”

You looked up from where you were leaning against the wall at the back of Rhys’s office. Everyone’s eyes were on you and you could have sworn that Azriel, who was leaning against the wall next to you, had stopped breathing all together.

“Me?” you asked, confused.

Rhys only nodded, holding the invitation out further in his outstretched hand. You shuffled your way forward, Mor and Amren stepping aside to give you space. When you finally reached his desk and gripped the letter, you gave it a swift tug, but Rhys didnt let go. The two of you stood there for a moment, hands attached to the letter in a quiet tug-of-war over his desk. You caught eyes with the High Lord. They seemed to say be careful before he finally released the envelope.

Worry hummed across the bond, mixing with yours and sitting in the pit of your stomach. Turning back toward your spot in the back of the room, you risked a quick glance up to Azriel and saw concern plain on his face.

“Watch your face,” you reminded him in his mind and he quickly returned to his stoic, unreadable expression. “Wouldn’t want to blow our secret over a silly invitation, would you?” You tried to keep the conversation light and carefree, but it was difficult when dread had crept into your mind. If Azriel felt your nervousness, he didn't acknowledge it.

“You know,” he replied, “I’ve been rethinking keeping this a secret. Don’t you think it’s time they knew?”

“But it’s so much fun sneaking around.”

You could feel Azriel’s metaphorical eye roll through the bond and suppressed a chuckle while you took your place back against the wall. “I just thought it would be nice after keeping it a secret for nearly 400 years. But we can talk about this later. Open the letter so I can read it, too.”

You did as he asked, slipping your finger under the delicate fold of the envelope and pulling at the wax seal until it released with a pop. Slipping the invitation nestled inside, you turned it around so as to read the looped cursive sprawled in fluorescent gold ink across the page. You felt Azriel shuffle closer to get a better opportunity to read over your shoulder.

Y/N,

It is with great pleasure that we request your presence at the Masquerade Ball hosted by her majesty, Queen Amarantha of Under the Mountain. Please kindly reply within a fortnight. Punctuality is of the utmost importance.

“I don’t like the look of this,” came the voice of your mate in your head.

***

“How do I look?”

Azriel’s eyes snapped up from the book he was reading and instantly dragged themselves across your body. A groan from deep in his chest vibrated through the room and you were hit with a wave of arousal across the bond.

“Down boy,” you teased, stepping toward the vanity at the corner of the room to touch up your makeup. You felt Azriel’s eyes glued to you as you moved. Your dress, dark and revealing, was something Rhys insisted you wore to the party. You were used to outfits like this, the fabric accentuating your full hips and showing off your years and years of hard training. It reached up over the curve of your breasts and plummeted, reaching nearly low enough to expose your belly button. The Night Court demanded respect from those outside the bubble that was Velaris, and your High Lord chose to express the Inner Circle’s blind confidence through dress.

“Gods, if I knew you were going to wear that I would have argued with Rhys more to let me accompany you two.”

You sat at the vanity and reapplied your lipstick. From over your bare left shoulder came a lone tendril of Azriel’s shadows. It snaked along the curve of your collarbone and circled around your neck a few times before settling itself snuggly around your throat like the most priceless of necklaces.

A shiver went through you as the shadow gave a gentle squeeze. “Honestly, I’m surprised he didn’t insist on you and Cassian to join us. You’d have thought he would use this opportunity to show off the strength of the Night Court to the other courts.”

Quiet as his shadows himself, Azriel’s large fingers slowly replaced the wisp of temporary jewelry. It dissipated at its master’s touch, and his hand gently, but firmly, tilted your head back so as to give him better access to the pulse point currently beating wildly at your neck. His lips brushed over the shell of your ear and you let out a soft moan.

“I’d like to see you out of that dress,” he whispered against your skin.

Your throat bobbed as you swallowed hard at his words. A quick nip at your skin had you gasping out a response. “I can’t,” you managed. “Rhys will be here any second.”

Azriel trailed a rough calloused finger along the membrane of your wing and you felt a flush of desire and pleasure run through your body. The need for him flowed through your veins and it seeped deep into your bones. He could tell your willpower was faltering. Every emotion and neediness that you felt was pouring through the bond into his own soul.

“So tell him you’re not ready yet. I won’t take long.” Another nip at your skin, this time at the cleavage of your breast, had you nearly giving in. Your eyes fluttered closed and your chest heaved as he peppered kisses along your neck. But before you could utter another word, there was a knock at the door.

“Y/N?” came the voice of your High Lord. “Are you ready?”

Knowing neither of you could actually delay your departure, you sprung apart. Jumping up so quickly, you felt your chair tipping backward, only to be caught by one of Azriel’s shadows.

“One minute!” You called through the door and turned back to your mate.

“You have to go,” you whispered in a rush, quickly grabbing your bag from the bed and your shoes from their place beside the closet. “You’re not supposed to be in here!”

In your frantic dash across the room to retrieve your items, Azriel gripped your shoulders, halting you. His lips crashed into yours, passionate, hungry, and hurried. It left you breathless and you gasped for air as he pulled back, traces of your lipstick staining his own lips.

“Later, Shadowsinger,” you whispered as you reached up on tiptoe to place your lips against his again, more gently this time.

“I’ll meet you at the exit to say goodbye with the others,” he said into your mind and, stepping into a swirl of mist and shadow, he was gone.

***

“Az, the Autumn brothers are here.” Across the bond, you felt Azriel perk up. He must have been focused on something, perhaps reading a report or reviewing paperwork for his next mission. But at the sound of your voice in his head, you could feel his attention shifting to your gossip.

“Did they dress up?” he asked. “Please tell me Eris came as something ridiculous. Like a chicken or something.”

“Gods, no.” You suppressed a smile and glanced over at the heir to Autumn Court. The only costume he wore was his flaming red hair and permanent scowl on his face.

“Actually,” you continued across the bond, “It looks like Rhys and I aren’t the only ones who refused to dress up. In fact, the only ones who have costumes are the Spring Court.”

Amarantha was saying something, servants coming around to pass out wine in goblets that rivaled the finery of Rhy’s own private collection. You took one without thinking but hesitated before taking a sip. You recalled the words toast and finest wine coming from your hosts lips at some point. When your High Lord, who hadn’t left your side all night, didn’t drink from his yet, you followed his lead.

You barely paid attention all night, anyway. One arm constantly linked into your High Lord’s, you had to play the part of the mysterious, ruthless, second-in-command of the Night Court. Not many outside of Velaris knew much about you, except that you were an exceptional healer and twin the Night Court General. You played the role Rhys had expected you to, and Gods, did you play it well. Not a male in the room could take their eyes off of you, with your long flowing hair, curvy, yet muscular, body, and strong, unclipped Illyrian wings.

But frequently, you found your thoughts drifting back to your mate and the strong fingers you had wrapped around your throat a few hours ago. You hoped they would find their home there again upon your return to The House of Wind later tonight.

A wave of arousal hit you that wasn’t entirely your own and you realized Azriel must be having the same thoughts.

“Having fun without me, Shadowsinger?”

“Just remembering you in that dress,” came Azriel’s voice, low and sultry. “And all the ways I could take it off of you later.” You nearly choked on the breath you took. Rhys cast you a look out of the side of his eye, but you ignored it because Azriel was still speaking.

“Or maybe you can leave the dress on. It doesn’t offer much coverage, anyway.” His voice was growing darker, deeper, and more sensual with every word. “Or maybe the heels. Just the heels.”

You shook your head to clear it, attempting to focus on whatever Amarantha was saying in her toast. Wealth… happiness… friendship… blah blah blah. You ignored her sentences, picking up only on a few words. You did manage to make out her command to drink! before you caught eyes with Rhys. They portrayed something you couldn’t quite read. Sadness? Regret? You must have missed a part of her speech that was important.

Deciding to ask him about it later, you took a swig of your glass along with all the others in the chamber. The wine was sweet, thick like honey, and coated your throat on its way down. In fact, you felt it coating your entire body like a warm blanket. It worked its way into your bones and after a few moments of warmth, you felt the feeling turn to ice.

Icy tendrils shot through your limbs and you ruffled your wings to try and dispel the feeling. But it only became stronger and stronger until finally you felt a deep, soul crushing, emptiness. Quick as it began, the feeling was gone, and with it, the hum of the bond in your chest.

“Azriel?” you called to him. But no response came. Panic seized you and you clutched at your chest with your free hand, your other wrapping tighter around the arm of your High Lord. He was turning toward you now, saying something, but you ignored him. In fact, the entire chamber had erupted into chaos. Voices were all around you, angry and yelling. But the one voice you called for again and longed to hear was silent.

You didn’t know what it felt like to have a bond that was closed. You only knew that this was far, far worse.

“Y/N.” The sound of your name jolted you from your panicked soul searching. You looked up, catching eyes with the High Lord.

“Azriel,” you whispered out loud to him.

“What?” He asked, hands on either one of your shoulders, steadying you.

“Azriel,” you repeated to him. “He’s my mate.” The truth came tumbling out of you. The secret the two of you had kept for 400 years suddenly seemed foolish.

Rhys shook his head, not understanding your words. “Your mate?” He asked, confused. “For how long? Does he know?”

You nodded, tears suddenly filling your eyes. You pushed against the golden thread that tethered the two of you together, but it only ended in darkness. “We’ve been mates for nearly 400 years. We’ve kept it a secret for… oh Gods, Rhys, what has she done?”

He opened his mouth to respond, but quickly snapped it closed. He looked over your shoulder and you whirled, finding Amarantha standing there.

“Oh, my dears,” she began, her voice scraping across your ears like nails against stone. “The two of you are just lovely, aren’t you?”

[moechies]

heartbroken! darling . . who spends hours in her soft bed trying to get herself off — mind pacing back and forth to her ex boyfriend suna rintarou.

heartbroken! darling . . who hates herself for being reminded of how well his fingers worked her little cunt, and how well he fucked with his pretty dick.

heartbroken! darling . . who’s fussing, tossing and turning and huffing into her plush pillow until the soft of her upper arm accidently presses on the contact of her ex, ringing suna’s line.

ex boyfriend! sunarin . . who’s eyes widen when he sees your contact name pop up — still set as ‘sweet girl’ with no intent to change it. who takes a bit of time to answer, so it doesn’t seem like he cares too much.

ex boyfriend! sunarin . . who presses the green button with shaky fingers, parting his lips to speak before he hears a familiar meek moan.

ex boyfriend! sunarin . . who’s cock begins to stiffen at the soft, whiny moans elicited through the speaker of the phone — clearly you’ve misclicked his contact. he knows the moral thing to do would be to hang up, but . .

heartbroken! darling . . who subconsciously whines out her ex boyfriends name slurred with a soft moan, chanting the syllables over and over with occasional ‘ . . miss you . . ‘ and ‘ love you ‘s . . ‘

ex boyfriend! sunarin . . who can hear your sloppy pussy over the poor speaker of the phones, and your soft rumbling in the sheets. who’s listening so intently that he starts to imagine your pussy crying out his name too.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

“r—rinnn . . miss y’ so much ,”

he knows — knows you’re renacting the nights where you two had to resort to phone sex, due to him being heftily busy or out of town. he’s well used to your whining and the scramble of the sheets against the phones speaker, having resorted to phone sex as a way to push off the true issue — he was never home.

“‘m sorry,” you ramble, “sorry f’being so mean . . miss y’ so much. miss your face ‘nd . . fingers and y’r cock—“ you hiccup.

you muffle your voice into your pillow, free arm wrapping under the the cushion for leverage. “rin,” you moan. “l—love you.”

your breath fastens when you feel your climax following, little thumb pressing against your sensitive clit just as suna taught you. “feels good! r—rinnn,” you cry, eyes shut tight with the vivid imagination of your now ex boyfriend behind you, helping you get off.

his sultry voice and featherlight touches transverse your thoughts, soft cries being elicited from your swollen lips and drool dirtying your pillow. you ignore the loud squelches of your pussy, or how you’re dirtying your hand and the sheets below, pumping in and out of your swollen cunt with no other desire but to cum.

you yelp, jump up in terror when you hear a loud masculine sigh and low shlicks, eyes searching the room for the source of noise. you lift your blanket with intentions to slip inside . .

revealing your phone. on an active call with your ex boyfriend named, ‘sweet boy.’ no, you hadn’t changed his contact either. the time of the call displays ‘12:38.’ a hot flash spreads throughout your body,

“r—rin?”

“y—yeah.”

“you . . you didn’t hear anything right?”

it’s so deathly silent, you could hear a pin drop.

“you really miss me that much, doll?” suna chuckles, breaking the silence with a short hum.

“no . . du—dunno what you’re talking about. i—i called on accident so ‘m gonna—“

“don’t be like that baby, don’t hang up. let me come over, yeah?”

“rin—“ you protest,

“oh? we’re not moanin’ anymore? i see . . “

“shut up, suna!” you cry out, defeated and forcibly facing the fact that you had just fucked yourself to the thought of your ex boyfriend — and he heard everything.

“c’mon. let me come over t’night and show you just how much i missed you, too. alright?”

he’s eager when you don’t protest, only a heavy huff before the line cuts off. he’s quick to messily tug up his sweats, rinse off his hand, and reach for keys.

[surielstea]

Dancing With Fate

Original request.

Pairing: Nyx Archeron x Tamlin’s Daughter!Reader

Summary: While struggling with her relationship with her father, Reader goes to her first ball and stumbles upon a male she has never met, but feels a distinct connection to.

Warnings: slight angst with a parent, mostly fluff between Reader and Nyx

A.Note: I apologize for how long this took me to get out, I really struggled with how to format her back story but I ended up fairly happy with it, let me know if y’all want more of these two I’d be happy to write a few one shots of their dynamic as well as all the family drama since I’m such a sucker for the forbidden love trope ;)

6.4k word count.

"Can you do that again for me, my sweet?" my mother whispered, her voice trembling as she crouched down to my height. I watched her eyes fill with a glassy shine that I didn't understand. She reached out, her hands shaking as they wrapped around my small wrists. I blinked up at her, wide-eyed and oblivious, only feeling the warmth of her touch and the tremor of her fingers.

I balled my hands into tiny fists, scrunching my face with all the concentration I could muster. I wanted so badly to make her proud, to show her what I could do. I willed the claws beneath my skin to surface, squeezing my fists tighter until, with a soft tearing, they slid out, small and sharp, shining like new silver. Her breath caught, and her eyes went even wider as she stared at the claws that had split through my knuckles. A single tear slipped down her cheek, and I tilted my head, wondering why she was sad. I reached out, my claws joining the action as I moved, but she stumbled back, evading the sharp silver, her hand pressed over her mouth.

"What's wrong, Momma?" I asked, my voice tiny. I tried to reach for her cheek, to wipe the tear away like she'd done for me so many times, but she shook her head, forcing a small, shaky smile.

"Nothing, it's alright, my sweet," she whispered, her voice soft and a little broken. "I just... didn't think you'd be able to do this so soon." Her fingers lingered on my cheek, warm and tender. She looked at me like she was memorizing my face, like every part of me mattered.

I gave her a proud smile, lifting my hands. "Isn't it cool?" I grinned widely, my innocence unbroken. I had no idea what my claws really meant, or the sorrow that darkened her gaze as she watched me slash the air with them, filling the quiet night with soft, sharp swishes. She just sat there, quiet and sad, holding her own hands close to her chest as if they couldn't bear to let me go.

It was a late night, much too late for me to be awake. I clung tightly to my mother's hand as she led me through a garden filled with roses that gleamed under the moonlight. The flowers were tall and beautiful, and I wanted to reach out to touch them, but my mother's grip kept me close. She moved so fast, her cloak wrapped tightly around her, like she was hiding from something.

"Where are we going, Mom?" I asked in a small voice, but she didn't answer, her steps quickening as she pulled me along. The roses seemed to shiver in the breeze, their petals brushing against us as we passed, and the moon above us was high and cold, casting everything in a silver glow.

Ahead of us was a huge mansion, bigger than any house I'd ever seen. It loomed in the night, dark and quiet, like it was waiting for us. My mother slowed as we neared the porch, her breathing heavy as she crouched down in front of me, her face serious in a way that made my heart beat faster.

She pressed a folded piece of paper into my hands, her fingers cold and firm around mine. "We're going to play a game, okay?" she said, forcing a smile that didn't reach her eyes. Her fingers brushed my cheek, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

I nodded eagerly, happy that she wanted to play. Games with Momma were always fun. She pointed to the paper, her hand gentle but urgent. "Whoever opens that door," she said, her voice steady but quiet, "you give them this paper, okay?" Her gaze held mine, as if she was trying to pour a message into me with her eyes. "And, my sweet," she paused, swallowing hard, "I'm going to hide now. And no matter what they ask you, you can't tell them I was with you. It's a big secret."

I blinked up at her, not fully understanding, but I nodded anyway, like a good girl. She reached out, her fingers lingering on my cheek again, her eyes shimmering with something I couldn't name. "I'll meet you at the window, okay?" Her voice cracked, and a tear slipped down her cheek. "It'll be fun, I promise."

I reached up to brush the tear away, but she was already rising. Before I could say anything else, she knocked on the tall doors, and with a last, lingering look, she turned and melted into the shadows. Just like that, she was gone.

Suddenly, the night felt enormous and empty, the shadows stretching out around me, dark and cold. The noises from the forest grew louder, like the trees and animals and everything hidden within the dark were whispering all around me. My heart pounded, and I almost wanted to cry out, to beg for her to come back and take me home. But before I could make a sound, the massive doors creaked open, casting a sliver of light onto the porch.

A man stood in the doorway, tall and fierce, with wild red hair and eyes that seemed to cut through the darkness. One of his eyes gleamed gold, like a piece of metal, and he looked down at me with a frown, his expression stern and sleepy. "Excuse me, Mister," I squeaked, trying to remember my mother's instructions.

His gaze softened just a bit as he took in my tiny figure. "And who might you be?" he asked, his voice rough but not unkind.

"I'm supposed to give this to you." I held up the paper, my hands trembling as I waited for him to take it. He knelt down, eyeing me carefully as he unfolded the note, his expression unreadable. I gave him a polite smile, remembering my mother's lessons, but his gaze flicked from the note back to me, his eyes narrowing.

"Where's your mother?" he asked, his voice soft but sharp.

I shrugged, fidgeting under his gaze. "I don't know," I whispered, my heart thudding in my chest.

"But she brought you here, didn't she?" he pressed, his gaze steady. I swallowed, unsure of how my mother would want me to answer. After a long, quiet moment, he sighed, opening the door wider. "Come inside. You shouldn't be out here alone."

I followed him into the mansion, the silence thick and heavy as he led me up a grand staircase. My shoes clicked against the cold, polished floor as we climbed up and up, stopping finally at a pair of wooden doors wrapped in ivy. I was too small to open them, so I just waited, feeling very small in the middle of the enormous hallway.

"Wait here a moment," he said, giving me a nod before stepping through the door. I looked around, mesmerized by the golden chandelier hanging above me, its glow casting strange, twisting shadows that moved as the lights flickered.

"I already told you I'm not in the mood to talk, Lucien." A deep, heavy voice sounded from beyond the door, and I jumped, hugging my cloak tighter around me.

"It's not that," Lucien replied, his tone shifting in a way that sounded unsure, even a little nervous. "You have a visitor."

The other voice was silent for a moment, and my stomach knotted up as I realized they were talking about me. "Tell them to leave," the man said finally, his tone cold and final.

Lucien sighed, and I heard the soft rustling of paper. The silence felt like it stretched forever, but then footsteps approached. The door swung open, and I looked up to see a tall man with golden hair, his eyes dark and sharp as they fell on me. I could tell by the way he looked at me that he wasn't used to children, that maybe he didn't know what to do with me.

But he crouched down slowly, his gaze softening just a bit as he held his hands up, like he wanted me to know he wasn't going to hurt me. "What's your name?" he asked, his voice low and gentle.

I told him, my voice a quiet whisper, but he nodded as if he'd heard every word. "Do you know who I am?" he asked, tilting his head, and I shook my head, looking down at my hands.

"I'm the High Lord of the Spring Court," he said softly, his tone proud but his eyes sad. My eyes widened, a little smile pulling at my lips. I'd heard of a High Lord in my mother's stories, someone powerful and magical.

"But, more importantly," he continued, his gaze searching my face, "I'm your father."

I blinked up at him, the words hanging in the air like they were something heavy, something I didn't yet understand. I wanted to ask him what it all meant, but all I could do was stare up at him, my fingers curling around the edge of my cloak, wishing I was safe in my mother's arms again.

———

Ever since that night, I've been confined to this estate on every special occasion, under the watchful eyes of my father's maids, lest I sneak away the moment I'm alone. Tonight, like many others, I'm left looking out the window of my bedroom—the same spot where I'd waited endlessly as a child, hoping my mother would come back for me.

But tonight was going to be different. I'd make sure of it.

I storm out of my room, my heels clicking with determined steps as I march down the hall. I swing open the doors to my father's study without knocking. He looks up from his papers, brow creased, clearly taken aback by my abrupt entrance.

"I'm going to the Dawn Court tonight," I say, my tone leaving no room for discussion.

"Absolutely not," he replies, shaking his head and dipping his quill back in the ink, dismissing me with the kind of finality he's used to exerting over me.

"All the courts are invited," I argue, stepping forward. "I'm obligated to go."

"No," he says again, his tone colder. "It's a high-profile ball. You're not ready."

I draw in a sharp breath, struggling to keep my temper in check. "Not ready? Father, I'm nineteen. If not now, then when?" This age had been difficult for him for some reason, I don't know why but ever since my birthday he's been acting strangely, started keeping me shut out and less involved—I may as well have just been imagining it or it was a coincidence it started happening after I turned nineteen, but once I got the thought in my head it was hard to get it out.

His expression hardens, his voice annoyingly calm. "Just, not now."

A chill spreads through my hands, and I have to resist the urge to bear the claws that hide beneath my skin. "I'm so tired of having every decision made for me," I say, pressing my palms to my temples as frustration wells up. "Of being treated like a prisoner in this house."

He stands, his temper fraying. "And I'm sick of you thinking you know best," His voice rises, echoing in the silence of the study. "You don't understand half of what's at stake."

"No, maybe I don't. But neither do you, apparently," I snap back. "Or maybe it's just that you're afraid to lose the only company you have left in this house. Is that it, Father?"

His hands ball into fists, metal-like claws gleaming from his knuckles. Mine slid out as well, a metallic gleam in the dim light.

"You have no idea what you're talking about," he snarls, eyes darkening.

"Maybe I do," I bite back. "I hate this house." It came out as more of a confession than a retort, but his face falters, pain flickering through his eyes before he regains his composure.

"You don't mean that."

"I do," I insist, voice shaking with anger. "I hate this house, and I wish my mother never abandoned me here." The words are barely out of my mouth before I turn on my heel and stride out, slamming the door behind me so hard the walls shudder, my claws snagging on the wood of the door and scraping the paint off, revealing the bare, slightly rotted wood beneath. It felt like a metaphor, in a strange way.

I make my way to the garden, desperate for air. The night breeze is cool as I step out onto the deck, and I close the glass doors behind me a little more gently this time. Taking a few deep breaths, I walk along the garden path, letting the silence and cold soothe my frayed nerves. Winter's grip is finally loosening, and the garden is starting to come alive with buds and leaves. My favorite time of year.

I reach for one of the rosebuds, my claws retracting ever so slowly, my skin morphing over the hideous metal that gleamed in the moonlight. I forget the feeling of the power my father gifted me and remember the feeling and comforting warmth of my mother's power flickering beneath my fingertips. The flower blooms in my palm, reaching out toward me, and I smile faintly as I coax the other buds open along the path. Flower by flower my frustrating emotions ebb, and by the time I've reached the stone bench, my anger has cooled, replaced by something heavier, more complicated.

I sit, feeling the familiar weight of regret settle over me. I don't hate this house, not really. I hate the way I'm trapped in it.

The glass door opens, and I know without looking that it's him. My father takes a seat beside me on the bench, and I shift away, making it clear I'm not ready to forgive him just yet. We sit in silence, watching the newly-bloomed flowers sway in the night breeze. Finally, he sighs.

"You can go to the Dawn Court tonight," he says quietly.

I turn to him, my eyes wide with surprise.

He hesitates, looking down at his hands. "I'm..." He struggles around the word. "Sorry that you feel like you can't make your own choices," he mutters, his voice filled with a vulnerability I haven't heard ever before. "I'm trying to do better. And, you're right. I am afraid."

My heart softens, and the walls I've built up slowly crumble. "Afraid of what?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Of losing you, in turn losing everything." He looks up, his eyes—a shade of green I've always found comfort in—filled with an emotion that makes my heart ache.

Without thinking, I wrap my arms around him, and he pulls me close, his hand gently stroking my back. "I'm sorry, too," I murmur into his shoulder.

He shakes his head. "Don't be. You're my daughter. You're allowed to be angry with me." He pulls back to look at me. "Just promise me one thing," he says. "Promise you won't run away tonight."

I give him a small smile, the request so obscene that u couldn't help it. "I'll be perfect. Thank you, Father." I reassure.

He nods, satisfied, and rises from the bench. "We leave in an hour. You'd better start getting ready."

———

My dress is a soft lavender that hugs my waist and fans out into a beautiful, flowing skirt, the slit running up my thigh edged in delicate embroidered flowers. The open back crisscrosses with delicate ties, and the neckline is just low enough to be elegant without being too revealing. One of the maids has styled my hair in a half-up, half-down look, a few braided strands framing my face. For once, I feel exactly how I want to feel—elegant, feminine, and free.

I leave my bedroom and make my way down the hall to the marble staircase, where my father waits at the base. As I descend, his eyes widen, his mouth opening slightly as he takes in my appearance.

"Well?" I do a small spin, laughing at his awestruck expression.

He swallows, a proud smile slowly spreading across his face. "You look beautiful," he murmurs, pulling me into a hug.

I hug him back, letting him hold me close, and in that moment, it feels as if all the tension of our earlier argument melts away. We're just father and daughter again.

———

The Dawn Court ballroom is bathed in golden light, warm and inviting. I've barely stepped inside when a tall, dark-skinned man in white robes approaches, a halo of gold atop his head.

"And who is this lovely lady?" he asks, his voice rich with curiosity.

"My daughter," my father answers gruffly, his protective tone unmistakable.

The man blinks in surprise before offering a sheepish smile. "Ah, well then." He turns and makes a quick exit.

"Who was that?" I ask, amused by his reaction.

"High Lord of Day," my father mutters, a hint of irritation in his voice. "He has a reputation."

I raise an eyebrow, smiling as I unlink my arm from his. "Are all High Lords so... pretty?"

"Careful," he growls in warning.

A cheeky smile appears on my lips as I unhook my arm from his. "Only observations." I shrug. "I'm going to get a drink." I take a step away and he takes it with me. "Father, I'm only going to the refreshments table, not war. I'll be fine." I promise and he solicits a sigh.

"No wine." He demands and I shake my head in disbelief.

"Yes sir." I mock salute before spinning on my heel and walking across the ballroom, I make my way to the refreshment table and pour myself a glass from the fountain of cider, admiring the way the bubbles shimmer in the golden light. My father had said no wine but mentioned nothing about spiked cider. I take a long sip and begin to explore the ballroom, watching dancers swirl in gowns of blue and pink that mirror the sunset outside.

Lost in thought, I wander past an indoor garden filled with gardenias and evergreens. I couldn't help myself but slip inside, a few guests were inside, admiring the flowers just as I wished to do, so I deemed I was allowed to. I approached an arch of budded flowers, standing beneath the green vines that soon would be sprouted in color. I reached out, gently brushing a bud with my fingertips, watching as it blooms in reply.

"Your touch has improved since the last time I saw you," a familiar voice murmurs from behind me.

I turn, eyes lighting up as they land on a tan-skinned male with striking red hair. "Lucien!" I throw my arms around him, grinning.

He chuckles, pulling me into a warm hug. "You look stunning, little Fawn," he says, holding me at arm's length to take in my dress. "How did you manage to get out of the house?"

I smirk with a casual shrug. "Whipped out the claws."

He raises an eyebrow, clearly impressed. "Like father, like daughter." He mused and I chuckled, looking down at the flowers reaching towards me, asking for my attention again.

"You want to dance?" His hand comes to my shoulder and I shake my head.

"You go ahead, I think I'll need a few more glasses before I step foot on the dance floor." I scoff and he shakes his head.

"Nonsense, you're a terrific dancer." He bumps my shoulder.

"I'm okay uncle, really," I reassured and he clamped his lips shut.

"Okay, find me if you need me." He presses a kiss to my temple and I nod.

He saunters away towards a group of friends I didn't recognize and I continue exploring, sipping my champagne as I wander through the crowd.

My gaze is caught by a group of strangers dressed in dark clothing. There's a woman in deep maroon, a honey brunette who smiles at me softly, and beside her, a tall man wearing a black-jeweled crown. I study them curiously, trying to place who they might be.

Distracted, I accidentally walk straight into someone's chest.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," I stammer, stumbling back. I trip over my heels, but a pair of strong hands catches me, steadying me before I fall.

"You alright?" an unfamiliar voice asks, deep and soothing.

I look up—and up—and up—at a broad-shouldered man with rugged features and half of his shoulder-length hair tied back. He has a friendly, easy-going smile that immediately puts me at ease.

"Yeah, sorry," I mutter, flushing slightly.

He chuckles, the sound rich and warm. "No need to apologize. I should have been watching where I was going. You'd think five centuries would be enough time to figure that out." He snorts, red siphons gleaming on his chest and hands.

I blink in surprise. "Five centuries?"

He grins, raising an eyebrow. "Hey, no need to make me sound ancient."

I laugh, feeling unexpectedly comfortable around him. "Right. Apologies again." I clamp my lips shut, embarrassed.

"Who's the lucky person that brought you here tonight?" He asks, sensing my embarrassment and switching the topic, shifting to face towards the crowd.

"Couldn't I have come on my own?" I counter, crossing my arms.

He laughs again. "Touché. But I'll bet that doesn't mean you'll be lacking for dance partners." He gestures to the dance floor.

"Maybe," I say with a smile, "but that depends on who asks."

"Well, I would, but my mate would probably have my head if I danced with anyone else," he says, feigning a solemn look.

"Pity," I replied playfully. "But it's alright—you don't seem all that familiar with your feet anyway."

He gasps, feigning insult. "Hey! I'll have you know I'm a world-class dancer!"

"Oh, really?" I raise an eyebrow. "Shame, then. You missed your chance."

He chuckles, backing away. "Well, it was nice talking to you—mystery lady."

"Likewise," I call after him with a smile, watching as he disappears into the crowd.

The music is lively, filling the ballroom with a vibrant energy as dancers swirl and laugh under the golden chandeliers. I sip the last of my cider, feeling a pleasant warmth spread through me. For the first time in ages, I feel, free. Maybe my father had been right to keep me close all these years; maybe I wasn't ready for this world of strangers and their sharp eyes. But as I watch the colors and movement around me, I know I wouldn't trade this feeling for anything.

Lost in my thoughts, I wander past the terrace doors and step outside, onto a balcony that overlooks a sprawling garden filled with glistening fountains and delicate white flowers. I take a deep breath, savoring the crisp night air, and let my fingers trace the cool stone railing wrapped in ivy.

Then I hear it—a quiet, amused hum from just behind me. I turn, startled, and my gaze falls on a young man leaning casually against the doorway, watching me with a slight, crooked smile.

He's tall, with jet-black hair that falls in tousled waves, and eyes that are strikingly, disarmingly blue. He wears a dark, impeccably tailored suit, with a midnight-blue shirt beneath, the top buttons undone enough to reveal tan skin beneath. There's an effortless elegance to him, a quiet confidence, like he belongs in every corner of this glittering world.

"I didn't mean to startle you," he says, stepping forward with a charming half-smile. "But I had to wonder what you were doing all by yourself out here. Parties like these are hardly tolerable alone."

I raise an eyebrow, feeling my cheeks warm under his gaze. "And yet here you are, all by yourself."

He chuckles, eyes gleaming with a mischievous glint. "Fair, though technically, I'm not alone anymore, am I?"

I laugh, feeling my earlier irritation with my father melt away as I look at him. "I suppose not. Though I doubt you're here to keep me company."

He raises a hand in mock innocence. "You wound me. I've been nothing but kind since we met."

"Have we met?" I ask, tilting my head. "I think I would've remembered," I say with an angled head and something flickers in his sapphire gaze that I can't quite place.

He seems to consider this, tilting his head thoughtfully. "No, we haven't officially met," he concedes. "Which feels like a shame, honestly."

The corners of my mouth lift in a smile. "So, are you going to introduce yourself, or are we just going to continue being strangers?"

His eyes sparkle with something like amusement as he extends a hand. "Strangers sounds nice," I say flippantly, looking out at the Dawn Courts skyline, a sliver of the sun barely visible. This party was supposed to last until dawn, until the sun returned and the entire court could watch the outmatched sunrise of this court.

I wasn't ready to commit to making any friends, I had just gained my freedom, I wished to revel in it for a few moments longer, nameless was my way of doing it.

He laughs, a rich, genuine sound that makes my heart skip. "Alright, stranger," he says, leaning casually against the railing beside me. "What brings you out to the edge of the ballroom?"

"Some air," I reply with a shrug, looking out over the garden. "I hadn't expected to feel so claustrophobic."

He nods, understanding flickering in his eyes. "Parties can be exhausting. All the faces, all the names. It's nice to step away."

I glance at him. "You sound like you've been to one too many of these."

"Oh, you have no idea," he says with a grin. "I think I've been to so many I could navigate them in my sleep."

"And here I thought you looked like you were having fun," I tease.

"Maybe I'm a good actor," he says, his tone playful. "Or maybe I just needed a reason to enjoy it."

I roll my eyes, but I can't help the smile that tugs at my lips. "Does that line actually work for you?"

"More often than you'd think," he says, laughing. "But since you're clearly immune to charm, let me try a different approach." He holds out a hand, bowing slightly. "Would you do me the honor of a dance, stranger?"

I hesitate, glancing back at the ballroom, but something about his easy smile, the spark of humor in his eyes, makes me want to take his hand. I place mine in his, letting him lead me closer.

The music inside changes as his lithe fingers make contact with my waist, shifting to a slower, softer melody. He adjusts my stance, guiding me with a gentleness that surprises me. There's a warmth in his gaze that makes my heart pound just a little faster as I look up at him.

"So, princess," he murmurs as we begin to move, his voice barely audible over the music echoing from inside. "Are you here with family? Or did you sneak away to attend the most boring ball of the season?"

I laugh, looking up at him with feigned offense. "Boring? I'll have you know I'm having a wonderful time."

"Are you?" he asks, eyes twinkling. "Or are you just saying that to make me feel better?"

"Maybe a little of both," I admit, a smile tugging at my lips. "And you? Do you always call balls like these boring?"

"Only when my mother's not here to overhear," he replies, grinning. "But tell me, how did you get here?"

I hesitate, wondering how much to tell him, but there's something about his gaze that makes it feel safe, to be honest. "My father brought me," I say, keeping it vague. "He doesn't let me out much."

"Really?" The stranger's eyebrows lift in surprise. "I would've pegged you for someone who went wherever they pleased."

"I'd like to think so," I reply, laughing. "But apparently, my father has other ideas."

He raises an eyebrow, curiosity in his eyes. "What does he think you'll do? Start a rebellion?"

"Maybe," I say with a shrug, a playful glint in my eyes. "He's probably right."

His laughter is warm, and he holds me a little closer as we spin across the marbled balcony floor. "Well, if you ever need a partner in crime, let me know. I'm an excellent accomplice."

I arch an eyebrow, smirking. "How do I know you're any good at sneaking out?"

He grins, leaning down until his voice is a soft murmur in my ear. "Trust me, princess. You don't survive my family without learning how to slip away now and then."

I glance up, meeting his gaze, intrigued by the way his words hold a hidden depth, a story he's not telling. "Your family sounds, interesting."

"That's one way to put it," he says with a chuckle, eyes flickering with a momentary shadow. But it's gone as quickly as it came, replaced by his easy charm. "Let's just say they have certain expectations."

"Well, then maybe we have more in common than I thought," I say, softening.

"Seems that way," he murmurs, his voice softening too. There's a gentleness in his gaze now, and I feel his hands hold me just a little more securely as if he's anchoring me.

We dance like this, quietly, for a few moments, simply enjoying the music and each other's company. He spins me once, drawing a soft laugh from me, and when he pulls me back, I'm closer than I realized, his breath warm on my cheek.

"Do you think we'd have met otherwise?" he asks quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

I blink, a little caught off guard by the question. "Maybe. Maybe not."

"Fate has a funny way of working, doesn't it?" He's still holding me close, his gaze warm and thoughtful, and I feel the world fade away a little as we look at each other.

"It does," I reply, almost breathless, my heart pounding in my chest.

He's quiet for a moment, his eyes glimmering with something I couldn't place. "I hope—I hope fate lets us meet again."

For a moment, I forget about the ballroom, about my father's rules, about everything except him. I don't know who he is, or why he's here, but something about him feels achingly familiar, like we're old friends, like I've known him in some other life.

When the music fades, he slowly lets me go, and I feel the loss of his warmth, his presence. He steps back, bowing with a playful, courtly gesture.

I scoff a laugh and give my best attempt at a curtsy. "You're a natural," He muses as the music dies down and I sidle closer to the balcony, eager to look out at the world beyond that I had never witnessed before.

The balcony feels almost timeless as we stand there, his presence beside me grounding in a way I hadn't expected. We talk as if there are no constraints, just the night around us, a quiet space carved out in the world. His words flow easily, a mix of humor and teasing, sometimes dipping into moments of gentleness that make my chest tighten.

I can't help but keep stealing glances at him, trying to memorize the sharp line of his jaw and the warm, playful gleam in his eyes. And every time I meet that gaze, I feel the strange, unshakable familiarity tugging at me—a whisper in the back of my mind that insists I know him, that maybe I've known him far longer than this one night. But I can't let myself get swept away in that feeling. Not yet.

We talk for hours about anything and everything, I tell him about the flowers below us, and what they symbolize, and in return, he tells me of the stars in the sky, the constellations, and each of their names.

We talked about things that I never voiced before, but there was a steady comfort in his presence that made me feel like I could confess even my deepest mistakes and he'd nod with understanding in his eyes, not a flicker of judgment.

We didn't go into the ballroom the entire night, had taken up the small seating area that curved around the side of the building I hadn't noticed before.

"So, princess," he says, smirking as he leans his back into his chair, arms folded in a lazy, practiced ease, "if you weren't here, what kind of trouble would you be getting yourself into?"

I think for a moment, letting my fingers graze the ivy-covered stone. "Trouble? I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, I'm sure you don't." He smirks, an amused glint in his eyes. "I pegged you for the rebellious type the moment I set eyes on you." He goes on.

I shrug, glancing out over the shadowed garden below. "Well, clearly you don't know me very well," I reply in a snarky tone, my lips curling into a teasing smile. "Perhaps I'm a perfectly obedient daughter who follows all the rules."

His laugh is low and rich, sending a pleasant shiver through me. "Now, I find that hard to believe," he murmurs, tilting his head to meet my gaze. "A wildflower like you, growing in a gilded cage? No, I think you're meant to be out there—" he gestures to the dark mountains beyond the garden, "—living on your own terms."

My cheeks warm under his gaze, but I lift my chin. "And you? What about you, oh wise stranger? Surely you're not the type to follow anyone's rules but your own."

"Oh, I'd follow them," he says, his voice dropping to a playful murmur, "if you were the one making them."

I feel my face flush at his words, but I can't resist matching his grin. "Be careful what you wish for. I'd hate to ruin that roguish charm with a few boundaries."

"Boundaries?" He raises an eyebrow, laughing. "I don't believe you’re the kind of girl to put them in place, life's far more interesting without them, don't you think?" He cocks his head in an all too demeaning fashion, as if he knows me better than to even suggest such a thing. I can’t help but smile at the familiarity, of being truly seen and known, it was foreign, but welcomed. “More than you know,” I reply, a softer atmosphere taking over with the tenderness in my voice.

"So, what does someone like you dream of seeing?"

It's a simple enough question, but I find myself hesitating, surprised by how much I want to answer, how easy it feels to open up to him. "I want to see everything," I admit, my voice almost a whisper. "Every corner of the world. The mountains, the seas. I want to taste the air in different places and feel the ground under my feet where no one else has walked. I want to be free."

It's more than I've ever shared with anyone, especially someone who doesn't even know my name. I swallow, feeling suddenly vulnerable, but when I glance at him, his gaze is warm, and understanding. As if he knows exactly what I mean.

"I think freedom suits you," he says softly like he's revealing a secret. "It's in your eyes—the way they look past this place, like you're already somewhere else entirely."

His words send a shiver through me, and for a moment, I can't find any words at all. So instead, I look away, watching as the sky shifts from deep indigo to a paler shade, hinting at the dawn. "Maybe one day I'll get to see it all," I say, more to myself than to him.

"I have a feeling you will." His voice is quiet, almost wistful, and I glance back to find him watching me with that same, unsettling familiarity, as if he, too, feels this strange pull between us.

We fall into an easy silence after that, leaning against the railing side by side as the stars start to fade. Occasionally, he says something that makes me laugh, and I find myself telling him things I'd never tell anyone else—about the books I love, the dreams I've buried, the way I crave a life that's different from the one set out for me.

He listens, really listens, his attention never wavering. And in return, he shares pieces of himself, though I sense he's careful, holding back just as much as I am. He speaks of a family that has expectations, a life lived beneath a weight that isn't always visible. I don't pry, but I nod, letting him know I understand.

The sky lightens, a faint glow spreading over the horizon, and I can't help but feel a pang of regret as the world around us starts to wake.

"You know," he murmurs, his voice low, "I think this might be one of the best conversations I've ever had."

I laugh softly, though my heart aches a little at the thought of this night ending. "You don't get many opportunities to talk with strangers on balconies?"

"Not like this," he says, glancing down at me, his expression unreadable. "Not with someone like you."

There's something so earnest in his gaze that I feel my resolve waver. I want to tell him who I am, to share every piece of myself, but a part of me resists, clinging to this fleeting anonymity.

"Thank you," I say softly, and I mean it more than he could ever know.

"For what?" he asks, his tone warm.

"For reminding me that people can be kind. That they can listen." I smile up at him, feeling a strange mixture of sadness and hope. "I think I needed that."

The first light of dawn glimmers on the horizon, casting a soft glow over the garden. Slowly, he reaches out, taking my hand in his, his touch warm and steady. I feel his thumb brush gently over my knuckles, and it sends a wave of warmth through me, a silent promise in his touch.

"Maybe one day," he says softly, his voice barely a whisper, "we'll meet again. Maybe fate will give us that."

I can't bring myself to say anything, so I simply nod, letting myself savor the feel of his hand in mine for just a moment longer.

As the first rays of sunlight touch the garden below, he releases my hand, stepping back with a soft smile. He gives me one last, lingering look before turning, disappearing through the terrace doors and back into the world from which he came.

I stay there, watching as the light fills the sky, feeling like I've lost something precious and found something rare all at once.

Comment or reblog with a “💙” to be added to the general taglist!

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[ollimus-prime]

HAIIII OLLIE !!!!1!1!!!!!!1!!!!!◝(ᵔᗜᵔ)◜ ◝(ᵔᗜᵔ)◜ ◝(ᵔᗜᵔ)◜ IM LOWKEY SOOOOOO EXCITED THAT YOURE WRITING FOR TRANSFORMERS ON A COMPLETELY DIFFERENT BLOG ENTIRELY MADE FOR IT!!!!1! + you already KNOW who it is — ITS YOUR BOY 😼😼 /ref

i’ve been tweaking so hard over tfone b-127 bumblebae boy bc he’s so auuuhhh — 😭😭 got me on my knees bc my type in men is so golden retriever boyfriends, BUT SPEAKING OF GOLDEN RETRIEVER BOYFRIENDS!!

i hope you don’t mind me requesting b-127 with a fem cybertronian reader who’s just his female counterpart drabble or hcs? like it’s giving yapper x yapper and golden retriever x golden retriever, no freaking doubt both fell for eachother the moment they introduced themselves and started to yap together. OK I TALK TOO MUCH, PLS TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF OLLIE!!! DRINK UP, EAT UP, SLEEP WELL AND TAKE BREAKSSSS!! Loves ya much :)

Yapper Adoration

A/N, not important: Hope you like it, Frankie. I tried my best. Also, it's Gender Neutral, not fem. Sorry! Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

-Ollie

CW: N/A(unless y'all see smth I need to add)

Words: 554

Summary: B-127 finally has someone to talk to

B-127 was first introduced to you via Elita-1. She had met you during her time in waste management, your bubbly and eager-to-please personality strikingly similar to B’s own. Elita-1, knowing she had two loud and boisterous bots that needed constant attention, stuck you together in hopes that you would both get along and stop bothering everyone else. To Elita-1’s delight and slight horror, the two of you stuck together like magnets.

B-127 finally had someone who not only was willing to listen to him, but someone who actively engaged in what he said. Not to mention you had worked similar jobs, causing a bond to form from the toil of sorting garbage and the dream of doing more. You were just as positive and rambunctious as him, causing B-127 to immediately latch onto you as his new best friend.

Not that you minded, of course. You had your fair share of bots who’ve been annoyed by your endless chatter, and finding someone who was similar to you in personality and mannerism was just as freeing to you as it was to B. Neither of you were much willing to separate after your first meeting. Despite Elita’s chiding of you both moving too fast, you had started dating the kind and energetic bot.

You’re also one of the only bots B-127’s met that didn’t immediately think he was insane. Sure, you’ve joked about his ‘friends’ that he made down in sub level 50 before, but he didn’t sense a hostility in your tone like most others seem to have. You encouraged his interests and helped him find new friends, showing support he’s never truly received before.

There’s never silence when either of you are around, both of you capable of listening to the other’s prattling just as much as you converse back and forth. Having someone willing to listen to your interests and engage with them is something neither of you really realized you needed. While you were definitely more socially aware than B was, you weren’t much better at keeping friends around.

You comfort him a lot after D-16’s departure, allowing him to express his feelings in a healthy way while dealing with his quick gain and loss of friends. He leans on your positive attitude to keep his intact as well, and he’s incredibly grateful to have you. He wants to have all of his friends back, but having you to lean on after losing one so quickly makes it easier to manage.

Neither of you ever stop bragging about landing each other, the both of you getting into basic lovers quarrels over who loves the other more. Whenever you’re seen together, you’re almost always touching in some way. Whether it’s holding hands, hugging, or leaning against each other, there’s not much that can make either of you stray far enough to not be glued to the other. It’s mostly for B’s sake, as being alone for so long really had to put a strain on his mental health. Being able to hang onto you is a good reminder you’re not only real, but that you’re not going anywhere.

He’s your best friend through and through, and feels super safe with you. He wants you to know you’re his favorite person and reminds you like, every few minutes. You’re everything he’s ever wanted.

[aventurineswife]

Hi, how are you?

Could you make an s/o who loves to kiss Sunday and Robin's wings?

I love your work ❤️

Feather Light Kisses

Tags: Sunday x Reader, Robin x Reader, Wing kisses, Fluff, Ticklish Wings, Established Relationship, Soft Moments, Comforting Affection, Flustered Sunday!!, Sensitive Wings, Headcanons, Tender Moments, Shy & Blushing Halovian Siblings.

Warnings: Fluff, Sensitive Wings, Brief Mentions Of Sadness

A/N: I'm well, and I hope you are too!! Btw (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠) THIS IS SO CUTEE!!

Sunday’s usually so composed and dignified, but when it comes to your affection for his wings, even he finds himself getting flustered. The first time you asked to see his wings up close, he was surprised but agreed, not expecting you to run your fingers over them so softly or lean in to press a gentle kiss.

His wings are soft and incredibly sensitive to touch. When you start kissing along the edges, he can barely keep his usual calm, especially since your kisses send little shivers down his spine.

He tries to hide the ticklish effect it has on him, biting back a laugh and doing his best to maintain composure. However, his wings twitch and tremble under each gentle kiss you place on them.

At times, you’ll catch him smiling shyly, a rare sight, as his golden eyes warm with affection. Sunday might pretend he’s not affected, giving you a soft “Are you done, love?”—but you can see the pink on his cheeks and the way he closes his eyes in contentment when you continue.

Whenever he’s had a rough day, one way you calm him is by sitting with him, softly stroking and kissing his wings, which helps him relax more than he’d like to admit. In those moments, he feels grateful, not only for the soothing gesture but for the quiet understanding and love you bring him.

Robin’s wings are breathtakingly beautiful, with an almost ethereal shimmer, their hues mirroring the lilac and violet colors of her outfit. When you touch or kiss them, her wings flutter slightly, making her giggle softly, and you can tell she’s not used to anyone showing them this kind of affection.

Her wings are a little ticklish, and it doesn’t take much for her to smile or laugh softly under your touch. When you kiss the edges, her cheeks flush with a rosy hue, and she finds herself blushing at how tenderly you treat her.

Whenever she’s feeling overwhelmed or weighed down by memories of her past, your kisses and soft touches to her wings bring her back to a place of comfort and calm. She feels safe and loved, the ticklish sensation lifting her spirits and helping her forget her sorrows, even if just for a moment.

She often tries to hide the shivers that your kisses bring, but the way her wings tremble is a clear giveaway of how much she enjoys it. Sometimes, she’ll playfully nudge you with one of her wings, teasing you about being her “favorite admirer.”

Robin adores when you lean close and murmur sweet things against her wings, then press your lips gently to them. It’s become her favorite way to unwind, and she often finds herself humming softly in response, almost as if to thank you for the gentle, loving affection you always show her.

[porrabett]

Rio, Nicholas and Agatha through time

There’s something that I noticed about Rio and Nicholas, that I really can’t understand why, maybe someone can see some foreshadowing or meaning on it, I don’t know.

They gave Rio a birthmark, and I noticed this birthmark just shows up in the scene before Nicholas birth. Aubrey Plaza don’t have it, so they really put it on her for the scene and for this scene only.

After it, when she comes to get Nicky’s soul and in the present moment, she doesn’t have it anymore. I thought that they would put some birthmark on Nicholas in a way to show he is Rio’s son too, but that’s none birthmark in the baby. And even with Nicholas as a 6 years old, he has three birthmarks on his face, but in different spots, it seems more is just because the actor already had it, not about Rio. It really made me curious why they would put this birthmark in her, and just in that moment.

Second, and just to keep moving the “Rio is Nichola’s mom too” train. I think she really would meet him at night, or maybe in some moments he was alone, like when Agatha was killing the witches with The road scam.

I think in the moment of the two goodbye kisses, not just was something Rio already talked to him, so he knew what he needed to do, but the kisses were giving by his soul.

The way that Rio was there and he just goes in her direction, like is something he already did others nights.

Rio interrupts him going to her and points back to Agatha, and she does it in a affectionate way, like a mother remembering her son something she has already told before.

He looks at Agatha and then stops, like he was think in something, like Rio has already prepared him for this moment, and he knew exactly what he needed to do. As if Rio has told him that in one specifically day, when she would visit him, he would say goodbye to his mama before he would go with his mother. And we can see that there is no hesitation, fear or doubt, he just stops, like he is remebering something he was told, and then goes to do what he already knew he would had to.

And then the two kisses scene, it really looks like he is giving two goodbye kisses, one for him and the other for Rio. And it seems like Nicky’s mouth is barely touching Agatha’s cheeks, I think in this moment we maybe are seeing his soul, ready to go.

Just a curious thing, even with Rio and Agatha not being together, Rio still is more in her Green Witch energy, like she knows that even giving Agatha more time, in the end, Nicky will come with her, because his time there was a borrowed time. I think she thought Agatha would understand that, with some time, what she made, and she said it in 1x08.

But we know that didn’t happened, a mother will always want to be with her son, and is a cruel irony that Agatha lost him for Rio, the person who took him away, and because of Rio, as he is most likely Death’s son too, almost like he was born to die.

I believe everytime they would meet again, when Agatha was killing other witches after Nicky’s death, they would fight, Agatha would throw all her sorrow and pain in Rio, Rio would fight for her, and they would make out, or at least reconnect for a moment, like in 1x04.

But then Agatha would leave, almost like she was torturing Rio, denying to Rio the person she loves, the same way Rio denied to Agatha, to be with their son.

I feel this happened again an again through decades, giving an even more dark and complex energy to their relationship, and for them as individuals. The Rio we met in present time is way darker than the one we see in the flashbacks. Then Agatha got the darkhold and hid from her, until Weastview.

That would explain Agatha’s reaction to Rio acepting the deal with her, in 1x08, she wasn’t expecting Rio would say ok, she probably was used to throw all her tantrums to Rio and Rio trying to make amends with it. But not this time, Rio had enough, so Agatha has her surprise face, and the pain, like she feels, for the first time, Rio is giving up on her.

But at the same time she masks it quickly, and we can see she is almost loosing the control over her emotions. Later, with Billy and Jen, she is on full villain mode because Rio let her there, and she still can get out of the road. Rio is the constant in her life, since Salem, no matter what happens, how much they fight, love or hate eachother. They always find themselves in each other’s path.

And we know how this ends.

[dixonsbrat]

𖥔 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐆𝐎, 𝐈’𝐌 𝐆𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎𝐎 𖥔

summary ; daryl relives the tough choices that were made when he decided to leave the commonwealth.

notes ; established relationship, takes place both in france and at the commonwealth. just a whole lotta angst honestly. 4k words - this is the longest fic i’ve written in literally forever so enjoy ᡣ𐭩

do not transfer, translate or share my work to any other sites.

"have you ever been in love?" sylvie’s question takes daryl by surprise, his attention momentarily pulled away from the road ahead of them as he turns to look at her in the passenger seat. her french accent is thick, though her words and facial expression are soft - like her.

there’s a noticeable shift in his demeanour, his heart panging in his chest as his thoughts drift toward you back home, back at the commonwealth, where an ocean now stood between you and him. there’s a sad look in his eyes, a mixture of pain and guilt and it’s clear that something deeply rooted within him had happened between the two of you.

“why do you look so sad?” sylvie observes him gently. she can sense the weight of his thoughts, the memories he’s carrying. she wants to press him on it, to further dissect the man that had fallen into their lives, but decides to wait for him to speak instead.

daryl doesn’t answer immediately, his gaze fixated on the open stretch of road ahead as his hands tightly grip the wheel. sylvie’s question was simple, straightforward, but for him, it was anything but. the weight of his thoughts bear down on his chest, stirring up a whirlwind of emotions he had spent months trying to bury deep down.

“s’complicated.” his voice is low and gravelly when he does finally answer, though laced with hurt as he clenches his jaw tightly.

“complicated?” sylvie repeats, her voice gentle, yet betraying her curiosity. she’s not pushing, she just wants to understand - understand why that was the word he had chosen to describe whatever it was that was clearly plaguing him.

“mhm…” he grumbles, a slight nod of his head as he refocuses on the road once more.

sylvie senses the deep hurt and longing that lies beneath his stoic exterior, “because you… still love them?”

“... sometimes love ain’t enough.” his voice is harsher than he intends, but he leaves it all the same. he could still hear whispers of your laughter ringing in his ears, and how sweet you sounded when saying his name. if he could turn back time and stop himself from ever leaving the commonwealth - from ever leaving you - he would.

his mind flashes back to the last night he had spent with you, the feeling of you in his arms, soft and close. how you looked at him with those warm eyes full of adoration, full of care, the way no one else had ever looked at him before and he wished he could have held onto that moment a little bit longer, a little bit tighter.

you’re sitting on the floor of your room, laughing, your legs stretched out alongside daryl’s as you both lean against your bed. the night had settled over the commonwealth and though exhaustion tugged at both of your minds, you didn’t want to retire for the night just yet, not when you knew it was your last night together.

“i’m still pissed at you,” you say, though there’s no real anger in your tone, just lighthearted playfulness as your eyes gleam in the soft light of the room. you had a habit of looking at him as if he were the only person in the world - which to you, he was.

he nods, huffing out a quiet laugh, “i know. i know ya are.”

his eyes fall to your body, admiring softly, the way your shirt hangs a little off your left shoulder, showing a hint of your collarbone, and his fingers slowly reach to trail down the exposed skin. you notice the way his eyes roam your body, and for a moment, the mood of playful banter shifts into something warmer, something heavier. the air feels a little more charged between you both, the feeling of wanting, not knowing when you’ll get the chance to hold and touch one another like this again.

daryl tries to ignore the way his stomach twists at the memory, the way his mind drifts back to the last time he had touched you. he knows he shouldn’t but the memories are too vivid, he can practically hear your soft gasps in his ear, hear the way you say his name, all breathy and full of love. he can’t help but let himself get carried away in the distant memories of you and the love you shared together.

you bite your lower lip a little, drawing his eyes towards your mouth, and he feels a pang in his chest at the action. you see the way his jaw tenses, how he looks at you with his steely blue eyes, and know he’s fighting against his thoughts, trying to suppress the desire that was clearly building inside of him.

you feel that familiar twist of desire in your own stomach, that familiar need for him building with every passing second. you shift towards him slightly, your leg brushing against his, “...what am i going to do without you?”

he’s struggling, holding back, but he can’t resist the way you move towards him, the way your thigh brushes against his. he brings a calloused hand up to cup your face, thumb tracing over the skin of your cheek. his eyes flicker to your lips again, his heart beating faster, the pull towards you becoming stronger. the desire to hold you, to keep you close, to never let you go, is overwhelming.

he swallows thickly, “yer gonna be fine. always are.”

there’s a pause as you shake your head, taking in a deep breath as tears dare to prick at your eyes, “not this time.”

the feeling of helplessness washes over him as he sees the emotions play across your face. his hand moved to your jaw, cupping it gently before tipping it slightly so you’re looking directly at him. your eyes are watery, pained, and it kills him to see it, to know he’s the cause of it. his thumb brushed over your cheek, wiping away a lone tear that had slipped down it.

“don’t cry,” he tries to reassure you, voice gruff and low, but somewhat softer for him.

“how can i not when you’re leaving me…” you exhale, eyes almost fully glazed over as your mind spirals with the dread of what comes in the morning.

he doesn’t know how to make you feel better, how to soothe away that fear that’s plaguing you. daryl has always had a tendency for keeping people at arms-length, to not let them get too close in case they leave, in case they get hurt. but with you it’s always been different. you’re different. you’ve seen deeper into him than anyone else ever has and despite that, you stayed.

you chose him.

your eyes flitter across his features, as though to be committing every small detail to memory. every crease, every freckle or mole, even the grey hairs that were poking through the scruff on his chin, you wanted to remember it all as though it was the last time you’d ever see him.

he can tell you’re scared, unsure, trying to memorise him, like you believe that this might be the last time you see him. he can feel the shakiness of your body, the warm tears that fall from your eyes, your soft forehead pressed against his. there was nothing more that he wanted than to be able to tell you where he was going and how long he was going to be gone, but most importantly that he would be back.

you move your hands up to rest around his neck, pulling him as close as humanly possible, your lips only grazing his before you eventually close the space between you. it’s soft and gentle, the way your lips move together, your tongues lightly dancing, but the need for one another quickly takes over. transpiring into a longing of want and need to be even closer. his hands grip your hips, holding onto you tightly like he’d never let you go.

“i love you,” you breathe the words as you try to regain your breath but all daryl can see is the mixture of love and sadness in your eyes.

it wasn’t the first time you had said it to him, or the second or third, you made sure to say it to him as much as he would allow you to, but no matter what, it always felt like the first time. he buried his head in the crook of your neck, lips grazing over the sensitive skin there as he breathes you in. he can feel the way your body trembles, the way you cling to him, afraid to let him go.

“i love you too,” he mumbles against your skin, the words barely audible, like a secret you both already knew but didn’t want to admit aloud.

“who was it not enough for — you or them?” sylvie’s question rips him from his thoughts, hitting him deep in the chest once again.

daryl exhales heavily, his fingers tensing around the steering wheel once more. “i don’t… me,” he answers honestly, his voice almost a whisper. the words hang in the air, heavy and loaded with the weight of his decision.

sylvie sees the turmoil and decides to change the topic slightly, deciding to approach the matter from a different angle, “will you tell me about them?” her voice is low and soothing, drawing him slowly out of his dark thoughts.

he wants to scream ‘no’, to shut it down immediately, knowing that the act of talking about you, even though it would be painful, felt like the only way to keep you close. he wasn’t one for sharing, for letting others inside his mind, but the idea of telling someone about you, not knowing if he’d get another opportunity to do so… it hurt more than the idea of reliving the memories he had shared with you and the impact you had made in his life.

he’s quiet for a moment, swallowing the growing lump in his throat before he opens his mouth, “she was… she was beautiful. caring. strong. stubborn, real stubborn.”

he lets out a soft chuckle at the thought of the numerous times you’d made his life a living hell over the years, yet he’d secretly loved the way you’d never take his bullshit and would always put him in his place. sylvie can’t help but admire the way he lights up as he speaks about you, the tension in his shoulders and jaw easing at her gentle prodding.

“she had this… way about her, ya know?” his voice is still gruff as he speaks, yet there’s a softness to his tone now, an undeniable fondness. “she could hit a target in the bullseye without battin’ an eye but then trip up on her own feet a few seconds later.” he continues, a hint of awe in his voice now as he describes you, like he’s talking about some mythical being. he finds himself once again getting lost in his thought of you, the corner of his mouth lifting in a sad smile.

“she knew how to make me feel…safe. usually it was my job to make others feel that way, to be the protector, but not her, she always wanted to take care of me. like she’s got this hold on me that i can’t shake, and i don’t… i don’t know if i ever will…”

“you still love her… that’s why.” sylvie points out after seeing the way he had spoken about you. it was the first time he had indulged anyone in a conversation about himself, about his life before france, about you. you were clearly important to him, otherwise he wouldn’t have let himself get so caught away in talking about you, and he can’t help but feel surprised at himself for doing so.

“ain’t that simple,” he responds, the sharpness returning to his voice as his walls go up once more because he knows that he can’t deny the truth. he did still love you, of course he did, that was never in question. but he also can’t ignore the complex factors that had torn the two of you apart, or that it was entirely his fault.

sylvie pauses for a moment, before saying, “perhaps, but perhaps it also shouldn’t have to be so hard.”

daryl lets out a bitter scoff, his jaw clenching tighter and he turns his attention back to the road ahead. he doesn’t respond to her this time, his mind preoccupied with the tangled mess of his emotions. he knows that things should be simple. hell, they had been simple at one point. but life wasn’t a fairytale, especially in the world you now lived in and it was his job to keep you safe, whether you liked it or not.

you watch as daryl pulls his backpack tighter around his shoulders and continues walking as if you hadn’t said a word, as if you hadn’t just told him you wanted to go with him, wherever it was that he may end up. “i said i want to come with you,” you repeat louder now, your words echoing back to you as your heart thrums so loudly in your chest that you were sure it was going to explode.

daryl stills at your voice now, his shoulders tensing at your words. he had heard you the first time but hoped that you would drop it after seeing him continue on his way, but, of course, things could never be that simple. he can practically feel the desperation in your voice, the pleading tone making his heart ache, but he stubbornly resists the urge to turn around and look at you.

“...no.” he responds without any hesitation, any trepidation, his voice firm as he allows no room for you to argue.

“no?” your voice is a soft murmur as you move to stand in front of him. your gaze full of confusion and hurt, your heart still racing in your chest. “what do you mean ‘no’?”

his blue eyes finally meet yours, the usual warm depth within them now cold and guarded. he stands there, jaw clenched, looking down at you with a mixture of stoicism and stubbornness as he fights off the urge to reach out and smooth away the hurt he sees in your eyes.

“i mean ‘no’,” he repeats, his mind set. “ya ain’t comin’ with me.”

your heart sinks for the second time, the pain and confusion swirling inside you like a storm. you swallow hard, your eyes stinging with the onset of tears once more. “that’s it? just ‘no’? you’re not even going to consider it?”

“there ain’t nothin’ to consider,” his jaw clenched once more and he sighs heavily, as if the question pained him just as much as it did you. he brushes a hand through his hair, tucking it behind his ear as he bites down on his lower lip. “i can’t have ya gettin’ hurt.” his voice is quieter this time.

you stand there frozen as you watch daryl continue on to where his motorcycle was parked by the front gates, unable to comprehend the way in which he was acting. as if you hadn’t just spent the entire night making yourself sick over whether or not you wanted to go with him or stay behind at the commonwealth, all while he was sound asleep beside you.

daryl’s heart is heavy as he walks away from you, every step feeling like he was dragging anvils behind him, but he forces himself to remain stern, to stay strong in his decision. he was doing this for you. he had to.

you follow behind him, watching as he swings himself onto the bike and settles into the leather seat, “i know how to handle myself, daryl – you of all people know that.”

“that ain’t the point,” he snaps back.

“then what is the point?” you throw your arms up and let them fall back to your sides, your emotions beginning to get the better of you once again, but daryl wasn’t having any of it. “daryl, please… i want to come with you,” your voice cracks and you take a deep breath in trying to keep yourself in check but only failing.

the sound of your voice cracking breaks him, the pain in your words physically stabbing at his heart. but he couldn’t back down now, not after already making up his mind. he’d never be able to live with himself if something were to happen to you and all because he agreed to let you go with him. he had already almost lost you a handful of times, he didn’t know how much luck he had left and he sure as hell wasn’t ready to find out.

he looks away from you, avoiding your eyes and shakes his head, “no.”

you reach forward to place your hands on top of his as they lay on the handlebars of the motorcycle, “i can’t… i can’t be away from you. not again. not even if that means giving up our home and everything else we were building here. i want to be with you… please.” you take in a shaky breath as silent tears begin to roll down your cheeks.

daryl’s hands clench beneath yours, the gesture betraying his internal struggle. he can feel the weight of your words, the weight of your pain and your love for him. his heart aches, conflicting with the resolute part of him that was telling him to just start the motorcycle and ride off before he eventually gave in.

he lets out a heavy sigh, his expression conflicted and pained as he finally turns to look back up at you. seeing the tears streaming down your face breaks something in him.

“i’m… i’m doin’ this for your own good,” he says, the words sounding hollow even to his ears.

you shake your head, clamping your teeth down on your bottom lip in an attempt to stop the sobs that were clawing their way up your throat, but there’s no use, “that’s bullshit.”

he flinches at your words, his defences crumbling under the weight of your accusation. he knows you know him too well, that you can see through his excuses and facades. he takes in your tear-stricken face, the sight like a dagger to his heart. he can see the desperation in your eyes, and it’s tearing him apart.

his own eyes start to sting, his nose burning with the beginnings of tears. he opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out. no words could explain how he was feeling in that moment, the conflicting thoughts and emotions raging within his mind and his heart.

he can’t take it anymore, the sight of you crying, the weight of his own guilt, the pain of his decision. he lets go of the handlebars, his hands coming up to cup your face, his fingers wiping away the tears rolling down your cheeks. he looks deep into your eyes, torn between loving you and trying to protect you.

he presses a kiss to your forehead. it’s soft and gentle, full of worry, but painful. he just wanted to do the right thing by you. he didn’t want you out there with him, he needed you here. he needed you safe. you would be safe with the others, and he knew carol would look after you.

he holds the kiss against your forehead a moment longer, his eyes squeezed shut as he tries to memorise the feel of your skin against his lips. when he pulls away, his eyes slowly open, looking at you with a thousand words left unsaid. he wants so desperately to just hold you, to keep you safe in his arms forever. but he can’t.

“so that’s it then?” you ask, your voice so small through your tears.

“m’sorry…” is all he manages, the words tasting like poison, but his mind and heart refuse to budge. “i just… i have to do this alone.”

“you really expect me to just go about my days knowing that you’re out there all alone? constantly worrying if you’re okay, or if you’re even alive?” your throat was burning with emotion, your eyes stinging as you try to maintain it. the thought alone of something happening to daryl was making you feel sick.

each of your words feels like a knife to his heart and he feels like a fool for being the one to cause you this much pain. he wants to tell you that he’ll be fine, that he’s strong and can keep himself safe… but the truth of the matter was, he had no idea what was going to happen the second he stepped outside the gates of the commonwealth, or if he would be okay. he was all too well aware of the fact that the thought of leaving you behind was as terrifying to him as it was to you.

“i’ll be fine,” he says anyway, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your cheeks. he wanted to give you some sort of reassurance, no matter how small or how little he actually believed it. he just needed you to understand that this was something he needed to do and that he knew how to look after himself well enough, but you see right through him.

“we both know you can’t promise that,” you whisper as you pull out of his touch. “not really.”

daryl can feel the distance between the two of you growing already with each second that passes, his heart aching and his head pounding all at once. your words only add to the guilt and the pain that he’s already feeling, knowing that he can’t give you the real reassurance you need. he swallows hard, trying to keep his own emotions in check.

deep down he knows he can’t promise something, that at that moment, he wasn’t even sure of himself. he could see the questions, the realisation, the hurt swirling in your eyes as you stared up at him, silently pleading for him to contradict you, to tell you that it wasn’t true.

“i can try,” is all he can muster and your heart feels like it’s going to collapse in on itself. you knew daryl better than anyone, better than he knew himself, and you knew he was being sincere, but that didn’t stop the doubts and insecurities you had about him leaving. nothing would ever make you feel better about it.

“please…” he suddenly grabs your hands again, holding them tight in his own, not wanting to lose the feeling of your touch, of your skin against his. he could already feel it slipping away – feel you slipping away – and the distance growing further between the two of you. “please… just… trust me,” he practically pleads, his voice soft and his gaze filled with helplessness.

you look down at your hands wrapped in daryl’s, the touch feeling so familiar yet so foreign at the same time. it just serves as a painful reminder that he really was leaving. your own features are shaky as all you can do is accept his words with a nod, another tear rolling down your cheek as you press your forehead to his.

his eyes flutter shut as you rest your head against his, each tear that you shed causing the ache in his chest to grow even more. he can feel the resignation in your gestures, the way you submit to his decision, even if deep down you didn’t agree with it.

he savoured the feelings of you against him, eyes closed, his hands holding onto yours as if he were clutching on to the last shred of you that he had. he wanted to keep you here, in this bubble, forever if he could. and in that moment, he swears to himself that no matter how long he’s gone for, or how far away he ends up, he was going to come back for you, no matter how hard or how much time it took.

and he was going to keep that promise.

[sapphic-kpop-fics]

Challengers (Hirai Momo x Reader x Park Jihyo)

Kind of challengers inspired, Dancing instead of tennis, smut and fluff. Top!Momo, Switch!Jihyo,

You had known your friends Momo and Jihyo for a while, they had started as your dance students who were already best friends but you soon become close friends. Though the lines blurred between friendship and something else, lingering touches when showing dance moves and stares shared through the mirror when rehearsing but not with just one, both of them, like they were competing for your attention, who will win the title of being yours. The tension shared was so intense you had thought they wanted to fuck each other instead of you, though that still could be true.

This weekend was a dance competition your team was competing in, the hotel rooms being low and the lack of funds led you the three of you sharing not only a room but a bed, it was a big enough bed that could fit you pretty comfortably if you cuddled together and none of you thought that was a necessarily bad idea. It was the night before your competition and Momo had found some alcohol so the three of you were sitting on the floor in a circle drinking and talking, well flirting. The shorts you’re wearing rode up on your thighs which Momo’s eyes fixated on as soon as you sat down, Jihyo was more subtle only glancing every now and then.

“So have you guys ever like, hooked up?” You ask out of nowhere, the alcohol getting in the way of filtering your words. The two women were obviously shocked by the question, their mouths hung open slightly as they looked at each other.

“Uh-no.” Momo finally states.

“Why?” Jihyo speaks up now.

“Just curious, i mean you have this weird tension so.”

“Wh- what?”

“Tension?”

They both speak at the same time.

“I just can’t tell if you hate each other or want to fuck each other.”

The girls look at each other as if deciding if they want to reveal their thoughts.

“Well, honestly, we both want to fuck you and have kind of been challenging each other, who can get your attention and such.” Jihyos cheeks are flush as she speaks and you can’t tell if it’s from the alcohol or her confession.

“Oh.” Is all you say, butterflies in your stomach. You were attracted to them both for sure, but having them here suddenly confessing to competing for your attention made you shrink.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“No, you didn’t. I’m just thinking.” You tell Jihyo as she got more flustered, you think of how to deal with the situation, your mind thinks of kicking one of them out and choosing for good or maybe just leaving them alone in the room but you settle on the final idea before you abruptly stand and sit on the edge of the bed staring at the girls who’s eyes never left you spreading your legs a bit with your hands resting behind you, “what are you waiting for? You said you both wanted to fuck me right?” You raise an eyebrow at the pair who look at each other before eagerly standing and taking their places on the sides of you.

Even as you’re giving them both their chance they’re still waiting, wanting you to choose who you want first so they could have a winner in their little competition. You decide on kissing Momo first as she was closer to you and more confident but you tangle one hand in each of their hair and bring them close to you. You part from Momo after a minute, saliva connecting you before Jihyo smashes her lips into yours obviously needy from the site that unfolded in front of her. Her kiss is messier, her tongue pushing past your lips and tangling in yours. Momo occupies herself by kissing your neck, leaving a few marks that she knows you’ll yell at her for later when you have to cover them up for competition.

When you part from Jihyo you look at them both, their eyes lidded and cheeks pink. Your hands still tangled in their hair you push their heads until their lips join in a kiss, they are shocked at first but soon an underlying need took over them as they made out, at first you just watched getting more turned on but then you left kisses on both of their necks making them moans into each others mouths. You eventually lay yourself in the middle of the bed, your movement distracting the girls enough for them to part and look at you. You felt like prey being hunted, a trophy in a competition and it was exhilarating.

“Take off your shirt.” Momo says, a soft yet dominating tone, as she crawls over lay next to you.

You oblige, of course. While undressing you don’t even notice Jihyo who has laid on your other side and is kissing down your jaw while her hand now glides over your bare stomach and chest leaving goosebumps in its trail, pinching your nipples as her fingers made their way to them. Momo was doing the same on the other side but her hand ventured lower onto your thigh, which would brush against your center every other stroke.

“Can I take these off?” Jihyo asks as she toys with the waistband of your shorts.

“Please”

“So needy.” Momo mumbles as she kisses right below your ear.

Jihyo takes your shorts off, your underwear coming with it and you suddenly feel very exposed. A blush takes over your face and your body tenses slightly, not going unnoticed by either woman.

“What’s wrong?” Jihyo asks, the concern seemed genuine.

“I’m just.. the only one with no clothes on.”

The girls share a look before chuckling a bit, both shedding their clothes to match you before retaking their places.

“Who do you want first?” Momo asks, a confidence in her voice that’s makes it clear she thinks you’ll say her, while Jihyo is simply looking at you with a plainer stare as to not sway your decision with her wary face as she did earlier.

“Both.” You decide, “you know team work.”

“Team?” It’s clear by Momo’s tone and the raise of her eyebrow that she wanted to be able to win whatever was happening between her and Jihyo.

“Unless you just want to stop?” You challenge, starting to raise up from your spot on the bed.

“That’s not necessary.” Jihyo says almost too quickly, placing a hand on your chest and pushing you back down and placing her lips on yours. Momo makes herself busy placing dark marks on your chest while her fingers ghost along your thighs causing you to shiver and her to smirk.

“Want me to touch you?” Her voice is deep as she whispers into your ear.

“Please.”

Her fingers finally brush against your center, moving up and down slowly.

“So wet, you’ve been thinking about this haven���t you?”

You just nod as you let out whimpers at the movements of her fingers, Jihyo was now bringing her lips to your chest, her tongue wrapping around your nipples.

“Tell me. Did you think of just one or both of us?”

“Both.” You answered without hesitation, it was true you had dreams about the both of them, separately and together just as you were now. You can feel Jihyo smirk against your skin as she looks to Momo, a look in her eyes that clearly says “I told you she wants me too.”

“Dirty girl.” Momo rasps out with a chuckle as she quickens the circles she’s making with her fingers. The sounds you’re making get louder, echoing off the walls a bit Jihyo squeezed her thighs together as she listened which Momo noticed, “Hyo, baby, why don’t you sit on that pretty face while I take care of our girl?”

The tone of her voice and the little pet name made you question again if they were truly just friends, Jihyo’s eagerness to sit up doesn’t help your thoughts.

“Is that what you want?” Jihyo asks before she follows Momo’s directions. As you nod she takes her place hovering over your mouth, her hand going to your hair while you hold onto her thighs pulling her down to meet your tongue.

“Fuck” she hisses at the contact.

Momo crawls down so she’s level with your center, her fingers never stopping their circling though she replaces them with her tongue quickly, moving her fingers lower to slide inside of you at an agonizingly slow pace. Your moans vibrate against jihyo causing her to moan louder, grinding down against your mouth. You reach your orgasm quick enough with Momo’s skilled fingers working inside of you and the sounds coming from the girl sitting on you, Momo takes her mouth away from you but keeps her fingers moving inside of you, sitting up to grab Jihyo and kiss her, your cum practically dripping from her lips, the sounds Jihyo makes now comes from the taste of you now in her mouth.

“Our girl tastes so good doesn’t she?” Momo says into Jihyos ear, who nods too focused on her building pleasure, her thighs shaking a bit as she rides your face, “you’re making a big mess you know?” Momo says as she looks at where she’s riding your face.

“Shut up.” Jihyo growls, their rivalry obviously still alive enough, but it’s obvious she enjoys the effects of Momo as cums soon after, leaving even more of a mess on you. By the time she lays beside you, you could barely breathe not that you minded, it doesn’t help that she also immediately pulls you into a kiss as she lays there.

“Let our girl breathe.” Momo says, pushing Jihyo back so she disconnects from you.

You can’t tell if it’s from lack of air or exhaustion or the pure pleasure you felt with the two but your eyes were heavy lidded, and your chest heaved as you caught your breath.

Jihyo of course didn’t let that be the only round, as she felt it was unfair that only Momo got to touch you and you thought she made a fair point. Though you end up cumming more times than you can count, the pairs competitive nature coming out in the form of how many orgasms they can give you. It’s only the next day when you regret letting them have you in any way, when you’re in warm ups before your competition, legs trembling as you stretch.

[biteofcherry]

Happy Wetnessday 💦

Let's play with your professor universe but put you in it.

You're the new chief of staff and so far you really like your new position but you can't help but notice that almost all professors are insanely handsome. At a staff party you get to know some of them better, which of the three flirts offer to get to know each other better in their office to you take follow there?

International relations professor Ari, who has been eye fucking you all night

Law professor Andy, who straight up told you he'd like to fill you and watch it drip from between your legs for the rest of the party

Criminal defense professor Lloyd, who told you he's not a one pump chump like the others here and would ruin you forever

So who do you follow? Or are you holding out for another professor?

xoxo Wetnessday anon 💦

Wetnessday Anon, my beloved naughty enabler! 💖😁 Hope November treats you well!

When you started this ask with let's play with professor I was instantly giddy 🤭 Let's play with him, let him play with us, yesss.

Picking Ari would be my usual way, especially with the recent fluffy Ari 2.0 look that Chris is showing. He's always a great choice, so flirty and seductive and irresistibly hot. You know that he'd get you all worked up just from the way he looks at you, how he says your name, how he licks the rim of his glass suggestively while holding your gaze.

Professor Lloyd would be a wild choice, but perhaps that's what you actually need? You're dealing with those stuffy professors on a daily basis, who have sticks so far up their asses and know clit only from a poster in biology class, but would sooner die than touch it. Lloyd is not one of them. He's incorrigible, playful and so crass, but damn it wets your panties.

But right in the middle of my period I'm horny for some strict, mean fucking and professor Andy gives me that vibe 🥵

He looks fluffy and charming, can act that easily, but when it comes to taking your body, he's a mean, merciless fucker. He told you he wants to bend you over his desk, fill you and watch it drip out of you.

Your brain ceased to function for a split of a second, no coherent words coming to the front to object.

When you finally opened your mouth, about to scold him for the inappropriate behavior, Andy put his finger to your lips.

"Save it," he reprimanded you, instead. "You may think it's best to play the part of a proper lady, but what you need is to be taken hard and filled like a cumhungry slut."

Your pussy clenched; heat flooded you.

You still managed to frown at him, but your eyes shone with pleading need. It blew your pupils wide, glazing your gaze as Andy pushed you down to your knees in the semi-darkness of his office.

He ordered you to open your mouth, not an ounce of soft coaxing in the way he gripped your jaw and tilted your head as he fed you his thick cock.

"Such a needy slut and yet so untrained." Andy hummed when you gagged.

"Don't worry," he cupped both sides of your head and held you in place, showing no mercy as you choked and your eyes teared up.

"I'll train you."

He promised the same later, when you were hanging off his massive desk, your body limp and twitching as he twisted his thumb into your tight asshole while your pussy leaked his cum.

With a growl of approval, Andy watched a thick dollop of white cum spill out as he smacked your ass. You moaned, your hole clenching tightly around his thumb.

"What a dirty girl," he mocked, twisting the digit in your rim.

"Stuffed full of cum and getting turned on from her tight ass being played with. You're making a mess in my office." Andy's low grunt resounded right next to your ear as he pinned you down with the weight of his body, his beard grazing your tear-streaked cheek.

"Leaking your juices and my seed onto the floor and my shoe. You're gonna be a good little cumslut and clean it all."

[mechaknight-98]

Sure Why Not? (NSFW) FT Sakurako Okubo

Operator’s Notes: Finally got around to writing a toku actress, and its best girl Hammie.

Dinoabareru tightened the hood of his jacket against the cool night air as he stepped into the bustling festival grounds. He’d only planned to pass through, maybe grab a few skewers of takoyaki and catch a glimpse of the lanterns glowing along the river. Yet, the vibrant energy of the crowd had pulled him in, and he found himself weaving through the stalls, captivated by the music and laughter filling the air.

As he reached for his wallet to pay for a matcha taiyaki, he heard a familiar, light laugh behind him. Turning around, he spotted a small group of fans gathered around a stall decorated with retro tokusatsu posters. His gaze landed on a young woman at the center of it all, her face framed by a radiant smile that seemed both familiar and surreal.

It was her. Sachika Nitaa.

He’d spent countless hours watching her take down villains and save the day, her character’s fearless attitude only matched by her cute energy. She’d starred as a hero in Zenkaiger, and even now, seeing her in person, she exuded the same infectious energy that had always captivated him on screen.

Dino’s mind raced, and he was about to turn back to his taiyaki to avoid making a fool of himself when Sachika’s eyes landed on him—and on his shirt. She blinked, recognition lighting up her face.

“Hey! Nice shirt!” she called out, nodding toward his Zenkaiger tee with a grin. “Good taste. You’re a fan, huh?”

Dino laughed, feeling the heat rush to his cheeks. “Uh, yeah. I'm a huge fan, actually. Never thought I’d run into you or any cast member wearing it,” he replied, scratching the back of his head in embarrassment.

Sachika chuckled, stepping a little closer. “Well, what do you think? Do I look like a real-life hero?”

Dino was speechless, then managed, “Honestly… even cooler. Didn’t think that was possible.”

“Ah, flattery and a Zenkaiger shirt? You really know how to get on my good side,” she teased, eyes twinkling. “I’m Sachika, by the way. But something tells me you already knew that.”

“Dinoabareru,” he replied, gathering his courage to extend a hand. “But you can call me Dino.”

She took his hand with a smile that felt both natural and electric. “Well, Dino, you want to show me around? I could use a festival buddy.”

Dino smiled and said, “Sure why not?”

They strolled through the festival side by side, her laughter and warmth making each moment feel like a scene from one of his favorite shows. As they shared stories and challenges over festival games, Dino couldn’t shake the feeling that this night was the start of something unforgettable. Sachika or “Sachi” as she liked to be called found herself bumping in and “accidentally” touching Dino throughout their time together. By the time it was time for him to go Dino was smitten, but honestly, Sachi was easy to fall for with her big eyes expressive voice, and charming personality.

As Dino was getting ready to leave Sachi said, “Hey wanna see a kamen rider set tomorrow?”

“Sure why not?”

Dino arrived on set the next day, feeling a mix of excitement and nervous energy as he navigated the bustling filming environment. He spotted Sachi in the makeup chair, her hair styled to perfection, with a warm, radiant smile lighting up her face as she caught sight of him.

“I’m so happy you made it!” she called out, her eyes sparkling as she took in his slightly out-of-place awe at the production setup.

Dino grinned, feeling a bit bashful. “Yeah, they let me in after I said I was your guest. Guess you’re a pretty big deal around here.”

Sachi chuckled, leaning in a little. “Oh, you know me. Just your everyday superhero.” She winked, reaching out to brush a bit of lint off his shirt. “You clean up pretty well, Dino. Maybe you’re the one stealing the show today?”

He laughed, his cheeks warming. “Me? Steal the spotlight from the great Sachi Nitaa? Not a chance.”

As they shared an easy smile, the director, an intense older man with a sharp eye for detail, happened to pass by. He froze mid-step, his gaze zeroing in on Dino as if struck by a sudden inspiration.

“You there! You, the tall guy!” he called out, his tone both jarring and full of conviction.

Dino blinked, a little taken aback. “Uh… me?” he asked, glancing around to be sure.

“Yes, you!” The director’s eyes lit up with excitement. “I knew I was looking for someone just like you. You’d make a perfect Rider!”

Dino glanced at Sachi, who gave him an encouraging nod and mouthed, “Go for it.” Intrigued, Dino shrugged and said, “Sure… why not?”

Before he knew it, he was being whisked off to hair and makeup, where they worked quickly to get him camera-ready. Luckily, another member of the crew was experienced with lighting for darker skin tones, ensuring he looked his best on screen. He emerged a short while later, dressed in sleek, tailored clothing that fit the mysterious vibe they seemed to want for his character.

As he walked back to the set, the director caught up with him, pulling him aside to explain the role. “Alright, listen up. This series is called Kamen Rider Evo. The premise? A mad scientist pits Kamen Riders against each other, each with unique abilities. You’ll play ‘King,’ the scientist’s first-built Rider. Your powers are based on flight, agility, and intelligence. Your motif is darkness and Dragons. King acts as a neutral party—he’s not purely good or bad, but powerful and calculating. You’re the one other Riders either look up to or fear.”

Dino raised an eyebrow, impressed. “Sounds intense. So, King’s kinda… a wildcard?”

“Exactly!” the director said, clapping him on the shoulder. “King has his agenda, and everyone knows he can’t be easily controlled. You’ve got the look, the presence—just channel that, and you’ll be great.”

As the director moved on to handle other preparations, Sachi sauntered over, looking him up and down with an approving grin. “King, huh?” she teased. “I could get used to that.”

Dino laughed, giving her a playful bow. “Then maybe you should address me with a little more respect, don’t you think?”

“Oh, Your Majesty,” she replied with a mock curtsy, her smile flirtatious. She leaned in close, lowering her voice to a whisper. “Just remember, I outrank you in real life.”

Dino smirked, holding her gaze. “Guess I’ll have to work hard to catch up.”

Sachi’s laugh was soft and genuine. “Well, maybe I’ll give you some acting tips… if you can keep up with me.”

They shared a moment, their playful banter easing any lingering nerves Dino had. As the crew prepared for the next scene, Sachi gave him an encouraging pat on the arm, her eyes twinkling. “Good luck, King. I’ll be watching from the sidelines—and don’t worry, I’ll be cheering you on.”

Feeling more confident than ever, Dino squared his shoulders. “Thanks, Sachi. With you rooting for me, I think I’ve got this.”

With a shared smile, he took his place on set, ready to step into the role of King. And as the cameras rolled, he couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe this whole thing—meeting Sachi, being pulled onto set—was the beginning of something exciting.

They pushed Dino onto the set where the other Riders were waiting in costume, ready to shoot the next scene. Dino took his place in the corner, watching as the director set the stage. He noticed he hadn’t been given a script—just a few character notes and a brief rundown from the director. It was clear this was a test to see how he’d embody the character on the fly.

The director called out, “And… action!”

Dino observed as Sachika and her co-star Sakurako Okubo started their argument. He could feel the tension building between their characters, each line delivered with fierce conviction. Sachika’s character, always confident and a bit reckless, stood her ground as Sakurako’s character, more reserved but intense, glared at her with growing frustration.

“Look, you think this mission is some kind of game,” Sakurako’s character spat, her voice tight with anger. “You’re putting us all at risk with your recklessness!”

Sachika rolled her eyes, a dismissive smirk playing on her lips. “Maybe if you could keep up, we wouldn’t have to take so many risks. Ever think of that?”

Sakurako narrowed her eyes, fists clenched. “I don’t know why you think this is a joke, but some of us are here to protect, not to show off.”

As the argument escalated, the director nodded subtly in Dino’s direction, signaling for him to make his entrance.

Dino strode forward, his posture calm yet commanding. He switched briefly to English, adding a touch of flair to his entry. “Ladies,” he greeted with a smooth, authoritative tone, then seamlessly returned to Japanese. “What seems to be the problem?”

Sachika and Sakurako both turned, startled, but where Sakurako’s character looked momentarily shaken, Sachika’s character recovered quickly. Sakurako felt a weird burning sensation in her chest but was also captivated by the way Dino moved through the scene. He drew attention not because of his stature or skin tone but the way he moved and talked. It was purposeful and decisive but could adjust and adapt.

“King?” Sachika asked, her tone guarded yet laced with curiosity. “What are you doing here?”

Dino raised an eyebrow, his expression a mix of humor and mild disapproval. “I was in the area. Thought I’d check up on you two.” He paused, glancing pointedly between them. “You know how the Doctor likes his reports on you all.”

Sakurako, regaining her composure, crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing at him.

"And you are?" Sakurako questioned pointed

Dino spun around to her his eyes narrowed as he spoke and his voice took on a surprising level of menace no one expected “King, the Doctor’s First Rider… and you’d better watch that tone,” He warned,

Sakurako stared coldly her voice more. “I don’t much appreciate being talked down to.”

King tilted his head, his expression shifting from mild amusement to something darker, almost menacing. “Is that so?” he replied, his voice dropping to a soft, dangerous tone that sent a chill through the room. “Watch that attitude, little one. You’re not the only one with a purpose here, and I don't think your bark matches your bite.”

He let the words hang in the air, the quiet menace in his tone compelling even the crew watching to hold their breath. But in an instant, his expression softened, and he turned back to Sachika with a lighter, almost teasing smile.

“Please, ladies, take care of yourselves,” he said, the warmth returning to his voice. “We have so much left to accomplish.”

He gave a small bow, his eyes lingering on Sachika’s character, then pivoted smoothly and exited the scene.

As the director called “Cut!” Sakurako glanced at Sachika, both of them a bit stunned by Dino’s seamless performance. She nudged Sachika with a grin. “Not bad for someone they just pulled in off the street, huh?”

Sachika nodded, impressed. “Yeah, I think he might actually have a knack for this. Did you see the way he switched from charm to… whatever that was?”

Sakurako laughed, lowering her voice as Dino walked back over. “Oh, I saw. You’re sure he’s a guest and not secretly a pro?”

Sachika smirked, glancing at Dino’s way as he approached. “Guess I just know how to pick ‘em.” She raised her voice so Dino could hear. “Nice work, King. Think you’re ready for another scene?”

Dino grinned, clearly enjoying himself. “Anytime, ladies.” He dipped his head, giving them a mischievous look. “Just don’t get too comfortable—I might start stealing the show.”

The three of them shared a laugh, and as they moved on to the next take, the energy between them felt natural, charged with a new dynamic. Dino’s chemistry with both Sachika and Sakurako added depth to his character, leaving everyone on set eager to see how he’d evolve in the next scene.

After Dino’s scene wrapped, the Director motioned for him to come over, his eyes bright with a mix of excitement and intensity. He led Dino to a quieter corner of the set where a few of the creative team members were gathered, several of whom were already discussing his impromptu performance.

“Dino,” the Director began, nodding in approval, “you did well. Better than well, actually. But I want you to really understand this character—and this season.” He gestured for Dino to sit as he leaned forward, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone, as though sharing a secret. “This isn’t just any season of Kamen Rider. It’s the anniversary season, and we’re pushing boundaries with it.”

Dino raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Anniversary season? So, like, bringing in references from past seasons?”

“Exactly,” the Director replied. “We’re drawing on elements that fans know and love, and giving them something that will feel familiar yet fresh. But with King, we’re tapping into a specific theme that has defined some of the most powerful, dangerous Riders in the series.” He leaned back, studying Dino. “Are you familiar with what we call the ‘berserk’ forms?”

Dino’s mind instantly went to some of the most intense Riders he’d seen—those transformations where the hero becomes more monstrous, pushed to the brink by the raw power of the suit. “Yeah… like the skeletal dragon form in Saber? Or Ark-One from Zero-One?” he ventured, watching the Director’s expression.

The Director’s eyes lit up. “Precisely. Those forms that Riders can barely control, the ones that threaten to consume them. These forms are powerful but volatile. They symbolize the darkness and chaos that lie just beneath the surface—a side of the hero that isn’t fully within their control. This season, we’re building King around that motif.”

“King’s motif is the dragon,” he continued, leaning forward. “A symbol of strength, wisdom, but also raw, untamed power. The dragon embodies that dangerous line between control and chaos. King is the first Rider the Doctor created—a prototype that was never meant to be contained. He doesn’t follow the same rules as the other Riders. In many ways, he’s their shadow, a force they admire but can’t quite trust.”

Dino nodded, the picture becoming clearer. “So, he’s more of an anti-hero? Like, he doesn’t fit into the traditional hero mold?”

“Exactly,” the Director said, his eyes intense. “King was created with powers that push him beyond what the others can handle. His berserk form, his dragon form, is something that even the Doctor can’t fully control. Think of him as a walking test for the other Riders. They see his power and think, ‘Could that happen to me?’ And King knows this—he’s aware of the danger he represents.”

The Director leaned back, gesturing with his hands to paint the vision of the character. “Throughout the season, King will have moments of alignment with the heroes, but he’s always on the edge of slipping into that berserk state. His relationship with them is complex—there’s a level of respect, but he’s a reminder of what they could become if they lose control.”

One of the producers chimed in. “We’re taking visual cues from the iconic berserk forms,” she explained, showing Dino a concept art sheet. There was King, his armor dark and jagged, with fierce dragon motifs running along his chest plate and a skeletal dragon claw design on one gauntlet. His eyes glowed an eerie, almost hypnotic red. “Fans love that duality—the hero’s fear of his own power. So with King, we wanted to embody that fully.”

Dino took it all in, feeling the weight of the character settle over him. “So… King’s almost like a dark mirror for the other Riders?”

The Director nodded, satisfied. “Exactly. He’s their worst fear and a cautionary tale. This season will explore the Riders’ relationship to power—how much they can handle before it consumes them. King represents that line between hero and monster, reminding them that it’s a fine line indeed. And with his dragon theme, he has both the nobility and the fury of the myth.”

Dino let out a low whistle, already feeling a connection to the character. “I think I get it. King isn’t just a Rider—he’s a test, for them and for himself. Every time he steps into that power, he’s risking losing a part of himself.”

“Exactly,” the Director said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Channel that. Remember, King is never truly safe, even from himself. And the audience will love it because, deep down, they know what’s coming.”

As the team moved to prepare the next scene, Dino stood, feeling the full weight of King’s character. He was more than ready to step into the role, bringing to life a Rider who wasn’t just powerful, but a reminder that every hero carries a shadow—and sometimes, the greatest battle is with the one within.

As the crew reset the cameras and prepared for the next shot, the Director pulled Dino aside once more, his expression focused yet eager.

“Alright, Dino,” he began, folding his arms as he explained the next scene. “This time, we’re throwing you into a fight sequence—against the two major antagonists of the season.”

Dino’s eyebrows shot up, a grin spreading across his face. “Already? No warm-up fight or anything?”

The Director laughed. “No warm-up for King. The Doctor’s first creation, after all—he’s not someone who backs down. Think of this as King testing them, figuring out their strengths and weaknesses as he plays with them.”

Dino nodded, starting to visualize the scene. “Alright, so what do you need from me? I’ve got some experience in stage combat, but nothing as intense as Kamen Rider.”

“That’s perfect,” the Director said, clapping his hands. “We actually want to see what you do naturally. King isn’t a polished, predictable fighter—he’s a force of nature. What we want to capture here is a rough, almost primal approach to combat. Think of it as a King unleashing his power without caring much for form or finesse. Every move should be efficient, brutal, and with a certain… wildness.”

The Director motioned toward the stunt team, who were preparing the set with mats and safety gear. “In this first take, just go in and react. Show us what King’s instinctive fighting style looks like. We want to build a physical language for King—a movement style that’s uniquely his, something that says ‘dragon’ without being too obvious.”

Dino took a deep breath, already feeling the character’s energy building within him. “So, like a dragon—powerful but unpredictable?”

“Exactly. King doesn’t just attack; he overwhelms. Imagine him watching his opponents, sizing them up like prey. When he strikes, it’s with total commitment, no hesitation,” the Director said, demonstrating with his hands. “And then we’ll work with the suit actor to carry that physicality into King’s Rider form.”

Dino nodded, visualizing the raw, instinctive movements the Director was describing. “Got it. So, I’m aiming for something primal, controlled, but with that ‘edge’ where it could go berserk at any moment?”

“Exactly,” the Director replied, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. “Remember, the antagonists are strong too, but they’re strategists. Your job as King is to push them off balance, and keep them reacting to you, not the other way around. You’re in control—at least, for now.”

One of the fight choreographers approached with a few pointers. “For the first run, focus on power over precision. We’re looking for broad, sweeping strikes, but every hit should feel like it’s meant to end the fight. And don’t hold back on the intensity. We want to see how much physicality you bring before we fine-tune anything.”

Dino took a deep breath and nodded, feeling the excitement bubbling up. This was unlike anything he’d done before, and he could feel the thrill of embodying a character who fought with such raw power. As he stepped onto the set, he saw the two actors playing the antagonists take their places, each of them sizing him up with a mix of amusement and challenge.

“Alright, Dino,” the Director called out, his voice filled with anticipation. “Let’s see what King can do.”

The two other actors were already in their Kamen Rider suits which worried Dino at first but he decided to listen to the director.

"So you challenge me?" Dino said slowly before running towards one of the adversaries. He shoulder-charged him careful not to hit the stunt actor and as he fell Dino caught him before headbutting him on the floor. Following this Dino turned to his other opponent and did a flashy roundhouse kick that caused the other person to roll to the ground with a practice grace. This led to the two opponents creating space for Dino and he said,

"you dare challenge me I am the original god of destruction. You all are a pale imitation a simulation of me."

Dino's tone and inflection sent chills through the Cast and Crew who were present. Rako found herself attracted to how well Dino fell into his role and made her proud of him despite their only recent meeting. The crew watches as Dino throws up his Bahamut rider medal and starts his transformation sequence. The producers watched in awe as Dino did a cross between Kamen rider Black Sun, and Ryuki's transformation poses before he yelled Henshin with the menace of a Rider killer. The director cuts and the crew is stunned. He approaches Dino and says, "That was perfect how did you know to do all that? each move felt like it was taken out of the annals of all of Tokusatsu's history."

Dino shrugged as he explained, "Well that was the goal. I wanted to incorporate Ultraman, and a little Super Sentai as well. So I threw in a couple of moves from Ultraman Orb's fighting style and AbareKiller's style."

The director turned to the producers and they knew that he needed to be a reoccurring character. after that scene Dino, Sachi, and Rako as she liked to be called were all going through hair and makeup figuring out their next move.

Sachi turned to Dino and asked, "Hey you wanna grab some food?"

Dino shrugged as he said once again, "Sure why not?"

The three of them settled into a cozy corner booth at a local cafe, the hum of conversation and the scent of fresh coffee filling the air. Sakurako had insisted they try this spot, saying it was her go-to between shoots, and judging by the friendly waves from the staff, she was a regular.

Dino stirred a sugar cube into his coffee, glancing around. “Feels a little surreal, you know? Just yesterday I was watching you two on screen, and now here we are, having coffee like we’re old friends.”

Sachi chuckled, leaning back in her seat. “It’s not as glamorous as it seems, is it? Just three people trying to keep awake for the next scene.”

Sakurako sipped her iced latte, eyes sparkling with curiosity as she looked over at Dino. “So, Dinoabareru… Did I get that right? How’d you end up here, in all of this?”

Dino smiled, a little bashful. “Honestly? It’s kind of a whirlwind. I only came to Japan recently, and I never thought I’d find myself on a Kamen Rider set. I grew up watching tokusatsu shows, so it feels like I’m living a dream. Guess the director just saw something in me.”

Sakurako exchanged an amused glance with Sachi. “Well, that ‘something’ must be pretty special. It’s rare for him to pull in someone out of nowhere.”

Sachi nudged Dino, laughing. “Yeah, you just have that ‘hero energy.’ The kind of guy who jumps headfirst into anything without a second thought.”

Dino laughed. “I guess that’s fair. My friends back home would call it being a little reckless.” He took a sip of his coffee, then asked, “What about you two? How did you get into acting?”

Sachi’s eyes softened as she thought back. “I guess I was one of those kids who always loved performing, even if it was just for my family. When I got older, I was lucky enough to land some roles, and it just snowballed from there. Tokusatsu really was the dream role, though. My inner child was thrilled to be in Zenkaiger.”

Dino smiled, nodding. “That explains the energy you bring to your characters. It’s like you’re really having fun.”

Sakurako grinned, leaning forward. “For me, it was all about kicking down doors, literally and figuratively. I grew up watching these shows, and I wanted to be a hero so badly. When I finally landed a role, I felt like I’d made it.” She glanced over at Dino. “So, do you have any plans now that you’re in this world? Sticking around?”

Dino shrugged, a thoughtful look crossing his face. “I’m honestly still figuring that out. I feel like I’ve barely scratched the surface here, and this chance is something I’d never want to take for granted. But yeah, if I could make a career out of this… well, let’s just say I’d be over the moon.”

Sakurako leaned back, her fingers tapping the edge of her glass thoughtfully. “It’s tough, you know. Long hours, intense training, the pressure to keep up with fans’ expectations… But if you love it, it’s worth it.”

“Especially when you work with people who support you,” Sachi added, smiling warmly. “Like today, when you just jumped into that fight scene. You really made the character your own.”

Dino’s cheeks flushed a bit. “Honestly, I was just trying not to make a fool of myself. But working with you both made it easy. I felt like you were right there with me, helping me find my footing.”

Sakurako raised her glass. “Here’s to new friends, then! And to King—may he have many more epic scenes.”

They clinked glasses, laughter filling the air. As they settled back, Dino felt a sense of belonging he hadn’t anticipated. As they relaxed Dino felt Sakurako's eyes linger on him. her gaze was focused but intense like a star. Dino found it strangely comforting.

Later that evening, Sachi, Dino, and Sakurako found themselves strolling through the city streets, their laughter and easy conversation filling the air. Sachi walked between them, but she couldn’t help noticing the way Dino and Sakurako exchanged glances whenever the other wasn’t looking, or how they seemed to lean slightly closer as they talked.

Sachi smirked, slowing her steps just a little, letting the two fall slightly ahead of her. As they passed a street vendor, she took the opportunity to drop back even further, leaving Dino and Sakurako walking side-by-side in the soft glow of the street lamps.

"So, you two look good together,” she said, letting the words slip out casually as they stopped by a bench.

Dino and Sakurako turned to her, a little too quickly, and both started speaking at once.

“Huh? No, we’re just—”

“We’re just chatting! I mean, friends, right?”

Sachi folded her arms, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Right, ‘friends.’ You know, I’ve been around long enough to recognize when there’s a little spark.”

Dino scratched the back of his neck, looking anywhere but at Sakurako. “Come on, Sachi. We just met. Besides, I doubt I’d be her type anyway.” He laughed, though it sounded a bit uncertain.

Sakurako looked down, her cheeks faintly pink. “Sachi, you’re making it sound like… like I…” She trailed off, suddenly bashful. “We’re just colleagues.”

“Colleagues?” Sachi said, giving them both a sly grin. “Alright, alright. But I’ll say this—you don’t look at all your colleagues that way, do you, Rako?”

Sakurako’s face reddened, and she gave a small, nervous laugh. “Well… he is different, I’ll admit. There’s something kind of refreshing about him.”

Dino turned to Sakurako, eyes widening. “Really?”

Sachi beamed, delighted with her matchmaking efforts so far. “See, I knew it! Okay, look. We’re all done for the day, right? So why don’t you two go grab some food or something? I actually have to get up early tomorrow,” she lied, clearly trying to give them an out.

Dino blinked, caught off guard. “You’d be okay with that, Sachi?”

Sachi laughed. “Of course! Look, I’m not going to get in the way of some fun bonding time. I know chemistry when I see it.”

Sakurako looked at Dino, then back at Sachi. “Are you really leaving us alone?”

“Absolutely. I think you two need it. Besides,” she added with a wink, “sometimes the best scenes happen off-camera.”

As Sachi left, waving them off, Dino turned to Sakurako, his heart pounding a little harder than he expected. “So… still up for grabbing a bite?”

Sakurako’s eyes sparkled, her earlier shyness replaced by a soft smile. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

As Sachi waved them off and disappeared around the corner, Dino and Sakurako found themselves alone on the bustling evening street. An electric silence settled between them, and both seemed to sense that this moment, somehow, was different from their usual conversations on set.

“Alright,” Dino said with a lopsided smile, breaking the silence. “So, what’s your favorite kind of food? Since we’re out here, might as well go for something good.”

Sakurako’s eyes lit up, and she tilted her head thoughtfully. “Hmm… I’m actually in the mood for ramen. There’s this small shop around the corner that’s incredible. It’s not fancy, but they make everything from scratch, and it’s open late.”

“Ramen it is, then,” Dino replied, eager for an excuse to spend more time with her.

They strolled to the ramen shop, the low hum of the city providing a comfortable backdrop. As they took their seats, Sakurako started talking about her early days as an actress, how she’d gone through hundreds of auditions, each rejection a stepping stone that had finally led her to roles like the one she was playing now. Dino listened, nodding and asking questions, genuinely curious about her journey.

“And what about you?” she asked, resting her chin on her hand as she looked across the table at him. “What’s your story? How’d you end up on set today?”

Dino chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, I’m not exactly a trained actor, that’s for sure. I just came to meet Sachi, honestly. Then, the next thing I knew, the director’s throwing me into costume and calling me ‘King.’ It’s surreal, but… kind of amazing too.”

“I have to say, you pulled it off really well,” she said, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “It didn’t seem like it was your first time on camera. There was this… natural intensity to you.”

Dino shifted slightly, the compliment hitting harder than he’d expected. “Thanks. I guess I just imagined myself in the role and let go of everything else. But you make it sound like it was something special.”

She looked at him earnestly, nodding. “It was. You really brought something unique to the character, even in such a short time.”

Just then, their bowls of ramen arrived, and they both eagerly dove in, the warmth of the broth adding to the cozy atmosphere between them. For a few minutes, they ate in comfortable silence, exchanging small smiles across the table.

After they’d finished, Sakurako leaned back, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “I have to admit, it’s kind of refreshing spending time with someone who didn’t expect to be here. Sometimes, the industry can make you feel… boxed in. Like you’re always playing a part.”

Dino nodded thoughtfully. “I get that. It’s why I think I’ve never really considered acting as a career. You know, that fear of losing yourself in a role or feeling like you’re just… wearing a mask all the time.”

Sakurako’s gaze softened as she looked at him. “But isn’t it kind of freeing, too? You get to step outside of yourself and see the world through someone else’s eyes. Even if it’s just for a moment.”

Dino smiled, realizing how much he was starting to appreciate her perspective. “When you put it that way, it sounds kind of amazing.”

Sakurako seemed to take a deep breath before speaking again, her voice a little more tentative this time. “So… would you do it again? You know, acting?”

Dino considered her question, his gaze drifting to the street outside as he thought about the thrill of embodying King, of becoming something larger than life. But as he glanced back at her, he realized that a big part of his answer came down to moments like this—connecting, learning, finding something meaningful in someone else’s company.

“Yeah,” he said finally, meeting her eyes. “I think I would.”

There was a charged pause, the air between them thick with unspoken words. Sakurako bit her lip, her gaze flicking down for just a moment before she looked back up at him. “I’m glad to hear that, Dino. And… I’m glad we met, even if it was by chance.”

Dino’s heart raced as he felt the pull between them grow stronger, and before he could second-guess himself, he reached across the table, his hand brushing gently against hers.

Sakurako’s eyes widened slightly, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she smiled, her fingers curling around his.

They stayed like that, hands intertwined, in the soft glow of the ramen shop, a silent promise forming between them—of more shared moments, of untold stories, and perhaps, of something even deeper than either of them had imagined. When Dino looked at her though her eyes held a hunger that unlocked a door in him that held a unique ferocity to it. Sakurako found this look intense but it unlocked a part of her she didn't know she had.

She felt a warmth in her abdomen as her body rebelled against her, and the two found themselves in a torrid kiss. After they finished up at the restaurant the couple raced to Dino’s “apartment” As soon as he closed the door they were all over each other. Dino started Kissing Rako but as the heat intensified between them he found himself and his mouth hovering around her neck kissing. Rako felt the burning sensation in her abdomen reach a fever pitch, then ripped her shirt off and yelled “fuck me while you suck my tits,” Rako moaned as Dino latched onto her breast as she slowly stripped Dino of his.

“Fuck you like my tits,”

“Oh fuck your tongue feels so good,”

“I can feel you throbbing,”

“Fuck put it in” Sakurako heaved as Dino buried his cock inside of her. Dino flips Sakurako over and relentlessly starts spanking her ass as he watches it jiggle while he pounds her. Rako moans.

“Fuck! Your cock is tearing my insides up, keep going.” Rako says in between moans. Dino nods as he yanks Rako up and brings her in for another kiss Rako finds her tongue invading Dino’s mouth causing Dino to bite then tip gently. Rako moaned as Dino's hands wandered her chest and ass as he continued to pound her. "Fuck." she moans as his rod digs into her cavern.

"keep going." Rako demands, and Dino speeds up causing Sakurako to cum.

"Oh fuck" she repeats as Dino reduces her to a fuck doll while he chases his release. As her mind turns to mush all she can focus on is how his cock is warping her insides to his girth.

"Fuck use me." Sakurako moans as she nears another climax. Dino continues to ravage Rako until cums inside her causing to have another orgasm. The two bask in the afterglow before Sakurako gets up.

"Okay so what are we?" she asks pointedly

Dino shrugs and says, " I am not sure. Since...Well this is the farthest I have ever gone with a girl before."

Sakurako's eyes widened then she said, "You were a virgin?"

Dino nods and apologizes for any sloppiness that might have occurred. Sakurako dismisses his reservations at once. The couple falls asleep shortly after that little chat.

The next morning, Dino stirred awake, blinking against the soft morning light filtering through his curtains. He glanced over to find Sakurako still curled up beside him, her hair slightly tousled and a peaceful expression on her face. With a soft smile, he gently shifted, careful not to wake her as he got ready. A short while later, she joined him, rubbing sleep from her eyes as they got ready to head out.

Together, they made their way to Mrs. Okubo’s place, where Dino waited as Sakurako dashed inside to change into some new clothes for the day Hi. After a few minutes, she rejoined him, looking bright and refreshed. They wandered through the streets, eventually stopping at a cozy breakfast spot where they shared a simple but satisfying meal of miso soup, grilled fish, and rice.

As they ate, they chatted about their plans for the day, the ease between them growing more natural and playful. Sakurako found herself laughing at Dino’s quick wit and warm sense of humor, and Dino couldn’t help but be charmed by her genuine, grounded nature.

Soon enough, they arrived at the studio, where Sachika was waiting with an expectant grin. She took one look at the two of them and smirked. “Well, well, if it isn’t the lovebirds,” she teased, crossing her arms and giving them a knowing look.

Sakurako rolled her eyes, but a faint blush crept over her cheeks. “It’s way too early for your dramatics, Sachi.”

Dino chuckled, giving Sachi a small salute. “Morning, Captain.”

Sachi laughed and then motioned for them to follow her. “Alright, come on, Mr. ‘Dragon.’ Let’s get you geared up for the season.” She led them down the hallway to wardrobe, where a team of costume designers and assistants were waiting with Dino’s outfits and gear for his character. He tried on several costumes, each one tailored to fit the image of “King,” the powerful, slightly unpredictable character he’d be playing.

Sakurako couldn’t help but admire him as he stepped out in each new costume, her eyes trailing over the details of his outfits, the way they accentuated his imposing presence. She gave him tips on adjusting his movements in the heavier armor and offered a quiet but encouraging thumbs-up whenever he seemed unsure. Sachi watched the two of them with an amused smile, clearly enjoying the chemistry that had blossomed between them.

In between costume changes, Sachi leaned over to Dino with a raised brow. “So, how long are you in Japan for, anyway?”

“Oh, one year,” he replied casually as he adjusted the cuff on a dark, regal-looking jacket.

“One year?” Sakurako glanced over in surprise, unable to hide her curiosity. “Did you get work out here?”

“Nope, it’s just an extended vacation,” he explained, a small smile playing on his lips. “I write comic books and have five graphic novels that sold decently back in the States, so now I have the chance to take it easy for a bit.”

Sakurako blinked, her mouth slightly open in surprise, while Sachika just let out a low whistle. “Huh, there’s always something new with you, isn’t there?” Sakurako remarked, clearly impressed.

Dino shrugged, giving a modest grin. “It’s been a fun ride. I like telling stories that mean something to people, you know? And hey, if it means I get to hang out in Japan for a year, even better.”

Sachika grinned, giving Sakurako a knowing look. “Sounds like you two are going to have a very interesting year.”

“Don’t start, Sachi,” Sakurako warned, though a faint smile tugged at her lips. She turned back to Dino, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “So what kind of stories do you write? I mean, if you’re here for a whole year, we might as well get to know the guy under the Rider suit.”

Dino chuckled, scratching the back of his head. “Well, it’s mostly action and fantasy. I love exploring character journeys, like what people go through when faced with really tough choices. My latest one was about a hero who doesn’t realize he’s being manipulated by the very people he thought were his allies.”

Sachika nudged Sakurako, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Sounds like your kind of story, Rako. You love that deep, emotional stuff.”

“Hey, I can appreciate a good story arc!” Sakurako protested, laughing as she lightly shoved Sachi.

As they shared another laugh, Dino felt a warmth in his chest, realizing just how comfortable he’d become around them. And as he looked at Sakurako, he couldn’t shake the feeling that this “extended vacation” might be the best decision he’d ever made.

Later that afternoon, as the three of them wrapped up for the day and headed out of the studio, Sachika was practically bouncing with excitement, her face lit up with a mischievous smile.

“Hey, you two!” she called, catching up to Dino and Sakurako. They turned to see her grinning like she was up to something.

“What’s up, Sachi?” Sakurako asked, narrowing her eyes playfully.

“So,” Sachi began, drawing out the word as she rocked on her heels, “how would you two feel about going to a Le Sserafim concert with me?”

Dino raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Wait, you’re serious? Like Le Sserafim Le Sserafim?”

Sachi nodded enthusiastically. “Yep! I got tickets from Sakura herself—she’s an old friend of mine from a few years back.” She leaned in closer, her tone conspiratorial. “I was going to go with a few other people, but they bailed last minute, so I figured, why not take you two lovebirds?”

Sakurako flushed, rolling her eyes at the nickname, but a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “Well, that does sound pretty fun,” she admitted, glancing over at Dino. “What do you think?”

Dino grinned, giving Sachi a thumbs-up. “Sure Why Not?”

“Perfect!” Sachi clapped her hands together, practically giddy. “It’ll be a blast. I’ll meet you two at the concert venue later, yeah?”

That evening, the trio found themselves standing in the packed crowd of the concert hall, surrounded by the buzz of anticipation as fans cheered, holding light sticks and banners for Le Sserafim. Dino glanced around, taking it all in, the energy of the crowd already getting him pumped. Beside him, Sakurako looked equally thrilled, her eyes bright as she took in the atmosphere.

As the lights dimmed, the stage lit up with vibrant colors, and Le Sserafim appeared, the crowd erupting in cheers. The music started, the bass thumping through the floor, and Dino found himself getting swept up in the energy.

Halfway through the show, Sachi nudged them both, leaning in to shout over the music, “Come on, you two! Dance with me!”

Sakurako laughed, letting herself get pulled into the rhythm of the music, and Dino joined in, moving to the beat alongside her. As they danced, Sakurako shot Dino a playful grin, grabbing his hand to spin him around. He laughed, spinning her back, and they found themselves locked in a gaze that felt electric, the flashing lights of the concert amplifying the spark between them.

The music shifted to a slower beat, and without thinking, Dino placed his hands on her waist as she rested hers on his shoulders, swaying with him in time. They danced close, neither of them pulling away, and the unspoken tension between them grew with every beat. Sakurako’s cheeks were flushed, and she bit her lip, a small, teasing smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

“You’re pretty smooth, you know that?” she teased, looking up at him.

Dino grinned, giving her a playful shrug. “I’ve got my moments.”

As the song ended and the stage lights dimmed, the two pulled back, still caught up in each other’s presence. Sachi watched from the side, looking thoroughly amused as she leaned over and whispered, “I knew you two would hit it off.”

After the concert, Sachi led them backstage, where they met up with Le Sserafim. Sakura greeted Sachi with a big hug, her smile warm as she introduced the group. Kazuha’s eyes lit up as she spotted Dino, recognizing him instantly.

“Dino! It’s been a while since Coachella!” Kazuha said, her eyes bright with excitement.

Dino grinned, giving her a quick hug. “Kazuha! Good to see you again! I didn’t know you’d remember me.”

“Are you kidding? You’re unforgettable,” she laughed, nudging him.

Sakurako’s gaze flicked between Dino and Kazuha, her brow furrowing slightly as she watched the easy rapport between them. Trying not to look too obvious, she settled herself beside Dino on the couch, crossing her legs and subtly placing her hand on his, her fingers gently tracing small circles on the back of his hand. The gesture was quiet but unmistakably possessive, her silent way of making her claim.

Dino glanced down, feeling the soft touch of her fingers, and when he looked back up, he caught her gaze, a smile tugging at his lips. Kazuha seemed to notice too, raising an eyebrow with a knowing smile, clearly amused by Sakurako’s subtle display.

Sachi chuckled, nudging Sakurako. “Guess you’ve got your claws in him already, huh?”

Sakurako just gave a small, satisfied smile, glancing sideways at Dino. “Maybe,” she replied, her tone light yet undeniably pleased.

They spent the rest of the evening chatting, sharing stories, and laughing over past experiences. The connection between Dino and Sakurako was unmistakable, and even with Kazuha’s friendly teasing, it was clear to everyone that Sakurako’s quiet claim was solid and unshakable. As they headed out that night, Sakurako and Dino walked side-by-side, a comfortable silence settling between them, both feeling that something special had quietly but firmly taken root.

"So do you wanna be together ?" Rako asked hesitantly.

Dino smiled and said, "Sure Why Not?"

[ashblooddragons]

My Heart, My Ruin (Prolouge/?)

22 ac Kingslanding

Maegors pov

I could hear my good-sister's screams well into the night. I finally gave up trying to fid sleep once the hour of the owl came, I climbed out of my bed and went to where I knew my brother would be waiting until his wife had given birth to their child. She’s been in labor since yesterday at the hour of the wolf, surely she should have had the babe by now.

When I walked in I saw mother and father standing next to each other whispering as my brother sat in a chair sobbing.

“What’s wrong, she’s been in labor since yesterday, shouldn’t the babe be here?” I ask as I rub the drowsiness from my eyes. 

I watch mother and father look at each other silently having a conversation with only their eyes. Probably deciding if I should know or not. But it is not them who answers but my sniffling brother.

“The babe won’t come, the Maesters think Alyssa’s contractions are too weak.” Aenys sobs out.

“These are just guesses my son, they are giving her a concoction now to strengthen them.” Father says rubbing Aenys back as he sobs into his hands. 

I look at Mother and see a scowl on her face, she never liked how Father treats Aenys compared to me says he “treats him like some infant looking for their Mother’s teat.” and in this moment of watching his brother sob so openly, he wonders if his mother is right.

“What would happen if the concoction doesn’t work?” I ask looking from my brother to my Mother.

“Then we will have to choose who lives, the babe or the Mother.” Mother responds in a cold calculating tone. This only makes Aenys sob more.

“But it will not come to that, we have the greatest Maesters in all of the seven Kingdoms we have nothing to fear.” Father says trying to reassure Aenys again as he glares at Mother.

Mother scoffs and takes a sip of her amber gold wine, she doesn’t like it as much as Dornish red but ever since Rhaenys death she won’t touch anything to do with the Dornish. She often says. “They took my sister with that scorpion arrow, I suppose I am glad they had horrible aim and Meraxes did not perish either. If this, me not drinking their wine is the only way I can show how I hate them, then I will.” 

Mother and Father say Meraxes had seen the arrow coming, she had tried to dive so it wouldn’t his either her or Aunt Rhaenys, but she hadn’t noticed quick enough, and the arrow had split her in two. Meraxes has been inconsolable since her rider’s death, but Father has said he swears he sees her flying above Kingslanding over the last moon, as if looking, searching for something. This is odd as she much prefers the sulfur rocks and salty air of Dragonstone compared to Kingslandings stench and filth. 

I can not blame the dragon though, I do as well, I’d much rather be on our ancestral home instead of this filth-ridden city.

We all flinched, well besides Mother, when we hear a bone-chilling scream from Alyssa, and then it all went quiet. I hear Aenys sob more thinking his wife as perished until we hear the cries that only a healthy babe could make. 

Aenys bolts out of his chair and rushes to his wife, Mother, and Father not far behind them. I sigh in relief knowing I can finally get some much-needed sleep. 

The next morning I go to visit my new niece, when I enter I see my good-sister asleep on the birthing bed with new sheets dorning it so the stench of blood isn’t as pungent in the air. I turn and look at my brother who is smiling down at a bundle in his arms.

Are babes truly that small, Alyssa was huge and the bundle doesn’t even reach the length of my brother's forearm.

I’m cut out of my musing when Aenys looks at me smiling waving me over trying to keep quiet as to not wake his wife or the babe.

“Come meet your niece, Rhaella.” He says as he rests the babe into my arms making sure I hold her right.

When I look down I see her looking up at me with the most gorgeous lavender eyes I’ve ever seen, they take my take my breath away. I shake my head trying to gain my bearings again. 

“She’s so small, is she supposed to be this small?” I ask as I move some of the blanket to see a swarm of silver-white curls atop her little head.

“I had asked the Maesters the same thing, they said it’s normal for the first to be small.” He responds touching the tufts of hair upon her head. 

I nod not taking my eyes off hers, I couldn’t look away even if I wanted to. I sit on a plush armchair staring at her, staring at the very being who seems to keep my heart pumping now, the very thing I will always adore and cherish, the one thing, one person I could never hurt. I knew in this moment she would be the very focal point of my heart, but she would also be my very ruin.

Special thanks to my bestie @sugutoad for making the Header for this fic!!! I swear I'd be lost without you Girly!

@sugutoad @ilikefelines @baybaybear1 @sachaa-ff @mmogurl @classicsimpforaaronwarner

[hikakuriyyu]

Scream men as a soft yandere (headcanon)

⁎ warnings: jealousy, implied !murder!, posessiveness, female!reader. not proof read.

⁎ summary: how (modern!au) Billy, Stu, Mickey, Charlie and Ethan would act if they were a yandere.

⁎ author note: thank you guys for all the support ! i got one more headcanon and i'll move on from scream. i am writing a anon request right now ! :)

Billy Loomis

If you're out with friends, Billy will casually ''drop by'' to check in, telling you he just wanted to see you. He'll stay close to you, keeping you by his side at all times. If anyone starts to take up too much of your attention, he'll try to put your attention back to him, reminding you that he's there.

While you are out with your friends, you laugh at one of the jokes they made while Billy was sat next to you. A few moments later, he slips his arm around your waist. He flashes a fake smile to your friend before turning to you, ''I missed you.'' He stays close for the rest of the conversation, his hand lingering as a silent warning to anyone nearby.

When you're upset or going through a rough time, Billy will be right there, pulling you close and whispering that he's the only one who understands you, the only one you can be with. He'll listen to you and basically gaslight you into thinking he is the only one for you.

After you vent about your day, Billy gently takes your hand and looks into your eyes. ''I'm here. You don't need anyone else... right ?'' his voice is warm, and the way he looks at you makes you feel like he is indeed the only one who truly understood you. It's comforting. Exactly what he wanted.

He'd always make sure to give slight warnings to people he saw as a threat to your relationship. Perhaps a guy who was staring at you for too long or when somebody gets too close to you for his liking. He'd be very discreet with the warnings he'd give.

When your friend touched your shoulder in a friendly way, Billy catches up with them afterward, blocking their path with a casual smile. ''I’d keep some distance from her if I were you.'' he says in a low voice, his eyes turning cold. The message is clear. No one gets close to you without his permission.

Stu Macher

Stu would always be around you, seeking your attention and approval. He'd act like your personal hype man, getting over excited about everything you do. If he feels like you're not paying attention to him, he'd playfully sulk or even resort to exaggerated antics to keep all eyes on him and you. Because in his mind, no one else deserves your attention except for him.

Stu shows up unexpectedly at your favorite hangout, waving and grinning as he calls out your name. He right next to you, wanting you catch him up on everything he missed. If anyone else tries to talk, he abruptly interrupts them, making sure he keeps your attention on him. ''C'mon, it's way more fun when it's just us.'' he says, giving you that familiar smile.

Stu would have very bad mood swings. He'd be his usual goofy self, but suddenly turn possessive if he someone is trying to come between you. His cheerful nature would return as soon as you give him reassurance, but anyone watching might feel uneasy at how quickly his mood changes when it comes to you.

You're chatting with someone when Stu suddenly pulls you aside, his expression a little darker than usual. ''What's so interesting about her ?'' he asks, trying to play it off with a laugh, but there's a hint of edge in his tone. Once you reassure him, he relaxes, grinning and wrapping an arm around you, back to his usual self as if nothing happened. But you catch the dirty look he gives the person you were talking to before you leave.

Stu would joke around about ''keeping you all to himself'' or make comments about others ''getting in the way'' but there would be a hint of seriousness in his tone. While he'd brush it off as a joke, his possessiveness would be clear, especially when he laughs just a little too long.

Stu drapes an arm over your shoulder, watching as someone tries to approach you. With a laugh that's just a bit too loud, he mutters, ''They better watch themselves, huh ? Wouldn't want anyone getting in our way.” He grins, leaving you wondering if that was really joke.

Mickey Altieri

Mickey would have a habit of watching every little detail about you. He'd know your class schedule, your favorite spots, and even memorize your favorite foods. If you happen to change your plans or mention something new, he'd be the first to know. He'd never directly admit it though.

You're surprised when you mention a new movie you wanted to see, and Mickey immediately pulls two tickets from his pocket with a casual grin. ''Already got us seats.'' he says smoothly, as if it's a total coincidence. But the way his smile tells you he's has been paying very close attention. Maybe closer than you realized.

Mickey would always be on edge when it comes to your safety. He'd insist on walking you home, sending texts about every 5 minutes, and questioning anyone who gets too close to you. If he senses someone is giving you unwanted attention, he'd intervene. And the person he said he'd ''talk to'', mysteriously disappears the next day.

Walking together after class, you notice Mickey glancing over his shoulder every few minutes, his arm wrapped firmly around your waist. When he noticed someone was looking at you for too long, his grip tightens on your waist. ''Some people just don't know how to mind their business.'' he murmured to himself, already planning to take care of the person.

Mickey would be very intense in his affection, doing anything to prove how much he cares. He'd bring you gifts or show up unexpectedly just to remind you he's there. But beneath the charm, there'd be vulnerability in his gestures. Like he's afraid of losing you. His entire happiness relies on keeping you close.

One evening, Mickey shows up at your door with a small gift bag and that charming smile of his. Inside, it's filled with little things that only someone who really listens to you would know you love. He shrugs casually. ''Just thought you could use a pick up.'' His eyes are so fixed on your reaction that it feels like he's studying every expression, almost as if he needs the reassurance of seeing you happy.

Charlie Walker

Charlie would secretly collect stuff from things you had lying around or things you've touched. A pen you dropped on the grond, your hairtie, even a napkin you used. He'd tuck these away like small treasures, creating a hidden shrine that only he knows about.

You leave a study session at Charlie's place, and after you go, he carefully picks up the pencil you left behind. With a soft smile, he adds it to a small, hidden box in his room, where he keeps little things that remind him of you. He runs his fingers over the items, each one carrying a memory that makes him feel closer to you.

Charlie would stalk on you. Like following your social media or always knowing where you are. He wouldn't comment much, just liking posts But he is always aware of what you're up to, but never enough to be obvious about it.

One night, you post a picture at a new restaurant. Within moments, Charlie texts you, asking casually if you're enjoying the food. ''Didn't know you liked that place. Let me know if you want company next time !'' he writes, acting as though he just happened to see it. You don't know, but he already knew exactly where you were.

He'd frame his actions as concern, subtly making you rely on him by helping you with homework, offering to lend his favorite books or movies, or even inviting you over under the guise of study sessions. Over time, he'd make it seem like he's the one who understands you best, all while gently isolating you from others.

You mention struggling with an assignment, and Charlie offers his help, insisting he has all the right resources. As you work together, he subtly dismisses advice from other classmates, saying things like, ''They just don't get it like we do.'' His calm reassurance makes you start to rely on him more, and bit by bit, you feel like he's the only one who truly understands your needs.

Ethan Landry

He would always be by your side, no matter where you go. Whether you're at school, walking through a crowded hallway, or sitting in a library, his presence is constant, a shadow that never leaves.

You're sitting outside, trying to get some work done, when Ethan slides into the seat next to you, his shoulder brushing yours. He doesn't say anything at first, just sits there, his hand resting inches from yours. When you glance at him, he smiles softly, eyes fixed on you. ''You okay ?'' His voice is calm, but his gaze lingers, as if he’s waiting for you to give him your full attention. It's like he doesn''t want to leave your side, not for a second.

Ethan is the perfect boyfriend in public: soft, gentle, and attentive. He'll bring you your favorite coffee, ask about your day, and always make you feel cared for. But behind closed doors, his thoughts are far more twisted. If he sees anyone he doesn't like you to be around, he would go as far as killing them. Just for you.

Earlier, a guy from your class was annoying you on purpose, trying to get a reaction from you. Ethan glared at him, his fists tightening in anger. A dark thought crosses his mind. “Don't worry, he won't bother you again.'' The sweetness in his tone doesn't reach his eyes. They're colder now, calculating. You don't realize it, but he was planning something much more sinister than you would ever expect.

Behind closed doors, Ethan would have photos of you, recordings of conversations, even small things like your handwriting on scraps of paper, all kept in a hidden journal. It's his personal shrine, a way to relive every interaction with you in obsessive detail. If anyone ever found it, they'd realize just how deep his obsession is.

You enter Ethan's room for the first time, and something feels off. His walls are covered with posters, but there's one section with pictures of you, some taken from far away, others shots from class or during lunch. You freeze, your heart racing. Ethan notices your reaction and walks over, a soft smile on his face. ''I just thought they were pretty.'' he says casually, as if it's nothing. ''Don’t worry. You're safe with me. I'm just making sure I never forget you.”

[bteezxyewriter12]

I Still Want You

Pairing- Yoongi x Named Reader

Word count- 4.8k

Includes- Angst, smut, fingering, pussy eating, cum eating, missionary, soft sex, love making, multiple orgasms, fluff

Tag List- @mingtina @jaxminnie @yeosayang @delightfulmoonbanana @tannie13 @y00nzin0 @marsstarxhwa

@borntowalkaway @soulseobi05 @kpop-bambi @seokwoosmole @meowmeowminnie @realisticnotes @effielumiere @svnbangtansworld @insomniacatiny @marvelfamily3000 @amyz78 @blueie-things

Masterlists- check out for more fics

📝Masterlists 📝BTS Masterlist 📝Yoongi Masterlist

J POV

She stands against the barricade looking up at him as he performs

She sings along softly to the song, tears falling slowly down her face

He's smiling, happy, having so much fun running around on stage and performing for his ARMYS

And while she misses him so much she's glad he's happy

Even if she's miserable

She was going to surprise him by coming to this show in Seoul, the last leg of his tour

She was going to scream his name, be like a fan girl, hold a stupid sign so he could see her

Then she'd go backstage after the concert was over

She used her own money to buy floor tickets so it could be a total surprise

But she was the one surprised when he broke up with her right before the tour started

Two years together and he just ended it, saying he doesn't feel like the relationship is going anywhere

Saying he wasn't feeling her anymore

It came completely out of left field because up until that point he was acting normal

Then he dropped the bomb

She thinks he met someone else

She suspects he cheated but she doesn't have any proof

But she wouldn't put it past anyone

Doesn't matter anyway because the result is the same

She's heartbroken and without him

She couldn't return the ticket and she didn't want to

She came super early and scored a spot in the front right against the barricade so she can see him clearly

She watches him come down the stairs near her section of the floor, making his way towards them

She knows this is part of his concert when he comes close to ARMYS, high fiving them and taking one lucky fan's phone for a selfie

The ARMYS around her are screaming at the top of their lungs, holding their hands out for him to touch

He smiles as he jokes around, going to reach for their hands then pulling back, then reaching again, laughing the whole time

He's right there, so close to her

She tries to make herself as small as possible, moving her head down so he doesn't see her

She knows that him seeing her will change nothing and she doesn't want to deal with the awkwardness of the momentary recognition

That's not why she came

She came to silently support him and see him in his element for the last time

He just had to pick her section out of all of them

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees him take the phone of a girl literally two people away from her

If he turns his head he could see her face and she's panicking, hoping he won't

He takes a selfie with the phone, hands it back then continues to touch ARMYS hands

She moves her arms, pulling her hood of her hoodie up, trying to hide her face as he goes along the line of ARMYS, blessedly passing by her

She lets out a sigh of relief, then finally moves her gaze up

He's climbing back on the stage, holding the mic and rapping into it

Hugging her body she just watches him perform

--------------------------------

Yoongi POV

'She's here', he thinks as his heart beats into overdrive, his staff drying his sweat, handing him clothes to change into

She came

He knows her from anyone, recognizes her anywhere

He didn't notice her until she started putting her hood up

That caught his eye because he wondered why she was doing that

It's sweltering in the area

And he noticed she was the only quiet one, the only one not holding her hand out

The only one not looking at him, her head down

So as he passed her, he tried to get a good look at her

It's her

His jagi

The girl he regrets leaving

The girl he realizes he loves with all his heart and can't live without

He thought his feelings for her changed

After all they weren't seeing much of each other, especially with him working so much on his album and getting ready for the tour

He didn't feel like he missed her, didn't feel the need to drop everything and see her

He thought he didn't need a girlfriend and he broke up with her the day before he left for the start of his tour

He remembers her crying but she didn't put up a fight

She asked him to stay, to try to work it out, but when he said no, she left it alone

She told him she loves him and he didn't say it back

And he's regretted everything since that day

He fooled himself

Because total communication shutdown is completely different from the way their relationship was going

He still called her everyday, still heard her voice, sometimes video called and saw her face

And he still saw her, maybe twice a week

It wasn't much but it was something

Physical contact, kisses, hugs, sex, cuddles

Then it went radio silent because he made it that way

After the first show, he realized he couldn't call her to share his excitement

He wouldn't hear her asking him to tell her all the details, wouldn't see her face on the video call as he told her all about it

He wouldn't hear about her day and how she was with him gone

He wouldn't hear her beautiful voice he loves so much

He panicked, completely regretting what he did

That he hurt her

That he gave away the best thing in his life

He was waiting to come back to Seoul so he could talk to her

Apologize and beg her to take him back

He had to do this show and two more for the next two nights then he was going to text her

But she's here now, she didn't give up on him and he can't wait

He has to try to get her back tonight

Stepping on stage, he immediately goes to her side of the arena as his song D-Day starts

He sings into the mic, scanning the crowd for her, trying to remember where she was

He has to go back to the center of the stage to rap the first verse but once he's finished, he runs back to the side of the stage, pretending like he's hyping up the crowd when he's really looking for her

He spots her and his heart pounds, clearly seeing her

She's looking up at him, sadness in her eyes but she's still mouthing the words to the song, her head moving to the beat

She's the only one not going crazy, not screaming or trying to get his attention

But she has it

She has all of it

He just has to get through the rest of this song, the next and the vlive back at his apartment then he can run to her

And he will

--------------------------------

J POV

I wipe my eyes as Yoongi says bye on the vlive

Of course I watched it

I wanted to see him, hear him for the last time

Shutting the computer off, it's done

It's over

He's really not part of my life anymore

That though brings a fresh wave of tears

I thought that maybe there was still a chance that we could get back together

But it's clear that's not happening

From watching clips of concerts, seeing the way he was on stage today, how happy he is in the vlive, it's clear he doesn't miss me

And why should he?

He's everything, I'm not

I just wish it didn't hurt so much, wish I didn't feel like I was dying without him

I don't know how to even begin getting over him

I love him with everything in me and I can't stop

I wish I could just turn it off

But unfortunately I can't

Standing up, I leave my bedroom and go into my living room, grabbing the remote for the TV

I'm not tired and I just need something mindless to watch

It's not like I've been sleeping well for awhile anyway

I took off tomorrow because I didn't know how long the concert was gonna be so I have all night to be awake

Sighing, I turn the TV on and start channel surfing

--------------------------------

My doorbell startles me awake

When did I fall asleep?

What time is it?

Checking my phone, I see it's only been half an hour since I sat on the couch

I must have just dozed

Stupid bell, I could of gotten a good night's sleep if it hadn't woke me up

The bell rings again and I stand up, grumbling to myself about who the fuck it is so late

And getting ready to ream them

Unlocking the door, I twist the door knob and pull the door open, my insult dying in my throat

I blink my eyes to make sure I'm seeing what I think I'm seeing

"Yoongi?", I whisper, confused

Am I still dreaming?

He looks at me, sadness in his eyes and his whole demeanor, a stark contrast from how he was on stage and in the vlive

"You came", he says softly

I am so confused

"Uh, what?"

"You came", he repeats, stepping inside, his arms moving around me as he hugs me, his face burying in my neck

My arms immediately go around him, it feeling utterly good to hold him again even though I'm completely baffled

"You came"

"Came where?", I ask, wanting to know what he means by that

He lifts his head, looking down at me, his fingers pushing my hair back from my face, "To the show. You still came. After everything. After hurting you. You still came"

He saw me?

How?

I went through great lengths to make sure he didn't see me

I didn't want to be seen

"I knew it was you", he says, "You were the only one standing still, the only one pulling a hood up in a sweltering crowd, the only one not trying to touch me"

Well shit

"I'd know you anywhere jagi", he whispers

My eyes meet his at the name he used to call me all the time

The name I loved to hear

"I...I didn't want you to see me", I whisper, "I just...I bought the ticket before we...to surprise you when you came back from tour. I still wanted to go, so I could see you perform one last time"

He shakes his head, leaning his forehead against mine

"Not the last time baby. Please, not the last time"

"Uh Yoongi", I start, "I'm uh...really confused. I haven't heard from you for months and you just show up, acting like....like..."

Like he loves me

Which is impossible as he made it clear his feelings for me changed

"Can we talk? Please?", he asks

I mean yeah

I kinda want to know what's going on

"Yeah", I answer, "Come to the living room"

He let's go of me so I can close and lock the door, then follows me the few feet to the couch

He sits right next to me, taking my hand, holding it tightly

Uh ok

"Jo, I'm sorry", he says softly, "I'm sorry I hurt you for no reason"

No reason?

Not loving me is a reason

He can't help how he feels

"I'm not following", I say slowly, "What do you mean for no reason?"

"What I mean is that I was so wrong jagi. So wrong", he answers, his eyes on mine, "I love you so much"

My heart starts pounding in my chest, a million thoughts in my head

The main one is 'what?'

"I just, I took you for granted baby. I thought I didn't need you because we weren't seeing each other much", he explains, "But I was so wrong. When I realized I couldn't call you, couldn't talk to you, couldn't hear your voice, couldn't see you, I knew I fucked up. I knew I was wrong and I love you with all my heart"

I take all this information in, shock entering my system

"Why...why didn't you say anything before tonight?"

"Because Jo, I didn't have the right to. I hurt you, made you cry, walked away while you were crying for me. You deserve so much more than a phone call of me apologizing and asking you to take me back. You deserve to have that in person. I deserve to beg you to take me back"

I shake my head, "You don't deserve that Yoongi. You don't. You don't have to beg for anything"

"But I will", he whispers, "For you, to be with you, I will"

"I don't want that Yoongi", I say

He never has to beg, I would never make him do that

While it hurt like hell, I understand where he was coming from

If he felt like he didn't love me, then what was he supposed to do?

Force himself to be with me?

That's wrong and would be so selfish of me to want that

"What do you want jagi?", he asks, "I'll do anything you want. Give you anything"

I hesitate

There's a few things I have to know

"I want you to be one hundred percent honest"

He nods, "I can do that"

Ok, here goes

"Did...did you meet someone else? Is that why you thought you didn't love me?"

"No", he says, shaking his head, "There was no one else. Just my stupid brain"

"Did you cheat on me and feel guilty?"

"No!", he exclaims, "Never jagi. I would never do that. I've never done that before. And I'd never hurt you like that"

I nod, satisfied with his answer for that

"How do you know what you're feeling now is real? How do you know you won't wake up tomorrow or in a few days and realize you were wrong again and you don't love me?"

This is what I'm scared of

Him leaving again

I don't think I can do that again

My heart can't handle it

He shakes his head, "My love for you is real jagi. I missed you so much while I was on tour. You were all I thought about, all I wanted to run home to. I felt like I was dying without you. I was going to wait until I finished the next two concerts to talk to you. But when I saw you in the crowd, I just....I couldn't wait. I need you Jo, I love you more than anything. You'll never know how much baby because stupid words can't encompass what I feel for you. You are my everything and I swear, I'll never be that stupid to let you go again. I swear"

I believe him

He has always been honest with me, never sugarcoated anything, never lied

Even when he was breaking up with me he was brutally honest about his reasons

So I know that when he says something, he means it

"Please jagi, please take me back", he whispers, "I swear, I'll do everything to make it up to you. Please jagi"

I reach out, moving my fingers in his hair, pushing it back off his forehead, "Yeah Yoongi. Of course naekkeo. I love you so much"

He gives me his gorgeous gummy smile, then his lips are against mine in a searing kiss

And I'm happy

--------------------------------

Yoongi POV

Her arms wrap around my neck, her lips kissing me back and I'm in heaven

I have my jagi back

I meant what I said to her

I'll never let her go again

I was an idiot once, never again

"Can I stay?", I ask, when the kiss ends

She nods, smiling softly at me

"Please naekkeo. I can't sleep without you"

I nod, knowing exactly what she means

"I can't either baby"

My sleep is always disturbed, tossing and turning when she's not next to me

I've never been so exhausted on a tour as I've been on this one

"C'mon baby", she says, taking my hand and leading me to her room

--------------------------------

"Yoongi", she moans, as I kiss her neck, her naked body trembling under mine, her hands tangling in my hair

As soon as we got into her room, I kissed her, our clothes went flying and here we are, touching each other everywhere

I missed her so fucking much

"Jo, jagi", I murmur, moving my lips down to her neck, kissing her

I'm so fucking happy to be in her arms

I feel like I'm right where I belong

With her

Spreading my kisses down her body, I lick her nipple, then take it in my mouth, sucking on it

"Yoongi", she moans, her hand squeezing my shoulder

I wrap my hand around her other boob, squeezing it, my fingers pinching her perky nipple

"Fuck", she groans

Switching to her other nipple, I suck on it, sliding my hand down to her cunt, running my fingers on her, feeling how wet she is

She's soaked

As I play with her nipple, I push two fingers in her cunt, feeling her suck them in

"Mm so tight baby", I groan, starting to pump my fingers in her pretty cunt

"Oh god Yoongi", she cries, shaking as I move my thumb against her clit, rubbing it as I fuck my fingers into her sweet pussy

I live for the feeling of her cunt throbbing around my fingers, hell, the feeling of her throbbing on anything on me- my fingers, my tongue, my cock

Every thrust I make sure I slam my fingers into her spot, making her cry out each time

I move back to her other nipple, licking and slurping around it, her hips moving, meeting my finger thrusts, taking them deeper

Her cunt throbs quickly and I know she's gonna cum soon

"Cum for me jagi", I murmur, thrusting my fingers in, flicking her clit and sucking her nipple at the same time

"Yoongi!", she cries, coming all over my fingers

"Yes baby", I urge her, watching the beautiful sight of her coming, "My best girl"

When she finishes, I pull my fingers out and move them immediately into my mouth, sucking her off them, moaning as I taste her again

So fucking good, I need more

I start kissing and licking down her body, wanting to get to her cunt quickly

I open her pretty legs more when I get down to her pussy, slowly sliding my tongue up between her slit

I moan, finally tasting her again and it's even better than I remember

She shivers when I lick up her cunt again

"My girl's so wet already", I murmur, her cunt soaking my face just the way I like it

"Yeah naekkeo", she moans, making me so happy to hear her call me that again, "You make me like this baby"

I know I do

And she makes me rock hard all the time

I take my time, going slow with long licks, making sure my tongue touches every part of her pussy, all the way to her clit

"Oh my god", she whispers, her legs shaking around my head

"Good baby?", I ask

"Mmmm hmmm", she moans, "So fucking good. I missed your tongue baby"

"I missed your pussy baby", I say between licks, rolling my tongue over her clit, the throbs sending pleasure down to my hard cock

As I eat her sweet pussy, I move my hands along her body, touching her soft skin, feeling it tremble under my fingers

"Yoongi", she whines and fuck, I didn't know how much I missed hearing my name in her voice

Sliding my tongue down, I dip into her hole, feeling her cunt suck my tongue in and clench down around it

"Mmm", I groan as she whimpers, "Fuck"

I fuck my tongue into her hole, her cream spilling into my mouth and I swallow the sweet cream greedily

Her hips move up on their own, pushing into mouth more, her hand plunging in my hair, holding on tightly

Her hole is so tight and throbbing, I can't wait to feel it around my cock again

Pulling my tongue out, I wrap my mouth around her clit, sucking softly

"Oh my god", she moans, her body shuddering on the bed, "Don't stop naekkeo"

I don't intend to

I suck faster on her pulsing clit with each move until I'm slurping on it, relishing having it in my mouth again

Her clit is hands down the best thing to suck on her body

"Yyy..Yoongi", she moans

She's close

I know how she sounds when she's close

"Gonna cum baby?", I ask, sucking desperately around her swollen clit

"Y...yes", she gets out, twisting my hair around her fingers

I want it now

"Good baby. Give it to me", I plead

"Yoongi, fuck Yoongi", she cries

"Fuck jagi", I moan, sliding my tongue in her coming pussy, her cream dousing it as I swallow, "So fucking good"

I keep slipping my tongue in and out of her hole, her pussy creaming around it so I can swallow all of her cum

I make sure her pussy is completely clean and I get every drop of her delicious cream before moving away

I move away, getting on the bed, on top of her

Pressing my lips to her neck, I kiss her slowly, into the spots that she loves and keeps her shaking as I run my fingers up and down her body

"I love when my jagi is sensitive", I mutter, "Love feeling your skin tremble jagi"

"Mm Yoongi", she whimpers, "Kiss me naekkeo"

I immediately crash my lips to hers, kissing her desperately

Her arms fly around my neck, as she kisses me just as desperately, her tongue down my throat, her body presses against mine, her legs wrapped around my waist

"Please jagi, can I be with you?", I ask between kisses

"Yes baby. Fuck yes", she answers, making me happy

Holding my cock to her hole, I push inside her slowly

Breaking the kiss, I drop my forehead on her shoulder and moaning so loudly as I push in

The familiar pleasure of her pussy sucking me in washes over me, making me shiver against her

Her tiny cunt spreads open just enough for me to slide in, clenching repeatedly, making the pleasure so intense

"Fuck Yoongi. Oh my god", she whimpers, her body arching into mine, her head pushed into her pillow, bliss all over her face

I groan as I bottom out, my head pressed against her spot, her hole spasming so good around me

Goddamnit she always feels so fucking amazing

So tight and so wet

Pressing my lips to hers, I kiss her as I slowly pull almost all the way out, then move back in

"Fuck", she moans

Moving slowly but hard and deep, I plunge into her pussy, making sure I hit her spot with each stroke, rubbing her clit with my pelvis, making love to my jagi

Showing her that she means everything to me

Her arms move around me, her hands running up and down my back slowly, feeling amazing, heat flooding every nerve where her fingers touch

"Yoongi", she whimpers

"Jagi", I murmur, running my fingers in her hair

I kiss her soft lips, loving the warm feeling that spreads through me from her kiss

She starts moving with me, her hips going up when I slide back in, making me go in deeper

Pleasure spikes through me as she squeezes my cock tighter than before, her pussy making pretty wet sounds as she takes me, creaming my cock so good

I slowly plant kisses all along her neck, touching her body everywhere as I give her deep stroke after stroke

Her arms tighten around me, holding me close, her hand sliding in the back of my hair, pulling softly and I moan from how good it feels

She lifts my head from her neck, pulling me to her, her lips crashing into mine in a kiss

Sliding my tongue in her mouth I touch hers, kissing her hard

I let go and let myself get lost in her

Everything fades away until it's just her- her touch, her scent, her kiss

Her

My jagi

The love of my life

We move together over and over, with her starting to throb on me harder and harder

Oh my god, it feels fucking incredible

I fucking love it

She kisses me harder, both of us clinging to each other

She's getting closer and so am I

"Please Jo. Give me", I whisper

Our kisses become more desperate, hands touching and squeezing each other everywhere

She's right there and the next thrust makes her cum, clenching me so fucking tightly

Her body shakes in my arms, her mouth still kissing me, moaning my name softly between our lips

"Yoongi"

The pleasure is outstanding and I let go, coming hard, my cock throbbing in her orgasming pussy as I shoot my cum deep inside her

My body trembles too as her pussy milks my cock so fucking good, her arms holding me so tightly

When we both finish, I pull away, looking down at her

She looks up at me, her beautiful eyes scanning my face

I gently touch her face, her eyes closing and her hand reaching up, holding the back of my hand

She turns into my hand, kissing my palm

"I love you Yoongi", she says, her eyes opening, the love in her eyes taking my breath away

"I love you Jo", I tell her, "So much jagi"

"So much", she whispers

Laying down, I hold her tightly, loving the feeling of her cuddling into me

She buries her face in my neck while I play with her hair

After awhile, I hear her soft snores, smiling as I kiss the top of her head

Close my eyes, I fall asleep, so happy and grateful I'm back home

😻😻😻😻😻😻😻😻😻😻

The next night

Yoongi POV

"Jagi", I call as the stylists put the finishing touches on my makeup and hair

"I'm here naekkeo", she says, moving in front of me

Taking her hand, I lace our fingers, squeezing softly

"Oh baby you look so pretty", she giggles, making me smile

"Not as pretty as you jagi", I chuckle

She shakes her head playfully, "Uh uh naekkeo, you are prettier. And so hot. ARMYs are gonna go crazy"

That makes me laugh, "Yeah well that doesn't matter as long as you think I'm hot"

She smirks, "You know I do. I think last night proved it"

It sure did

I don't think I ever had so much sex in one night

It was like we had to be with each other, making up for the months we were apart

It was sex then sleep then sex then sleep on repeat

Finally around 8 am, she told me no more, that I had to sleep to be rested for the concert tonight

She held me, playing with my hair and I swear I never had such a good sleep even though it was only for a few hours

But I'm rested enough and I'm energetic because I have her back

She's with me, like she should of been the whole tour

"Yeah jagi", I smirk, "Gonna prove it again tonight?"

"You know it", she smiles

"I'll prove to you too baby"

"I know you will Yoongi. I know"

After a few minutes I'm done and up, getting my mic, inner ear pieces and everything else I need

Taking her hand, we walk towards the back stage, hearing the chants of "Agust D"

The show starts in three minutes

I turn to her before I have to leave her back here

"Thank you for coming tonight jagi"

She smiles her gorgeous smile, her arms moving around my neck, mine moving around her

"Always baby. I know you're going to do an amazing job naekkeo", she says encouragingly

I smile at the confidence she has in me

She was always so supportive

"And I'll be right here watching and waiting for you"

I sigh happily, feeling so much better knowing she here

This calm feeling, this assurance I have was what I was missing the whole tour

She's my everything, my support, my inspiration and I'm never letting her go again

"I love you jagi"

"I love you naekkeo", she answers, smiling widely

Leaning down, her lips meet mine in a sweet kiss that feels amazing

I know I'm one lucky son of a bitch to have her back

"Yoongi, it's time", one of the staff calls

I reluctantly pull away from her, gazing into her beautiful eyes

"Go baby. I'll be here", she assures me

I nod, "Thank you jagi"

She shakes her head, "Don't thank me baby. I'll always support you"

I know she will and I have to work better at appreciating her

I will

"I love you", I tell her

"I love you Yoongi"

Pressing a quick kiss to her lips, we let each other go

"Have fun", she smiles, making me smile back

I turn from her, walking to the stairs leading to the stage

I check that I have everything, turn back to her, smiling

She nods, I nod, then I go up the stairs to the screaming ARMYs

[badaboomx]

Bada Lee as your girlfriend (NSFW)

If you can even call these NSFW. They're as vague as the word vague, but here's from yours truly, BOOM.

Part 1 (The Fluffy part) is HERE

Once you both start kissing each other, you can't stop.

A match made in heaven when you both realized how much you loved doing it. But how troublesome when a chaste kiss in public always left you both too distracted to do your daily duties. 

Yes, you both had accidentally set each other off in public after a chaste kiss gone deeper. While the excitement of doing such a thing in the public was intoxicating, it was hella inconvenient.

So, kissing has been restrained to whenever you two are alone together.

At home? You both let loose and melted onto each other. 

You have no idea if you’ve gotten better at kissing thanks to Bada or vice versa.

All you know is that you both are melted little puddles in each other’s embrace.

You’ve both gotten out to dates or events late because you’ve been caught up cuddling and kissing.

In private, you both are way touchier with one another, too.

Someone is cooking? Well, the other is backhugging and staying there like a Koala until whatever is cooking is ready.

Watching a movie together? Bada will be your bed and she WILL be rubbing your back consistently throughout.

Reading? You better believe you’re cuddling while you both read anything.

Driving? Hand on thigh, for certain.

Doing different things in the same room? You better believe Bada will make sure to be as near as possible.

Behind the tough exterior that Bada puts on while performing, and behind the restraint she shows in public, she's really a soft, needy lady.

And when she's really needy, you'll KNOW it. The moment she gets home, she looks at you a certain way, she approaches you slowly like she's holding herself back from tackling you, she holds you in the way that's possessive, yearning, needy -- god, she speaks in that soft, low tone of hers that makes you melt each time. 

Depending on the mood, she’ll behave differently. 

When she’s feeling a slower, tender vibe, she would move at a languid pace. Caressing your arm with her fingertips, taking her time to enjoy the touch; planting longing kisses in random places of your body, primarily on your shoulders and forehead, playfully (and adoringly) tickling you or squeezing you in places. Regardless of whether she wants to top or bottom, she relishes in every second of your presence and delights herself in making you giggle and smile in between all of it just like she smiles.

When she feels in a fierce mood, she would move in a way that you could only describe as dominant, possessive, regardless of wanting to top or bottom. She’s direct with her needs, approaching you with clear desire in her eyes. She speaks in that low tone of hers, with an added little growl sometimes, assessing whether or not you respond well to simple touches in those areas that get you all riled up. Then, grabbing you firmly, using her towering height to corner you against a counter or a wall to attack your neck or ear with bites and kisses. 

If there’s something that drives Bada crazy is hearing you whine or moan, so it’s her mission to pull them out of you anytime. To even hear you hold back a moan or hold back a little gasp when she catches you off guard is the best music you can give her. 

Pull Bada’s hair a little or bite a certain spot on her neck and she won’t hold back her own, trust. 

Can we talk about how fucking satisfying it is to be with Bada?

She loves to experiment things, to explore everything, so you know you’re not going to be left unattended.

And she WILL use every little button you have to drive you crazy.

She’s a dancer, baby. I mean, you know that rhythm, that stamina, and that dexterity are super useful to her.

That cool persona on stage seeps in in bed sometime, but there’s so many sides to her that not many people know and that YOU get to watch. It’s fascinating to witness.

She’s a goddess, but you’re fast becoming her kryptonite and she knows that.

That’s why she makes sure you’re pleased and fulfilled every time.

You’re hers, and hers only. And she will make sure you don’t regret it.

[pocket-watcher]

I really loved the massage fic you did awhile ago! I don't really have another idea but could you do another one like that?

Hiya anon! My ongoing back pain and I can definitely dream something up for you!!

“…Why the hell are you standing like that?”

Aiysha’s disapproving gaze looked over Henry, who was contorting his body to stand in the most unnatural way possible.

“This is the only way I can stand where the pain is tolerable.” He whined.

Aiysha tutted. “You’re a grown man, Henry, I told you that this was going to catch up with you! You can’t sit like a gremlin while you work anymore.”

Henry shifted, whimpering in pain quietly.

Aiysha cared. A lot. More than she’d like to admit, and seeing her friend in pain? Well…

“Ugh. Fine, look.” She fished a card out of her purse and handed it to Henry. It read:

DR. MONTGOMERY

Liscenced masseuse and chiropractor

The address wasn’t too far from his house, Henry thought to himself.

“When I broke my back he worked magic. Maybe he’ll be able to help you.”

Henry thanked her, and she pulled him into a hug, and he felt his back twinge in pain.

Yeah, he’d need to make an appointment. Today, if possible.

—————————

“Henry Williams?” The receptionist called out.

He stood, and allowed himself to be navigated to a room where presumably Dr. Montgomery was waiting for him.

“Ah! Henry! What seems to be the problem?” The man asked, as Henry hopped up onto the massage table.

“So, uh, my posture isn’t great, and my whole back hurts. I don’t think it’s like anything wrong, just all my muscles aching a lot.” He explained.

The doctor scribbled some notes as Henry talked.

“Okay, if you can take off your clothes and lie down on the table then we can start, and if the problems persist I can talk to you about further treatment. How does that sound?”

“That sounds great, thank you!” Henry began unbuttoning his top and the doctor looked away. Henry positioned himself, a towel covering him.

As he put his face through the hole in the massage table he noticed a screen below it.

“Oh, cool! What does this do?”

He could hear the doctor approaching him.

“We use it to play soothing music and visuals to help our clients relax. Here, let me show you.”

The doctor bent down and flipped a switch. The screen came to life, playing a soothing video of the ocean.

Henry felt the cool touch of hands on his back and allowed himself to melt into the table.

Dr. Montgomery’s hands worked expertly, as if the man knew exactly where the pain was coming from.

Henry bit back moans of relief, trying to focus on the screen below and not the glorious feeling of relieved tension.

The screen might have glitched a little. It was like another image was burned on top of the calming beach video.

He didn’t cock his head in confusion. No, it was more that the doctor had moved it to one side to get at a particularly bad knot in Henry’s shoulder.

A few moans escaped.

Henry kept watching the video. He realised they were words. Words burnt into the screen. He tried to make them out as his body sank into the massage table.

S…sub…mit?

That’s weird, he thought to himself.

Another:

Obey.

Giv…e in

Relax

The words became clearer the more he focused on them.

Deeper

Pleasure

Control

Henry’s mind, unfortunately, was too relaxed to panic. The combination of the calming atmosphere, the relief of the massage, and the subliminal messaging being beamed into his brain for the last 10 minutes had carefully moulded him into a puddle, with any resistance leaving his body with every moan and whine.

Dr. Montgomery tutted.

“You’re not taking care of yourself. You need to sit properly. Stand every once in a while. Maybe even a light stretch.”

The words washed over Henry, taking up all the free space that PAIN had previously occupied. He tried to agree, to nod, but all he could do was stare.

“Once this massage is over you’re going to forget all about this little talk we’re having, and you’re going to start being more sensible with how you work and how you sit. Aren’t you?”

Henry murmured in response. Which turned into a heavy breath as the doctor pushed down onto a sore point.

“Atta’ boy.”

Aiysha waited outside for Henry, but something was pulling her inside. Sure, her back was fine now - but a little self pampering never hurt anyone…?

Before she could make an appointment Henry, with a spring in his step, greeted her outside.

“You look better.” She grinned.

“I owe you, like, my whole life. Dinner? On me?”

Aiysha smiled at the building.

“Sounds great.”

[magiclwritings]

It wasn't until Apollo had apologized to Oliver and Cassio for his tone that he'd realized his jaw had been set in a rigid hold. So much so that when he'd finally opened and took a breath both sides popped. His fingers squeezed Apollo's and he slid his hand free. A faint sheen of sweat had collected on his palm and so he rubbed it against his pants. He had to get himself together. Seeing that the little boy also recognized the pair of them had irked him more than the fact that had just showed up unannounced. He sighed and found himself regaining himself, calming down as quickly as he could manage. If he were going to be able to keep touching Apollo like that he couldn't influence his mood like that. Even if it had been unintentional. He wasn't ashamed but he felt bad that he couldn't just let somethings go yet.

"I don't think anyone has heard or seen from her since then either." Cassio chimed in. While he wasn't greatly acquainted with that particular wizarding family, most were still running their circles and gossiping all the while after. As much as he hated to admit, sometimes it was the only way to really find out anything about anyone. "Mungos? And you were the only one to contact? What about her parents?" He'd almost regretted suggesting it as soon as it had come out but still. Cass stepped in and nudged himself under Oliver's arm for his warmth and comfort. "I mean I'm sure they don't have the highest opinions of you or ... Isaac but surely they'd know their daughter was missing, right?" He looked to Oliver and sighed, knowing that may not be true. With so many in his boyfriend's family he wondered how his poor parents kept up with all of them.

"Orion was probably right. Maybe with the four of us we could get more out of him?" He'd suggested, reaching his hand to pat Oliver's chest. "Uncle Ollie seems like he's got a handle on it already." The laugh that followed couldn't be helped. Because while this was absolutely terrifying, that part was still something that would stick with him for the rest of his life. "I mean it can't hurt. Does anyone else know about him?" He asked only Apollo that question, his gaze lingering a little longer than need be but he needed to know exactly what they needed to prepare for and only Apollo could tell him exactly who this could be.

"Jus' the hospital staff." Isaac butted in, snapping the blond out of his staring contest with Apollo. Breathe. He straightened and forced a smile to his lips. "You migh' be righ'. Oliver migh' be the one ta ge' somethin' ou' o' him." He nudged Apollo's shoulder, knowing he was going a mile a minute in his brain and no chance of slowing. "Maybe we can ta'e a brea'. Try an' ea' somethin' while Oliver an' Cassio talk ta him." He offered, knowing Apollo would resist but he needed so desperately to get him to focus on something else even if just for a moment. "He's no' goin' anywhere an' I thin' he's jus' scared." His lips pressed together and he breathed out through his nose. "I would be if the lo' o' us were actin' li'e I was a piece of gilly wee'." His shoulders shrugged and he bent in the rest his chin on Apollo's shoulder. "Wha' else ca' we do?"

Oliver wasn’t surprised that Cassio didn’t immediately believe him. It was so rare that he knew something about Apollo before Cass, but he knew he was right. He knew Orion wouldn’t lie about this. While he didn’t have the whole story, Oliver had seen the look on his brother’s face as he explained a spell to Apollo. “Don’t be all pouty when you realize I was right,” Oliver mumbled against the side of Cass’ mouth, pecking kisses along any inch of warm skin he could find before the blonde pulled away and left the comfort of his bed—knowing such huge information before Cass was a thrill if he was honest. His friendship with Apollo, while it had never bothered him, had been quite the thing to navigate throughout the start of their relationship. 

After Cassio freshened up and they exited the bedroom, Oliver went about gathering the bags he had brought in from his little shopping spree. According to Orion, Apollo and Isaac’s new son was in the toddler-ish stage, so he got…well, pretty much one of everything. He would be the best uncle ever because Merlin knew when any of his useless brothers would give him a niece or nephew. Cassio went to his phone, unlocking it and frowning at the screen. Oliver knew that look; it meant Apollo hadn’t texted him. “We’ll see them in a couple of minutes,” He said, arms loaded with bags of goodies. “You’ll have to apparate us.” Oliver felt arms wrapped around him, and then they were off. 

They appeared moments later in Apollo and Isaac’s home. 

“She’s just our neighbor,” Theo explained exasperatedly, as if Isaac was silly for not knowing this information already. “When I can’t come here, she watches me for me..” He shrugged and went back to his plate. Apollo studied the boy, noting that he adapted Isaac’s accent for some words, but that could have just been him idolizing the man he thought was a father figure to him. Theo opened his mouth to continue, but Apollo held up a hand after he heard a distant pop of someone’s apparition in the living room. Very few people had access to their home. He knew his twin wouldn’t come without calling first. Given who he had called earlier, Apollo knew who it was. 

He glanced at Isaac, sighed heavily, and resisted the urge to slam his head against the table. A concussion would be preferred over dealing with Oliver right now. However, while he was strongly displeased at Oliver's unannounced arrival at their home, it would help them get more information regarding Theodore. Would he recognize Oliver and Cassio? Would he have fabricated memories of them as well? “Theodore,” Apollo called out before he heard a grating voice call out, ‘Hellooooo.’ The boy looked up at Apollo, waiting for him to speak again. He would take the risk. “I think your uncles are here.” Then he held his breath, waiting. 

The biggest grin broke out on the boy’s face as he pushed his chair back from the table and ran into the living room, screaming at the top of his lungs, “Uncle Ollie!!” Apollo turned to Isaac, his mouth hanging open. “What the fuck,” He muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. He shouldn’t have been surprised, but he was. Theodore’s entire life had been built on false memories that extended to their friends. It was enough of a distraction to make him forget that he was pissed about Orion’s betrayal. “Orion must have told them,” He said to Isaac; for some odd reason, he felt the need to throw out there that he hadn’t called Cassio about this. “I’m going to kill Oliver.”

Apollo stood up from the seat, his meal untouched, and walked into the living room. As he entered, he saw Theodore trying to wrap both arms around Oliver and Cassio in a hug. His gaze met Cassio’s immediately, and Apollo didn’t have the words to explain, not like he could in front of Theodore anyway. “What did you do to Orion?” He asked, turning to look at Oliver, his hands on his hips. “Because I know he wouldn’t give up my information freely.” 

Oliver ruffled Theo’s hair before sheepishly glancing up at Apollo. “First of all, it’s rude that we weren’t the first told..” 

“Told what?” Theodore asked, looking up at Oliver with the biggest smile. 

Oliver continued without answering Theodore. “And second of all, I beat him up, and it was easy because he’s a little bitch.” Theo giggled and tugged on Oliver’s arm, muttering ‘That’s a bad word’ under his breath. “I mean, he’s a little witch.” Theodore giggled again and moved from them, starting to rummage through the bags at Oliver’s feet. “All of these bags are for you.” 

Apollo sighed but didn’t comment on it. It saved him a trip to the store. “Theo, why don’t you look through those while we talk to your uncles in the kitchen.” 

As they moved into the kitchen, Apollo reached for Isaac’s hand, slotting their fingers together and giving him a squeeze of comfort. He turned around when Cassio and Oliver followed them in, stepping back into the vicinity of Isaac’s warmth. “I don’t know where to begin. I got a call to come to Mungos, and he was there waiting for me. Alexandria is his mum, and she’s been AWOL for days. The hospital has it on file that I’m listed as his father and the emergency contact, but I haven’t met that kid before. He knows all of us as if he’s been in our lives forever. I didn’t even know she had a kid. I haven’t seen her since uni. I called Orion to see if there was a way to look at memories and see if there were traces of altering magic in them because it doesn’t make sense how he has memories of being here, playing with Milo, and being with Isaac and me. Now, it’s confirmed he’s also familiar with the two of you. So now that you’re all caught up, are you here to help or just to make it even more of a difficult night?” 

Apollo inhaled sharply and shook his head. He hadn’t meant it like that, but his nerves were fucking fried to shit, and he was so fucking tired. “I didn’t mean…” He started and then stopped, momentarily focusing on breathing until he felt more solid and grounded. “I didn’t mean it to sound the way it sounded.” Apollo couldn’t bring himself to apologize, so that was the closest he could get to it. “I don’t know what the fuck to do with a kid.”