#dare i say he loves them against his better judgment

[greedbent]

kaz: absolutely horrible, moral compass out of control (if even existent at all), lacks decency, will sell someone to satan for one corn chip

also kaz: surrounds himself with generally Good PeopleTM (despite roping them into doing bad things), genuinely cares about these people and will commit atrocities to protect them

me:

[eraenaa]

Twin Flame

Aemond Targaryen x Twin Reader

Synopsis: Anywhere that you are, that I’d be. Following Aemond to the Riverlands against your better judgment and sensibilities because you knew all too well you could never be apart from your twin.

Warnings: ¿Angst?, Targcest, Mature, 18+, P in V Sex, Not Proof Read

Word Count: 2,333

A/N: (1) Based on a request where they wanted "Aemond has a twin sister, they both love each other, more than sibilings should, but ofc they could never do something about it.When Aemond takes Harrenhall he sees the opportunity, and gets his sister to go with him. At the end making Harrenhall their piece of paradise, where they can love each other freely without the expectations of their family or the court." (2) Find the song references ;)

“Come with me, sister, come with me to Harrenhall.” You feel your stomach pit at the vulnerability in your twin’s voice. A vulnerability that you had not seen nor heard for so long— a vulnerability that he had hidden away, but it would always shine through for you. “Aemond,” You sighed, resisting the urge to turn to him. Your knees already felt weak, and to look upon your twin’s face would surely make you rethink everything that needs to be done. Just a look upon Aemond’s pleading face would make you forget about all the sensibilities that your brother seemed to ignore. “Please… I need you, ñuha perzys.” (My fire)

“And they need me, Aemond. You know this.” You choked. “With you gone and Aegon burnt and Ser Criston away… who will be with Helaena and Mother? Sister has already refused her dragon even for her own sake— someone must protect them, Aemond. If not you, then me.” You looked upon your twin’s eye and saw unshed tears. “But you are meant to be with me— to be by my side! From the womb to our tomb, we are meant to be with each other! Do you dare to separate us? You? My own twin would be the one to tear us apart?” You shook your head. “Aemond… the circumstances have changed! You know what we must do! I—I cannot leave our mother and sister defenseless! I must stay here, and you must go to Harrenhall… without me.” Aemond took hold of your arm, his grasp harsh. Unwilling to let you go. “I will die in Harrenhall without you,” 

“Oh, Aemond,” You sighed, stepping forward and cupping his cheek, feeling as a tear fell. “If you die, I will shortly follow after. You know I cannot live without my twin flame.” You whispered. “We must do our duties, brother… were you not the one who taught and had embedded that in my head? We must play our roles here and deny ourselves comfort and… and our desires.” Aemond scoffed. “Deny ourselves?” He spat. “We have been denying ourselves the moment we were born! You and I, and they know we belong together, but what have they done? They had plotted to separate us the moment we came to this world! Forcing us to betrothals that align with our duties and pay no mind to what we want!” You swallowed thickly, caressing his cheek to calm the fire in his veins. 

“Can you not see, sister? If we are in Harrenhall, we will be free. We shall command the Riverlands together�� just you and I and our dragons. We will reign fire upon the usurpers and their bannermen; we shall take what is rightfully ours, and no one could hinder us anymore.” 

“Oh, my love… your mind is muddled— deluded.” You say softly, but Aemond furiously shakes his head. “Do you not want to be with me?” He asked, voice holding a magnitude of hurt that broke the heart that you shared with him. “I do. But you know I can’t. Not when Mother and Hela—“ 

“Enough with your excuses! They had made their decisions— they have no intentions of winning this war— let alone fighting it! Mother still holds love for our enemy, and our enemy still holds love for her. No one from their side would dare harm Helaena, and you know this!” You looked at him, appalled by his words. “You would leave them defenseless?” You say in disgust. “I would leave them to be with you! If you would make me choose between them and you— you already know the answer, so be merciful, sister, and not make me utter it.” You did not know whether to focus on the dread in your heart or the overflowing love for Aemond. “Gods, brother… this is no use. You know what we must do, and I beg you, my love, to accept our fates. We must go our separate ways. I’m sorry.” You almost sobbed, urging him to let go of his hold of you. You placed a tender kiss upon the side of his lips and felt another tear roll from his eye. “I love you, Aemond… but I’m sorry, I cannot come with you.”

Aemond left for the Riverlands before first light, and you felt his departure by the throbbing pit in your heart; half of you had left. “You must know that this is for the better, my sweet,” Your mother whispered, staring into your eyes, which resembled your twin’s. Though she bore the both of you on the same day, she often had difficulty accepting that the two of you were twins. Because where Aemond was brutal, you were gentle. Where Aemond was rash, you were rational. What the other lacked, the other had— never complete, but whole when together.

“I know. I—I think I know… but mother, I feel like I had betrayed him,” You said. You knew perfectly well both of your roles and what must be done to save your family and faction, but you could not help but feel the lack pitting in you within just a few hours of your beloved twin’s departure. Alicent sighed and cupped your cheek as she saw the tears welling in your eyes. “What you did is for the sake of me and your sister, and we are forever grateful for you, my love. You had made your choice, and Ameond his.” You nodded, unable to look your mother in the eye because as much as you tried to sell to Aemond that the reason for your reluctance to come with him was your mother and sister— you had used that as a ploy to hinder him from leaving and going to the Riverlands because you never thought your twin flame could leave you. 

You knew Harrenhall had to be felled in order to have an advantage in the war, but when the castle fell, you had been warned by Helaena that Aemond would soon follow. You could not let that be. And you foolishly thought that if you hindered him from going to Harrenhall by denying yourself to follow him, you could perhaps redo the prophecy. 

“She must go to him.” Helaena suddenly spoke, breaking the silence between you and your mother. Your gaze flew to your sister, who looked distantly out of the window. “No. Sister, I stayed here for you and Mother.” You say, feeling your mother hold onto your hands. Helaena turned to you with a knowing yet far-off look in her eyes. “You stayed here for him. But he needs you in Harrenhall.” Your mother shook her head, “Your sister will stay here with us. And in time, when need be… we shall leave this all behind— live… live a quiet life. Somewhere away from all this bloodshed.” 

“Leave?” You questioned, brows deeply furrowed. “Leave for where? This is our home, mother.” You added, Alicent licking her lips and gaze traveling the room. “I did not stay here with you and abandon my twin so that we could leave our home!” You practically yelled as you realized the plan that your mother had concocted. “Kingslanding is ours thanks to Aemond. Do you mean to abandon it? Leave it for what? The woods? Essos?” You asked incredulously. “We will leave kingslanding for somewhere safe! Away from fire and revolt! Away from dra—“ You abruptly stood and removed your mother’s hold. “But we are dragons!” You screamed. Alicent shook her head, the influence of Aemond shining through you during his absence. 

“There is nothing more to be said,” Helaena spoke again, sensing an argument was to break. “We will leave, and so shall you.” You licked your lips and shook your head as you walked towards your sister. “Helaena,” You sighed. “Go to Aemond, sister. He needs you more than we do. You are his twin… his opposing force— only you could calm his rage.” You turned to your mother, who looked upon you and your sister, defeated and picking at her fingertips. She gave a hesitant nod, her plan failing as she could never truly take you away from Aemond, no matter what plan she had concocted ever since both of your childhoods. You were wholly Aemond’s, and no one could deny you from him— not even yourself. 

You arrived in Harrenhall in the dead of night. No one questioned your arrival as they had let you and your dragon pass freely, making you question if your twin had warned them; Aemond was already sensing that you would come for him. 

You walked through the eerie halls of the ruined castle as you relied on your intuition as to where your beloved was. You reached a door with the faint light of the hearth shining through the cracks. You carefully pushed upon the warped wooden door and immediately saw your twin lying on the right side of the bed, a pillow placed on the left where he draped his arm upon— the same position he would have whenever you two would sneak upon each other’s chambers and sleep in each other’s comfort. 

You threaded lightly as you stood by Aemond’s side, gently running your hand through his silky hair. Immediately, he woke and turned to you, his lilac eye wide. You saw confusion, apprehension, and shock in his lilac eye. “It’s just me,” You say softly and soothingly, cupping his cheek and tracing his scar with your familiar touch. “You… you came,” He said in disbelief. “Of course. I came for you,” 

You held your breath as Aemond reached up and kissed your lips. You two had only done such acts a few times before, but you had both placed great restraints upon yourselves to never repeat actions again or let your desires stray further. “I knew you would come back to me.” He whispered against your lips, tucking a stray piece of your hair behind your ear. “I could never truly leave you alone, now can I? You are half of me, Aemond… I cannot live without the half of my soul.” As the words left your lips, Aemond moved to kiss you once more, moving you to straddle him on the bed. 

“I have only ever wanted you, my fire… only you.” He breathed heavily. Letting his lips stray to your neck, brushing away your hair that you had inherited from your mother. Hair that reminded him of the fire that burned brightly in your veins. “You are all that I need. With you here, I could die happily.” You abruptly parted. “Do not say such things, Aemond. If you die, I’ll shortly follow, and there will be fury that you must pay.��� You say harshly, glaring at your twin, who only sadistically grinned at your words. You could not even think of such things, for it only left devastation— if your twin was taken from you, it would only leave you bereft and reeling as he would be the loss of your life. “And I shall do the same. I will follow you into the dark, my fire.” 

Your lips found home upon his again, your hips moving upon his, feeling his need greatly protruding upon your heat. “Aemond,” You mewled, feeling him leave marks upon your neck. “Do you need me as much as I need you?” He hummed. “Answer, sweet sis, will you finally relent and open your eyes to see that you are mine? Or will we still have to deny ourselves?” He questioned. “I’m yours, my love. You have known it ever since— no matter what I say— no matter what has been done, I was and will always be yours.” You breathed heavily. 

You gasped as you felt his hand slither in between the both of you to cup your cunt. Aemond groaned as he felt your wetness seeping through your small clothes. “Aemond, please, please, please— do not make me beg. I want you badly.” You pleaded, Aemond completely amused by your desperation but merciful enough not to let you plead for him further. Your eyes rolled back as you felt him slip a finger into your cunt as his thumb drew lazy circles upon your pulsating pearl. 

You found his lips again, your tongues battling for dominance as your cunt was completly in his control. “More, Aemond, I need more,” You cried, frustrated as you could not find the release you sought desperately for. “Of course you do,” Aemond taunted but still obliged. You lifted your hips as his cock was released from the confines of his night trousers. “Gods,” You cried as you sank upon his length, your nails digging onto his shoulders as his mouth was enclosed upon your tit that he pulled out from your clothing. “You kept yourself pure for me— you truly knew to whom you belong, do you not, sister?” Aemond gritted, already consumed by the pleasure that you and he had denied yourselves. When you sank completely onto his length and when the tip of his cock was perfectly hitting the spot in your cunt, you finally felt complete.

Aemond kissed the tears of pain and pleasure away as your hips moved slowly and cautiously, as each movement only provided pain due to his well-endowed length. “You were made for me,” Aemond groaned as your tight cunt clenched around him further. “Only you could make me feel as such, and only I can make you feel like this.” He growled against your skin. 

When you finally felt conviction, you moved your hips fervently against Aemond’s. The sound of your wet cunt, slapping skin, and your the pleasured moans filled the room. Words of love and desire that had not been uttered but were always known spewed from both of your lips and when you felt your release coming, you locked your lips with Aemond’s and let yourself come undone in the arms of the man that had been yours the moment you two were born. 

Tag List: peachysunrize gelacat0413 maidmerrymint aemondwhoresworld fireydragonblood anukulee spacexdrago amanda08319 seamaiden aylasrants blackswxnn dracaryxzs trashpackbitch tomie-it-girl mamawiggers1980 chaosluvr deine-schatz

[felibrary]

"i love you, i'm sorry"

pairing: aventurine x reader (gender neutral)

synopsis: aventurine doesn’t know how to handle people being affectionate to him. so eventually, just as everyone leaves him, he’s become the one who leaves the person he cherishes the most—you—before you’re able to leave him first. so then, why is he now in front of your home, asking for another chance?

wordcount: 1.2k | content & warnings: unestablished relationship, situationship 101, aven has commitment issues (surprise), angst if you squint, hurt/comfort , mentions of aven's past (kind of) ; ficlet

tags: @eccentric-planet HERE IT ISSSS!!! (after waiting for like a week or so oops)

author's note: i wrote like half of this during biology, history and french class LMFAO

in his world, love leaves behind traces. 

be it dejection that gnaws at him, and wraps his heart in sorrow or your lips that press against him, finding home in his scarred skin. all of the little things that shaped him into being—they all track back to you.  

gradually, over time, with every gesture of affection exchanged, he fell. his once sleepless nights were cured by lying beside you, and eventually, he peacefully dozed off. that is until morning arrived, the sun greeting him as her rays seeped through the curtains, which made him rise.

alas, bathing in bliss only lasted for so long. the love that streamed through his veins and was pumped into his heart, was daring to spill; aventurine knew that confessing his love to you would come with its consequences. there were rules he set up for himself, but after all, he is no more than a pathological sinner—an individual long forsaken by the gods that reign this world—a helpless soul.

despite harboring feelings for you, he kept those blooming emotions to himself; confined in the depths of his heart. 

so as much as he loved you, it hurt just as much to let you go; leave you behind with no words that offered an explanation for his leaving. 

aventurine’s foundation was built upon being alone—disappearing without leaving a trace has always been in his nature. having to leave and being left behind was nothing new. he was a natural.

eventually, the traces you left behind, etched into his very being, washed away.

kakavasha was a lonely child. the word company has always felt foreign on his tongue, at least when he had to say it aloud in a language other than his own.

presumably, that’s why he felt strangely weak in your hold. how you always persistently, almost desperately, buried your nails into his skin and held him tight—not wanting to let go as if you knew that he’d leave one day; silently slip from your grasp.

it was to be expected that you wouldn’t reach out anymore—he made you leave. 

(it’s for the better he thinks. after all, if you would’ve marched further into his heart you would’ve seen what was hidden in the depths of it—someone with no strong ambitions, and there’d be no point of return. aventurine wouldn’t make a good lover, he’s both too selfish and selfless no in between.)

there hasn’t ever been a verbal confirmation that the two of you were in a relationship. everyone around him, including you just assumed that the two of you were together

but he can’t blame them. all the spare items in his apartment, ranging from a mere toothbrush to items like skincare or using the same candles as you, that’d help you feel more at home. arriving at work together and subtly flirting in the elevator when others were around or kissing in the copy room, weren’t casual things that friends did.

aventurine thought it was easier that way, simply because the thought of putting labels on your relationship felt strange. to him, it felt like a heavy shackle bound to his feet, preventing him from being free.

so why is he now standing at your front door, waiting like a prisoner on death row for their judgment to come?

there’s a faint squeak as you open the door and aventurine shoves his left hand into the pocket of his coat, fiddling with the flower-shop bill. 

before aventurine knows it; and can fully comprehend the solemnity of the situation, you stand in front of him, as beautiful as ever.

“hi,” aventurine breathes out, and only now does he realize how much he’s missed seeing you. instead of answering your gaze drifts over his figure and his surroundings.

he feels hot under your watchful gaze, his body suddenly heating up, and clothes sickly sticking to his skin. “so? what’s your business?” your eyes land on the bouquet of lilies and gardenias he's gripping tightly,  slightly wrinkling the wrapping paper by doing so. 

countless thoughts are running through his head. may i come in? can we talk? i wanted to apologi—

“i love you, i’m sorry.”

his voice croaks and suddenly he feels small. the gut-wrenching feeling of fear that stirred in his stomach whenever you were around made him vulnerable and submissive. it made him bolder—more reckless with his way of words. they twisted and twirled on his tongue, and ultimately something else slipped out. (the truth)

the dismissive sound you make crawls into aventurine’s ears like a parasite creeping on his skin, causing him pain. “you say that after playing a game of push-and-pull with me? aventurine do you hear yourself?” you huff laughingly. “don’t do this to me. i can’t go through this once again,” you express with bitterness in your voice. “you’ll just hurt the both of us.” your tone is meek, but aventurine can hear the strain in your voice and he feels his stomach drop.

he exhales and musters the courage to say something. “i know that this is sudden, moreover, i know that i’ve been beyond horrible to you,” aventurine admits, and he swallows. “i want to apologize. my first apology is that i never apologized sooner.” he diverts his gaze to the ground, head facing the floor like a prisoner being escorted. 

he’s sure that at this point the stems of the flowers he’s bought for you are already kinked from clutching them so hard in his hand. “so, may i come in? i’ll tell you everything. i promise.” aventurine doesn’t dare to look up, at least not yet.

“calling me, whenever you needed me like i’m a pet who listens to every command, whispering sweet nothings into my ear as if you were coaxing me into believing something that was untruthful from the very beginning, and—” frustratedly, you ball your hands into fists. “listen. everything i told you was honest. yes i wasn’t ready for a relationship but that doesn't mean that i didn’t love you.” aventurine forces himself to look up, but immediately regrets it upon seeing your hurt face.

nevertheless, he continues. “i’m still hung up on the past. the thought of being with someone and promising myself to stay with them and committing my time, my life, and my very being scares me. it doesn’t excuse my behavior and actions, no, but i hope that this helps you understand me better.”

“i'm sorry that i didn't confide you in this any sooner. I was scared that you too would leave me. so i thought that if i’d leave first, it wouldn’t hurt as much. but i was wrong, my heart fucking aches when i’m not with you.” he cringes at how fake this sounds. but he’s more bothered about the fact that his heart isn’t only twinging when not with you, but it also might jump out of his ribcage, right here, right now.

you bite down on your bottom lip and contemplate. it's faint and if aventurine hadn’t paid attention, he’d have missed it. the way you mutter dumbass under your breath.” forget it,” you sigh as if reaching your breaking point. “just come in.”

this time, you fully open the door to him and he feels a wave of relief washing over him. “you’ve always been a mystery to me kakavasha.” you whisper, and aventurine’s lips form into a small smile as he trails and follows behind you, into your home.

a mystery, you say?

aventurine makes a promise to himself as he places the flowers into the glass vase you provided him. this time he���d be completely honest with you. about everything and anything.

so here it is — his heart laid bare.

end note: who am i kidding. if he came back to me pleading id also take him back.

also tagging @azullumi because at this point it'd be weird not to do this. i just want to thank you azul. thank you for being an amazing friend. thinking back, i used to have much worse communication skills. avoiding the ones around me or never voicing my problems aloud. but you giving me advice has genuinely inspired and impacted me so much. simply because i wanted to be so much like you cause i looked up to you so much and i still do. and recently those efforts of trying to better my social skills have paid off (kind of). I've become better and more mindful when it comes to people addressing their problems they have with me and thus trying to reflect and change my behavior. but I'm also able to talk about the things that bother me better now, simply because i took your advice. azul you understand me like no other. you take the words out of my mouth and are able to form such beautiful sentences i could never even think of. honestly your way with words is what enamors me the most about you.

© FELIBRARY 2024. stealing, copying, translating, reposting my works on other platforms or feeding them to ai is not permitted.

[amomentsescape]

hello! Are you ok?, I hope so ❤️ (by the way, your writing is wonderful)

I would like to make a request for Yandere Slashers with an S/O who is a mermaid, who usually kills people who dare to invade her lakes, and she kills these people by drowning.

(I'm sorry if there are any writing errors, English is not my first language, and I'm writing this using Google translate)

Slashers with Mermaid! Reader

Yandere! Slashers x Reader

Includes: Freddy, Michael, Jason, Thomas, Bubba, Brahms, Norman, Billy, Stu, Vincent, & Bo

A/N: I'm doing good, thank you <3 I hope you enjoy! (Also, I decided I'm going to remove Lester from the Slasher requests. I'm still very much open to writing for him when specified, but I feel like he doesn't quite fit in with all the other Slashers).

Freddy Krueger

Meeting you was quite literally the best thing to ever happen in his undead life

He likes to team up with you, constantly coming up with different ways you both can contribute to someone's death

You pull them under, and they suddenly wake up in Freddy's world

Your dynamic is pretty ideal too

Whenever you sleep, you can visit him

And he has no issues with popping into your waters just to say hi

He does this quite often, in fact

He is very aware you can take care of yourself, but he still gets worried

You're his

He doesn't trust anyone being around you

Even if your only intention is to kill them immediately

He understands that where you are now is your home, but that won't stop him from doing whatever he can to have you live in his world

He can create the perfect environment for you

Miles and miles of nothing but water if your heart desires

Which hopefully it does

Since he isn't willing to wait much longer

Michael Myers

He never thought creatures like you actually existed

But the moment he saw your strength and darkness, he was immediately drawn in against his better judgment

He visits more often then you think

He's always around, watching

You can feel eyes on you almost 90% of the day, but you never really know where it's coming from

He enjoys watching you swim and just relax

But he especially loves seeing you drag poor souls into the tide with you

There's something so twisted and yet magical about watching you kill

But this fascination is also paired with extreme jealousy

He hates seeing you touch other people

And he almost envies the way they get to be so close to you, even if it means their demise

He hopes to find a way to take you home with him for good one of these times

You told him you loved him, so you'd be happy as long as you're by his side

Right?

Jason Voorhees

Out of all places to meet the love of your life, this one seemed especially unfortunate for Jason

But his feelings for you were strong enough to overrule his fear

He'll sit by the shore with you, hearing you talk and sing old tunes he's never heard before

He loves listening to your stories about the world underneath the current

But this always leaves him with such a deep feeling of sadness

He wants a life where you both can live together and share those memories

But he knows that's nearly impossible

He starts spending more time by the water side than the camp, finding that irresponsible teens like to be by the beach even more than the forest

You lure them in with your beauty and your words, and Jason finishes the job

He'll let you kill too if you really wish to, but he doesn't like the idea of those types of people being so close to you

He barely gets to touch you, so why should they get what he so desperately wants instead?

Thomas Hewitt

In this desert like area of Texas, Thomas has to travel quite far to see you

But the one time he accidentally stumbled upon you, he was smitten

And you surprisingly didn't turn him into another victim like all the others

He was kind to you

And now, he brings you food and stops by as often as he possibly can

You've made him little necklaces out of bones and shells

He wears every single one of them

Your bond only gets stronger each time he comes to see you

But Thomas can only take so much

Why can't you be closer?

He knows the family would love you

And he could make you so happy

His bathtub is big enough for you, he's sure of it

He knows that you won't want to leave your own home for his, but he loves you and knows what will be best for you

He's just got to be patient

Bubba Sawyer

His own family had to go on a search for him after he disappeared for a couple days

But he just couldn't help it

You make him so happy, and the more time he spent with you, the more difficult it became to leave your side

He's tried to jump in a few times to be with you, but you always persuade him out of it

He doesn't know how to swim, and you don't want him to end up like everyone else

That's when he decided that the best option would be to create your very own pond in his backyard!

That way, you could be with each other, and he would never have to say goodbye again

He hasn't told you this idea yet, but he's sure you'd be happy with it

This would also keep you from needing to kill anyone else

You're too beautiful to get your hands dirty

And it's unfair that they get to join you in the water when you won't let him do the same

He can make you super happy with his family, he's sure of it

Brahms Heelshire

He hates this dynamic between you two

He wants you at home with him so you can take care of him, and he can keep you away from everyone else

No one should get to touch you or look at you besides him

He's actually tried to drag you out of the water before, but the prospect of accidentally killing you was enough to make him stop

He never knew he could envy a body of water as much as he does

It gets to hold you, touch you, and be with you at all times

He wants that too, so desperately

Because of you, he's gone from house dweller to nature enthusiast in just a matter of days

Even when you think he's at home, he's stalking around, watching you

He insists it's to keep you safe

In fact, you haven't had to drown anyone in quite a while

And you can thank Brahms for that

The moment he sees a single soul in the area, he drags them off and disposes of them before you even have a chance to see them

He wouldn't dare let you touch another being that isn't him

Norman Bates

It honestly took him a really long time to believe that you were even real

He didn't think mermaids or sirens actually existed, so seeing you for the first time made him pinch himself to make sure this wasn't some weird dream

He also took a while to trust you since he didn't want to fall victim to your treacherous waters

But once he realized you were genuine, he dove straight in all at once

He visits you whenever he can for however long he can muster

Someone needs to run the motel, but God he wishes he could be with you 24/7

He's "jokingly" brought up the idea of you staying at the motel in a pool he could install for you

He just wants to keep an eye on you at all times

He constantly dreams of finding a way to make you human so you two can truly be together

Until you have two feet like him, it will never be enough

Billy Loomis

Doesn't tell a single soul about you

Not even Stu

And it's not because he's embarrassed or wants to see other people

He's honestly just scared that others will either think he's insane or try to capture you

Visits you every day and makes sure to pack his swim trunks so he can join you in the water

Constantly admires you and wants to run his hands along your scales

He just thinks you're all around incredible

But he has this hidden level of anger towards the situation

He wants to walk around town with you, show you off

He wants you to join him on his sprees so you can see just how powerful he can be

And he hates the idea of not having eyes on you at all times

He knows you kill anyone who isn't him, but he doesn't want you getting that close to anyone in general

He spends his nights studying ways to get you to live with him

He'll find a way to have you all to himself, even if it ends up being the death of him

Stu Macher

He actually first met you while you were seducing some poor soul to their death

And Stu was immediately enamored

He comes to see you whenever he can

He sometimes spends the weekend camping out along the shore just so he can spend more time with you

He thinks you're beautiful of course, but he can't help but fantasize what it would be like if you were human like him

You two come from very different worlds, but there's nothing that could keep you away from him

He likes to bring up the idea of mermaids and mythical creatures in casual conversations with people

How they react to it will determine whether they make his hit list

He likes to bring you jewelry and pretty objects from his victims, showing you items that you've never seen before

He talks about how one of these days, he's going to have a house built on the shore so he can be with you

And if you argue against it, he will shut down

The pent up frustration of not getting to sleep next to you every night makes his killings more brutal and his fantasies all the more darker

Vincent Sinclair

Every time he comes to see you, he brings a new portrait or wax figure of you that he made

You flood his dreams and his mind 24/7

He honestly thinks he's under some sort of spell

He doesn't mind that you aren't human like him

He's always felt very different from everyone else, so it's nice for him to have someone he relates to

But his jealousy constantly gets the better of him

Anytime you tell him of some poor soul you drowned, he can't help but feel his blood boil

Even if it ends in their death, he hates the idea of you flirting or seducing these people

The only one who should be receiving that attention is him

Barely sleeps at night

He has snuck to the shore countless time without your knowledge, just watching you and making sure your stories line up with what he observes

Is overall obsessed even more than you know

Bo Sinclair

If anyone saw you together, it would be enough to make them blush

The way you two can constantly flirt back and forth without any hesitation is otherworldly

You could have sworn he must have been a creature like you in a past life

He's so touchy when he's with you, not afraid to get his clothes wet in an effort to just be closer to you

He truly makes you feel accepted as you are and with where you live

But little do you know of his darker nature

He stalks the shore and kills off anyone that trespasses before you even have a chance to get to them

He doesn't need you looking at anyone but him

And he's already been renovating an old abandoned pool in Ambrose for you

You're going to finally be living with him like he's always wanted

You don't know this yet, but he's sure you'll be happy with the idea

It will be a great surprise

[archived-daydreams]

— First love, late spring.

Summary: what does it feel like, to fall in love with them?

Characters: Jing Yuan, Dan Heng, Gepard, Kafka, Bronya, Serval, Asta x gender neutral reader.

Word count: 1.2 k.

Tags: fluff.

Author’s note: my debut writing for Honkai Star Rail ! I know Jing Yuan hasn’t been released yet, so his part is just personal interpretation; all in all, these are just some sort of little headcanons I wanted to try imagining and writing down, I hope you enjoy <3

Reblog to support your favorite authors ! It helps more than likes.

JING YUAN

Falling in love with the Cloud Knight general feels like returning to a home you still hadn’t realized how much you’d longed for.

His calm presence draws you in, a melodious and crackling hearth beckoning you forward in shades of gold and skies at sundown. To stand beside him could be compared to entering a secret forest, where the moon rises as she kisses the dipping sun on the cheek as they meet at dusk. Birds chirp happily, as if revealing the songs your heart likes to play when you are with Jing Yuan, the heat in your cheeks, a manifestation of the firework embers lighting up the starry twilight. The general puts his arm around your shoulders, bringing your form closer to his, fluffy argent hair tickling the side of your neck.

You lean into him, the sunset looks a little brighter when your lover’s lips graze your temple.

And when his big calloused hand intertwines its fingers with yours, you know with him, anywhere is paradise.

DAN HENG

Scarlet maple forests feel more magical underneath the stars.

In the same way, pieces of every story and memory that constitute the wielder of Cloud-Piercer take form before your eyes as you make your way starwards.

Not one for many words or idle conversation, Dan Heng shows you the emotions he conceals to the public in small actions, starlit fragments only the one who dares to rummage between the layers of crimson leaves will uncover. Shielding you from unexpected enemies, helping you up and down the platform of the express, throwing a blanket over your shoulders when you inevitably pass out on the couch after running around with March… And when, still halfway into your realm of dreams, you call his name, a keen eye may spot on the express gurad’s cheeks some of the carmine usually adrift in the breeze in the autumn months.

Then again, if could be just your sleepy imagination…

Perhaps. is the lingering “what if” echoing on your mind.

GEPARD

The steady rock amidst a tumultuous ocean, relentless waves colliding against its silvery surface, time and time again.

Yet the rock does not yield.

Much in the same way the captain of the Silvermane Guards is your white-hot anchor in the blizzard.

No matter how hurt you are, Gepard stays.

No matter how drained and wasted your last breakup left you, his strong arms embrace you, the biting gales futile against his hold.

And maybe, taking notice of your own (and his) feelings might take you a while.

But Gepard Landau’s heart only knows loyalty.

So he waits.

For you to realize, for the sun to finally shine, and mark the path from you to him.

Because argent tends to reflect the skies, and only when the morning star deigns to shine, can the cobblestones tying you together gleam.

You take a step, and you know Gepard Landau is your only destination.

KAFKA

Exhilarating and with “danger” spelled in boldened capitals, that is how romance with the Stellaron’s Hunter feels.

The rational part of you warned you this was a bad idea, yet, as they say, sometimes, the heart wants what it wants.

Freedom prevailed that night, and your lips met the Interastral Peace Corporation’s most wanted’s.

It could have been the drinks you had, against your better judgment, the sweet intoxication of the alcohol in your system and of the temptation of her, a ticking bomb combination.

But caution is thrown to the wind the moment Kafka wraps her priced coat around your shoulders, her lips sensually whispering in your ear, promises of a million idyllic tomorrows together already tangling in the messy yarn ball of your mind.

But who are you to refuse? Or how could anyone, for that matter? When her painted lips envelop yours under the infinity of the firmament?

BRONYA

Dignified, smart, and the picture perfect image of what a heir should be like.

However, what is hidden beyond that icy facade of flawless poise?

Your sweet lover, a girl who enjoys the sound of tranquil nights and hurried steps by morning, someone who lets herself daydream to the faint music coming from Golden Theater.

A beautiful and enchanting contradiction, a storm of opposites you can’t help but get lost in, from the pretty curls of her lucent hair, to her determined gunmetal gaze.

Who would have thought, you think with a tender smile, as your hands run through her steel moonlit tresses, that you’d get to win the heart of the Heir to the Supreme Guardian of Belebog?

Leaving a soft kiss to the crown of her head, you lay down beside her in bed. With a last look out the window at the slate sky, you close your eyes.

The lyrics to a ballad swirl in your mind, probably coming from Golden Theater.

In the dim light, you find your girlfriend’s hand.

That night, Bronya Rand would be the actress in your oneiric plane, her heart, yours alone.

SERVAL

Electrifying and magnetizing, akin to a violet horizon right before a storm. The thunder in the distance makes your every hair stand on end, yet you can’t help longing for something more.

Afternoons helping Serval out at Neverwinter Workshop always end with you sitting before her, wide smile aglow on your features as she picks up her electric guitar. You always loved the way her sapphire eyes sparkled when she talked about this or that new song she was composing, but actually getting to see her perform for you alone… that’s enough to get you giddy.

Her painted nails strum the cords with ease, each of them bending at the workshop owner’s will, as lightning seems to take command of your heart, its thundering pace and the melody she plays seamlessly dancing to the beat of a fervent tango.

As the sky throws its indigo shawl over the lovers, the blonde gazes at you, a pretty (and unusual) rosy tone on her cheeks, a silent inquire for your thoughts about her new piece.

After all, you’re always the first one to hear every new song she comes up with.

ASTA

The girl who used to dream of naming stars after herself finally found a star that will always orbit around the fiery sun she is.

Her crystalline eyes look up from the papers she was sorting out until moments ago, her lips curving up in a crescent not unlike the one she used to observe, when she spots you.

Two cups of coffee in hand, you sit beside her, your head leaning on her shoulder. Your hand catches hers over the table, prompting her to stop the frantic scribbling of her pen.

And the instant her opalescent gaze meets yours, she is breathless, a nebula the color of her hair spreading through her cheeks. Her pen falls out of her grasp, the words she never seems at a loss for, failing her.

As they do every time when it comes to you.

But who could blame her? When she’d trade every galaxy and celestial body in this universe and the next for a millisecond next to you?

The lead researcher of Herta Space Station closes her notepad.

For now, work can wait.

[linberlyy]

HBO recently released a new video with mini-interviews with actors on green/black team. And do you know what conclusion we made? Our greens actors are so afraid to express their opinions and views on the actions of the characters that they begin to laugh them off, albeit in short phrases, and explain what we already know.

Just take a look:

Tom: “Why should Team Green be on the throne and not Team Black? My name is on the lease for the castle." (We know, Tom, how much you get hated, and we understand that this is all you can say in principle at such events).

Fabien: “I think it's more a loyalty thing for Cole. I think it's his loyalty to Alicent. He wants what she wants. I myself… no comments.” (I was already shy at the end, you are our sunshine).

Ewan: “Aemond, he was bullied and wronged as a kid. They carved his eye out. He bounced back. He put a sapphire gemstone in his eye. And yeah, they're gonna get what's coming to them.” (Here Ewan revealed what we've already...sort of...seen? Why do we need a summary of the events of the first season? Even the last encrypted phrase sounded without the connotation we needed, so that, obviously, God forbid, we put him against mailwife Daemon, against whom he is nothing).

Olivia: "We have bigger dragons." (Poor Olivia, she was hated, it seems, more than anyone else. She looks thinner and tighter. I really hope that we are wrong. They didn’t even say the words in using their party, just so as not to cause a storm of negativity, how dare this ungrateful person go against Rhaenyra!)

While the actors of the opposite side can afford to make too eloquent and provocative statements, it is clear that most of the normies will support them and begin to squeal with delight:

Steve: “Team Black should be on the throne instead of Team Green. Team Green are usurpers. Team Black are the rightful heirs. They were named by the King. They're just better looking, generally.” (Even green actors cannot afford to call their characters “legitimate” and make any comments in favor of the opposite side, but here there is just basic cringe. Everything we like).

Eve: “They're the best. And the annoying people are pretty obviously the Greens. They're all just a bunch of knobs, and they need their heads being knocked together." (No comments, right? Everything is clear here).

Harry: “Team Black are decent people. We are more of a functioning family. We do things the right way." (The funny thing is that the whole Dance is the struggle of ONE family. The fact that EVEN the actors divide both groups into TWO different families already says something, and we do not take this into account, as it is about the same persons in the scripts).

Phoebe: “I think we love each other way more. I think we have a family base that is incredible. (Yes, let's also compare who loves whom more).

Bethany: “Team Black are the most fun. We get on the most. They all hate each other. „You have no idea the sacrifices that were made to put you on the throne“. (In the video, after the actress’s words, they accidentally removed Alicent and Aegon from the trailer, obviously, there was a visible emphasis on the fact that there is no love in the green family, and in general they watched without exception, but with their black maniacs, everything is cool with them).

Matt: “My uncle is a challenge I welcome. If he dares face me." No chance. I'm coming for his head. I'm gonna put it on a spike. Me and Rhaenyra, there's a bloodline to us, isn't there? We're the thoroughbreds." (Compare Ewan's lines with his. There is a big difference. Matt has the ability to say things like this to please the surviving fans, while Ewan does not, because all he gets in response is judgment, hate speech and swearing. And the phrase “We're the thoroughbreds” each time comes closer and closer to the name of H*tler with his “pure Aryan blood”, don’t blame me).

Emma: "We have madness on our side. And we have a powerful naval presence. Thanks to the Velaryon fleet." (Ok, do we need to remind you in what right and wrong ways the characters got it? Do the Velaryons themselves even know what the key is? However, Emma’s words carry disgust, like the words of her fellow actors, so she’s just a bun. Thanks for that too).

Does anyone have any other suggestions as to which side we present to get our ass kissed? The answer is obvious.

[argisthebulwark]

We Can Get Lost, You & Me

summary: Scenarios that make them say please. gn reader, no pronouns or y/n used. feat: Vilkas, Miraak, Farkas, Brynjolf warnings: canon typical mention of blood/injury and death, sexually suggestive content. minors should not read or interact.

Vilkas says it through gritted teeth. Every inch of his body is screaming for him to close the distance between you - it’s a couple measly steps, after all. Only a few steps keep him from kissing you but he refrains. He refuses to lose this little game you’ve been playing for weeks; dancing around each other, flirty comments and touches meant to get under the others skin, the constant heat simmering heat between you. It’s as exciting as it is infuriating.  “Please.” He finally breaks, fists clenched on the arms of his chair. Your little laugh makes his blood boil when you climb into his lap, hands combing through his hair to tilt his head back. He relishes your fingers trailing over his jaw and the victorious smile on your lips.  “Does this mean I won?” You tease, though he’s too distracted to be annoyed. It’s so easy to slide his hands over your hips and draw you in, to finally indulge in what he’s wanted for too long. 

Miraak is not one to plead - he only says it when he is broken, when he is on the verge of death and has nothing left but you. When his eyes are wide and terrified, ink stained fingers grasping your armor as the world tilts around you. Your blade rests at his throat just as the prophecy described. Whoever foretold your future did not expect you to hesitate, to look into those deep green eyes and feel your heart wrench.  “Please, Dragonborn.” Miraak pants, blood staining the front of his robes. “Allow me one more chance.” “Why should I trust you?” In your heart you know that it is fruitless, your blade never sought to kill him. The only wounds you’ve left are superficial, a warning that you are as strong as him.  “You shouldn’t.” Miraak admits, each breath bringing your blade dangerously close to his skin. “Look into your heart, Dragonborn. Please, allow me a chance to earn your trust.”

Farkas looks at you with stars in his eyes, cheeks flushed and an easy smile on his face. He’s so gentle when he holds your face, kissing you until you feel dizzy. He’s so warm and close, all your senses dominated by him. Sunlight peeks through the hastily shut curtains alerting you that you’re late but here you sit, sluggishly untangling your limbs from his.  “Please don’t go.” He murmurs into your skin between kisses, eager hands exploring every curve of you. “You don’t have to leave, not yet.”  “I do have to leave.” You insist, though it’s far too easy to fall back into bed with him. Strong arms are around you before you can blink, lips trailing up your shoulder to your throat as he smothers you in kisses.  “Stay with me, please.” Farkas insists. Against your better judgment, you do. 

Brynjolf, who learned so long ago to shove his needs aside for the sake of others. The man who doesn't dare ask for a thing if it doesn't benefit the Guild, begs for one more day. Hell, he'd take another minute. His tears have dried, muscles sore from sobbing and pleading with whatever god bothers to listen to him. None answered, so his pleas are solely for you. "Please, love. Don't do this to me." He mumbles, stumbling through the snow. Mercer hadn't even bothered to bring your body back, leaving Brynjolf with a long trek. "Don't leave me." A senseless little spark of home remains in his heart - you cannot be dead. Surely he would have felt it. "Please, just come back. We'll figure it all out. I'm almost there, I'll get you home safe. Just hold on a little longer for me."

[actuallysaiyan]

Hi baby! Can I please get Enji as the dragon saying the prompt: “How dare you come into my lair and not realize what you were getting yourself into?” Amazing event, Bacon! Love you lots!

warnings: mentions of breeding, heavy petting, grinding, breast play, mentions of fire and slight violence, dragon AU pairings: Dragon!Enji Todoroki x Fem!Reader

Dragons always fascinated you. Ever since you were a young woman, you found yourself looking up to the skies to see them flying. You wanted to meet them. You wanted to know who they were, how they enjoyed the skies and their hopes and dreams. The issue is that most of the dragon hybrids were much too dangerous to talk to.

Still you found yourself so intrigued. You wanted to talk to them and you wanted to seek them out for yourself. So you thought the only logical thing to do was to break into one of their lairs and talk to them yourself.

The mountain journey to the lair wasn’t easy. It took you a few days. But you were not about to give up. Not when you were pretty sure you’d be breaking into the lair of the dragon you admired the most. He was a flame dragon. His scales were brilliant and shining. Dark orange and red colors adorned his body when he was fully transformed. You had only heard rumors about what he looked like when he wasn’t in his dragon form.

You finally got to the stairwell to his lair. It was a little mossy, broken down and treacherous. You wondered just how long ago a human came up here. The other dragons were a little more open about their lairs, but Enji was not. He was fearsome and troublesome, or so the rumors said about him.

When you reach the top, you can smell smoke and burnt wood. You open the door, despite your better judgment. You should turn back now and make your way back down to the village. But you’re too stubborn to go back now. You need to know what’s in here. You want to see what he looks like when he’s in his human form.

For Enji, it’s been so long since he’s had a human in here. He’s been lonely. He’s been missing companionship. So the minute you walk in there, he’s already pouncing on you. He’s got bright blue eyes and dark red hair. He’s big and buff, and he manages to pin you to the wall quickly.

“Oh look,” he purrs softly. “A little human in my lair.”

Your heart is thumping wildly in your chest. You didn’t think he’d be so eager to be this close to you. He surprises you with a searing kiss. He smells like scorched earth and it excites you. He’s even more intriguing now that he’s decided to greet you with a kiss.

Enji brings you towards his nest. It’s a cozy futon with different colored blankets on it. He lays you down softly, His hands are quite the opposite as he undresses you; they are eager and rough. He leaves a few marks on you from his claws. You try to squirm away, but he’s already got you pinned to the bed.

You feel his erection pressed against you as he looks down into your eyes. He’s grinding against you, fast and harshly. His hands are on your breasts, and he’s kissing you like he needs you more than oxygen.

“W-wait…” you breathe out between kisses. “Don’t you want to know why I’m here?”

He grins ferociously, “I know why you’re here. You’re here to breed.”

You push him off you, “N-no! What? Wait…breed?” Now you’re excited.

He laughs. “How dare you come into my lair and not realize what you were getting yourself into?”

Enji then buries his face in the crook of your neck, kissing and biting as he continues to grind against you. Suddenly the thought of breeding with your favorite dragon seems like a good idea.

dividers: @adornedwithlight

reblogs and comments always appreciated!

©actuallysaiyan 2024– do not repost on other platforms, copy, translate or edit my works!

[nephalem-da]

was just stalking ur page and omg human bill and the whole monster trope u wrote?? pls consider p2 im so invested.. would love to see it!! <33

The Hunt

Part 2

(Human!Bill Cipher x GN!Reader)

Option 1 won ∑d(°∀°d)

Genre: Dark Romance, Thriller, Psychological Drama

Warnings: Obsession, Manipulation, Captivity, Emotional Distress, Non-consensual behavior, Power imbalance, Dark themes, Possessiveness

Summary: What was once a subtle connection between them has spiraled into a twisted game of control and survival.

The wind howled through the forest, the scent of salt from the distant ocean mixing with the earthy tones of the wild. Every rustle of the leaves and every snap of a twig felt like a reminder of the night you had been caught. Bill’s relentless pursuit of you had ended with your capture—an elegant and cruel trap woven by the man who was more cunning than any hunter you had ever encountered.

At first, you had expected cruelty. Bill was no stranger to games of control, his pursuit of you almost predatory, and his reputation painted him as nothing more than a monster draped in a human guise. Yet, after the initial chase, there had been something… different.

The first few days after your capture had been filled with tension, the cage separating you from Bill acting as a constant reminder of your situation. You had tried to resist him—pulling away from his attempts at conversation, glaring whenever he dared to flirt with you. But Bill didn’t seem to mind your resistance. In fact, he almost seemed to enjoy it.

"Come on, don’t be like that, sweetheart," he had teased, leaning against the bars of the cage that held you. "I caught you fair and square, didn’t I? The least you could do is talk to me."

You had refused, staring at him with silent defiance. But Bill never faltered. He kept talking, kept flirting, like this was all some game to him.

What you didn’t expect was how the silence started to wear on you. How, despite yourself, you found his words oddly comforting. It wasn’t love—at least not then—but there was a strange dynamic forming between you two. Something deeper than prey and predator.

It had been a few weeks since he caught you, and something had changed. The flirtatious comments from Bill had started feeling less like a taunt and more like genuine attention. His smiles weren’t just the sharp, amused ones you had seen in the beginning—there were softer moments, times when he looked at you as though you weren’t just a trophy, but something more.

You began speaking to him, at first short, clipped responses, but slowly more. You were cautious, keeping your walls up, but there was a strange pull you couldn’t deny. His eyes would light up when you spoke, his voice taking on a different tone whenever you gave in to the conversation. Bill Cipher, the ever-cocky hunter, seemed almost… vulnerable when you opened up.

And it was during one of these late-night conversations, the moonlight spilling through the trees, that he made his move.

“You know,” Bill said, leaning against the door of the cage with that familiar glint in his eyes, “I could let you out of there. Let you stretch your legs a bit.”

You raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “Out there, where you have all your lackeys watching?”

Bill smirked, unlocking the cage door with a flick of his wrist. “Nah, not out there. My place. Just us. What do you say?”

The hesitation lingered, but a part of you wanted the freedom—no matter how limited it was. Against your better judgment, you stepped out, and Bill led you through the dark forest to his mansion-like tent set up further into the woods. Despite the luxuries inside, the locked doors reminded you of your situation.

Bill gave you space but stayed close, watching you like a hawk. He acted casual, pretending it was nothing, but the way his gaze followed your every movement told a different story. It wasn’t just attraction anymore—it was something far more dangerous.

At first, things felt… manageable. You could almost believe that the mutual flirting, the teasing, was harmless. That maybe this strange connection between you two wasn’t so bad. Maybe Bill could be reasoned with, maybe he wasn’t as twisted as you first thought. But then the possessiveness started to seep in.

It began with small things. Bill getting frustrated when you didn’t answer his questions right away, his moods swinging violently whenever you showed any sign of rebellion. The way his eyes darkened when you spoke about your past, your freedom, your desire to return to the ocean.

“What’s the rush?” he’d ask, his tone playful but laced with something darker. “You’ve got everything you need here. I’m not so bad, am I?”

You’d laugh it off, trying to keep things light. But you could see the way his smile never quite reached his eyes anymore. The way his gaze lingered a little too long, the way his words became sharper whenever you mentioned leaving.

There was a night when you realized just how far things had spiraled. Bill had brought you back to his tent after another casual day of conversation, but the mood had shifted. His usually playful teasing had an edge to it, a possessive undercurrent that made your skin crawl. When you had tried to walk away, to find some space, his hand shot out, grabbing your wrist.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous.

You had frozen, eyes wide as you met his gaze. There was something unhinged in his expression, something that made your heart race in a way that had nothing to do with attraction.

“I-I just need some air,” you stammered, pulling your arm free.

Bill didn’t let go immediately, his grip tightening for just a moment before he released you. His smile returned, but it was strained, forced.

“Don’t go too far, sweetheart. Wouldn’t want you to get lost, would we?”

That was when you knew you had made a mistake. You had let your guard down, let him in too close, and now you were paying the price.

It happened quickly after that. One night, something snapped. Maybe it was the way you had distanced yourself, maybe it was the fact that you had finally tried to leave for real. Whatever it was, Bill had caught on, and his response had been immediate.

You had bolted from the mansion, running through the dark woods, your heart pounding in your chest. The ocean was close, so close you could almost taste the salt in the air. But Bill was faster, his footsteps pounding behind you, his voice cutting through the night like a blade.

“You can’t run from me!” he called, his voice wild with frustration and something far more dangerous. “You think you can just leave? After everything?”

You pushed yourself harder, your legs burning as you sprinted toward the cliffs. The sea roared beneath you, the waves crashing against the rocks far below. If you could just make it to the water, if you could just dive in, you’d be safe.

But Bill was relentless.

The wind whipped against your face, the ocean stretching out below, an endless expanse of freedom just out of reach. You stood frozen at the edge of the cliff, your heart pounding in your chest as the salty air filled your lungs. The drop was dizzying, but that didn’t scare you as much as the sound of Bill’s footsteps slowly approaching from behind.

He had never looked this dangerous. The playful teasing, the sly grins, the cocky demeanor—all of it was gone now, replaced by something far more menacing. His blue eyes gleamed in the moonlight, the tension in his expression sharp as a blade.

“There’s nowhere to run, sweetheart,” Bill called out softly, his voice almost gentle despite the manic undertone. “You’ve had your fun, but it’s over. You’re not getting away from me.”

Your legs trembled as you glanced down at the ocean again, the waves crashing against the rocks far below. One leap and you could be free. Free from Bill, free from his possessive gaze, free from this twisted game of cat and mouse. But would you survive the fall?

“Don’t do it,” Bill’s voice interrupted your thoughts, softer now, as if he could read your mind. “You won’t make it. You know that, right?”

You could feel his presence closing in, his footsteps slow but steady, as though he knew you were already cornered. Desperation clawed at your chest. Maybe if you could dive into the water, you could escape his grasp, but your selkie form felt so distant, so unreachable in your panic.

"Why...why are you doing this?" you whispered, your voice hoarse as you turned to face him, your back to the precipice. Bill’s expression softened for a moment—just for a moment—but the darkness in his gaze lingered.

"Why? Because I want you. Because I need you." His lips curled into a smirk, but it didn’t reach his eyes. "You were mine the moment I laid eyes on you."

Your breath hitched. This wasn’t the Bill you had seen glimpses of in those quiet moments. This wasn’t the man who had admired your voice, who had teased you with soft smiles and witty banter. This was someone else—someone dangerous.

"You don’t have to do this," you tried, your voice trembling. "You can let me go. You—"

Bill’s laughter cut you off, sharp and cold. "Let you go?" he echoed, stepping closer until he was only a few feet away. "Sweetheart, you don’t understand. I’m not letting you go. Not now. Not ever."

Before you could react, Bill lunged forward, his hand reaching out to grab your wrist with surprising force. You gasped, your body instinctively pulling back, but the cliff was right behind you. There was nowhere to go. His grip was like iron, and as you struggled, the realization hit you: he wasn’t playing anymore.

"Don’t fight it," Bill murmured, pulling you close, his breath hot against your skin. "You’ve already lost, and you know it."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you stared up at him, your heart pounding in your chest. The man who had once been your flirtatious captor now held you with a possessive intensity that sent chills down your spine. This wasn’t love. This was something far darker.

"Let me go," you whispered, barely audible.

Bill’s grip tightened, his eyes narrowing as he leaned in closer. "No," he whispered back, his voice cold. "You’re mine."

And then, without warning, he yanked you forward, pulling you away from the cliff’s edge and back into his arms. You stumbled, your body crashing into his chest, and before you could even register what had happened, Bill’s arms wrapped around you like a vice, holding you in place.

"See?" he murmured into your ear, his voice dripping with triumph. "Much better."

You struggled in his hold, your heart racing as panic set in. But Bill’s grip was unrelenting, his body pressed against yours as he held you close, his breath hot against your neck.

"You don’t need to run," he whispered, his tone softening slightly. "You’re safe with me. I’ll take care of you."

Safe? The word rang hollow in your ears. This wasn’t safety. This was control. You could feel it in the way his hands clung to you, the way his voice wavered between possessiveness and something darker. You had let your guard down, and now you were trapped.

"I... I trusted you," you whispered, your voice shaking with fear and anger.

Bill’s lips curled into a cruel smile. "And that’s where you made your mistake, darling."

The walk back to his camp felt like a blur. Bill never loosened his grip on you, his arm wrapped around your waist as he guided you through the forest. Every step felt like a chain tightening around your freedom, pulling you deeper into his world, into his grasp. You thought about escaping again, but Bill seemed to sense every thought before you acted on it. His possessive gaze never left you, even as he led you into the safety of his tent.

Once inside, he locked the door behind you with a simple flick of his fingers, sealing your fate. There was no way out now. You were his prisoner once more.

He led you to a chair and forced you to sit, his hands resting on your shoulders as he stood behind you, watching you with that same unsettling intensity. “Relax,” he cooed, his fingers brushing against your skin. “You’ll get used to it. You’ll see. You won’t need anything—or anyone—else.”

Your heart pounded in your chest as you stared at the locked door, the reality of your situation sinking in.

Bill wasn’t going to let you go.

And he had no intention of giving you back your freedom.

Ya guys want an alternative part 2? This time it's fluff and I already made a rough draft of it!!

[prettywhenicryyyyyyyy]

What are we?

park sunghoon / one shot

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖.

★ pairing : sunghoon × fem reader

★ content : f! reader x sunghoon, high school situationship, making out, out of jealousy

★ gnere : situationship, friend with benefits

★ 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 : smut- 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝖼𝗎𝗋𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀, nipples licking, bite fetish, 𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗌𝖾𝗌𝗂𝗏𝖾 and 𝗃𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌 𝗌𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗁𝗈𝗈n, emotionally unavailable and cold hearted sunghoon. D𝗈 𝗅𝖾𝗍 𝗆𝖾 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗂𝖿 𝗂 𝗆𝗂𝗌𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀.

song suggestions (while reading this):

friends by chase atlantic

house of balloons / glass table girls by the weeknd

You were like two opposite ends of a magnet, drawn to each other but always repelled. He was emotionally unavailable, closed off and guarded, while you were an introvert who craved connection. And yet, despite your differences, you found themselves in a messy, complicated whirlwind of a situationship.

There was something about Park Sunghoon, He was a man who could charm any woman with his smile alone, his chiseled features and striking eyes drawing them in like moths to a flame. Yet, beneath that handsome exterior lay a heart of ice, cold and unyielding to any who dared to try and break through. One look into his steely gaze and you knew that love was not something that came easily to him, if at all. Despite his cold-hearted nature, he was fiercely possessive of you. Whenever he saw other guys paying attention to you, a dark anger would rise in him, and he would glare at them with a steely intensity that made them scurry away. But when he looked at you, his expression softened, and it was like you were the most precious thing in the world to him. He may have been popular in school, but when it came to you, he was utterly captivated.

in the evening

"excited to see me tomorrow?" he texted

"you wish" you replied.

"Is that a challenge?" he teased "Because I am pretty sure i can make you admit that you can't resist me" he said

*sighs*

"You're so full of yourself" you retorted with playful sarcasm "As if i'd ever admit something like that to you"

"You will tomorrow." he replied

"huh? Alright see you tomorrow"

"don't be late, I dont want to waste my time waiting for you" he said

"yes, i won't be late"

As you lay in bed that night, your thoughts kept drifting to sunghoon with the captivating eyes and the possessive demeanor. You couldn't help but wonder what he was doing right now, if he was thinking about you too, if he cared about you like you cared about him. Despite his aloofness, you couldn't deny the undeniable pull he had on you, the magnetic force that drew you in despite you better judgment.

in the morning

You arrived at school with a mix of nervousness and anticipation swirling in your stomach. As you made your way through the halls, your eyes scanned the crowd for any sign of sunghoon. You tried to act nonchalant, but you couldn't help feeling a flutter of excitement at the thought of seeing him again.

As you walked through the crowded hallway, completely lost in your own thoughts, a voice suddenly spoke from behind you "Hey, what's up?" Sunghoon, had sneaked up behind you, a smirk playing on his lips as he watched you startle. As he hugged you, your body pressed against his, you were just about to start telling him about a problem you were having when he suddenly interrupted you. "Not now," he said tersely, his tone making it clear that he wasn't interested in whatever it was you had to say.

He held you tighter, as if trying to shut out the world and keep you all to himself.

You took a deep breath and summoned up the courage to speak her mind. "Can we discuss something serious for a moment?" you asked, your voice steady despite the nerves gnawing at your insides.

He looked down at you, a hint of surprise in his eyes. "What is it?" he said, his tone a little less dismissive than usual.

"I was wondering if we could talk about our relationship," she continued. "I feel like we care about each other, and I think it's time we take this thing further."

His eyes darkened at your words, his irritation apparent. "Why are you rushing things?" he repeated, his voice laced with annoyance. "We're fine the way things are now. I don't see why we need to change anything." The discussion quickly escalated into a full-blown argument.

"I'm not happy just being your casual fling," you said, your voice rising in volume. "I want more than just physical contact. I want an actual relationship."

He clenched his jaw, his expression tight with anger. "That's all this is to me," he snapped. "A casual fling. I don't do relationships, I've told you that from the start. If you can't handle that, then maybe you need to find someone else" and he left.

You couldn't help but feeling a swirl of emotions - sad, angry, and confused. You couldn't understand why he wouldn't even consider a real relationship with you, why he was so intent on keeping things casual. It hurt you to know that he didn't value your emotional needs as much as he did the physical aspect of their connection.

in the classroom

As you entered the classroom, already feeling vulnerable and upset from your fight with sunghoon. As you took your seat, jake from your class who had been crushing on you for years approached you with a sly grin on his face. "Hey, beautiful," he purred, leaning in close and making your skin crawl. His eyes roamed over your body, taking in your every move and making it abundantly clear that he was undressing you in his mind.

"Back off, you creep" you replied through gritted teeth

"what's the matter, sweetheart?" he asked in a mocking tone.

He stepped even closer, invading your personal space and making you feel cramped and claustrophobic.

Sunghoon had been lurking in the background, watching the entire interaction between you and jake. He had seen your discomfort and fear, and it enraged him. When jake tried to touch your waist, his eyes narrowed, hands clenched into fists as he felt the intense primal jealousy and possessive desire to claim you as his own. .He strode over, anger etched across his face, and delivered a hard punch to Jake's jaw, sending him sprawling to the floor. Jake staggered backward, stunned by the unexpected attack. He brought a hand to his aching jaw, his eyes wide with disbelief and anger as he stared up at sunghoon who stood over him. His lips curled up in a sinister, cruel smile.

Jake: "So what's your deal, Sunghoon? I see you're all possessive and protective over her, but you're too emotionally unavailable to actually make her your girlfriend, right?"

Sunghoon's expression darkened at Jake's words, his eyes narrowing as he clenched his fists.

Sunghoon: "Shut up, Jake. You don't know anything about us."

Jake: "Oh, I think I know enough. You act like you care, but you're just too scared to commit."

Sunghoon grabbed him by the collar, his eyes widening with fear. his voice was cold and dangerous as he spoke, his eyes gleaming with anger.

"Listen to me, you little scumbag," he hissed through gritted teeth. "You've got two options. Either you get the hell out of her sight right now, or I'll kill you. Understand?"

Jake pushed sunghoon back, his eyes gleamed with mockery as he continued to goad Sunghoon.

"You're a goddamn coward, Sunghoon," he hissed. "You act like you're so tough and strong, but when it comes to committing to a relationship, you're nothing but a weak-ass coward.

"You're lucky I don't kill you right now," Sunghoon growled, his eyes filled with rage. Then he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving Jake lying on the ground, clutching his bleeding nose and nursing his bruised ego.

As Sunghoon stalked away, the other students parted like the Red Sea, giving him a wide berth. They knew better than to get in his way when he was in this kind of mood.

You were frightened by Sunghoon's sudden outburst of anger. It was a side of him you hadn't seen before, and it raised questions about his true nature.

You reached out to Sunghoon as he started to walk away, feeling a mixture of worry and anger.

"What the hell was that?" you said, your voice sharp. "You can't just go around attacking people because they say something you don't like."

He stopped and looked back at you his expression a mix of anger and frustration.

"You don't understand," he said, his voice gruff. "He was being a dick, and he had it coming.

You questioned "Why do you care so deeply? What are we?" sunghoon found himself speechless. You demanded, "If you care so much, why can't you just accept us and what we have?"

Without answering your question sunghoon silently walked off to the school game room, his thoughts swirling with the conversation just had with you. He couldn't ignore the growing questions about undefined situation and the need for clear boundaries, you followed him your curiosity about him and the complicated relationship driving you forward.

As you entered the game room, you spotted him near the pool table, a mixture of anticipation and nerves coursing through you. Desperate to avoid the inevitable conversation, you grabbed a pool stick, feigning interest in the game. Your fingers trembled slightly. He looked at you with a playful grin and said, "You're holding the stick all wrong, sweetheart." His voice held a hint of flirtation that sent a shiver down your spine. He took a step closer, holding the pool stick in one hand. "Let me show you how to play pool y/n" His tone was smooth as he positioned himself behind you, adjusting her grip on the stick, his touch sending a jolt through your body. You could feel his breath on her neck, stirring a mix of nerves and excitement. His dick was hard, As he stood near you.

As his lips inched closer to your neck, your pulse quickened, betraying the effect his proximity had on her. His hands encircled your waist, pulling you closer to him. Your breath hitched "What are-"

"shhh" he whispered "no more questions, no more rules." His touch sent a shiver down your spine, he turned your face towards his, catching your lips in a passionate kiss. She melted into the kiss. He wrapped his arms around you, lifting you effortlessly onto the pool table. your legs hugged his hips as he closed any remaining space between bodies, his hands roaming over your curves. "I get defensive and insecure because you're mine, mine to have and to hold" he said as he grabbed your throat "He nipped and sucked your neck, leaving a trail of hickeys that marked you as his own. Your body trembled, strange desire to submit, to surrender, to be owned by him, flared within you, making it difficult to resist his dominant possessiveness. You could only manage a breathless "Yes" in response. His touch was making you weak. You let out a soft moan *unnghhh* unable to resist the sensations he was stirring within you.

He smirked at her response and whispered, "Yeah, that's what I like. Let me hear you," his voice a seductive drawl "I'd pin you against the wall and kiss you right in front that fucker jake, just to remind him you're mine"

"Please," she whispered, her voice a mix of pleading and desire, "claim me, make me yours, I don't want anyone else, I just want you. Sunghoon's hands moved to your shirt, unbuttoning it slowly, revealing your perfect cleavage with each button undone. His touch was light but firm. "I guess now i know why i have canines" he whispered. He leaned in and bit your boobs, his teeth leaving a mark on your boobs your body arching towards his as you gasped in response. His tongue traced the mark he left, soothing the burning sensation before nipping her again, harder this time. You were aware of Sunghoon's bite fetish now, and it only heightened the sensations you felt as he continued to leave bites and hickeys all over your skin. Each bite was a claim, making you feel more and more like his possession. Despite the slight pain, you found yourself arching towards his mouth, silently begging him for more, her body craving the mixture of pain and pleasure that his bites caused.

Sunghoon, watching your reactions with dark satisfaction, didn't hesitate to slide your bra down, leaving your boobs completely exposed. His eyes roamed over your boobs "Fuck" he said with seductin in his voice. Sunghoon leaned in, his tongue swiping across your nipples, a mix of claiming and taste. He couldn't get enough of your nipples, wanting to memorize every inch of her body with his lips and tongue.

"You taste sweeter than I imagined, " he whispered, his breath against your skin making you shiver, "You're mine and I'm taking every part of you that I can," he growled, his voice rough and possessive. When you moaned his name, Sunghoon felt a burst of possessive satisfaction. Your submission to him only served to fuel his possessive desire further.

"That's right," he muttered, his mouth moving along her skin, leaving a trail of kisses and bites. "Say my name again, I want to hear you moan it, I want to hear you begging for me." As you lost control, your body was completely in sync with his touch, her every thought and action driven by your desire for him.

"I need you, Sunghoon," you whispered, your voice a hoarse gasp. "I need more, I need all of you, do whatever you want with me, I'm yours." He grabbed your boobs taking a firm gentle hold. As she lost control, her body was completely in sync with his touch, her every thought and action driven by her desire for him. "Say it," he ordered "Say you're mine."

"I'm yours." you said in a breathless whisper "That's right" he murmured.

His face was now buried in between your boobs, his breathing heavy and hot against your sensitive skin. He inhaled deeply, as if he was trying to capture your very essence. His hands continued their possessive hold on your body, his grip tight and unyielding.

"You're mine," he muttered again, his voice muffled against her skin, "Completely mine, every last inch of you."

────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ

hope you enjoyed! let me know which part made you giggle.

[mccall-muffin]

The Lady and the Major - Part 1/3 // John "Bucky" Egan x OC

Summary: Major Bucky Egan is on leave in London, and what else is there to do than to drink, sing, have a good time, and... of course, ladies. But then he meets Liz, a Lady of the Court, and Bucky is immediately entangled in her net.

Warnings: Language, teasing, use of alcohol - soldiers being soldiers

A/N: Okay, wow... I thought today: "Uh, I have an idea for a OneShot with Bucky Egan," and now I'm sitting here with a three-part story. Jeeeeeez... Uh, but what you gonna do. (I've only seen the first two Episodes of MotA as of now, but... I just love Callum)

Here is my Masterlist

Tags: @liebgotts-lovergirl, @softly-writes, @mads-weasley, @brassknucklespeirs, @softguarnere

(Sorry mates, you just have to be tagged ;))

The Ritz, London, 1943

The opulent bar of the Ritz in London, brimming with the raucous laughter and chatter of soldiers on leave. The air is thick with smoke, jazz music fills the background, and the atmosphere is charged with the night's excitement.

Major John "Bucky" Egan, surrounded by a rowdy group of fellow American soldiers, is the life of the party. His laughter is loudest, his stories the most captivating, and his gaze roams freely, appreciative of the scenery—particularly the women who add a touch of glamour to the smoky room.

Bucky, with a glass of whiskey in hand, leans back, surveying the room with a smug grin. "Gentlemen," he boasts, "London's no match for a Yank with charm. Watch and learn."

His eyes, however, catch a sight that stops him mid-sentence—a vision of elegance seated across the bar. Lady Elizabeth Cavendish, unbeknownst to him, sits alone, her posture the epitome of grace, a long, slender cigarette holder elegantly poised in her hand. The soft glow of the bar lights catches her blonde hair and the sparkle in her blue eyes, making her seem almost ethereal.

Bucky's usual confidence wavers for a moment, his friends noticing the sudden change. "Well, I'll be damned... Who's that?" Bucky mutters, more to himself than anyone else.

One of the British soldiers, a man who has seen his fair share of high society, leans over, a knowing look in his eyes. "That, Yank, is Lady Elizabeth Cavendish. The Duke of Wellington's daughter. I'd tread carefully if I were you. She's out of your league."

Bucky's grin returns, cockier than before. "Out of my league? Buddy, there's no league I can't play in. Watch me."

With a swagger in his step, Bucky makes his way over to Elizabeth, his comrades watching eagerly, some with admiration, others with skepticism, and some with knowing faces.

"Evening, miss. Can I say you light up this room brighter than the London Blitz," he says cockily, letting his charm play.

Elizabeth doesn't even glance up from her drink at first, taking a slow drag from her cigarette. When she finally turns her gaze towards him, it's with an air of amusement. "And can I say that's the most American pickup line I've ever heard?"

Bucky, undeterred, flashes a grin. "Major John Egan, at your service. But for you... You can call me Bucky. And you are?"

Elizabeth finally offers him a small, knowing smile. "Elizabeth Cavendish. And I'm quite aware of who you are, Major Egan. Your reputation precedes you."

Bucky, leaning against the bar closer to Liz, his confidence seemingly unshaken. "Is that so? And what have you heard?"

Liz, taking another slow drag from her cigarette, eyes Bucky with a mixture of interest and challenge. "Oh, just that you're quite the charmer. A real ladies' man. Or so you believe."

The air between them crackles with a mix of tension and intrigue. Bucky, for once, finds himself having to work to maintain his usual smug demeanor. "And what about you, Lady Elizabeth? Do you enjoy games?"

Liz's smile widens, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh, Major, I don't just enjoy them. I excel at them. Care to play?"

The challenge hangs in the air, a silent dare that Bucky, despite the warnings and his better judgment, finds himself unable to resist. "You're on. Let the games begin."

As Bucky signals the bartender for another round of drinks, his fellow soldiers exchange glances, some shaking their heads, others betting amongst themselves on the outcome. What none of them realize is that in the game of seduction and wit, Liz is a master strategist, and Bucky might have just met his match.

Bucky leans closer, his confidence unwavering. "So, Liz, you don't mind me calling you Liz, right?" he starts, the smug smile never leaving his face, "I've flown some of the most dangerous missions over Germany, you know. But I must say, navigating this conversation with you feels like my most thrilling challenge yet."

Liz lets out a soft, amused laugh. "Major Egan, I've met many men who believe their war stories could sweep a girl off her feet. And maybe it actually does some. But it's going to take more than tales of aerial feats to impress me," she replies, her voice laced with a teasing sarcasm that only someone of her breeding and wit could perfect.

The night progresses, and with each drink, Bucky becomes more audacious, his hand finding its way to the small of Liz's back, a bold move that, in any other circumstance, would have guaranteed success. Liz, however, is not any woman he's encountered before. She plays along, leaning in as if captivated by his charm, her lips tantalizingly close to his, only to pull away at the last moment, leaving him wanting more.

Their conversation ebbs and flows, with Bucky regaling her with his exploits, each tale more daring than the last. Yet, Liz remains unimpressed, her blue eyes sparkling with amusement rather than awe. It's a dance they're both familiar with, but in this instance, Liz leads, her every move calculated to keep him on his toes.

As the night wears on, Liz finishes her drink, placing the glass delicately on the bar. She rises from her stool, the movement graceful and deliberate. "Well, Major, it has been... interesting," she says, her tone implying a myriad of things left unsaid.

Bucky, taken aback by her sudden desire to leave, scrambles to his feet. "Wait, Liz, why don't you stay for another drink? The night is still young, and I feel we've barely scratched the surface."

Liz turns to him, a sly smile playing on her lips. "I'm afraid I have other engagements to attend to, Major. But I must thank you for the entertainment," she teases, her gaze piercing through him with a challenge that silently says she's not one to be easily conquered.

As she walks away, Bucky watches, a mix of frustration and fascination written across his face. For the first time, he's encountered a woman who not only matches his wit but exceeds it, leaving him in uncharted territory. Liz, with her aristocratic poise and undeniable charm, has turned the tables on him, making it clear that if he wishes to pursue her, he's in for a game unlike any he's played before.

Returning to his comrades, Bucky's expression is a mix of irritation and resolve, a stark contrast to the confident swagger he had before approaching Liz. The British soldiers, having observed the entire exchange, can't help but wear smirks of "told you so" on their faces.

"Well, Major, looks like the ice queen has claimed another victim," one of the Brits comments, clapping Bucky on the shoulder with a laugh that's both sympathetic and mocking.

Bucky, undeterred, shoots back, "This isn't over. Not by a long shot."

Another British soldier chimes in, swirling his drink, "Mate, many have tried to climb that mountain. From viscounts to earls, not a single one has reached the summit. Lady Cavendish is... well, she's a fortress."

"Yeah, heard she loves to make sport of men, seeing who can try and fail the most spectacularly," adds a third, his tone laced with a mix of admiration and warning.

One of Bucky's American friends, attempting to find a solution, suggests, "Did you pull the pilot card? Chicks love pilots." The suggestion hangs in the air until another British soldier, who had been quietly listening, interjects, "Her brother's Captain Edward Cavendish, Royal Air Force war hero. Your pilot card might as well be a library card."

The revelation doesn't dampen Bucky's spirits; if anything, it fuels his determination. His jaw sets firmly, the challenge now more personal than ever. "So, she's used to high-flyers, huh? Well, she hasn't met anyone like me. I'm not just any pilot; I'm Major Bucky Egan. And I don't give up that easily."

The group looks at him, a mix of skepticism and intrigue in their eyes. They know Bucky for his tenacity, his charm, and his unwillingness to back down from a challenge. But Lady Elizabeth Cavendish is not just any challenge—she's a high-stakes game that many have lost.

As the night winds down and the group disperses, Bucky's mind races with plans. He knows winning over someone like Lady Cavendish won't be easy, but he's always loved a challenge. The thought of her, with her piercing blue eyes and that untouchable aura, only makes him more determined. He's ready to prove that he's not like the others, that he's someone who stands out, even in a crowd of heroes.

The stage is set for a captivating game of wit, charm, and strategy. Bucky's resolve and Liz's cunning promise a tale of intrigue, where each move could either draw them closer or push them further apart.

In the soft morning light filtering through the hotel's dining room windows, Bucky and his fellow soldiers are halfway through their breakfast, the air filled with the light-hearted banter typical of men who've faced much together. The sudden approach of a concierge, bearing the unmistakable posture of formal importance, silences the table. With a discreet cough to announce his presence, the concierge presents a silver platter to Bucky.

Bucky, eyebrows raised in surprise, picks up the envelope resting on the platter. The envelope itself is a work of art, the calligraphy on the front flawlessly executed, hinting at the significance of its contents. His name, "Major John Egan, US Air Force," is inscribed with elegant flourishes that speak of a bygone era of meticulous attention to detail.

As he carefully opens the envelope, the anticipation among his comrades is palpable. They watch as Bucky's initial confusion shifts to an understanding smile, a silent acknowledgment of the ongoing saga that had captivated them since last night. He pulls out the invitation, and it reads:

Major John Egan,

It is with great pleasure that Arthur Cavendish, Duke of Wellington, and Margaret Cavendish, Duchess of Wellington, extend to you an invitation to a gala being held at our family estate, Wellington House, on the evening of this day.

This event will assemble distinguished individuals from various sectors of British and Allied societies in a celebration of unity and resilience in these challenging times.

Date: This evening at 7 o'clock post meridiem

Dress Code: Formal (Black Tie)

Location: Wellington House, Kent

We anticipate the honor of your presence and look forward to an evening of meaningful exchanges and spirited fellowship.

Kindly present this invitation at the entrance.

Sincerely, The Duke of Wellington

Bucky's grin now spread wide across his face, confirms the unspoken thoughts of his table. "Looks like I've got plans this evening," he announces, his voice a mix of amusement and intrigue.

The soldiers around him, well aware of the story behind the invitation, erupt into a mix of cheers and playful jeers. Bucky's encounter with Lady Elizabeth Cavendish, a tale that had quickly become legendary among them, was evidently far from over. This invitation was not just a call to a social event; it was the next chapter in a story that promised to be as unpredictable as it was entertaining.

As the concierge departs, Bucky's mind races with possibilities. The gala at Wellington House was not just an opportunity to step into the world of British aristocracy; it was a chance to see Liz again, to engage in their game of wits and charm. With a sense of adventure stirring in his heart, he knew one thing for sure: the evening promised to be unforgettable.

House Wellington, Kent, 1943

As Bucky steps into the grandeur of the Wellington estate, the opulence of the gala immediately envelops him. The air is thick with the scent of expensive perfumes mingling with the faint aroma of quality tobacco. The chatter of the high society fills the room, a mixture of refined British accents and the occasional foreign dialect. Bucky, in his crisply pressed formal uniform, stands out—not just for his attire but also for the aura of confidence he carries with him, an unmistakable mark of a man not easily intimidated.

He navigates through the crowd, champagne flute in hand, his eyes scanning the room until they find what they've been searching for: Liz. She's a vision in her gown, embodying the grace and elegance of her status, yet with a glimmer in her eye that hints at her spirited nature. As he approaches, he can't help but admire the way she holds herself, the center of attention yet seemingly uninterested in the adoration she commands.

"Seems like I can't go anywhere without you showing up to steal the spotlight," Bucky teases, offering her a playful smirk as he closes the distance between them.

Liz turns to face him fully, her expression one of amused defiance. "Oh, Major Egan, I was under the impression that an officer of your caliber would know how to read a simple dress code," she retorts, her eyes gleaming with mischief as she gives him a once-over. "But I suppose we can't all have the luxury of choice in our evening attire, can we?"

Bucky chuckles, unphased by her jab. "Well, Lady Cavendish, it seems I'm at a disadvantage here. While you dazzle the room in that stunning dress, I'm stuck in this old thing," he says, gesturing to his uniform with a mock sigh. "But let's be honest, we both know I could show up in a burlap sack, and you'd still find it hard to keep your eyes off me."

The air between them crackles with the tension of their banter, a dance they've both come to enjoy. Liz takes a slow drag from her cigarette, held elegantly in a long holder. "Confident, aren't we? Just don't let that confidence get you into trouble, Major. This isn't the front line, and the battles here are fought differently," she says, blowing out a stream of smoke, her gaze locked with his.

"Then consider me armed and dangerous," Bucky replies with a grin, his eyes never leaving hers. "But I'll admit, this is one battlefield I'm looking forward to navigating, especially if it means crossing swords with you, Lady Cavendish."

Their exchange, filled with the playful yet pointed jabs of two individuals equally matched in intellect and charm, sets the tone for the evening. Around them, the gala continues in its whirl of music, laughter, and conversation, but for Bucky and Liz, the rest of the world fades into the background. They are each other's focal point, engaged in a game where the stakes are undefined but unmistakably high, each moment building on the tension and attraction that simmers just below the surface.

As Bucky and Liz continue their verbal dance, the arrival of a British Captain momentarily shifts the atmosphere. The Captain's demeanor is one of polite curiosity mixed with the protective scrutiny of a brother. When he inquires about Bucky, there's a brief tension, a moment where the social games of the evening meet the reality of wartime alliances and personal connections.

Bucky, with the straightforwardness that military life has ingrained in him, extends a hand. "Major John Egan, US Air Force," he introduces himself with a respectful nod, recognizing the familial resemblance in the Captain's features.

Edward's expression warms slightly at the mention of Bucky's service. "Ah, a fellow pilot then. And where might you be stationed, Major Egan?" he asks, a hint of camaraderie entering his voice upon learning of their shared skies.

"With the 100th Bomber Group," Bucky responds, his answer earning a nod of respect from Edward. The reputation of Bucky's outfit precedes him, known even among the British ranks for their bravery and contributions to the war effort.

The conversation takes a turn when Edward's attention shifts towards his sister, curiosity piqued. "And how did you two come to meet?" he inquires, his gaze bouncing between Liz and Bucky, searching for a glimpse into his sister's enigmatic social life.

Bucky opens his mouth to answer, perhaps a little too eagerly, ready to dive into the tale of their first encounter. However, Liz, ever the master of her own narrative, interjects with a grace that belies the quick thinking behind her words. "We met at a charity event just last week," she states, her voice carrying a tone of casual innocence. "Major Egan was kind enough to share some fascinating insights into his experiences in the war so far. It's not every day we have the honor of hearing such stories firsthand."

Edward's expression softens, a mix of brotherly concern and pride evident in his gaze as he looks at Liz. It's clear he's unaware of the full extent of his sister's adventurous spirit and her propensity for finding herself in the company of intriguing characters. "Well, I'm glad to hear our allies are not just brave but also charitable. It's important, especially in times like these, to remember what we're fighting for," he comments, directing a respectful nod towards Bucky.

The moment passes, and Edward excuses himself to greet other guests, leaving Bucky and Liz alone once again. Bucky raises an eyebrow at Liz, impressed by her quick thinking and ability to weave a story that protects her reputation while not entirely dismissing their actual encounter. "A charity event, huh? You're quite the storyteller, Lady Cavendish," he teases, the corners of his mouth turning up in an amused smile.

Liz, taking a delicate sip of her champagne, meets his gaze with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "One must always be prepared to tell the story that needs to be heard, Major Egan. Besides, I couldn't possibly let you ruin all my fun with the truth, now could I?" she replies, her tone playful yet laced with the underlying thrill of their shared secret.

Their exchange, now even more charged with the thrill of their clandestine understanding, continues to weave a complex tapestry of attraction and intrigue, each moment adding to the layers of their unfolding story.

Next Part

[thesupreme316]

hiiiiii I hope you have a amazing day,

I was wondering how the Aew boys react if someone try to use you against them like during the matches with them or in backstage with them busy with a other match ( like the attacker interrupt the match to show you being attacked) , I hope this makes sense 😭

i gotchuuuuu sweetheartttt

AEW Stars React To: You Being Attacked by Their Opponents

Pairings: Kenny Omega X Reader, Ricky Starks X Reader, Hook X Reader, Darius Martin X Reader, Nick Wayne X Reader, Daniel Garcia X Reader, Eddie Kingston X Reader

Word Count: 1.2K

Supreme Speaks: Thanks to anon for this request (YALL KEEP EM COMING), this was really fun and a little bit different than how I typically post these. please know that you are loved and appreciated

Warnings: ANGST and fluff but ANGST, GIFS are NOT mine, not proofread

Taglist: @hooks-martin @hookerforhook @wwenhlimagines @eddie-kingstons-wifey @triscillal @cassie0sstuff @sheinthatfandom

**Every person has their own backstory (in a wrestling world where I am a fantastic booker/producer) and the person who attacked them are in ()**

Eddie Kingston (BCC)

This happened during Eddie’s match against Christian Cage

Eddie didn’t want you out there in fear that Christian might rizz you up (or even Luchasurus no judgment)

So as he’s about to finish the match; the titantron shows up with you on the floor as Wheeler Yuta and Claudio tower over you

Eddie goes berserk; he no longer cares about the match; fuck the match

He leaves the match to rush to your aid with a kendo stick; whacking and cursing anyone who dares get in the way

He gets to you and hits Claudio and Wheeler as they run away; he holds you with so much care and curses himself out too

“Fuck Claudio and his Yorkie bitch! Fuck, I should have kept an eye on you doll. I’m sorry, it’s my fault”

Legit feels bad about the situation (it almost reduces him to tears) as you are put in an ambulance

Looks at Mox and says “You betta pray that she’s okay or Renee won’t be able to recognize her husband”

Darius Martin (Kingdom)

Okay hear me out; the Kingdom attacks you and then throws you on stage during Darius’ match to distract him

He looks at Action Andretti and Matt Sydal as they tell him to check on you; Darius goes with you backstage as doctors check on you

He’s silent….which is unusual and almost unsettling for you; he’s really taking everything to heart and is angrily simmering

“I’m so sorry that they dragged you into my mess, but I promise I will fix this”

He really feels remorseful about everything and certainly disappointed with himself that he allowed this to happen

Next week; he comes out with a chair and whoops ass

But I think he would go so far to the point where Andretti and Matt have to come out and say stop

He calms down and sits with you backstage for the rest of the show (he prolly will never take his eyes off you again)

Hook (Jack Perry)

Mans is fucking up everyone in sight

Bad enough that Jack took his title and refused to give him a rematch; so Hook is wrestling a jobber

As Hook has his opponent in the Redrum; Jack pops up on the screen with Anna Jay who is just choking you out (wish it was me)

Hook keeps the submission on long enough for the bell to ring before zooming backstage; just as Anna and Jack getaway

He is livid and starts throwing people left and right until he realizes that you are still on the ground

I think he feels exposed at the fact you were attacked cause he really does care about you

He helps you up and is visibly upset; vows to get revenge but then has a better idea

Two weeks later; he returns with you in tow and you two start WHOOPING THOSE TRICKS (to the point where the FTW championship is on the line in a tag team match; ex Edge and Kelly Kelly vs Dolph Ziggler and Laycool)

Nick Wayne (Swerve)

THIS SWEET BABY

He honestly doesn’t know what to think (and what he did to deserve Swerve hating him so much)

I feel like as soon as he sees your unconscious self on the screen, he would immediately dash backstage (like Eddie)

He would run up to your body “Y/N! Are you okay?” Before getting attacked by Swerve and AR Fox; who would then be run off by Best Friends

As he falls to the ground and when he wakes up, Nick would think that he’s a failure (DESPITE NOTHING IS HIS FAULT)

It would really take you constantly reassuring him that he was fine and nothing is his fault

“Yeah sure, but if I can’t protect you from attacks; then what kind of a man and wrestler am I?”

Like Darius, Nick would never allow you to leave his sight

Not until he ended this feud with Swerve

Kenny Omega (Will Ospreay)

Kenny would be that person who would just fill his mind continuously

During his match against Jon Moxley (sorry), The United Empire shows up with you about to go through a table

He turns his attention as Jon rolls him up and wins; Kenny immediately runs to the back

The Bucks attack the group and you are dropped on the floor (not through the table); you have no injuries

As he approaches backstage, mans is worried and anxiety has filled his body

Subconsciously declares war with Opsreay and will allow guilt to take over his mind

“I swear to you that Ospreay, that son of a bitch, will pay for this shit. And he will literally pay for your therapy (bitch take the free therapy plz)”

So much to the point where he’s not smiling anymore and treats every match like a deathmatch

Tbh, as long as Will shows up, Kenny will attack him without fail

Ricky Starks (CM Punk/The Factory)

OKAY LISTEN TO ME I believe that CM Punk would do some fucked up shit (as a true heel)

So during after Ricky’s match on Collision (who hasn’t seen you all night), Punk would show the footage of you being attacked by The Factory

But then he would say; “but that was earlier tonight”

And then BAM Punk attacks Ricky from behind and leaves him the ring

Ricky is upset at himself for not recognizing that you were missing all night and mad that he allowed Punk to attack him and you

Immediately checks on you and apologizes profusely

“I’m so sorry; I should have noticed, I should have made sure you were beside me-” “Ricky, you have been saying I’m sorry for the past hour” “Because I am!”

Would cut a vicious promo on Punk that embarrassed and angered him at the same time

Vows to get his revenge and starts it by attacking Punk

Daniel Garcia (Chris Jericho)

OKAY WOULD LOVE TO DO A POST ON HOW I WOULD BOOK DANNY’S EXIT FROM JAS

Danny is on the verge of leaving the JAS due to differences and Chris’ power trips, and you are his escape from it all

Chris knows this and tries to use it to his advantage; he tries to talk to you about Danny and keeping him in the JAS

To which you disagree and say it’s his decision; to which he got angry….and to which he may or may not have hit you with the baseball bat (CAUSE HE’S A JACKASS)

All of this was shown during Daniel and Sammy’s tag team match; Danny immediately jumped down from the apron (essentially leaving Sammy hanging) and ran to the back

He would be so angry that he would quit the JAS right then and there

Time skip, you were okay; when Danny told you the news, you were happy but you wouldn’t show it to him, asking him if he was sure

“Y/N, your safety, and well-being is more important to me than Jericho’s trash ass club. And it always will be.”

The following weeks are filled with confrontations until Daniel joins the BCC (who are not complete assholes in this universe)

HES FREE

Thank you for coming to my TedTalk

[kattythingz]

She had us in just two words / “Come inside”

I was supposed to get back to Crown after my last drawing. Why did I jump from hades au to an epic the musical one instead :"D. ANYWAY ED AS CIRCE AND LING AS ODY ANYONE?

This au is another collab with the wonderful @sirchenchen, who designed Greed as Hermes! Check out her art here!! Now 🔪🔪

Au details and edling goodness under the cut, as always~

So, yes, Ling is Ody here. HOWEVER, he has no Penelope waiting for him! So, fear not, no cheating occurs here with edling! Ling's just a king desperate to get back to his people (and we know how much he loves his clan in canon).

As Circe, Ed definitely has her trauma, which—iykyk. All you need to know on that end is that Greed found Ed after the horrific aftermath and killed the culprit dead, dead, dead.

Ed and Al tried to revive Trisha blah blah canon stuff, and while Ed was banished to a deserted island, Al was damned to the underworld as the blind prophet. Although Ed can slip into the underworld from time to time to visit Al, the brothers physically cannot touch each other again; if they do—well, Ed still has the burns from a desperate hug attempt.

Greed is Ed's only company for centuries, before Rose and Noah—two captured nymphs barely escaped from humans—washed up on his shore. They have similar trauma to Ed, and so, he doesn't hesitate to take them in. When he turns men into rats, it's not only to protect himself, but Rose and Noah as well.

Ed also has his darling snakes, of course. They're especially darling when he gets to feed them the men-turned-rats.

The Circe Saga kinda happens same as Epic canon, buuut when Ling turns down Ed—it's because he's pieced together Ed's trauma. His reason for doing what he does. Ed had let Lan Fan go, after all, even though she was part of the scouting group. Turning men to rats and leaving the woman to escape... Yeah, that speaks volumes. Enough that Ling knows to be gentle, and yet firm, when he turns down Ed's advances.

The kindness startles Ed. Against his better judgment, he chooses to patron Ling's journey home. Not because he already trusts Ling, but to test him; keep an eye on him, and truly judge if he's as good a man as Ed hopes he is.

(He is. He is, and Ed mourns when Ling disappears for seven years on Calypso's island.)

(He saves Ling's remaining men from the aftermath of Zeus's wrath as best he can to honor the last of Ling's memory. Their sacrifice had been unwilling on Ling's part. He'd been desperate to take the blame unto himself.)

(Zeus had refused.)

(Well, Ed refused Zeus's refusal.)

Ed can't even pretend the news of Ling's safe arrival to Xing doesn't please him. He's happy for the idiot, damn it.

It's quite the fortunate timing that, shortly after Ling's return home, he finally feels safe enough to ask to court Ed long-distance.

It's quite fortunate that Ed agrees.

They go back and forth with letters, with Greed serving as their middle man, teasing them both plenty along the way.

Ling eventually dares to ask for Ed's hand fully, and—well, Ed doesn't say no.

"You realize I was banished to my island? As in, I can't leave, even if I wanted to?"

Ling has the perfect, audacious response to that.

"Gods often send champions to do their bidding, no? Send me as you please, and I will defy the gods yet."

The balls on this mortal. Ed is astounded.

He's astounded. And he's endeared.

He pretends to scold Ling over his audacity, conveniently listing a series of instructions as to what such a ridiculous hypothetical quest would entail. And, to close the letter, he writes:

"Defy that, champion."

Back in Xing, Ling grins as he lifts a moly flower from the letter. It glitters naturally in the sunlight, however, when he points it at the sun, it shines.

He has a destination: Helios.

He's getting Ed's freedom. And, hopefully, a husband out of it.

(Ed grins as he receives a swift reply, along with the news from Greed that the emperor of Xing has spontaneously set sail.)

(He shouldn't hope—but he does.)

[ghost-proofbaby]

HI MY LOVE. 🩷🩷

Steddie — Electric Touch (even though we don’t know the vibe, but like…the title was giving)

electric touch (steddie's version)

warnings: use of shock therapy toys (i don't know what else to call those), use of a flogger, blindfold, and leather cuffs (reader is restrained to bed), mentions of a riding crop and nipple clamps, teasing, talk of safe words, talk of overstimulation, overall sexual themes. overuse of nicknames (it's me, what did you guys expect?), minors DNI.

wc: 1.1k+

a/n: hello my luna!!! okay. i know for a fact this song will not have this vibe. i know. but... electric touch? i'm supposed to receive a steddie request with fuckin electric touch and not take this sinful route? c'moooon. i already know this filth is getting me blacklisted by t*ylor n*tion lmao.

“What’s… that?” you question with a hesitant glance between the two boys, watching their smirks widen as Steve ruffles through a bag. 

“Oh,” Eddie answers for the both of them, “Don’t worry, sweetheart. We just thought we’d try something new tonight.” 

You weren’t in the position to argue with them. They’d already arranged you at their mercy – each wrist and each ankle locked to the four posts of the bed, spreading you wide for them to do as they please. 

“Something new?” you squeak, trying to turn your head to get a better look of whatever toys Steve was retrieving. Eddie is quick to step directly into your line of sight for the other boy though, crouching down so that all you could see is him and his smug face, “What are you idiots about to-”

“Now, now,” Eddie tsks, shaking his head. He’d put his hair up in a bun, and the moment you’d watched him pull back those messy curls, you’d known he meant business tonight, “Is that how you’re supposed to be speaking to us right now, baby doll? C’mon. Play nice.” 

You purse your lips, daring him with a solid stare before you obey, “Can I please know what new toys you two bought?” 

He reaches out a palm, and against your better judgment, you lean into it, “There’s those stellar manners. I’m so proud of you.” 

“Quick playing with her, Munson,” Steve calls as he finally tosses the empty bag to the side. 

“Oh, but it’s so fun,” he murmurs, “Just playing with our little toy before we get to absolutely devour her.” 

“That’s not very polite,” you choke out, wrists pulling on their binds automatically with the need to just reach out and touch your boys. Whether it be your hands messing up their hair, palms against their stubble as you pulled them in for a searing kiss, running your fingertips over their bare torsos – you just needed to feel them. 

Eddie shrugs playfully, “I never said I play well with others.” 

He stands suddenly, and the distance only makes your chest ache worse. They’d had their fill of teasing, you had thought, leading up to this moment. Mouths all over you, a petal pathway of bruises leading from the back of your knees and over the dips of your hips, all the way up to the jugular of your throat. You couldn’t see, but you knew Eddie had left teeth imprints somewhere along the way, on your shoulder if you were remembering correctly, from all the times he’d bitten into your flesh to hear you cry out his name. 

And Steve had been no better. In fact, he’d been worse. Fingers had danced along the inside of your thighs in subtle circles, never reaching where you needed him most. He’d been the one to secure your wrists, and when you’d winced and started to complain about the tightness, he’d only grinned devilishly as he tightened the leather strap further. Went so far as to press chaste kisses to your inner wrist pulse points, reveling in the way your heart was already racing for them. 

Steve subtly passes something to Eddie, keeping whatever fabric was in his fist out of sight until it was in Eddie’s grasp, before he leveled you, “You remember your safe words, sweetness?” 

“Bandana,” you blandly reply, purposefully saying the wrong word out of spite. 

It makes Steve nearly sneer. Eddie is unphased, though, approaching you with a clenched fist behind his back before he leans down to bring his face closer to yours.

“Not even close,” he breathes out, lips close enough to brush over your cheek, “Try again and be good for Stevie.” 

You try to fight the shudder that runs down your spine as you tilt your head, looking Steve specifically in the eyes as your bratty act begins to falter, “Green, yellow, red. Now, please, for the love of God-“

“Don’t think he’s the one you’ll be worshiping tonight,” Eddie butts in, not deterring you as he had hoped as you continue to direct your words at Steve.

“-Touch me.” 

Eddie brings his fist between you two and let’s it slowly unfurl, finally letting you see the silky black fabric he had been holding onto. 

A blindfold.

“As you wish,” Steve says, and you get one quick glimpse of the toy in his hand — a flogger, “Put it on her, Munson. It’s time to play.” 

Your breathing only quickens as your vision is taken from you, feeling Eddie’s rough fingertips linger against your cheeks before his touch has vanished completely.

You hear a buzz in the distance, before Steve steps closer. His expensive cologne is dizzying, even from a distance. Something sweet, something fresh, something deceiving. 

He’s going to fucking ruin you.

“Color?” he asks of you, and you can feel one of his fingertips reach out to touch you, staring at your navel before it’s featherlight touches trail up between your breasts.

“Green,” you sight out, voice already quivering. 

“Good. Now, remember those toys you were eyeing the last time we took you to the shop?” 

Oh. Fuck. “I remember.” 

A new line of toys — all based on electric currents. Meant to shock the recipient. Whips, floggers, nipple clamps, riding crops. All charged to inflict pain amongst the pleasure.

“Good girl,” Steve continues to taunts. The buzzing grows louder now, right along with the thrumming in your chest, “Remember — yellow for slow down, red for stop. Understood?”

A hard swallow. “Understood.” 

“Excellent,” his touch retreats just as he reaches the hollow of your neck, pausing to press in to accentuate his praise before he’s back to keeping his hands to himself, “Now, I think I’d like to play a game, honey. I want to see just how many times me and Munson can make you cum before we even lay a hand on you. Sounds absolutely electrifying, right?” 

You only hum in response. And you aren’t prepared when suddenly, several leather straps smack against your thigh, the normal sharp pain of it overcome with a shock that has your entire body jumping and your already hot cunt clenching around air.

“Use your words,” Steve’s low voice commands.

He doesn’t have to ask you twice.

“Y-Yes sir! Yes, please, fuck, I-“ you can’t get out a proper sentence, skin still tingling where he’d whipped you. 

“Look at you,” Steve chuckles lowly. This time, the leather drags softly over your torso, still shocking you along its path, leaving a molten want and need rolling in your lower abdomen, “Haven’t even started yet, and you can’t even speak. We’re going to have so much fun, honey.”

Eddie’s voice calls out from where in the room, “Who’s playing with her now, Harrington?” 

“My bad,” he doesn’t even apologize — he’s not the slightest bit sorry, “What do you say, Munson? You up for the challenge?”

Your legs are already shaking. Thighs quivering as they stay spread wide, the cool air of the room against your exposed heat sending shockwaves up your spine. Your mind spins, and you question for a moment how you’ll survive this night.

“I say it’s time to play, big boy.”

[niallerspayno]

Between the Lines - Chapter Nine

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

…

The click of your door handle makes you glance up from your laptop just in time to see Louis stroll in, his grin so wide and mischievous that you know immediately he’s up to something.

“Don’t you knock?” you ask, raising an eyebrow as you lean back against the couch.

He ignores your question, plopping down beside you. “Still working? You’re killing me, love. Come on, live a little.”

You roll your eyes. “Some of us have deadlines, Louis.”

He sighs dramatically. “Deadlines. Responsibilities. Boring, boring words. You’ve been so serious lately. It’s not you.”

“It is me,” you retort, closing your laptop because you already know where this conversation is going.

“Nope. Not the real you,” Louis says, his grin widening. “The real you just needs a little push. A little spark of fun.”

“Fun that’ll get me in trouble, you mean?” you ask, folding your arms.

He shrugs, unbothered. “The best kind of fun.”

Despite your better judgment, you feel your resolve cracking. Louis always has that effect on you. You’d sworn to keep him at arm’s length after everything lately, but he’s like gravity—you can’t resist him.

“Alright,” you say finally, sighing as you stand. “But if this ends with me getting grounded by Paul again, I’m blaming you.”

“You always do,” he quips, springing to his feet and grabbing your hand. “Come on, we’ve got a mission to complete.”

…

The plan is pure Louis: simple, chaotic, and doomed to get caught. Liam’s duffel bag, left unattended in the hallway, is the perfect target for a whipped cream ambush.

“You’re ridiculous,” you whisper, holding the bag open while Louis shakes the can with glee.

“Ridiculously brilliant,” he corrects, spraying foam into the bag with an artist’s precision. “And don’t act like you’re not loving this.”

You’re about to protest, but the truth is, you are enjoying it. The adrenaline, the silliness—it’s a welcome distraction from the heaviness of the last few weeks.

But as you’re sneaking back toward the elevator, disaster strikes. Your foot catches on the edge of a suitcase, and before you can catch yourself, you’re falling backward. The impact sends pain shooting through your ankle, and a sharp cry escapes your lips.

Louis is at your side in an instant, his face pale with worry. “Shit. Are you alright?”

“I don’t know,” you admit through gritted teeth, clutching your ankle.

“Stay here. I’ll get someone—”

Before he can finish, the elevator dings, and Niall steps out, his expression instantly darkening when he sees you on the floor.

“What the hell is going on?” Niall demands, his voice sharp enough to cut glass as he strides over.

“She tripped,” Louis says quickly, his hands raised in defense.

“Doing what?” Niall growls, his gaze flicking between you and Louis.

“It was just a prank—”

“A prank?” Niall’s voice rises, his accent thick with anger. “Are you serious, Louis? She’s not your bloody sidekick!”

“Alright, calm down—”

“Don’t you dare tell me to calm down,” Niall snaps, kneeling beside you. His hands hover over your ankle, careful but shaking slightly. “Are you hurt? Can you move it?”

“I think it’s just a twist,” you say softly, trying to diffuse the tension.

“See? She’s fine,” Louis says, though his voice lacks its usual confidence.

“Fine?” Niall looks up, his blue eyes blazing. “She could’ve been seriously hurt! This isn’t a game, Louis. You can’t keep dragging her into your crap!”

“She wanted to do it!” Louis fires back, his temper flaring now. “She’s not a kid, Niall. She makes her own choices.”

“Not when you’re pressuring her!” Niall snaps.

“Enough!” you shout, the sound cutting through their argument. Both of them freeze, their attention snapping to you. “I’m fine. And I agreed to the prank. It wasn’t Louis’ fault.”

“That doesn’t mean he’s not reckless,” Niall mutters, his voice quieter but no less angry.

“And it doesn’t mean you get to talk to him like that,” you retort, your tone sharp enough to surprise both of them. “He didn’t force me to do anything.”

Louis gives you a small, grateful look, but the tension between the three of you is thick as you try to stand.

“Alright,” Niall says, his voice tight. “Let’s get you back to your room. And then we’re done with this pranking nonsense, yeah?”

You don’t answer, leaning on him as you limp away, feeling Louis’ gaze heavy on your back.

Niall helps you to your room, his arm gently but firmly supporting your shoulders. Despite your protests, he insists on guiding you the whole way, his brows furrowed in frustration. You know he’s angry—not just at Louis, but because he hates seeing you hurt.

“Just sit down,” he orders softly as he helps you to the edge of the bed. His voice is gentler now, though you can hear the underlying tension.

You wince slightly as you sit, and Niall’s gaze drops to your ankle, now swollen from the fall. “Let me grab the ice pack,” he mutters, rushing off to the bathroom without another word.

As you wait, the silence between you two is palpable. You feel his worry in the way his movements are rushed, almost panicked. It’s sweet in a way, but it also reminds you how overprotective he can be. The last thing you want is for him to feel like you need to be coddled. You’re not a child anymore.

When he returns, he sits next to you on the bed, carefully placing the ice pack on your ankle. His touch is gentle, but there’s an edge to it now, as if he’s holding back something. His lips press together, a clear sign that his mind is still racing with thoughts.

“You know, I can’t believe Louis sometimes,” Niall begins, his voice tinged with frustration. “He never thinks before he acts. What if you’d really hurt yourself, huh? What would he have done then?”

You flinch, suddenly irritated by his tone. You know he’s just trying to protect you, but he’s missing something.

“I didn’t really hurt myself, Niall. It was a sprain. I’m fine,” you snap, your voice sharper than you intended.

He looks at you, eyes widening. “But that’s not the point! He put you in that position—he pushed you into that prank, and now you’re hurt because of it!”

“I didn’t have to do it,” you fire back, frustration rising in your chest. “I’m not some helpless child, Niall. I agreed to it. It was an accident. And honestly, I’m fine.”

He stares at you, incredulous. “You’re defending him? After everything? He doesn’t care about you like I do. He never will.”

You bite your lip, trying to hold back the rush of emotions threatening to spill over. You care for Niall—so much—but you also have to be true to yourself. You can’t keep relying on him to fix everything.

“I’m not defending him, Niall,” you say, your voice trembling slightly. “I’m just… I’m just saying it was an accident. It wasn’t his fault.”

Niall’s jaw clenches, and you can see the hurt flicker in his eyes. It stings you more than you want to admit. You hate seeing him upset, especially when it’s because of something you said.

“But I thought—” He stops himself, taking a deep breath. “I thought we were getting back to normal. That we were on the same page again. And now you’re defending him like—like you don’t need me anymore.”

The words hit you like a punch to the stomach. You weren’t trying to make him feel that way. The last thing you want is to make Niall feel unimportant to you.

“I do need you, Niall. You’re my best friend,” you whisper, reaching for his hand, but he pulls back, shaking his head.

“No,” he says softly, standing up. “I’m not just your best friend anymore. Not like this. Not after everything that’s happened. And maybe I shouldn’t have been waiting for you to see that.”

The pain in his voice is clear, and it breaks something inside of you. You want to explain, to make him understand that you never meant to hurt him, but you can’t find the right words.

“You’re right,” he says, his voice distant. “You’re not a child, and you don’t need me to protect you. I can’t keep doing this.”

His words hit you like a wave, sweeping over you with an intensity you weren’t prepared for. You watch him as he grabs his jacket and heads for the door, your heart sinking with every step.

“Niall, wait—”

But he’s already gone. The door clicks shut behind him, leaving you in a heavy silence that feels impossible to fill. You sit on the bed, your heart racing, and you realize just how much you’ve hurt him. The last thing you ever wanted was to push him away.

But now, it feels like you’ve done just that. And the emptiness that fills the space between you is almost unbearable.

…

You’re sitting on the edge of your bed, still feeling the weight of Niall’s words, when you hear a soft knock on your door. You hesitate for a moment before the door creaks open, and Liam, Harry, and Zayn poke their heads in. They’re all wearing concerned expressions, clearly aware of both your injury and the tension surrounding it.

Liam’s the first to speak, his voice light, though you can sense the underlying worry. “How’s the ankle? You okay?” He takes a few cautious steps into the room, his eyes flicking to your leg where the ice pack rests, still pressing down on the swollen joint.

“I’m fine,” you assure him, though the words feel hollow in your chest. The pain in your ankle is nothing compared to the ache in your heart after the argument with Niall. “Just a little sore.”

Harry leans against the doorframe with a raised eyebrow. “We heard about the whole situation with Niall and Louis, too. You doing okay with all of that?” He says it with a knowing glance between him and Zayn.

You sigh deeply, letting your shoulders slump slightly. “It’s been a mess,” you admit, voice quieter than you’d like it to be. “Niall’s mad at Louis, and now he’s mad at me too.”

Liam makes his way over to sit beside you on the bed, giving you a moment to collect your thoughts. “I heard the prank was… well, let’s just say it affected my luggage in ways I wasn’t planning on,” he says with a half-smile, trying to lighten the mood. “But it’s no big deal. You’re still you, and I know you didn’t mean for anyone to get hurt.”

You chuckle softly, appreciating his attempt at humor, but the smile fades quickly. “I know I didn’t mean to get hurt, but… Niall’s really upset. I think he feels like I’m not thinking about him anymore, and I just… I don’t know how to fix that.”

Zayn sits down in the chair near the window, crossing his arms with a concerned expression. “You’re not ruining anything, you know,” he says, his voice soft but firm. “Niall’s your best friend. He’ll get over this. He’s just got his own stuff going on. But if you don’t talk to him, it’s not going to get better.”

Liam nods in agreement, though his eyes are still focused on you. “Yeah, mate. You’re a team. You’ve been through worse than this.” He leans forward, looking at you more seriously. “But that’s not all of it, is it? What about Louis?”

You swallow hard, the name making your heart twist. “I’m not mad at him for the prank. I mean, yeah, it was reckless, but it was an accident. I… I don’t blame him for what happened.” You glance down at your hands, picking at your fingernails in an attempt to steady your racing thoughts. “It’s just everything else that’s going on… with them.”

Harry steps into the room fully now, moving to sit beside Zayn. “What exactly is going on with them? You’ve been so caught up in all this drama, it’s been hard to keep track.”

You take a deep breath, turning your gaze to Liam first, then Harry, and finally Zayn. “I don’t know where I stand with either of them, really. Niall’s my best friend, and I know I’ve hurt him, but… then there’s Louis. I don’t know how to feel about him anymore. He’s always been the reckless one, and part of me appreciates that. It’s exciting. But… I also care about Niall. I don’t want to hurt him, but I don’t want to feel guilty for spending time with Louis either.”

Liam runs a hand through his hair, clearly struggling to understand your position. “Look, I can’t tell you what to do. But you can’t keep avoiding the problem. You need to figure out what you want before you hurt them both more.”

You nod, feeling overwhelmed. “I’m trying. I just wish it was simpler. I just wish they could understand…” Your voice trails off, too tired to finish the thought.

Zayn stands up from the chair and walks over to where you’re sitting. His hand rests on your shoulder in a comforting gesture, his voice soft but filled with sincerity. “Look, love… they’ll understand. But you can’t keep bottling this all up. You need to talk to them. Both of them.”

Harry’s smile is gentle, and he nods in agreement. “We’re here for you, no matter what happens with them. But don’t let this mess sit for too long. You deserve to feel heard, and so do they.”

Liam glances at the clock on the wall and stands up, giving you one last look before heading for the door. “I’ll leave you to it. But if you ever need to talk, we’re all here. No matter what you decide.”

You manage a small smile, feeling the weight on your shoulders ease just a little bit. “Thanks. All of you. I just… I need some time to think it through.”

As the door closes behind them, you’re left alone with your thoughts again, but this time, there’s a sense of clarity. You know you can’t keep avoiding the issue, not with Niall, and certainly not with Louis. But how do you navigate this tangled mess?

…

It’s past midnight when the knock on the door wakes you from a light doze. Your ankle throbs as you shift under the covers, and you wince at the pain, barely able to move it without discomfort. You weren’t expecting anyone, not at this hour, and for a moment, you wonder if your mind’s playing tricks on you.

But then it comes again—the soft, almost hesitant knock.

You push yourself upright carefully, your injured foot staying tucked beneath the blankets, the pressure of standing too much for your sprained ankle. Instead, you call out, your voice faint with a mix of confusion and exhaustion.

“Come in.”

The door creaks open, and you don’t even need to see who it is. You recognize the familiar shuffle of Louis’s footsteps before he speaks.

“I… I’m sorry to wake you.” His voice is low, and there’s a note of guilt that laces through his words. He stands in the doorway, his figure cast in shadow, but you can feel the heaviness in the air as he steps into the room. “I just… I needed to check on you.”

You shift uncomfortably in the bed, not sure how to respond. But you can see it in his face—Louis is clearly on edge. He’s here, apologizing for something he feels responsible for, even though you’ve told him it wasn’t his fault. You breathe in slowly, trying to shake the weight of everything that happened that day—the prank, the fight with Niall, the pain in your ankle—but all of it feels too close, too fresh.

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted to talk,” Louis continues, his voice trailing off as he watches you. “But… I couldn’t just leave things like they are.”

Your heart aches at the sincerity in his words, at the vulnerability you don’t often see from him. You offer him a small smile, though it’s bittersweet. You still don’t know what to say, or what you’re feeling. The mess of it all feels too complicated. Too much.

“It’s okay, Louis,” you murmur, your voice soft, yet a little raw from everything that’s happened. “You don’t need to apologize. It wasn’t your fault. It was an accident.”

He steps closer, lowering his gaze. “Still, I should’ve known better. I never meant for you to get hurt. I just… I wanted to make you laugh, not… hurt you.”

You try to reassure him, even as a small wave of frustration stirs within you. “Louis, it’s fine. Really. I’m okay. Just… maybe not for a while. I don’t want to talk about that right now.” You rub your temples lightly, a subtle attempt to ease the tension that’s building behind your eyes.

Louis hesitates, clearly weighing whether to push, but he seems to sense that you need something else. He bites his lip, then nods quietly, his gaze flicking down to your swollen ankle.

“I just—” he pauses. “I know you’re upset. And I get it. But… if you want, I can stay. I won’t talk about anything serious. I just don’t want you to be alone right now.”

You let out a breath, the weight of the day finally catching up with you. There’s a lump in your throat, and suddenly, you feel too small under the burden of your thoughts. You don’t want to be alone. Not now. Not tonight.

You nod, the quiet sincerity of his offer making your chest tighten.

“Okay,” you say softly, your voice almost a whisper. “I’d like that.”

Without another word, Louis moves to sit on the edge of the bed. He doesn’t rush. There’s something gentle in the way he settles himself next to you, pulling the covers down slightly as he lies beside you, keeping a careful distance but radiating warmth. He turns onto his side so that he’s facing you, his expression soft, not like the teasing or mischievous Louis you’re so used to seeing, but someone more tender, more… protective.

The shift catches you off guard, and for a second, you just look at him—at how different he seems. He doesn’t push. He just… is here, quietly present, offering you the comfort you didn’t realize you needed until now.

“Is this okay?” Louis asks, his voice quiet, almost cautious, as he reaches for the blanket and gently tugs it over both of you. His fingers brush against yours, and it’s soft—just a simple touch, but it feels so grounding in the chaos that’s been your day.

“Yeah,” you breathe, the exhaustion making your eyelids heavy. “I… I just need some quiet. I need… some time.”

Louis doesn’t reply at first. Instead, he scoots a little closer, careful of your injury, until his arm finds its way around you, pulling you gently against him. You stiffen slightly at the contact, but then you let go of the tension, letting yourself relax, feeling the warmth of his chest against your back. The slow, steady rhythm of his breathing fills the space between you, and it’s the comfort you didn’t know you were craving.

His hand rests lightly on your waist, fingers brushing the skin of your shirt as he shifts again, carefully adjusting until you’re both nestled under the blanket, the world outside muted and distant.

“You can sleep, you know,” he murmurs softly, his voice warm against your ear. “I’ve got you. You’re safe.”

You close your eyes, sinking deeper into the mattress, the gentle press of his body a soothing weight. It’s not the same as being alone, but it’s exactly what you need right now—someone who understands you without asking too much.

The quiet stretches on, and you feel the tension of the day start to dissipate. Slowly, your breathing evens out, and your mind quiets for the first time all day.

Louis doesn’t say anything more. He simply holds you as you fall asleep, his hand resting softly on your side, a steady, grounding presence that pulls you into the softness of slumber. In his arms, you feel like maybe, just maybe, things will be okay.

You don’t know what the future holds, but for now, you can rest.

…

The morning light filters softly through the curtains as you slowly wake, warmth enveloping you. You’re still in Louis’ arms, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm beneath you. For a moment, you let yourself just bask in the peace, the steady sound of his breathing grounding you, calming the turbulence that’s been swirling inside you for days.

You don’t want to move, not yet, but eventually, you have to. Carefully, you slip out of bed, wincing slightly as you put weight on your sprained ankle. The movement doesn’t go unnoticed, though Louis is still asleep, a faint smile lingering on his lips.

You’re unsure how much time has passed, but it feels like you’ve been in this bubble, suspended in a moment of calm. You take a breath, reminding yourself that you need to face everything today. Slowly, you ease yourself to the bathroom, preparing for another day of dealing with the band and the aftermath of yesterday’s drama. When you return, Louis is sitting up, rubbing his eyes, still looking a little sleepy but instantly alert when he sees you.

“Morning,” he says, his voice low and warm, laced with the softness you haven’t heard from him in a while.

You nod, offering a small smile. “Morning.”

He stretches, a teasing grin forming on his lips. “You know, I could just carry you to breakfast?” he offers, his voice full of mischief.

You raise an eyebrow, eyeing him suspiciously. “What’s the catch?”

“No catch,” he says, standing up and walking toward you, his smile never faltering. “Just want to be a good friend.”

You can’t help but laugh, the absurdity of it all lightening the mood. “Fine,” you say, rolling your eyes. “But I’m not letting you get away with it.”

Before you can protest further, Louis scoops you up effortlessly, his arms strong and secure around you as he hoists you onto his back. You can’t suppress the laugh that bubbles up, even as you wrap your arms around his neck to steady yourself.

“I swear you never stop with the antics,” you tease, your voice full of warmth.

“You love it,” he retorts, his tone playful as he starts walking toward the door.

The trip to the dining area is filled with laughter, the sound of it filling the hallway as you lean into him. Despite everything that’s happened, despite the unresolved tension between you and the others, right now, it’s just the two of you, and that feels good.

When you enter the dining area, the rest of the band is already sitting at the table, chatting casually. The light atmosphere doesn’t last long, though. You catch Niall’s eye and immediately sense the shift in his mood. He’s quiet, his jaw tight as he stirs his coffee.

Louis sets you down gently, and as he steps back, he slings an arm around your shoulders, giving you a small, reassuring squeeze. You look around the table, trying to gauge everyone’s mood, but it’s Niall’s silence that feels the heaviest.

Liam, always the peacemaker, is the first to speak, keeping things light. “Morning, you two,” he says, his voice bright. “Louis, I hope you’re not planning on carrying her everywhere.”

Louis laughs, clearly unfazed. “If it helps her rest her ankle, I’ll do it all tour long.”

The group chuckles, but you notice Niall’s eyes flicker between you and Louis. He’s still quiet, and his lack of words is loud in its own way. He hasn’t spoken to you since the argument yesterday, and his gaze, though unreadable, feels like a storm brewing.

Zayn chimes in with a joke, trying to lighten the mood. “It’s not the first time we’ve seen Louis acting like this. He’s been known to be a bit of a drama queen.”

You laugh along with the others, but the moment you glance at Niall again, his expression doesn’t change. His silence speaks volumes.

You can feel the weight of his unspoken words, the tension between the two of you thick in the air. It’s hard, navigating the fallout from yesterday, and it feels like you’re walking a tightrope. Between Niall’s hurt and Louis’ proximity, it’s all becoming more difficult to balance.

Niall’s voice finally breaks the silence, but his words aren’t directed at anyone in particular. “I’m just… I’m not hungry,” he says, pushing his plate aside.

You feel a pang in your chest at his words. He’s pulling away, retreating again, and you can’t help but wonder if this is the beginning of something even harder to fix.

“I’ll grab something later,” Niall adds, standing abruptly and leaving the table without another glance at you.

Louis raises an eyebrow, clearly sensing the shift in the air. “What’s up with him?” he asks, though his voice doesn’t hold judgment, just curiosity.

“I think you know,” you say softly, your heart aching. You want to say more, to explain everything, but the words aren’t there yet. Not today.

Liam gives you a sympathetic look before turning to the others. “Let’s just eat, yeah? Niall’s got a lot on his mind. We all do.”

You nod, but the weight of it lingers, a cloud hanging over the table. And you’re left wondering, once again, just where you stand with everyone.

…

Next chapter

[spoiledleaff]

🎶LEAFYYYYY🎶 YOU CANT JUST LEAVE THAT IN THE TAGS WTH I DEMAND EMOTIONAL COMPENSATION

God I love your brain

>:Dc ... i will gladly repent for my mistakes :> anyways!! have some hurt/comfort raindrop, hehe! <;3

sfw ✿ cw ; angst + hurt/comfort. ✿ he/him dew + they/them rain ✿ wc ; 564.

"Stop." Rain sighs. Their voice isn't raised in anger, or even clouded with judgment or disappointment; it's just a voice.

But it's Rain voice.

(Rain knows.)

"Oh, shut. The fuck. Up!" Dewdrop hisses. He fucking hisses through bared fangs so hard, he spits at the water's sin. It sizzles against their bare collar. "Don't fucking patronize me, Rainy."

Rain is still from where they stand at Dewdrop's door. There's no lights on in Dewdrop's dorm or in the hallway, their slight frame is illuminated only by the soft glow of moonlight drifting through Dewdrop's windows. The fire's sin is seething: fangs bared, his tail is whacking violently against the frame of his bed, there's actual smoke pouring from his mouth.

(There's tears gathering in the corners of Dewdrop's eyes, but Rain doesn't dare mention those.)

"You're in pain-"

"Just fuck right off to heaven, Rain!" Dewdrop roars, the scarred barbs that still decorate his tail rattle against his leather skin. "I'm not in pain; I'm not hurting. The moon doesn't even affect me anymore, Rain; I'm not some pitiful fucking water ghoul anymore, Rain, so don't fucking treat me like some angel!"

Rain's quiet; they're still there in the doorway, but they're quiet. Dewdrop isn't sure if he should be relieved or even angrier. They're still looking at him though.

Dewdrop doesn't like how gorgeous their eyes look in the glow of the moon. Their eyes are more green than Dewdrop's are, somehow they reflect the light better: makes their features look softer in the light.

(The moon only made Dewdrop look harsher. Smaller.)

"Dew." Even now, they're voice is soft; gentle. Dewdrop growls at the sound. "I never mentioned the moon."

Ah.

Rain knows. They always know.

Dewdrop breaks. He practically collapses into his destroyed nest, the ache in his chest having since become a burning sensation: little bugs crawling around his bones and heart, eating everything in sight like parasites. Rain is with him in an instant; their touch is cold, but it burns him anyways. Like freezer burn. It hurts. He's hurting.

"You're hurting." Rain whispers against his hairline, clammy and damp with sweat. "Breathe, my sun. I've got you, just let me take care of you. Let me care for you, my love."

Dewdrop sobs. Instinctively, he nuzzles at the edge of Rain's jaw, so soft in the moonlight. His claws scramble to fist at Rain's underclothes, scratching at the thin material they wear to bed. His tail curls around an appendage that isn't his own, and there's somehow a great comfort from that small fact.

"It hurts." Dewdrop whispers, like one of the Ministry's children finally admitting they were wrong. "I hate the moon, Rainy; I hate this-"

"I know." Rain says, quiet but firm. Their arms wrap around Dewdrop's burning frame, hauling the struggling ghoul into their lap without any visible effort. Their touch is freezing; it's painful, but it's a pain that grounds Dewdrop instead of destroys him. "I'm here."

"Please don't leave me, Rainy." Dewdrop whispers like a secret against Rain's jaw. "Even when the moon wanes, please don't go. Please don't leave me." Dewdrop's pleading is like a prayer what with the way he whispers it against the edge of Rain's jaw.

"I won't." They promise, and Dewdrop feels like he can breathe again. "Even when the sun rises, I'll be here with you always."