#my apologies for coming back once in a few months just to post a few icons

[008-edits]

"wonderhorror!? test of courage!" icons!

(credit is not needed, but appreciated)

[generalsmemories]

Admiral, the general is touch-deprived.

✧ jing yuan x gn!reader

✧ based on the ask: "Please do one if you haven’t where Jing Yuan is severely down bad for reader and makes it known to everyone and they are just done with him"

✧ content: established relationship, fluff, make-out scene, humor, mentions of other characters

✧ a/n: where did almost 100 of you come- bless this ask for making me write needy jing yuan i love you. not beta-read again anyway buckle up this is another one of unfiltered shame for my love for one mere general with a silly thunder lord that he nicknamed shin-kun in the jp dub because the official title was way too long for this old man.

this was written in a google doc on the phone since I'm on vacation so I apologize if the formatting is messier than the first post 🫡

There's tension in the air.

"... As for Stargazer Navidia, there seems to be another onslaught of mara-struck cloud knights making their way within the area in the next few days. I'll appoint Lieutenant Yanqing to lead a few troops there by the next hour, but be sure to send a messenger cycrane if the situation gets too out of hand or you need to divide the troops up to cover more ground."

You hear a loud "Yes!" as you flip over to the next page, quickly scanning through the documents contents, purposefully ignoring the tension in the air, muttering the details lowly to yourself with a furrowed eyebrow.

It's the sort of tension you wish everyone just ignored, even though it's more difficult than it sounds.

Perhaps being fed up with your avoidance of ignoring the elephant in the room, one of the captains of the Knights loudly cough into the air before meekly addressing you, "Admiral [Name]?"

"Yes?" you look up with a smile, cocking your head to the side. A small gesture to ensure the captain that they have your full attention which makes the knight before you quickly glance to the side and away from you, although that didn't help the pair of eyes boring a hole into the side of his head, "The general…" he starts, coughing once again while glancing back and forth at you and the weapons displayed at the seat of Divine Foresight, "... Would very much like your attention, it seems."

As if on cue, the arms that were wrapped around your waist squeeze a bit tighter than normal. The sudden pressure makes you let out a grunt of surprise while Qingzu lets out another exhausted sigh. Meanwhile you glance down to lock eyes with Jing Yuan, who very much is staring at you with a small pout evident on his lips, "Oh so my darling has finally acknowledged my existence?" he jokes with a grin, meanwhile you merely stare down back at him with a neutral expression before resting your left arm carrying the paperwork on his gray head. The general uses the opportunity to nuzzle his face into your waist, playfully biting into an exposed part of your skin from where his hand had wormed itself underneath your shirt, making you squirm away from him, to which he immediately grabs your back into his hold.

"If you haven't noticed dear, you're practically leeching onto me to the point I can't even stand at my usual side, that is to per say in front of the desk and not literally quite next to you and within your arms." You whisper to him gently. Flicking his forehead before whipping your head around to address the Cloud Knights before your husband can say anything in his defense.

You ignore the looks of disbelief on some of the soldiers' faces.

"I apologize for the awkwardness this position may cause, I can only hope for your understanding being that I've been away from the Luofu for a few months helping Marshal Fua with some matters at her fleet. I've only recently come back." you explain, gesturing Qingzu over to hand over the paperwork to her before waving your hand with a guilty smile, "You're all dismissed, please be safe out there."

"Lady Fu Xuan, how may I be of assis-"

"Are you two arguing or something?" Fu Xuan interrupts before you can even finish your sentence which leaves you staring wide eyed at her with your mouth agape, "Pardon? I'm not quite sure who you're referring to-"

"The general. I'm referring to general Jing Yuan, who else would I be referring to? He sits around the seat of Divine Foresight like a kicked puppy. Which makes it even harder to get any information in OR to him because he's not even mentally present! Can you fix him? Wonderful! Let's make haste to the seat."

You're not even allowed to finish your cup of tea or give an answer before the divination commissioner grabs you by the forearms and drags you out of the teahouse.

"Jing-" you haven't even taken one step into the seat of Divine Foresight before you're surrounded by the familiar scent of your husband. A gentle hand placed by your head while an arm is tightly wound around your waist. You can practically feel the smile of utter glee on Jing Yuan's lips as he buries his face into your hair.

"Darling, I thought you had the day off today?" he mutters into your hair, sounding a bit too happy to have you in his arms again to the point he's ignoring the death glares from Fu Xuan besides you, the divination commissioner just wanting to do her part of keeping the Luofu afloat.

"I was having my day off, before Lady Fu Xuan here dragged me out because someone didn't-" you struggle free to nag at him, but your husband merely smiles softly at you before lifting your chin to give you a quick kiss, "Now that you're here I feel more energized than ever, let me finish the paperwork for today and I'll join you, we can even play a round of starchess." he suggests.

You can practically sense Fu Xuan roll her eyes in disgust, able to hear her mutter about a "lovesick fool" before walking past the two of you, Jing Yuan merely grabbing your hand to lead you towards the seat.

So much for a day off.

You can't breathe.

"Jing-" another press of his lips onto yours as you find yourself pressed on the wall beside the door, "Yanqing-" you manage to breathe out when finally able to pull a tiny bit away from him. Pressing your hand over whatever surface of his face you can reach to try to shove him away, your other hand occupied with bracing itself against the wall.

Your husband ignores your literal hand on his face, somehow having more strength to still slant his lips across your own despite your efforts, the hand he has behind your head pushing you further against him while he shoves a leg between your own to keep you still, "Train-"

There's a rather loud set of knocks on your bedroom door followed by an exasperated sigh coming from behind it, which makes you freeze but Jing Yuan ignores it, sliding his tongue over your teeth while you resign yourself to slam your fist repeatedly on his back to get him to back off.

"General! I know you missed [Name] a lot during the months they were away from the Luofu, but you know that today is supposed to be a training day!" Yanqing shouts from behind the door, and you feel sorry over the realization he's aware of what's happening beyond it.

Feeling sorry enough for Yanqing whose probably already waited 15 minutes before knocking at the door, you muster whatever little strength you have left against your husband's addictive lips to grab his ponytail and yank him off and away from you.

Jing Yuan merely grunts in irritation, looking at you with a glare and swollen lips, but you ignore him. Opening the door before Jing Yuan can grab you again and giving Yanqing an apologetic look, "I tried-"

"It's better than last time, at least." He points out to which you merely sigh before opening the door wider, "I'll give you more pocket money this month, how's that for compensation?" You suggest, shoving your husband out the door before he do anything else, Yanqing smiling in triumph at your generosity.

"You're the best! Give me extra if I manage to land a few hits on the general?"

"5 more than usual and I'll give you an extra thousand." You settle, tapping Jing Yuan on the shoulder. Your husband turns around to face you with a hum, and you lean in to peck him on the cheek, gliding your lips over to his ear, "If you're a bit nicer to him today you'll also get a reward."

Needless to say, there were two very happy boys onboard the Luofu at the end of the day.

[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

Baby Blues || Young President!Coriolanus Snow x reader

Summary: motherhood has not been kind to you, neither has Coriolanus.

Warnings: r is implied to be young, toxic, mean Coryo, r experiencing post-partum depression,

Wc: 794

A/n: I’m always gravitating to write these type of coryo fics for some reason…. I hope you like them! Apologies for lack of Tom Blyth/Coryo content, I promise I have some coming!!

You sat in the sunroom, the weight of your 5 month old daughter on your hip, while Coriolanus read his newspaper, seemingly unfazed by his daughter’s cries that filled the room.

Your hands shakily pick up the delicate china tea cup, bringing it to your lips and taking few sips.

You stared at nothing in particular, feeling the weight of both youth and motherhood. You subconsciously start to bounce your leg, all while your daughter wails in your arm, begging for attention from her own mother.

Coriolanus sips at his black coffee, trying his best to drown out the cries as he tried to focus his attention back on his newspaper. Your concerned servant in the room exchanged worried glances with Coriolanus, and finally, he glances at you, frustration etched on his face.

“Y/n, tend to her,” he instructed, irritation evident in his voice. “Don’t just sit there like a mad woman, do something,” He hissed as your gaze moved to him. Your eyes seemingly empty as you stare at his icy blue ones.

At an attempt to soothe her down, you stand up to bounce her on your hip, hushing her. Your daughter’s cries only intensified, drawing Coriolanus to his feet.

The rustle of the newspaper ceased as he took his daughter into his arms. Almost magically, her cries subsided in the secure embrace of her father. A wave of inadequacy washed over you as you witnessed his effortless ability to calm her.

~

You stand infront of the large floor to ceiling window that overlooked your courtyard, gazing blankly at the last few socialites leaving the presidential mansion after a soirée that Coriolanus hosted.

Your once vibrant, youthful eyes now dull, overshadowed by the weight of motherhood. Coriolanus, sat on one of the chairs, watches you from where he was. “You’ve been standing there for about 20 minutes, sit,” He says, gesturing to the seat beside him as you turn your head, lightly biting your lips before moving.

“It’s like you were in another world tonight, what ever is the matter with you now?” Coriolanus remarks, frustration edging his tone.” You feign a smile, “I’m just tired, Coryo. That’s all,” but your eyes betray the facade, revealing a profound weariness that transcends mere fatigue.

“You always seem tired,” Coryo scoffs. Your gaze flickers towards the nanny, cradling your daughter in her arms. Your heart aches with a mixture of guilt and relief as you observe the bond forming between them.

Coriolanus’s gaze follows your eye line, “Perhaps you’ve been focusing too much on your duties and not enough on our daughter,” He suggests, unaware of the storm raging within you.

“I’m doing my best, Coryo,” you respond, voice barely audible as Coriolanus lets out a tired sigh, massaging his forehead.

The baby’s cries cut through the air, and you flinch as if struck—something Coriolanus observed. He glances at you, a mixture of annoyance and concern etched across his features.

“Can’t you tend to our daughter? You’re her mother, after all.” You nod absentmindedly, standing up and making your way toward the source of the cries.

The nanny, a woman just a couple years younger than yourself, hands over your daughter, a look of sympathy etched on her face.

You clear your throat, feeling Coriolanus’ eyes on you. You cradle her awkwardly, attempting to soothe her, but your efforts were feeble. Coriolanus observes, frustration simmering beneath the surface.

“You’re always like this. Will you always treat our child as if she’s a stranger?” He spat, and you bit your lip, glancing down at your daughter whose features closely mirrored yours, except for her eyes and blonde hair.

Your eyes well up with unshed tears, swiftly wiped away. “I just… just need time, Coriolanus. I’ll adjust,” you stammer, seeking to reassure your husband and, more importantly, convincing yourself that you will.

Nearly half a year has passed since you gave birth to her. Skillfully, you’ve evaded numerous public appearances with your daughter, fully aware of the pervasive curiosity surrounding your role as a mother.

You were aware of their judgments. The notion that you were too young to be a mother echoed in your mind, a sentiment you shared as you gazed at yourself in the mirror, your stomach swollen with the imminent arrival of a child into the world.

Coriolanus sighs, a blend of disappointment and impatience coloring his tone. “Pull yourself together, for both our sakes. The people want to see their First Lady and my heir. You can’t keep hiding away. There are already whispers going around,” he admonishes sharply, and you gulp, your baby cradled in your arms as you turn to face him.

Coriolanus couldn’t deny the noticeable change in you since giving birth. When he married you, the youthful aura enveloped you, a stark contrast to the transformation he now witnessed.

The aura had dissipated entirely. Despite your youth, you appeared to have weathered a lifetime. Fatigue etched into your eyes, weariness evident in your mental state.

“It’s wise for you to step back from the public eye for a while, away from your duties. You need to rest,” Coriolanus states firmly, his gaze fixed on the world beyond the window.

Your gaze shifts to your baby in your arms, her doe-blue eyes locking onto yours. Unaware, Coriolanus discreetly signals the nanny to take your daughter.

Caught off guard, you hesitated when she reached for your child, desiring to hold her longer. Reluctantly, you allowed her to take the little one. With a heavy heart, you observed the nanny exit the room, and Coriolanus broke the silence, reassuring you, “Don’t worry about her; go rest.” Slowly, you nodded in agreement.

[justaz]

post magic reveal arthur is like “:/ mmm i’ll open up communications with the druids but idk about repealing the ban :/“ and merlin is like “??? why??” and arthur’s like “well magic is evil, that’s all i’ve been taught and all i know. i know you’re not evil but idk about other sorcerers, i can’t just let them free.” and merlin’s like “what’ll get you to consider it” and arthur’s like “well you say that magic isn’t something you chose, it choses you. alright, but people still chose to use it.” and merlin who has never followed this train of thought before is like,,, “you wanna test it? experiment? i can stop using my magic and we’ll see what happens” and arthur who has been playing his father’s lessons on magic through his head for the past like month since he found out and has been trying to figure out a way to get merlin to stop corrupting his soul jumps on the opportunity and is like “great idea :] nothing could go wrong :] you stop corrupting yourself and i don’t have to set magic free :]”

merlin stops using his magic for everything. he makes a conscious effort to force it all down and away and the first few days pass by fine. then he starts to get a little dizzy and then he gets spacey and distracted but not rambly, just staring off into space. then he’s just like. not there anymore. druids come to camelot to speak with arthur but can’t stop staring at merlin and eventually cut the conversation off to point at merlin and ask whats wrong with him

when they find out whats been going on they go all “oh shit” and urge everyone to stand still and not make a move. arthur inquires and they answer. magic has built up within him. magics natural state is free, it wishes to be used and to fly free, to be cooped up within someone is like caging a wild stallion. it bucks and kicks at the gate, bites at its handlers, and fights like hell to be set free. the magic thats been trapped within merlin for a couple of weeks is practically tearing him apart from the inside trying to set itself free. but! they can’t just tell him to use magic here. even the smallest use of magic would be a crack in a dam that would crumble like ash and set all the magic free. and with all that magic - all of emrys’s magic? he could very well flatten the city.

they cautiously, EXTREMELY cautiously, guide merlin out of the room, out of the castle, and into the middle of the woods. they urged everyone (who followed which is like arthur and his knights) back and out of the forest. then from a distance, the eldest druid mentally reached out to merlin and instructed him to let his magic loose. within seconds a blast of pure golden light shoots forth and flattens the entire forest, the druids casting a large shield to protect themselves, arthur, and his men.

merlin staggers to his feet in the distance and the eldest druid reaches out again, for safe measure, and tells him to let loose once more. merlin obeys and reaches down into the ground and pulls all the trees back up and imbues them with life so they thrive once more. the druids claim the forest as their own, sacred by order of emrys. arthur allows it. and then goes home to draft up a magic ban repeal. and an apology to merlin.

[antivivziepopparade]

All of the proof that we have that Vivziepop is abusive. (So far....)

While you support this post please go ahead and support my channel to see more about Vivziepop's abusive behavior. Thanks!

1. She rushes her employees.

Season 1 was made in 2020. While Season 2 was made in 2021 while being released with MULTIPLE EPISODES only ONE year later.

That's-

INSANE!

-and im about to tell you why:

The average cartoon needs almost ONE WHOLE YEAR to produce one episode. And this is what we see in MAINSTREAM shows.

Meanwhile, Helluva Boss took only one year (and a half) to make MULTIPLE ENTIRE EPISODES that last over 20 minutes. The longest waiting time for an episode being 8 months. Not even a year, and we get multiple episodes off the drawing board.

You can even see here that it's taken only three years to make 16 episodes. When this is an indie studio, so this should have taken so much longer to make. Yet for some reason, it took only a few years for us to get full seasons. In 2021, we got over 4 episodes alone. Have you ever wondered why these episodes come out so fast while other shows take a lot longer to get new seasons? That's an easy question to ask... Spindlehorse...

Is being ABUSED.

And I have the proof to show.

2. The pay controversy.

Spindlehorse's payment has been under controversy for providing the lowest pay possible to those that work at the studio.

One piece of evidence was given by Adam himself (albeit unintentionally) by saying this:

This kind of pay is highly unstable! And before you say "But he didn't force them to be there-"

LOOK.

The employees themselves admitted that they had no choice. People had no choice and Vivienne Medrano took advantage of that for her own selfish desires. This is disgusting treatment of a studio as small as Spindlehorse. Or any studio for that matter.

Hell! chaifootsteps said once that once Zeurel released that he was paying his animators too low, he deleted one of the tweets showing the low pay and decided to do something to give his employees better wages. Meanwhile, Chimera Bunny pays even less than Viv does and just because paying your workers low is normal in the animation industry- plot twist: Doesn't make it ok!

People have suffered so much in this industry, it's why "New Deal for Animation" exists. The only reason you haven't seen many Vivziepop workers having protests and speaking out is because Vivziepop says things like this behind people's backs if they "dare" do anything she doesn't like:

So that explains as to why so many people remain as "anon" or say nothing at all because they got cold feet. Vivienne's terrible!

Especially since even her top employees have admitted to not being paid enough despite Adam's "I pay them to stay if they make us the most mon-ey!" claims from the article:

Also this:

This is how she speaks about her own employees:

"YOU DONT LIKE HOW I TREAT YOU?! FUCK OFF!"

Straight up abuse.

Also, wasn't Walt Disney known for abusing his employees?

To the point where people had an entire protest in 1914 about it?

Wow... such a healthy workplace treatment comparison. Doesn't make Vivziepop look more like a jerk.... at all! /s

3. She bullies kids/laughed at a sa victim that was sa'ed by her friends. As one kid was bullied into a panic attack (I know them personally) back in about 2020 and Viv decided to vague post about them behind their back even after they apologized.

For someone who's so focused on "forgiving despite cancel culture" she sure likes to blame and harass people for disliking even ONE thing about her show or herself. One thing- and you're harassed over making a meme about a cartoon with fictional characters (What Froot Did that set Vivziepop and Gumball off.)

Secondly, one of her friends sexually harassed a minor.

And instead of acknowledging the sa, Vivziepop wrote this:

She ended up calling it a "joke" and made fun of the victim involved.

This is outright abusive behavior that should not be tolerated.

Children don't deserve to be traumatized this way. Especially over something as simple as making memes about a cartoon (negative or not) or simply telling someone to stop fetishizing abuse.

More on this in this video made by Gummypop:

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAND-

That's all that I have for now!

Will likely be updating this post in the future. Goodbye!

EDIT:

More evidence of Vivziepop using abusive language and slander against her employees behind their back. Claims of them being a "stalker" (like she did to Kedi and also its clear that she told her employees to say that Kaz was a "stalker" otherwise how else would they be saying these things after she fired them.) along with using abusive language such as "CUNT!" to prefer to Kaz this way in a professional setting I cannot. 💀

More evidence of Vivziepop harassing a kid:

ANOTHER edit:

More evidence, she's burning them the HELL out!

Yet ANOTHER edit:

More evidence of Spindlehorse being abusive:

EDIT:

Even MORE evidence:

The fact that the story AND the storyboards AND the animating for season one's episodes were all done in one year is just so crazy to me like... WHAT?! Either way, this post will continue to extend the more that I find evidence. So remember to look forward to that one!

EDIT:

Sadly no, as animation abuse is so common that the police dont even see it as an issue. The last time I tried to call the police on her they needed a location. The problem? There is no location of Spindlehorse since it's a "private" studio. So because of that viv gets away with abuse despite the obvious implications of her behavior and how many people came out with allegations towards her.

[solarmorrigan]

For the angst prompt thing: Steddie and "Don't fucking touch me."

Hello! Thank you very much for sending a prompt, I'm sorry it took me so long to post, but I do think this one is my favorite out of all the fills I've done for this prompt list <3

[No warnings; Unnamed Freak (who apparently got a name in the most recent novel, but I didn't know that at the time) is named Oliver]

Angsty-ish Prompt List

-

“I’m gonna step outside for a minute,” Steve leans in to murmur in Eddie’s ear, even though the music isn’t that loud.

“Yeah, sounds good.” Eddie nods, and only just keeps himself from turning to catch Steve’s mouth in a kiss when he feels the brush of his lips against his ear; it’s not his fault he’s developed some kind of Pavlovian association between having Steve’s mouth anywhere near his skin and receiving kisses – but they do have company.

Said company is just Gareth, Jeff, and Oliver, but still. Eddie has some decorum.

Steve stands from the couch and the arm he’d had slung around Eddie’s shoulders slides away slowly, his hand brushing warm and heavy over the back of Eddie’s neck, thumb stroking once, familiarly, along the side of his throat before disappearing entirely as Steve moves towards the front door. He doesn’t do so great with groups of people in small spaces anymore; the noise gets to him, and the heat generated by so many bodies in close proximity tends to give him a headache, so he takes breaks now and then, just to give his brain a few minutes to unbend.

The door swings open on silent hinges (Steve had attacked it with a can of WD-40 and a look of determination earlier today, insisting he couldn’t stand the squeaking anymore; he’s always doing things like that around the house – little repairs, organizing, picking things up, even though Eddie insists he doesn’t have to. He says he wants to, the endearing little weirdo) and Steve steps out into the cool evening, leaving Eddie and the boys behind in the warm light of the trailer’s main room.

“So,” Jeff says, looking up from his spot on the floor and gesturing vaguely at Eddie with his beer can, “how’s that going for you guys?”

Eddie blinks at him. “How’s what going?”

“The whole thing between you two,” Jeff clarifies, and Eddie raises a skeptical brow at him.

“You wanna talk about me and Steve having sex?” Eddie asks.

Jeff’s nose scrunches in distaste. “What? No.”

“Not ever,” Gareth jumps in.

“I mean…” Oliver says with a shrug, flinching when Gareth pelts him with a balled-up napkin.

“No,” Gareth reiterates.

“I refuse to apologize for simple curiosity,” Oliver sniffs, and Eddie, seated next to him on the couch, gives him a shove.

He’s glad his friends are accepting – supportive, even (he’d like to say he wouldn’t hang out with them if they weren’t, but let’s be real: nerds could be hard to come by in their neck of the woods, and as long as they were the quiet type of homophobic, Eddie would probably still play D&D with them. But he’s glad they’re not), but he does have some boundaries.

Like, one or two, maybe.

“I just meant the whole… dating thing,” Jeff says, taking a sip from his beer. “Because I’ll be honest, I really didn’t see it at first, but it actually seems to be working out.”

“Dating?” Eddie parrots blankly.

“Yeah. You guys are in, like, some kind of never-ending honeymoon phase or some shit,” Gareth says. “Hasn’t it been over two months?”

“Uhhh, no, I think you gentlemen are confused,” Eddie drawls. “Steve and I are not dating.”

This declaration is met with a moment of silence.

“Seriously?” Oliver finally says.

“Yep,” Eddie replies easily. “No relationship shit here. Strictly a friends-with-benefits-type deal.”

“Seriously,” Olver says again, flatly this time.

“Yes, Oliver, seriously,” Eddie huffs, reaching over to give him another shove, only to have his hand pushed away.

“Eddie, he was practically sitting in your lap just now,” Jeff says. “You two are all over each other.”

“Constantly,” Gareth adds.

Eddie shrugs. “It’s not like this is a big couch; we gotta squish. Anyway, Steve’s just a touchy kind of guy.”

“He doesn’t sit like that with any of us,” Gareth points out.

“Yeah, well, you guys aren’t the ones receiving benefits,” Eddie says. “You want him to sit on your lap? You could ask.”

Gareth lets his head hang back with a noise of frustration. “That’s not the point, and you know it.”

“Don’t you two go on dates?” Jeff asks. “I’ve seen you at the movies. You talk about going out to eat, doing other shit…”

“Yeah, see, that’s the friends part of friends with benefits,” Eddie snarks. “Friends hang out sometimes, I’ve been told. We are all, in fact, hanging out right now, but that doesn’t mean I’m dating any of you.”

“You don’t see the way he looks at you?” Oliver asks, and Eddie can’t help but scoff.

He appreciates the fact that Oliver is passionate about pretty much anything he does, but it also means he’s given to romanticizing. He doesn’t usually manage to drag Jeff or Gareth in with him, though.

“Pretty sure he looks at me like a friend, because that’s what we are.” Eddie rolls his eyes before offering a smarmy little grin. “I mean, I’m sure he looks at me as an exceptionally attractive friend, but that’s it.”

“Genuinely can’t tell if you’re fucking with us, man,” Jeff says, rolling his eyes.

“Genuinely, I am not,” Eddie promises, taking the last viable swallow from his beer before getting up and heading for the kitchen, wiggling his empty can at the others with a raised eyebrow in question. Gareth raises his own near-empty can with a shrug and Eddie nods. “Look,” he says as he ducks towards the fridge, “Steve isn’t the kinda guy you have a relationship with, anyway, you know?”

Eddie doesn’t mean this in a negative way, just as a matter of fact. Steve just doesn’t seem to be a relationship kind of guy. Nancy had been something of an outlier, in how long she and Steve had lasted, and it had become clear after the dust from the Upside Down had settled that he really doesn’t have any interest in pursuing her further. Just the other day, he’d mentioned to Eddie how difficult relationships can be, and about how glad he is they have their thing together instead.

“Being with you is just… easy,” Steve had said; he hadn’t been looking at Eddie at the time, his face instead pillowed on Eddie’s chest, hair sticking to his naked skin where the sweat was still cooling from their last round, but Eddie could see the edge of a smile on his lips.

And Eddie doesn’t have much experience with relationships himself, but he knows that being friends with Steve is easy and that the sex feels equally easy and that the way he’d agreed with Steve and carded his fingers through his hair had sent Steve right to sleep with that same smile still in place.

Easy.

Now, Eddie shoves his head into the fridge and reaches for the beers that have somehow gotten pushed to the back. “It’s nothing major, okay?” he calls back towards the living room.

“Eddie…” Gareth calls back, an edge to his voice.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m on it.” Eddie waves vaguely, making sure to grab a second beer. “Anyway, Steve’s a good friend, and he’s really hot, and we’re just having fun.”

The bang of the front door against the frame startles Eddie so badly he nearly smacks his head on the underside of the freezer as he stands, a beer clutched in each hand like he might be able to use them as projectiles.

There is no threat, though – just Steve, who had apparently failed to catch the screen door before it had shut too quickly behind him. He doesn’t seem to have noticed; he’s just standing there, staring at Eddie, color rising high in his cheeks, eyes wide and shocked, like he’s just been slapped.

Concern wells up from Eddie’s gut, and he opens to his mouth to ask what’s wrong when Steve finally speaks.

“Yeah,” he croaks, “I’m not having fun.”

Eddie’s brows furrow in confusion, the beginnings of cold dread trickling into his veins well ahead of any conscious thought.

“I think I– I think I should go,” Steve says.

He grabs his keys from the side table by the door, where they’ve lived next to Eddie’s and Wayne’s for the last few months whenever he’s been at the house, and then he’s gone again, the screen door banging shut once more behind him.

And Eddie has no idea what just happened, but he knows it wasn’t good. He drops the beers on the counter and bolts out the door after Steve.

Steve is nearly to his car by the time Eddie scrambles down the front steps, and he’s paying absolutely no attention when Eddie calls after him.

“Steve,” Eddie tries again, stumbling to a stop right behind him as he jams his keys into the driver’s side lock. “Steve, for fuck’s sake, what–” he reaches out, wrapping one hand around Steve’s bicep, and Steve jerks out of his grip.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” Steve snaps.

Eddie pulls his hand back, but doesn’t step away, entirely baffled by the sudden turn the evening has taken. “What the hell happened back there?”

Steve goes still, grip going lax on his keys. “I heard what you said, Eddie.”

“About – about what? Are you mad I was talking to them about us sleeping together? Because, Steve, they already knew,” Eddie insists, a little incredulous. “You said you were fine with them knowing! You were practically feeling me up in front of them!”

“I don’t give a shit if they know we’re having sex!” Steve hisses, finally whirling around to look at Eddie. “I meant the rest. About how I’m not the kind of guy you have a relationship with.”

Eddie’s stomach sinks. He hadn’t realized that was such a sensitive subject. “I – shit, I wasn’t trying to hurt your feelings, I just didn’t think you wanted–”

“About how we’re just having fun,” Steve cuts in, and if he’d sounded raw before, his voice is practically ground down to nothing now.

That brings Eddie up short. “…aren’t we?” he asks after a moment.

Steve says nothing.

“I mean, shit, Steve, it’s not like we’re in a relationship,” Eddie says, offering a little laugh, because even Steve would have to admit that the idea is a little silly.

Except.

Except Steve just glances away, staring at the ground beside Eddie’s feet, and – oh, shit.

“Oh, shit.”

Steve is still unnervingly silent, one arm curled around his middle while the other hand comes up to pinch briefly at the bridge of his nose. He still won’t look at Eddie.

“You… you thought we were,” Eddie says dumbly, and Steve shrugs.

“Can you blame me? We spend all our time together, Eddie. I’m here more than I’m at my own house, I think I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve slept in my own bed in the last month. We go out and do things together, I try to keep things nice around the house because I want Wayne to like me, we have, like, a lot of sex, and– we… I mean, we kiss and touch and just – do shit like that even when it doesn’t lead anywhere.” Steve shrugs helplessly, finally looking up. “I mean, Christ, Eddie, what did you think we were doing?”

“I thought we were friends!” Eddie insists. Steve throws him an incredulous look and Eddie amends, “With benefits!”

“Right.” Steve’s expression flattens back out, going cold and hard and unlike anything Eddie’s become used to from him. “Because I’m not the kind of guy you’d want to have a relationship with.”

“I said that because I thought you didn’t want to be in a relationship!” Eddie snaps. “It’s not like you stay with anyone for very long, so I just assumed you didn’t want to be with anyone.”

Some of the ice retreats from Steve’s face, leaving a watering kind of hurt in its stead. “Do you listen to me at all when I talk?”

“What? Of course I do!” Eddie might have gotten turned around in certain respects, but he will not have his merits as a friend called into question; of course he listens to Steve.

“Are you sure? Because I talk about you an awful lot. I talk about doing things with you, about doing things in the future with you,” Steve says pointedly, “about how I want to stay with you.”

And Eddie had wanted Steve to stay with him, too. He’s just been thinking – well, he’d thought it was because they get along so well, that Steve had wanted to stick around. That it had only made sense.

“We never talked about… being anything else,” Eddie says, the protest a little weak even to his own ears. “I’m pretty sure I’d remember that.”

Steve pulls a sharp breath in, pinching at the bridge of his nose again; he leaves his hand there this time, eyes scrunched shut. “Just a few days ago, I told you how much I liked being with you. How good and how easy it felt compared to anyone else I’ve ever been with,” he says, barely more than a rough whisper. “And you said…”

I like being with you, too.

Eddie had said that.

He’d meant that he likes being around Steve, likes being his friend, definitely likes having sex with him, but he’d said it while combing his fingers through Steve’s hair, while cuddled up with him in bed, and – okay, yes, he can see the mixed signals there. He can see where Steve might have gotten the idea that they didn’t have an arrangement, that they were just together.

“I– I didn’t mean–”

“Obviously,” Steve snaps, dropping his hand from his face and turning back towards his car.

Eddie tsks, frustrated, and reaches out to grab Steve’s wrist – not pulling, just trying to keep his attention.

“Don’t,” Steve warns him, pulling back from his grasp for a second time.

“I didn’t mean to lead you on,” Eddie tries desperately. “I really… I really didn’t.”

“Yeah. I can see that. But Eddie…” Steve is quiet for a moment, posture so tense and still that Eddie suspects he’s not even breathing. “I’m probably the best-qualified asshole around to tell you that you really have to fucking think about how what you’re doing affects the people around you.”

Somehow, that stings more than any screamed insult Steve could have thrown at him.

“Steve…”

“I’ll come get my shit out of your place tomorrow,” Steve says, low and sharp, before getting into his car and slamming the door behind him.

After that, Eddie has no choice but to step back or get run over, and he watches until Steve’s taillights are no longer visible.

He can hear the hissing of some whispered conversation just beyond the door as he trudges back up the front steps, but his friends fall conspicuously quiet the moment he steps inside.

“…hey,” Gareth finally ventures after several seconds of awkward, sticky silence.

“Hey,” Eddie says flatly.

“Do you… want us to stay?” Jeff asks.

Slowly, Eddie shakes his head. “I think I should… I need to– think about shit.”

The boys all nod, throwing him variously sympathetic glances and clapping him on the shoulder on their way out. Oliver pauses, as if he’s going to say something, but Gareth gives him a shove and gets him out the door before he has the chance. Probably for the best.

Eddie feels numb as he trudges back towards his room, trying to figure out what the hell had just happened.

He flops down on his bed, face landing in a pillow that smells entirely too much like Steve’s shampoo. Probably because it’s on the side of the bed that Steve always takes. Next to the nightstand with the small stack of sports magazines that definitely aren’t Eddie’s. And the spare pair of glasses that also isn’t Eddie’s.

With a low tug in his gut, Eddie realizes how much of Steve’s stuff has crept into his room, into the trailer, into his life – how much Steve has become a part of his life, how much of Eddie’s day has been built around him, how much he’s come to lean on his presence, has come to want him there.

And Steve is going to take it all back sometime soon. Take all of his things away before he removes himself from Eddie’s life, too, because Eddie hadn’t been thinking and he hadn’t been careful and he hadn’t realized–

Eddie’s pretty sure he just broke up with Steve.

He’s also pretty sure he hadn’t wanted to.

His main consolation, as he curls up on his side, nose still buried in Steve’s pillow, is that as soon as Robin hears what happened (and she will hear, he has no doubt), she’ll probably come murder him.

At least he won’t have to wallow for long.

Part 2

[honest-moth-of-silver-grove]

hc for adrian having a girlfriend or s/o prior to his mother's death. they're human and maybe her apprentince or something. and the church takes her too, but before they can burn her at the stake, dracula shows up and rescues her because he knows lisa was fond of her. during adrians and draculas fight maybe she interbenes at a critical moments so drac doesnt kill him and alucard gets away but she's now a prisoner of dracula w/n his castle. and maybe she befriends the generals?

A/N: Aw, man. Sometimes I wonder if Lisa did have an apprentice, that maybe Dracula wouldn’t be as anti-human as he ended up being, or if she could start to turn him to see the error of his ways sometime before Alucard and Dracula end up in Adrian’s childhood bedroom. 

Apologies for the delays in updates. But my brain went WILD with this request so it’s a long one, I hope that makes up for the less frequent posting. Anyway, I hope you enjoy these somewhat bittersweet (then depressing then bittersweet again) headcanons! (Also this is unbeta-ed and prob grammatically messy as hell, so read at your own expense lol.) 

Word Count: 6.2k 

TW: Canon Typical Descriptions of Graphic Violence; Brief Mentions of Sexual Violence; Canon Death; Descriptions of Torture (the church is high-key fucked up here)  

Adrian W/ A Human S/O Reader (Who’s Also Lisa’s Apprentice, Prior to Her Death):   

━━━━━ ❂ ━━━━━   

The Beginning:   

Okay, so let’s get one thing straight… FIRST OF ALL, Lisa would adore you!!! Like, you make her baby boy happy and you’re smart??? What else is there to it? And then to top it all off, you’re super sweet and kind and interested in learning about medicine and the world around you!   

Lisa meets you once over dinner and she’s already planning the wedding in her head.   

Adrian is smitten, because of course he is, but in an adorable, somewhat restrained way. He doesn't have a lot (ahem, ANY) experience in this department, so he’s hesitant to take things forward with you, mainly because he doesn’t want to scare you off or make you suspicious about what he is. (It’s hard to make out with someone when you have two big vampire fangs in the front.)   

Adrian is young, like you. So, on top of all the complications, he feels no need to rush things. Sure, he’s heard a few whispers here and there about Dracula having a son, a son who according to rumors and gossiping villagers is to rise as the antithesis of Dracula. It’s all silly superstition, but it does stay fixed in the back of his mind. What would this future legacy mean for his relationship with you? And, should it ever come to pass, would you even be a part of it?   

That’s neither here nor there though, and in the meantime, the two of you simply enjoy the talking phase. You get to learn more about each other's interests, and beliefs, but mostly, you spend time in proximity to one another— you remain busy attending to his mother, learning all you can about healing while he, just a table over, spends his time rereading one of his many favorite tomes.   

I honestly don’t see you meeting Dracula until you and Adrian are like a fully committed couple. I’m pretty sure you would have to have been Lisa’s apprentice for a while and/or lived with the Tepes in their Lupu cottage for months before Lisa finally breaks through Dracula’s protests and makes him officially meet you.   

I don’t think that meeting would happen in Lupu either. No, I imagine it would have to take place at Dracula’s castle, just in case you were to freak out, you’d have no way of escaping and telling any others.   

I can almost see your reaction being similar to Lisa’s upon first entering the castle, especially if Adrian is already at your side. Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure Dracula is terrifying, but there’s also a giant telescope in the next room calling your name so….   

Much to Adrian’s relief, this newfound information doesn’t make you frightened of him at all, if anything, it simply reignites your fascination with him. You throw rapid-fire questions at him: If he's part vampire, how come you’ve seen him eating human food? Does he need both food and blood to satisfy each of his halves? If he needs blood, he could take some of yours you know…   

Your penchant for learning softens Dracula a little. For a brief time, he wonders if, perhaps, it was as Lisa said, that the humans could change, that humanity was changing for the better.   

He sits across from you at their grand dinner table, watching you intensely as you and Adrian talk about the recent literature you’ve read. You’d no doubt feel Dracula’s all-powerful gaze on you, making you turn to him and… Wait, did you just smile?!   

You’ve got guts, Dracula will give you that.   

Knowing the family secret, you can’t exactly break up with Adrian, nor do you have any desire to. I wonder if Dracula would have rings made for the two of you, maybe commission a new family portrait or two.   

You stay with Lisa in Lupu during Dracula's travels. Adrian is around, although he's always off between the castle and their cottage, so you never feel entirely alone or vulnerable. Your life is perfect! It’s better than you could have ever imagined!   

That is, until…   

━━━━━ ● ━━━━━   

The During:   

When the Church comes to take Lisa, you beg them to see reason. You cry and scream, hell, you even try to fight your way out at one point, only for both you and Dr. Tepes to be overpowered by the Church’s henchman.   

The two of you are taken, violently, to Targoviste, where you’re thrown into dark, damp cells with little to no light. Freezing, you huddle together for warmth, each trying your best to reassure the other, that all will turn out well. Adrian was still around, right? He’ll have to come home to find you missing, he’ll come and rescue you. And Dracula was due to return soon, correct? Surely, they’ll come. Surely, they’ll stop this madness.   

It’s a few days later, after hours of interrogation and brutal torture that you realize with a heavy heart, that no one is coming to rescue you. And what’s worse, that these so-called men of the cloth cannot and will not listen to reason. You’re starved and beaten, your hair is sliced off so close to your skin, that they take bits of your scalp with it in some places. And despite initially being imprisoned with Lisa, you find yourself being separated from her for longer periods.   

The men try everything to get you to turn on her. They tell you if you recant her wicked ways now, say she used her evil magic to trick you, your sentencing will be easier. You could still live— they dangle betrayal in front of you as a last lifeline. You don’t take it of course. You love Mrs. Tepes, and you know she’s no witch. You muster what little might you have left, spitting at the men as you tell them to go to hell. You swear she’s innocent, that she knows nothing. Hell, at one point, you find yourself confessing to having manipulated her! You don’t think they buy it though, if the poor doctor’s screams from down the hall are anything to go by.   

The night they light the pyre, the night of Lisa’s murder, you’re sick on more than one occasion. You scream your throat raw, begging them to burn you first! That she was innocent! That you corrupted her! That it was all your doing! But to no avail.   

In a scene that could only rival the Crucifixion of Christ himself, you look up through tear-soaked eyes to see Lisa, enshrouded in flames, begging Dracula to show mercy on her killers, to forgive them, that they know not what they do. “I know it's not your fault,” she cries out, “But, if you can hear me, they don't know what they're doing! Be better than them. Please!”   

You sob and wail, watching as your would-be mother-in-law is burned alive. You scream out for someone, anyone! To please help you, save you! With Lisa’s last words echoing in your mind, you can’t help but fear Adrian’s and his Father’s reactions, should they find you both killed.

Oh, gods…   

You don’t know what makes you feel sicker… The barbaric display you’re witnessing now or the hypothetical one that threatens to wipe out all living people in Wallachia once Dracula learns of what’s happened. You need not wait long for an answer.   

In a fury of fire and grandeur, Dracula’s head appears, molded in flame, demanding to know what has happened to his wife. You cry out to him, apologizing profusely, saying you begged them to burn you first! You scream out how they refused to see reason, they killed her for helping! Injudiciously, in your indignant anger, you plead with Dracula to release his fury on the priests who did this, to send them to hell to be tortured for eternity for this unforgivable transgression!   

With the silent fury of a gathering storm, Dracula’s fiery visage speaks calmly as his anger grows concertedly less. "I give you one year Wallachians,” he finally decides. “You have one year to make your peace and remove any marks you have made upon the land. One year, and I'll wipe all human life from the land of Wallachia. You took that which I love, so I will take from you everything you have and everything you have ever been. One year."   

No sooner than he spits out the words, a coil of fire bursts from his image, winding itself around your body. The guards surrounding you gasp and flee, avoiding the coil’s tail as it whips back and forth, hoisting you into the air.   

The fiery coil burns your skin, and the smell of even more burnt flesh makes you gag. If you had any bile left over at all, you’re certain it’d come up yet again. The pain is like a thousand stinging nettles and boiling water constricting your arms and midriff all at once. Your vision grows blurry as you feel your body move through the air, your nostrils taking in one last wretched breath of sulfur and smoke.   

━━━━━ ◉ ━━━━━   

The After — Part One:   

When you awake you find yourself laid, practically bare, a heap on the floor within Dracula’s castle— the evil Lord himself only feet away, raging over his magic well— as shards of his magic mirror whip around him at incredible speeds. Your head is pounding, it feels as if it might explode, and your arms… Fuck.   

Where the supernatural coil grabbed you, your skin was red and raw, small pockets of blisters already beginning to form. Your arms tremble uncontrollably as you try to move them, the pain that’s consuming your nerves is far too intense to hold them steady as you sit up into an upright position.   

It doesn’t feel real; nothing feels real. It feels like a nightmare. It had all been perfect, everything was perfect— you all were happy! How did it turn into such horror so fast?   

Shakily, you rise to your feet and clutch the remains of your clothes to your chest in an attempt to preserve your modesty, although it’s more of a subconscious act on your part. Everything feels like it’s moving in slow motion, yourself included. It’s like the air is heavier here somehow, its weight filling your lungs and weighing you down.   

A loud noise shocks you back to the present, nearly making you stumble over in fright. At least you would have, had Adrian not used his superspeed to catch you before you fell. One of his gloved hands grasps your left arm directly over the burn, causing you to let out a hiss. His rectangular eyes look wider than you’ve ever seen as he releases his grip, looking over your battered form.   

“(Y/N) ...” Adrian says, his voice serious and quiet, barely a whisper.   

You shake your head furiously, unable to trust your ability to speak without breaking. Upon Adrian’s gentle insistence, you feel your mouth opening, and the words slipping out, scraping against the back of your reddened throat as they exit your frail body.   

“They killed her, Adrian…” you whisper, your voice quivering. “I, we tried to stop them, they just wouldn’t listen!” Somehow, your eyes begin to water again, despite your earlier certainty that your body had no water nor tears left in it at all.   

“Once she realized they wouldn't listen to reason, she lied and told them I was innocent. She told them she had manipulated me, that I was just a child, that I didn’t know what I was doing, that she never got the chance to teach me!” A feeling of guilt consumes you as you speak the words aloud, and soon enough, your body is once again plagued by uncontrollable sobs.   

Adrian listens intently to your words, his brows furrowed. You watch through teary eyes as a range of emotions flash across his face: anger, hurt, pain, sorrow, and finally… acceptance. Your beloved hardens his gaze, choking down whatever grief he may be feeling. At the present, Adrian knows, there are more pressing matters at hand.   

You follow Adrian’s steely gaze back, seeing his Father where he is bent over his summoning circle, cursing in a language that is foreign to you before he switches back to Romanian.   

“One year! It will take me one year to summon an army from the guts of Hell itself!” Dracula proclaims, promising to enact vengeance for the death of his love.   

“No.” Adrian counters, slipping out of your grasp.   

“Adrian,” you whisper, warningly. “Don’t—”   

“What do you mean, ‘no’? That woman was the only reason on Earth for me to tolerate human life!”  Dracula retaliates, enraged his son could even conceive of such lenience.   

“Then find the one who did the deed,” Alucard proposes. “If you set loose an army of the night on Wallachia, you cannot undo it, and many thousands of people just as innocent as her will suffer and die.”   

“There are no innocents! Not anymore! Any one of them could have stood up and said, ‘No, we won't behave like animals anymore.’"   

“(Y/N) did.” Adrian points out. “She tried to take all the blame, in an attempt to save Mother’s life.”   

Dracula looks over at you with blood-red eyes, contempt clear on his face. “And yet,” he snarls, “Here she stands, and my Wife, your Mother does not!” He hisses the last word, livid that out of the two of you, you were the one who survived.   

With large, fearful eyes, you watch as Adrian closes the gap between him and his Father.   

“I won't let you do it. I grieve with you, but I won't let you commit genocide.”   

“Adrian,” you warn again.   

The next bit happened all so quickly.   

Faster than you could blink, you watch, helpless, frozen in horror as Adrian charges his father, his longsword drawn. Despite their vampiric speed being unrecognizable to the untrained human eye, you swear you watch the scene unfold in slow motion. Adrian charges first, but Dracula, roaring in a fit of rage, counters faster— his Father’s elongated claws slash diagonally across Adrian’s chest, before his fist pauses, still embedded deep within your lover’s gut.   

You don’t have time to think before you act. To you, Adrian has the abilities of a god, but to his Father… It was clear there’d be no match. You have no clue how you got your hands on it, no idea as to how you even managed a successful hit, but the next thing you know, a triangular shard of magic mirror is impaled in Great Lord Dracula’s back, put there by your very hand.   

Too terrified to even breathe, the only sound you can hear beyond your racing pulse is a wet, gory squelch as Dracula retracts his claws from Adrian’s body. You hear the spray of blood before you see it, a rush of bright red blood gushes onto the marble floor between Dracula and his son.   

Standing at his impressive full height, Dracula turns ever so slowly, ever so menacingly, to face you. His pupils are that of a blood moon, his sclera so bloodshot they practically look as black as night. In that second, you know you’ve fucked up.   

You cower as Dracula raises one hand to you, instinctively shielding your neck from his nasty bloodied talons. With surprisingly repressed strength, Dracula backhands you, the force sending you flying backward, smashing into the base of one of the curved bookshelves lining the walls of his summoning room.   

With his focus still on you, Dracula stalks toward you. Knowing it’s now or never, you scream at Adrian to flee. “Run!” The words rip out of your raw throat, sounding like an eleventh commandment.   

You see Adrian, previously stunned by his Father’s disregard for his life, holding together the gaping wound across his chest. He has no time to even spare you, his beloved, a last look before evaporating into clouds, his cloud of bloodied mist bolting for the door, fleeing as fast as his injured state would allow him.   

Dracula only turns to watch as his son, his very possibly fatally wounded son, flees the confines of his castle. For a moment it is silent— only the sound of both yours and Dracula’s heaving breaths echo across the chamber.   

Clenching his clawed fingers into a fist, Dracula says nothing as he too makes his way to the castle doors, leaving your bruised and broken body alone in the dark.   

━━━━━ ❍ ━━━━━   

The After — Part Two:   

Somehow, Christ only knows, you find your way to one of Lisa’s old labs and do a half-assed job of patching yourself up. You find your burns and dislocated shoulder to be the most painful of injuries.    

Thankfully, Lisa had taught you enough about setting a patient’s shoulder that you managed to smash it into an adjacent wall, popping your joint back in yourself. The burns you wrap in honey and milk-soaked linen gauze, wincing every time the bandages brush against your skin. It’s awful work, slow work too, but you must have managed it alright because you find yourself patched up and passed out in one of the castle’s kitchens a few hours (or days? had it been days?) after that.   

You eat raw vegetables and berries— nothing that requires cooking. Lord knows you couldn't prepare anything successfully now even if you were to try. Eating your foraged meal in silence you debate your next steps. Do you go back home? Would your family even welcome you home after your long and unexplained absence? And if they, along with all the humans in Wallachia were ultimately to be driven from the land, did it matter anyway?   

‘Oh god,’ you think. You have to warn them, have to make them flee before a year is up. But where would you go? Where could you go? Greater Styria was a possibility, although it was not by any means an easy journey, and the climate there was much colder than your folks were used to here. You shakily rise to your feet and set out to find a map within one of the Castle’s many libraries.   

After a good night’s rest, you find your mindset with a newfound determination: you will go home. You were going to get your family on the move and then… Then, you’d come back here.   

You knew, in all likelihood, that returning to Dracula’s castle after the fact entailed certain death. But you also knew, things would get worse if he were to be left alone.   

Dracula may not have ever loved you for a daughter-in-law. Hell, he may not have ever loved anyone aside from Mrs. Tepes, but you promised her while huddling together that first night in those dingy cells that no matter what happened, should either of you get out alive, you would not leave Adrian and Vlad. “They need humans, (Y/N),” Lisa coughed into your ear. “And most importantly, humanity needs them.”   

Dracula would resent your company, he would want to be rid of you. But you could not be rid of him, not after what Lisa had asked of you.   

‘Besides,’ you thought, ‘Nobody should have to grieve alone.’   

The journey back home to your parents is majorly uneventful. Sure, it was touch and go for a while, your body was exhausted after the ordeal you endured, and your wounds had gotten infected once or twice. Thankfully, you had the mind to pack with you any potential treatments you might need.   

It felt good to be home, to be amongst family again. You couldn’t stop crying and hugging everyone when you first arrived. You kept the details to a minimum but made it clear they needed to be the hell out of Wallachia before a year. You told them you had found an apprenticeship, that the woman was kind to you, but while in Targoviste, you saw the burning of a witch, and soon after the face of Satan himself appeared in flames, threatening the crowd. It caused a panic, you see, and you had gotten trampled in the process.   

You didn’t bother to explain that the woman you were learning under was this so-called witch and that this Satanic figure was her husband. Nor did you tell them of your half-inhuman partner. You knew had you told the family the whole truth, they might have cast you out as a devil worshiper and a liar and choose not to heed your words.   

Your warnings spread through your extended family like how ivy creeps up a stone wall. A fair part of your relatives in the country believed you enough to agree to uproot their lives and settle outside of Wallachia: some settled on Syria, others had decided on Greece, Egypt, or Rome. The more skeptical ones who hemmed and hawed over the validity of your claims agreed to move into the countryside, a decent distance from any major Wallachian city or village.   

When you were certain they’d heed your words, you told them you could not stay with them, your Mother wept for three straight days and your Father could do little to console her. As much as it broke your family’s heart, you knew that your need to return to Castlevania was larger than yours. You weren't just doing it for your family, you were doing it for every family across the land. You couldn't be selfish. Mrs. Tepes was the most selfless woman you had met, and she taught you well. If you meant what you said to her when you first met, that you wanted to help people, you would need to buck up and accept the consequences of that.   

Your journey back to the castle was much more melancholy than your journey home. You could almost feel the whispers of the tortured souls Dracula had slain before blowing cold air into your ears, begging you to turn back. Nevertheless, you continued. You entered Castlevania to find you were alone, however, that would not be the case for long.   

Months later you had fallen into somewhat of a predictable routine within the castle and its new occupants. Dracula had recruited two humans to serve as his war planners— men by the names of Hector and Isaac, respectively. You appreciate the levity Hector, and his undead pets bring, and you admire the intelligence and loyalty Isaac has. You just wish they weren’t going along with Dracula’s plan.   

You tread carefully as you find the time to express to each of his Generals that you wish they wouldn’t go through with this plan. You explain humans are not the kind of species to give in to subjugation, they will revolt eventually. You suggest the vampires come up with some sort of tit-for-tat system with the humans instead like, for example, promised blood servants would equal vampiric protection for that territory.  

It’s safe to say no one is impressed with your centrist ideals, so eventually stop taking part in the conversation. You silently hang around Hector, and just listen with a sorrowful expression, satisfied with knowing that if you can’t change the Generals' minds, you can, at the very least, make them somewhat uncomfortable.  

When Carmilla arrives, you’re immediately put off by her little display of insolence. Unlike yours, her dissent doesn’t seem to come from a place of concern. You make a mental note to keep an eye on her.  

It’s during the General's next argument that you receive a ray of hope: “We are quite certain that Alucard sleeps at Gresit.”  

You feel your body grow lighter.  

“So, that means,” you speak aloud to yourself more so to anyone else, “Adrian is alive?”  

You’re met with a handful of annoyed glares from the other vampires as Isaac continues: “And that there was recently a Belmont there.”  

Upon hearing Carmilla berate the others for not sending night creatures to the ancestral Belmont home, your smile falls and your improved mood falters. These Belmonts were famous monster hunters, famous enough to frighten your current vampire company. That means, if there was a Belmont in Gresit, at the same time as Adrian, as Alucard, whatever the hell he’s going by these days, it could prove disastrous for your love. For all you know, he’s still recovering from the wounds dealt to him by his Father. And if this Belmont, this monster hunter strikes first and asks questions later, he may accidentally kill the only living vampire in existence who stands against the very nature of this war.  

‘How ironic,’ you think solemnly. Just as fast as the universe gives you hope, it rips it away once more.  

You excuse yourself, and make your way towards Hector’s forge, aiming to distract your distraught mind with some cute reanimated pets.  

Shortly thereafter, Hector joins you. He asks if you truly did not know Dracula’s son was still alive. You shake your head ‘no’, telling him how you had prayed every past night to any God who would listen, that they would send their holy armies and angels to guard him, but no, you had mostly just feared he was dead.  

You spend the rest of the night talking to Hector about Alucard, Adrian as you knew him. How smart he was, how much the two of you used to laugh, and how much he looked just like his Mother.  

“Perhaps that’s why,” Hector supposes, “Dracula could no longer bear to see him.”  

You say perchance he’s right, conveniently leaving out the part where the Father and Son duo almost fought to the death right in front of you.  

The conversation with Hector reignites something within you. You feel as if you had been praying all this time for an answer, and this was it. Alucard was alive, and so was Belmont. You understand now what needs to be done.  

Your lover must once again fight his Father, and this time, he must win.  

Your silent observations allow you to learn of Carmilla’s scheme fairly early on, as well as Godbrand’s demise at the hands of Isaac, yet all that time, you say nothing. You keep your mouth shut and your eyes down. If Carmilla divides Dracula’s army and court, she will inevitably make it easier for Alucard and Belmont to destroy him.  

The Generals, and even Dracula himself, believe you are mourning the loss of your love for the second time, as his demise will be inevitable the moment he meets his Father and his armies— or at least, that’s what they assume.  

When Carmilla has Hector send special night creatures to the remains of the Belmont home, you attach a letter around one of the creature's necks, hoping your love will notice it, and if he doesn’t, you pray he instinctively outwits the traps that await for him within his Father’s castle.  

━━━━━ ❂ ━━━━━   

Beginning Again:   

The night Dracula chooses to move the Castle to Braila, you manage to speak with him one last time.  

You bring him some tea, even though you know he won’t drink it, and you tell him, for what must be the hundredth time, how sorry you are about all that’s happened. You apologize for not being able to do more to save his wife. You tell him that if you could do it all over again if you were given a choice between who they should burn first, you’d demand it be you.  

Dracula turns away from the fire to look at you upon hearing those words.  

“She was fond of you, you know.” He says, sounding far away as if lost in a distant memory. “She was overjoyed at the thought of gaining a daughter”  

You nodded along a hurt smile on your face. “It was my honor.” Gathering your courage you continued: “Even though it didn’t work out, I want you to know I loved your wife very much… And,” you kept going. “I love your son very much.”  

Dracula said nothing. He simply turned his attention back to the flames within his study’s fireplace.  

“It’s not too late, you know,” you prod gently. “If Adrian is alive, he could still come back, we could still be a family-”  

“No!” Dracula’s low growl sent shivers down your spine.  

For a moment you feared he would rise to attack you or perhaps berate you further, but no such action came. Instead, the former Great Lord Dracula’s shoulders deflated back to their hunched position, as he fell silent once again.  

Quietly, you made your way back to your room, shutting and locking the door behind you. If you had any tears left at all, you would have shed them throughout the night. Instead, you merely lay awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering if there would even be a tomorrow to awaken to.  

Pleased to still be alive at this point, but feeling increasingly suffocated by this overwhelming sense of doom, you spend the next day cooped up in your room, on your knees, the rosary in your hand, whispering prayers of safety for your loved one. You couldn't explain it, but at the time, you felt compelled to recite prayer after prayer and reveal all the fears and worries in your heart.  

You speak out to Death, to God, to all the angels and saints, and beg them to grant Adrian safe passage as he completes his task of saving humanity— it’s something his Mother would have wanted after all.  

Amidst your fervent prayers, you feel the Castle shake and creak, but you soon realize something is off: it keeps jerking from side to side, several times, way too many to be a case of a single relocation. Your heart races, and in the pit of your gut, you know this is it:

The Alucard has come.  

Your love has come back for you.  

You scramble behind the door, poised with a wooden stake in hand (just in case, you never know), and wait.  

And wait.  

And wait.  

Following a crescendo of metallic crashes and screaming, you hear more crashes, this time lesser in intensity and they’re accompanied by the distinct scent of fire, sulfur, and burnt flesh.  

It terrifies you, bringing such horrible memories of your almost demise to the surface. You look down at the burn scars on your arms and feel physically ill. Every time you shut your eyes to blink, you see the corpse of Ms. Tepes, burning alive right before you as if no time has passed at all, as if you’re trapped in the permanent hell of that memory.  

The overwhelming ornery atmosphere in the castle only grows, seeming to suddenly flood your nostrils and every pore.  

You watch in shock and horror as thousands of soot-colored transparent ghouls burst through your doorway, the shock of the impact sending you reeling into the bed. Tortured faces of all shapes and sizes circle you menacingly, before bursting through your room’s glass window, vanishing just as fast as they came.  

Within an instant you feel… lighter, freer almost. It’s as if something major has changed, but you don’t know what.  

Timidly, stake still in hand, you make your way down the castle corridors. Unfortunately, you have to take several detours, your regular route being cut off by giant holes in the architecture. A good portion of the castle looks like it had been hit with cannon fire.  

You sincerely hope that whatever caused that damage is no longer rampaging around these halls, lest you stumble upon them yourself.  

By the time you reach the throne room, the sun is just peeking out from behind the horizon. The sight of it flowing freely into the castle interior lifts your spirits with hope. Sunlight means no vampires. No vampires means…

You follow the originating path of the sun’s beams, finding three figures illustrated against the sunrise. One of them is a burly-looking man, with a large frame and broad shoulders. Another is a woman, at least, you’re fairly certain they’re a woman, with curly hair, dressed in flowing blue robes. And the third is….  

You don’t even need a second glance to know who the third person is.  

Crying out his name, you run towards your long-lost lover, almost losing your footing over all the debris covering the floor. But just as he would before, and just as he always would, your lover, Adrian, catches you before you can fall.  

The two of you cling to each other for dear life, just silently sobbing, feeling grateful to be in one another’s embrace. You’re not sure how long the two of you stay intertwined like that, you just know however long it was, it could never be enough to make up for how much you missed him this past year.  

“Adrian,” you clutch his coat, “I thought you were dead! I thought he had killed you! I was so worried.”  

“He almost did,” the strange broad-shoulder man reveals in a teasing fashion. You watch as the robed woman elbows him in the gut.  

“Alucard,” Adrian says, regaining your attention as he grasps your hands in his. “I am Alucard now.”  

You look into his golden eyes, sensing while this is still very much the body of the man you loved, this Alucard before you, is not the same person that your Adrian was. After all this time, it feels like quite the loss, and yet, you cannot fault him for it. You are unaware of the journey he’s been on, of the sacrifices he’s had to make. God knows your character must have changed as well, living amongst a vampire court and necromancers for just under a year.  

You back away from your love, temporarily ignoring his concerned expression.  

“Hello Alucard,” you say, extending a hand, “My name is (Y/N). And I’d very much like to share a drink with you if you’d let me.”  

“Don’ know about Alucard,” the broad man mumbles, gripping his side in pain, “But I’d very much like a drink. Or five.”  

“Trevor!” The robed woman scolds.  

“What?”  

You smile at the three of them, feeling beyond blessed that your love has found such wonderful new friends.  

When you had first fallen for Adrian, you assumed your family would consist solely of him, his mother, and his father, that you’d spend the rest of your days learning medicine in a little cottage nestled in Lupu. That simple life was to be yours. But now, it’s all changed. And Alucard is all that remains of that family you once loved.  

You gaze out into the forest beyond the castle grounds, closing your eyes and sighing as you feel the morning’s sun on your face.  

Yes, it was true Mrs. and Mr. Tepes were gone.

It was true that the old Adrian could never come back.

But if you had to choose a new life, a life here amongst a gorgeous castle, with your former lover and his two new friends, well… you doubted you could pick a better one than that.  

A/N 2.0: WHY DID THIS TAKE ME SO LOOOONG? Who knows? Anyway, it’s here now. And hey— did you pay close attention to the symbols in the dividers? Go ahead and look back if you didn’t, just a silly little fun symbolism storytelling. Oh, also, I will finally be updating The Queue List to reflect all the asks I’ve since answered and posted to not confuse people checking on the status of their ask/new readers.

If you liked reading this, please REBLOG! Likes are great but reblogs spread my work much further. 

If you really, really liked reading this, Consider Buying Me a Coffee <3. 

[pygmi-cygni]

clever boy - MK x GN!reader

reader gender is not described could be literally anything. inspired by this post that made me giggle for ten minutes

sfw, no risky content, just silly cuteness. jake isn't mentioned sorry lockley stans but maybe I'll do another version w him <3

Steven and Marc, Marc and Steven. The two of them, peas in a pod. Keeping each other company in Steven's tiny flat.

Until, you.

You'd caught both their eyes, really, but Steven called dibs because he was fronting when you'd met. Though, Marc argued, he was feeding the poor guy lines because he was blushing so hard he couldn't think straight.

From the first day, Steven wanted to jump the gun and tell you how pretty you were and invite you over forever and gush and gush but no. Marc was patient, reminding him to breathe, to take his time. They were in this together, and he didn't want his hope for your affection to be crushed by his headmate's eagerness.

So Steven sat back, hands wringing his sleeves and a stupid smile smarting his cheeks. You thought he was the sweetest thing you'd ever seen. His sass made you keel over laughing, listening to his funny recounts of ignorant customers or mishaps on the bus.

He was sweet and pretty and so, so clever.

Which is what first planted the seed of doubt that he didn't like you the way you liked him. Steven, as much as he stuttered, was sharp as a tack. He loved puzzles and trivia and escape room games (though the real thing made his hair stand on end). You thought for sure he'd sniff you out in an instant; your growing crush wasn't discreet.

But he never mentioned it, never made a move, nothing. Marc, whom you'd met a few weeks later, was also very smart. He liked deeper conversations, and his warm gaze would be intensely focused on whatever subject you'd picked. Surely, if Steven missed your hints, Marc would give him a wink and a nudge and bam, game on.

Still, nothing but platonic smiles.

Little did you know, a tug of war was raging in your friend's mind the second you left his flat.

The three of you shared a wall, so Marc ensured his whisper-fights with Steven stayed quiet.

"Too soon," Marc hissed into the kitchen mirror. It was small and round, and you had left a little sticky note with a smiley face on it for them to see in the morning.

Steven was tearing his hair out in the small frame, eyes round and watery. Mate, I've never had this much courage to do anything in my life, you know that, please, it can't be that bad!

Marc gritted his teeth. Naive little Steven.

"What if you scare them off, huh? We've known them for a month and you think they'll jump in just like that?"

Steven paused his worrying, realizing for the first time the kind of fallout that might occur. His cow eyes saddened, imagining the empty space that would replace you, if you didn't reciprocate. He couldn't live with that.

"Just a bit longer," Marc sighed, rubbing his face. He needed to sleep. Steven continued to fume, for once at odds with his best friend.

You'd noticed his distance. Steven, always happy to see you, had withdrawn. He waved quietly in the morning, and mumbled a good night when you passed his door. It stung. Marc was stoic as ever, but his jaw was tighter and he didn't look you in the eye.

Something was wrong.

So, like any good friend would, you picked up takeout and a few movies and knocked on Steven's door.

It took a few moments, but your favorite mop of curls soon peeked out from behind the frame.

"Oh, erm, uh, heya, sorry, did we plan something? I, um," Steven still didn't look you in the eye, fumbling with the latch as he stuttered through an apology. You stepped forward and touched his shoulder.

Smiling what you hoped was gently, you eased his worry. "I just wanted to say hi. I brought snacks," you said, holding up the warm bag of food.

Still nervous, Steven nodded and beckoned you inside.

Bollocks, he griped. Marc was having a conniption, trying to come up with a reason to push you back out. It's raining, Steven pleaded, and we haven't hung out for ages and Thai smells really good and they've got that cute sweater on-

That's the problem, Marc tossed back, you'll trip all over yourself like a fool. Lemme front-

Steven had to bite his lip to stop from yelling his dissent. He'd been pestering Marc to invite you over for days, now was his chance.

You were dividing the curry and rice into equal portions while he poked through the movies and games you'd brought. There were a couple of his favorites, Clue, James Bond (The originals, of course) and some he didn't recognize.

"Hey, what's this?" He grabbed a small box and peered at it. You paused your chopsticks and leaned over.

"Oh," you said around a mouthful of rice, "I dunno, Rachel from work recommended it." You picked at your food as he flipped it over to read the back.

20 Questions, it was titled. Forty different cards, each with a subject. One person had the subject and the other had to guess what it was in twenty questions or less. Only three hints allowed and nothing made-up.

"Let's do it," Steven decided. He enjoyed a challenge and if it meant he could hear your lovely voice, he wasn't complaining. Marc had fallen silent, taking to brooding in the background. Probably for the best - he wasn't very good at puzzles.

You wiped your hands on a napkin and took the first card.

"A classic movie," you read. Steven rocked on his heels for a moment, fiddling with his plate.

"Got it," he said.

You knew what to start with. Steven loved classic movies, but none of the scary ones. Probably something historical.

"Does it take place in the last fifty years?"

He nodded, chewing. One.

"Does it have a female protagonist?" Two.

He shook his head gleefully. That familiar Steven sparkle was back, and it eased the worry in your head. He wasn't so off, then. Maybe just a bad week.

"Does the man have a whip?" You were grinning, sure you'd got it. Steven's lips twitched - he knew he'd been found out.

It took only two more questions for you to guess Indiana Jones, to his shock. You blamed it on luck rather than the adorable predictability of your friend.

Steven's turn next, and it took him halfway to guess "Fondue" at Favorite food. You went back and forth, giggling at each other on the floor of his rainy flat. Steven protested when you argued that he couldn't use himself for Favorite Superhero.

"I am a hero," he wheedled, gesturing to the Moon Knight stuffie you'd got him as a joke.

"Yeah, but you can't guess yourself," you argued. Nowhere in the rules did it say that, but it felt good to have your bickering sessions. You'd missed this - bantering over stupid issues with tummies full of food and a fun game to play.

Steven blushed when you mentioned it. "Sorry," he mumbled, scratching the back of his neck. "I got busy, 'n Marc was being pissy 'cause - yeah you were, don't be a knob," he muttered to himself. Your grin twitched at the mention of your other friend.

"How is Marc?"

He swallowed thickly. "Uhm...he's, uh, he's swell. Hang on, sorry-" There was a pause as he flickered between scowling and mumbling.

You ignored his stuttering and resumed eating. He needed space at the moment; Marc was probably arguing over something. You didn't want to make them uncomfortable.

"Sorry," Steven said sheepishly. "My turn, yeah?"

Setting down your empty plate, you nodded. Flipping a card, you saw alarm flash across his face. You laughed nervously.

"What?"

He swallowed and smiled nervously. "Nothing, nothing. Ah, I guess, we can skip it if you want...?"

You snatched the card and froze. Longtime Crush.

Fuck. Stay calm, this will be fine. A door of opportunity glowed in your mind, and you smiled.

"No. Let's do it."

Steven, still wary, nodded and tried to push away the intense shame inside. This was going to crush him. He could feel Marc's annoyance through the barrier. Told you so. Not wanting to ruin your game, he soldiered on.

"Is...are they...a man?" You nodded, eyes glittering. God this was worse than torture.

"Have you known him very long?"

You thought about it. "Yeah, I guess. Feels like forever." Great, you'd had a childhood crush all along. He never stood a chance. Marc was burying his head in his hands. Steven wanted to push him to the front so he could have a good cry, but he needed to face it. His fault you were here anyway.

"Do you see him at work?"

"N....Sometimes," you added. He scrunched his nose.

"Whaddya mean sometimes? Either you do or you-"

"Next question," you laughed. Steven wracked his brain.

"Oh, bugger, uh...." he didn't want to pry, but he couldn't think of anything.

"Need a hint?" You were on the verge of cackling. Grumpily, he shook his head.

"Does he live nearby?"

"Definitely."

He pursed his lips, thinking of your small social circle. Your work was a tiny office, there had to be a few guys that he knew.

"Does...Is he friends with our friends?"

You nodded. "He's very close."

He had to be missing something. "Fine, gimme a hint."

"Well," you began, smile stretching to the moon, "he's very clever. He'd like this game, I think. He likes to laugh, but he can be quite serious too." Ignoring the fact that you'd given him two hints, Steven's heart wilted as he noticed the starry look in your eyes. Whoever this guy was, he was a lucky chap.

Marc was miserable, gloominess radiating. Steven felt awful, he hadn't meant for this to go so poorly. Just get through the questions, Marc grumbled.

"Where does he work?"

You tapped your chin. "Well...he's got two jobs."

His eyebrows raised. "Busy fella, huh?"

"Yeah." Your lips quirked. "Almost seems like he's two people."

"What's his jobs, then?"

"Let's see...it's very unconventional," you said slowly, a cute smile on your face, "Sorta self-employed."

Steven cocked his head at the confusing answer. Self employed? That's not really a second job. Marc shrugged. We're kinda self employed, so it could be.

It was strange how many similarities he found between himself and this mystery man.

"I'll give you a hint," you said after the moment dragged. Steven vehemently shook his head.

"No, I've got it, swear."

You giggled. "it won't count, promise. He's got a pet fish."

Steven threw up his hands in exasperation. "How've I never met this man?! We sound almost identical, I'm sure I'd remember him!"

You were bent over laughing now. He sat there, bewildered, while Marc watched with growing understanding.

Steven, he hissed. Steven, hang on.

Stop being a spoilsport, I know you're mad, Steven retorted, too invested in the game.

"Marc's met him," you said between fits, tears streaking your cheeks. Marc opened his mouth again but Steven waved him away.

"Nuh uh, I can do this," he said determinedly. STEVEN! Marc was shouting now, thumping his hands in vain.

You'd stopped laughing, grinning like a loon while you waited. He'd get it now, surely, you hoped, the fading laughter revealing your anxiety.

Steven had short-circuited, eyes flicking around like a pinball machine.

"You're clever," you murmured, "you'll get it."

He snapped out of it and raked a hand through his messy curls. "Hang on, hang on, what? This doesn't- how can he be friends with our friends when the only man friend you've got is me?" He was genuinely perplexed, triggering a sympathetic smile from you.

Marc was in fits now, and Steven was getting a headache. Oi, Marc, chill out a bit, yeah? I'm trying to-

Steven for once in your life listen this is important oh my God-

"What?" he relented, mouthing sorry at you. Marc heaved a breath and closed his eyes.

You. Us. Steven, it's so obvious.

Steven rolled his eyes. "Me? You've lost it, mate, really, you've gone mad."

He froze, clapping a hand over his mouth. "Oh my days, sorry, I didn't mean to guess so soon, sorry-"

You did nothing but grin, leaning closer. "Clever boy," you whispered, then pressed your lips to his.

Marc fainted.

Steven, sweet man, had frozen, too preoccupied with his internal screaming do understand what was happening.

Oh.

oh.

His hands found their way to your cheeks and he giggled, the sweet sound muffled against your lips. It was clunky and off-centered, but it was real and he was laughing and every insecurity he'd ever had vanished in a puff of smoke.

You pulled back for a breath, but Steven hadn't finished, chasing after you with a huff. Marc, finally back online, was sitting in a lovesick stupor. Your lips were soft and your hands were rubbing soothingly down his back. A quiet solitude had blanketed the flat, now dark. Steven leaned his head on your shoulder and you hugged him tight, smiling into his neck. The two of you breathed together, winding down from the excitement of your game.

Once you'd sufficiently relaxed, you pulled away and were met with Marc's twinkling gaze.

"Y'know, I was the one that gave Steven the head's up, so I think I-"

"C'mere you," You huffed, peppering his cheeks in light pecks. He preened, taking a heavy sigh of relief. Marc leaned in and captured your lips, licking gently into your mouth. He'd definitely had more practice, and your heart sang with joy.

Game over, plates empty and hearts full, you curled up and watched the rain pitter-patter in the warm comfort of your home.

yes i think steven loves james bond. he is the type to try and figure out the mystery along with the movie. also 100% knows all cinema trivia Ever To Exist. Marc hates it.

xox thank uuuu

part 2

[kckt88]

You & Me.

Summary:

In an effort to cheer Aemond up after his break up with Y.N, Aegon drags him to a night club to drown his sorrows and his night ends up far better than he anticpated.

Warning(s): Discussion of Break Up, Alcohol Consumption, Mild Violence, Swearing, Drama, Mildly Jealous Aemond, Kissing, Smut, FIngering, P in V, Public Sex,

AEMOND x Y.N

Word Count: 4741

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated, do not copy/post to other sights without my permission.

Tag List - @jasminecosmic99 @kaelatargaryen @yesterdayfeelings-blog @immyowndefender @0eessirk8 @darylandbethfanforever9 @killua2dot0 @msassenach @xcharlottemikaelsonx @moonnicole

The neon lights outside the nightclub cast an eerie glow on the cobblestone streets as Aemond begrudgingly followed his older brother, Aegon, into the thumping heart of King's Landing's nightlife.

“Aegon, I don’t know why you thought this was a good idea,” Aemond muttered, his voice drowned out by the pulsating beats that greeted them as they entered.

He adjusted the collar of his black jacket, his sharp features etched with the stoic expression he had perfected over years of hiding emotions behind a lawyer's mask.

His singular eye, darted around the room, already regretting his decision to let Aegon drag him out here.

“Come on, little brother, you need this,” Aegon responded with a grin, his tone far too cheerful for Aemond's current mood. He clapped a hand on Aemond's shoulder, steering him toward the bar. “A few drinks, a few dances, and you’ll forget all about-what was her name again?”

Aemond shot him a cold glare. “Y.N. Don’t piss me off-I’m not in the mood”

Aegon rolled his eyes, waving down the bartender. “Right, right. Y.N. The one who threw a book at your head and kicked you out.”

Aemond’s jaw tightened, and he looked away, unable to meet his brother's amused gaze. The memory was still too fresh, too raw.

The fight had been the culmination of months of tension—tension that he hadn’t realized had built up until it exploded in his face.

He was good at his job, damn good. Targaryen Inc. relied on him to keep their clients out of trouble, to ensure the company’s interests were protected against the world of opportunists.

But being good at his job had come at a price.

The late nights at the office, the missed dinners and date nights, and the empty promises that he’d be home on time for once.

He had let work consume him, believing that it was the best way to secure the future. But in doing so, he had neglected the present—the moments that mattered most to Y.N.

He could still see the hurt in her eyes when he had stumbled into their apartment late yet again, only to be met with a cold silence that said more than words ever could.

And he had forgotten her birthday.

The realization had hit him like a punch to the gut. He had come home with nothing but exhaustion and apologies, only to see the candles on the table, half-burned and the food she’d cooked left cold and forgotten, her expression one of resigned disappointment.

It had been the final straw for her, and in a fit of rage and heartbreak, she had thrown a book at him—a heavy hardcover that had caught him off guard, leaving a stinging bruise on his temple.

“I’m done, Aemond,” she had said, her voice trembling with the effort to hold back tears. “I can’t do this anymore. I’m tired of being second to your work. Just-go. Get out.”

And so, he had left, with nothing but the clothes on his back and a duffel bag hastily packed with essentials.

He had shown up on Aegon’s doorstep, his pride shattered, his heart in pieces.

“Two shots of Dragonfire, please,” Aegon ordered, snapping Aemond out of his thoughts. The bartender, a young woman with red hair, nodded and set to work.

Aemond leaned against the bar, feeling the weight of his exhaustion settling in his bones.

“I don’t need this,” Aemond muttered, but Aegon shook his head, pushing one of the fiery red shots into his hand.

“You do. Trust me, bro. One night of fun won’t kill you.”

Aemond hesitated, staring down at the glass in his hand. The liquid inside swirled, reminding him of the fire that had always burned inside him, the drive to succeed, to prove himself worthy of the Targaryen name.

But that fire had also driven him away from the one person who had seen him for who he truly was, not just the ambitious lawyer, not just the son of Viserys Targaryen.

With a deep breath, he downed the shot, feeling the burn of the alcohol as it slid down his throat.

It was a distraction, nothing more, but maybe Aegon was right. Maybe he needed to forget, just for tonight.

“Fine,” Aemond conceded, setting the empty glass down with a clink. “But don’t expect me to dance.”

Aegon laughed, clapping him on the back. “No promises, little brother. No promises.”

As the night wore on, Aemond tried to lose himself in the chaos of the club, in the thrumming music, the swirling lights, and the meaningless conversations that surrounded him.

But no matter how many drinks he had, no matter how many times Aegon tried to coax a smile out of him, he couldn’t shake the image of Y.N from his mind. Her smile, her laugh, the way she used to look at him like he was the only person in the world that mattered.

He knew he had lost her. And no amount of Dragonfire could numb that pain.

The nightclub was a blur of flashing lights and pounding music, but Aemond could hardly focus on anything beyond the gnawing emptiness inside him. He sat at the bar, nursing a drink, his thoughts inevitably drifting back to Y.N.

Despite Aegon’s best efforts to distract him, nothing seemed to penetrate the fog of regret clouding his mind.

Aegon, sensing his brother’s brooding silence, sidled up to him with a mischievous grin. “You know,” he began, leaning in close so Aemond could hear him over the music, “-the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else.”

Aemond shot him a sidelong glance, his expression unamused. “Not happening, Aegon.”

“Come on!” Aegon laughed, giving him a playful nudge. “There are plenty of girls here tonight, you could have any one of them. And trust me, they can give you exactly what Y.N did-.”

Aemond stiffened at the mention of Y.N’s name, his grip tightening on his glass. “There’s no one like her.”

Aegon rolled his eyes, exasperated by his brother’s stubbornness. “Surely she can’t be that-you know-good.”

Aemond’s gaze turned distant, his voice quiet but resolute. “She’s better than good. And I messed it all up. I love her so much, and I was too blind to see what I had until it was too late.”

For a moment, Aegon didn’t know what to say. The cocky smirk he usually wore slipped away, replaced by something softer, more understanding. He sighed, signalling the bartender for another round.

When the drinks arrived, he pushed one towards Aemond and gently patted him on the shoulder.

“Hey, you’re not the first guy to screw things up,” Aegon said, his tone more serious than usual. “But that doesn’t mean it’s the end. You know, maybe-maybe if you talk to her, like really talk to her, you can work things out.”

Aemond stared down at his drink, the liquid inside rippling slightly as his fingers tapped the glass. “Maybe,” he murmured, though he wasn’t sure if he believed it.

The weight of his mistakes felt too heavy, the distance between him and Y.N too vast to bridge.

Aegon, sensing that the conversation was hitting too close to home, tried to lighten the mood again. “Or, you could take my advice and find a nice girl to fuck. You never know, it might help.”

Aemond shook his head with a faint smile, appreciating his brother’s efforts even if he couldn’t take the advice. “Thanks, Aegon. But I think I’ll just stick to the drinks tonight.”

Aegon chuckled, clinking his glass against Aemond’s. “Suit yourself, bro. But just remember, I’m here for you-”

Aemond managed a small smile, grateful for his brother’s support, even if the pain of losing Y.N was still too fresh to fully let go.

He took a sip of his drink, the burn of the alcohol a temporary distraction from the ache in his heart, and for the first time that night, he allowed himself to hope that maybe, just maybe, things could still be fixed.

Aemond sat at the bar, his fingers drumming restlessly on the countertop. The loud music and the constant buzz of conversation did little to drown out the thoughts racing through his mind.

He glanced at his watch, the hands creeping towards eleven, and sighed. “I think I’m gonna head home, Aegon. I’ve had enough for tonight.”

Aegon, who was on his sixth drink and showing no signs of slowing down, looked at his younger brother with a mix of disbelief and irritation. “Come on, Aemond, it’s way too early to call it a night! Stay, have a few more drinks. Just another hour at most.”

Aemond shook his head, about to insist when he noticed Aegon’s expression shift. His brother’s eyes widened, “Oh fuck-”

Aemond frowned, his heart skipping a beat. “What?”

Aegon didn’t respond immediately, instead staring out at the dance floor with a mix of surprise and something close to dread.

Aemond followed his gaze, and when he saw what—or rather, who—Aegon was looking at, his blood ran cold.

There, in the centre of the dance floor, was Y.N. She was moving gracefully to the music, her long hair swaying as she danced.

But it wasn’t just Y.N that Aemond noticed; it was the man beside her, far too close for comfort. The man leaned in, whispering something into her ear, and Aemond’s heart pounded with a mix of fury and jealousy as Y.N laughed-a laugh that used to belong to him.

Aegon leaned in, his voice low as he muttered, “I think that’s Cregan Stark”

Aemond barely heard him, his entire focus locked on the scene unfolding before him. “Who?” he asked, his voice strained.

“One of Jace’s friends,” Aegon explained quickly. “I’ve seen him in passing a couple of times. He’s usually up North, but-” Aegon trailed off, realizing Aemond wasn’t really listening anymore.

Aemond’s jaw clenched as he watched Cregan whisper something else to Y.N, and she smiled at him—his smile.

The same one she used to give him when they were still happy. When he saw Cregan’s hand slide down to rest on Y.N’s waist, something inside Aemond snapped.

Aegon’s eyes widened as he saw the change in his brother’s demeanour. “Oh, for fuck sake” he muttered, but it was too late.

Aemond was already on the move, his fury propelling him forward as he barged through the crowd, shoving people out of his way as he made a beeline for Y.N and Cregan.

Y.N gasped in surprise when she saw him, her eyes widening as he approached. “Aemond, what—”

But before she could finish, Aemond grabbed hold of Cregan and shoved him away from her.

“What the hell is your problem?” Cregan demanded, his tone sharp.

“YOU!” Aemond hissed, his gaze burning with anger. “You’re my problem, putting your hands all over my girl.”

Y.N’s expression shifted from shock to anger, and she pulled away from Aemond, her voice cutting through the tension. “I’m not your girl anymore, Aemond.”

Cregan took a step towards Y.N, but Aemond shoved him away again, his voice dangerously low. “Do not take one more step.”

Cregan squared his shoulders, clearly not backing down. “Or else what?”

Aegon appeared beside them, “Or else you’ll get the shit kicked out of you,” he said, his tone light but with a serious edge. “So, I suggest you move on.”

Cregan scoffed, his eyes narrowing at Aemond before he finally backed off, walking away and leaving Y.N standing there, fuming.

She rounded on Aemond, her voice filled with hurt and anger. “How could you?”

Aemond didn’t get a chance to respond before she stormed off, pushing her way through the crowd.

Aemond stood there for a moment, his heart pounding in his chest, before glancing at Aegon. But Aegon’s attention had already shifted to a brunette girl smiling at him from across the room.

Aemond sighed, realizing he was on his own.

Determined not to let Y.N leave like this, he followed her, weaving through the crowd until he spotted her lingering near a staff entrance.

“Y.N, wait!” he called out, but she didn’t stop. He quickened his pace, finally catching up to her and grabbing her arm, his grip firm but not harsh. “Just-let me talk to you.”

Y.N shrugged him off, her voice cold. “There’s nothing to talk about, Aemond.”

But Aemond wasn’t about to let it go that easily. He reached for her again, this time more forcefully, and pushed her through the door into the staff entrance, closing it behind them.

The noise of the club was muted now, leaving them in a tense, charged silence.

Aemond’s heart raced as he looked at her, his mind swirling with everything he wanted to say, everything he needed to say. But the anger in her eyes, the hurt that still lingered there, made the words stick in his throat.

“Y.N-” he began, his voice thick with emotion, unsure of where to start but knowing he couldn’t let her walk away—not like this.

Y.N crossed her arms, her eyes blazing with a mix of anger and hurt as she looked at Aemond. “So, you can find time to go drinking with your brother, but you couldn’t find the time for me?”

Aemond’s expression tightened, a flicker of guilt crossing his face. “-That tends to happen when I have to take time off work because the love of my life ends our relationship.”

Y.N’s jaw clenched, and she shot back with cutting precision, “And whose fault is that?”

The question hung in the air like a blade between them, sharp and unforgiving.

Aemond opened his mouth to respond, but Y.N wasn’t finished. The dam of her emotions had burst, and everything she had held back for so long came flooding out.

“Do you have any idea how embarrassing it was to be left waiting in that restaurant on our anniversary?” she demanded, her voice trembling. “To be sat alone at the table, dressed up, and have everyone staring at me like I was some pathetic fool? No, you don’t. You don’t have a clue.”

Aemond’s heart sank, but he remained silent, his gaze fixed on her as she continued.

“Do you have any idea how excited I was on Valentine’s Day?” Y.N’s voice cracked, tears welling in her eyes. “When you promised me that you’d be home, so I cooked your favourite meal, I did my hair and makeup, and put on a dress I thought you’d like, hoping for just one night where it felt like you cared, to have you make love to me, only for you to come home late and not even acknowledge the effort I’d made. You just brushed past me like I wasn’t even there. No, you don’t know.”

Aemond’s throat tightened as he listened, the weight of her words pressing down on him, suffocating him with guilt and regret.

“Do you know how many nights I cried myself to sleep?” Y.N’s voice broke as tears spilled down her cheeks. “Wishing that you would pay attention to me instead of your work? No, you don’t. You were always too busy, too distracted. I’ve been alone in this relationship, Aemond. It hurt me every time you broke a promise, every time you chose work over me. That you would rather stick your neck out for complete strangers than pay attention to me.”

She wiped at her tears, her hands shaking. “I love you so much, Aemond. But it hurts that you don’t feel the same.”

“I do feel the same,” Aemond said, his voice hoarse with desperation. “I love you, Y.N. More than anything.”

Y.N shook her head, her expression filled with a mixture of sorrow and disbelief. “If you did, then we wouldn’t be where we are now.”

Aemond’s heart pounded in his chest as he tried to find the right words, but nothing seemed adequate. Y.N looked at him, her eyes filled with a deep longing and a sadness that cut him to the core.

“I want to be a wife, Aemond,” she said softly, her voice thick with emotion. “I long to be a mother. But how can I have that with you when you’re never around? I’ve spent too much time listening out for the door, watching the clock, checking my phone for missed calls or texts that never came. I just can’t do it anymore.”

Y.N turned to walk away, her heart breaking as she did. But Aemond, driven by a sudden surge of panic, grabbed hold of her arm, refusing to let her go. “Y.N, please. I love you. I can’t cope without you. You’re everything to me. Don’t walk away.”

“Let me go, Aemond,” Y.N pleaded, her voice trembling with a mixture of fear and heartache.

But Aemond couldn’t—wouldn’t—let her go. “I love you,” he repeated, his voice a desperate whisper as he pulled her closer, pressing her against the wall. His hand cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing away her tears as he leaned in, his breath warm against her skin. “I love you, Y.N. I need you-I’ll do whatever it takes”

And then, before she could say anything else, before she could pull away, he kissed her. It was a kiss filled with all the passion, the regret, the longing he had kept bottled up for so long.

It was a kiss that begged for forgiveness, that pleaded for a second chance. His lips moved against hers, insistent and desperate, as if he could somehow pour all his love and apologies into that single moment.

Then Y.N pushed him away, her hands against his chest, but the heat of his kiss and the intensity of their emotions were overwhelming.

The longing she had tried to bury for so long flared up, impossible to ignore.

She hesitated for a moment, but then the dam broke, and she kissed him back with just as much passion, her arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him close.

"I want you, Y.N. Gods, I want you so much-”

The intensity in his voice sent a shiver down her spine, and she barely had time to react before Aemond pressed her against the wall, his body pinning hers.

The cool surface behind her contrasted with the heat radiating from him as he leaned in, his hands gripping her waist tightly, as if he was afraid she might slip away.

Y.N squeaked in surprise, her breath hitching as she felt the full force of his desire. The closeness, the way his body pressed against hers, was overwhelming.

 Aemond's face was inches from hers, his breath warm against her skin, and she could see the raw need in his eye—need for her, and only her.

“Aemond,” she whispered, her voice trembling with a mixture of emotions she could barely name. She could feel his heart pounding against her chest, matching the rapid beat of her own.

“I can’t lose you,” he murmured, his lips brushing against her ear as he spoke. “-You’re everything to me.”

“W-What are you doing?” exclaimed Y.N

“You’ll see” replied Aemond as his large hand slid into her hair as he pulled her face towards his.

His tongue running over the plump of her lips before sliding into her open mouth.

His hand reached under her dress, his fingers rubbing her pearl over the cotton material of her knickers.

“Already so wet for me” groaned Aemond.

“A-Aemond” breathed Y.N.

“Does it feel good baby?” asked Aemond.

“Oh-Aemond-yes-please” whimpered Y.N as he moved her knickers aside and slid two of his long fingers inside her.

“It’s been so long since I felt you” whispered Aemond as he curled his fingers inside her.

“So long-oh yes” replied Y.N moving her hips in time with Aemond’s fingers.

“Are you going to come already? I can feel you clenching” muttered Aemond, his fingers still moving inside her.

“Yes-Yes. I-I’m going to-” whimpered Y.N

“Only good girls get to come” whispered Aemond as he removed his fingers and then put them in his mouth, his tongue swirling around his fingers, savouring the taste of her.

 “I-I am a good girl. Please-oh please” moaned Y.N as Aemond took her hand and pressed it over the bugle in his jeans.

“That-feels-good” groaned Aemond as Y.N palmed his hard cock, her nails scrapping against the denim fabric of his jeans.

Aemond then watched with a hooded gaze as Y.N removed her hand and then began to unbutton the front of her dress, exposing the lacy bra she wore.

“Such pretty tits” muttered Aemond as Y.N pulled her bra down, revealing her hard rosy nipples.

“Please-” whispered Y.N as she moved her fingers over her nipples, delighting in the way Aemond shuddered as he watched her.

“Y.N-” breathed Aemond as he leaned forward and took a nipple into his mouth, licking and nipping the delicate flesh.

“Oooh-yes-“ muttered Y.N as Aemond reached up to palm her other exposed breast.

“Such a naughty girl” whispered Aemond, as he licked, sucked and marked her skin.

“AEMOND” squealed Y.N. the fabric of her knickers was soaked.

“Your mine-say it-” ordered Aemond.

“I-I’m yours” gasped Y.N rubbing herself against Aemond as he moved from her breasts to her neck, the prickle of his stubble rubbing her skin as he left a series of small hickeys.

“You ready for me baby?” asked Aemond his voice low.

“Yes-” breathed Y.N.

“Hmmm-you know I like it when you act like my naughty girl” replied Aemond as he quickly moved to undo his belt and unbutton his jeans.

“For you-only for you”

Aemond lowered his jeans and boxers enough to free his hard leaking cock and hooked one of Y.N’s legs around his waist.

His other hand grasping the material of Y.N’s knickers and ripping them from her.

He lifted the ruined material to his nose and inhaled, his singular eye rolling back in his head, before he stuffed them in his back pocket.

“Need you-oh” muttered Y.N writhing against him as he wrapped a hand around his cock and began moving it along her wet folds.

“Tell me you want me-“ growled Aemond.

“I want you” exclaimed Y.N. desperately.

“Tell me you need me” whispered Aemond as he sheathed himself inside her.

“I need you-“

“Tell me you love me” muttered Aemond withdrawing and then thrusting forward.

“I-I love you –“ gasped Y.N.

“That’s it-take it-take all of me” groaned Aemond.

“Oh-Oh-Aemond” moaned Y.N.

“You feel so good”

“W-Wait” exclaimed Y.N as she moved her other leg and placed her heeled foot on the stair railing.

“Baby wants it rough tonight” quipped Aemond, one eyebrow raised.

“Yes-fuck me-please” pleaded Y.N as she braced her hands on his shoulders.

Aemond moaned loudly as he dug his fingers into her hips and began fucking her in earnest, his pace unrelenting.

The slap of skin on skin echoing through the empty stairwell.

“My girl-my perfect girl” groaned Aemond, the pressure building in his abdomen as he pounded inside her with a series of deep penetrating thrusts.

“Yes-don’t stop-right there-“ muttered Y.N.

“Never leaving this sweet pussy again-” moaned Aemond his eye looking down at where they were joined and admiring the way his cock was shining with her slick.

“-yes-yes-” muttered Y.N her hips moving frantically in time with Aemond’s his cock reaching deep inside her.

“I can feel you-I know your almost there” groaned Aemond moving his hand so his thumb could encircle her peal.

“AEMOND” screamed Y.N

“Come with me Y.N- come with me” breathed Aemond his pace beginning to falter.

“Yes-” sighed Y.N as her peak exploded, her cunny clenching around Aemond’s cock as he came inside her.

“I love you-I love you so much-marry me Y.N-marry me” babbled Aemond as he kept thrusting gently, his cock still throbbing.

“W-What did you just say?” asked Y.N. her eyes wide.

“I asked you to marry me-“ replied Aemond his face pressed into her neck, his breath tickling her neck.

“D-Do you mean it?” asked Y.N he voice wobbling slightly.

“I do” said Aemond as he moved to look her in the eye.

“That’s my line-” laughed Y.N as she pulled him in for a kiss.

“Wait-does that mean you-you accept?” breathed Aemond.

“Yes-”

“Y-You mean you’ll marry me?” gasped Aemond.

“Yes-yes-yes. I’ll marry you” shrieked Y.N as she kissed him with all the love and passion she could muster.

“I promise to cut back on my hours-no more late nights or missed dinners and special occasions. There’s only us from now on”

“W-What if your work doesn’t like it” muttered Y.N

“They can either accept it or shove the job up their arse. I’m sure there are other firms that would employ me” replied Aemond.

“Oh Aemond” exclaimed Y.N happily as she pulled him in for another kiss, her hands sliding into his long hair and pulling on it slightly.

“Fuck-don’t get me going again. Not here anyway” muttered Aemond as he felt his cock twitch.

“Come home with me” whispered Y.N wincing as Aemond slowly pulled his cock from her.

“Hmmm, I must warn you that I don’t plan on letting you leave our bed tonight” replied Aemond holding onto Y.N as she wobbled slightly.

“Promises-promises” retorted Y.N cheekily as she straightened her bra, pulled her dress down and smoothed out her hair.

With their fingers intertwined, Aemond and Y.N left the stairwell, stepping back into the noisy, thumping atmosphere of the club.

Aemond looked around for his brother, spotting Aegon across the room, wrapped up in a passionate kiss with a red-haired woman. Aemond sighed, half-amused, half-annoyed, and walked over to him.

Tapping Aegon on the shoulder, Aemond waited as his brother pulled away, looking slightly annoyed at the interruption.

But when Aegon saw Aemond’s expression and slightly dishevelled appearance, and he burst into a laugh. “Well, well, someone’s just had a good time.”

Aemond blushed, glancing over at Y.N, who was smiling softly at him. “We’re going back home,” he said, his voice filled with a newfound confidence. “Together.”

Aegon let out a cheer, clapping Aemond on the back. “Thank the gods for that! I love you, brother, but damn, you’ve been annoying lately.”

Aemond scoffed, shaking his head, but before he could respond, Aegon’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “Besides, it’s a good thing you’re heading back with Y.N. I really don’t want to hear you two going at it all night. Might kill my vibe.”

Y.N giggled, shaking her head. “I didn’t know you had a vibe, Aegon.”

Aegon grinned, leaning closer. “You might have experienced it if Aemond hadn’t met you first.”

Aemond growled, his protective instincts flaring up, but Y.N just laughed, wrapping her arm around Aemond’s waist. “I’m glad I met Aemond first,” she said, giving him a soft, loving look.

Aegon chuckled, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. So, are you two okay now?”

Aemond nodded, squeezing Y.N’s hand. “Yes, we still have things to talk about, but-” He paused, looking down at Y.N before turning back to Aegon, his voice steady. “-We’re engaged.”

Aegon’s eyes widened in shock, his mouth dropping open slightly before he broke into a wide grin. “Engaged?!” He let out a loud laugh, clapping Aemond on the back again, harder this time. “Well, I’ll be damned! Congratulations, you two!”

He pulled Y.N into a hug, then did the same with Aemond, his joy evident. “See? I told you coming out with me tonight would be worth it.”

Aemond couldn’t help but smile, nodding in agreement. “I guess you’re right-well were off, I’ll text you in the morning”

“Please don’t-leave it til midday at least. Your not the only one getting his end away tonight” said Aegon smirking.

“Honestly Aegon-” chided Y.N.

“I’ll speak to you tomorrow” said Aemond as Aegon waved his hand and returned his attention to the red head woman, before shouting "I BETTER BE THE BEST MAN"

As they laughed and made their way out of the club, Aemond’s hand remained firmly in Y.N’s, his heart lighter than it had been in months.

For the first time in a long time, he felt a true sense of hope, knowing that they had a future together, one he was determined to make the most of.

[boyprincessarchives]

— ೀ from: your secret admirer [edward nashton x gn!reader]

︶︶︶︶︶⠀୨♡୧⠀︶︶︶︶︶︶⠀୨♡୧⠀︶︶︶︶︶ summary: you're edward's newest penpal! ...unbeknownst to you. set in the riddler year one comics, in the midst of finding and fulfilling his purpose to rid the city of its impurities, edward finds that his biggest hurdle for his plans are the growing thoughts about the corner diner's newest regular. but he cant just come up to you!! maybe notes will have to suffice... contains: edward's usual creepy behavior, light stalking?, he just fantasizes about having a life with you/meeting you i guess, writer is horrible at riddles and attempts to make one word count: 1.5k tags: @nshtn writers note: heres that silly little fic i was talking about a few weeks back. im not sure why i feel more comfortable posting it on my second acc, but here we are! woohoo, its my first fic ever, so i hope you all enjoy some writing from a dyslexic and secondary english speaking writer♡ for that one person that said no, i humbly apologize hehe (ㅅ´ ˘ `)♡

enjoy!! ︶︶︶︶︶⠀୨♡୧⠀︶︶︶︶︶︶⠀୨♡୧⠀︶︶︶︶︶

♡ you two would definitely meet at the diner he frequently visits. during your first visit there, he was sitting in his usual spot, a booth in a forgotten corner, drinking a latte and solving his crossword puzzle. ♡ the diner is usually quite quiet at this hour, and he's frequented it to the point where he recognized the different usuals’ voices. so hearing you speak your order for the first time quickly stuck out at him, like a singular melody in the midst of his crowded mind. he immediately perked up at the sound; not much could really tear him away from whatever puzzle he brought to keep himself company but... you were so… different compared to everyone in this corrupt city. ♡ at first he’d try to brush off your presence, he might never see you again after all. but then you’d come in once a month, then every other week, then multiple times a week. ♡ he'd stare down at his lap, frustrated at himself. what was it about you that made you so different anyway? you were like a nagging habit he couldn't shake, like a stray that came crawling back that his heart couldn’t help but ache to tend to again. he sighed with his eyes shut, submitting to you every time, allowing his thoughts to be consumed by you once more. ♡ he was so lucky... having your closeness grace him. and each time you visited, you only seemed to fill more parts of his mind. at this point, he wasn’t even able to focus on his daily crossword puzzles. it annoyed him to no end but... that’s how he knew you were special. you brought a new light in his usual dark life. ♡ slowly, edward's mind didn't seem to care to search for the answer anymore. he didn't need to know why you were special, now he understood you just were special. he was losing his sense of logic, giving in to your beckoning presence, how good it felt love you. ♡ everyday he’d observe you from his own booth at the diner, now for once glad his spot was usually forgettable. he sipped away at his own cup as he watched and took note of every detail: the way you’d sigh after almost every sip of coffee you took, that polite, yet forced smile you gave to those who passed by, and his favorite detail? the fact that you never visited the diner with anyone else. of course he wasn’t entirely certain if you were single or not but, it made him more confident. like he actually had a chance. ♡ he’d immediately fantasize about the day where he was confident enough to go up to you and speak, figuring out the information he so desperately needed on his own, through your conversations, and not through speculation or crumbs of information he'd overhear through exchanges that didn't belong to him. in his mind he was obviously more confident, no stutters or awkward silences. then you’d go on dates, and maybe you’d see each other outside the diner, just the you two sharing a life together. oh, a man could dream...

♡ after finding and accepting his interest in you, he started frequenting the diner even more, just so he could broaden the possibility of seeing you more often. the time he spent there was practically unhealthy at this point. there was probably remnants of coffee in his lungs from the ungodly amount of hours he’d spend inhaling it secondhand. he would even bring in paperwork instead of his usual crossword puzzle. anything just to be blessed and catch glimpses of you. ♡ sometimes he would see you visit after an extra excruciating day of whatever you did for work. it would break his heart every time, watching you slump into your seat, your long sigh turning into a groan, before treating yourself to a sweet little dessert to drown out the sorrows long enough to at least get yourself home. ♡ he’d get lost in the thought of bringing you home— one you guys actually shared— scooping you up, running you a hot bath and taking you to bed, having you in his arms. he’d wished you didn't work, or at least not this hard. (though he found it quite admirable.) he wished that he could provide for you, so he could never see you this exhausted again. for once in his life he could feel adequate. like a worthy man, somebody's hero. ♡ at times he would feel guilty for borderline stalking you. he knew how you liked your coffee, but he didn’t even know your name! but it wasn't stalking... right? he was just... interested! preparing for the day he'd actually speak. its meant to be flattering... though he would never follow you home, or attempt to find every single piece of information the internet had to offer about you, of course…

♡ ...not yet at least. (thankfully for you, he held back for the sake of researching his newest death contraption.) ♡ but, while sat at that lonely booth, he allowed himself to completely indulge in you. he couldn’t help but stare, you were just so captivating from across the diner, even under the dim lighting it provided, and the late hours you frequented. he just had to know more about you… maybe after this was all over. ♡ you began consuming every part of his life. even outside the diner he would find his mind slipping to thoughts of you. he was starting to miss you. it frustrated him to no end. the color blue would remind him of that sweater you wore a few days back, and that dog he saw at that animal rescue had awfully cute eyes like yours. he even started associating the scent of coffee to your voice, only furthering his desire for caffeine. 'god edward, keep it together.' he'd think. it all led back to you. ♡ you were distracting him from his plans on wiping this city clean. he should be figuring out how to correctly wire this detonator, not fantasize about how soft your skin would feel on his!! but you also began becoming his newfound reason. he knew you were one of the only few good people left in gotham, maybe the hope this dump needed. he wanted you to live in a safe city, he needed you to thrive. you only deserved the best after all, to have the ground you walked on worshipped... ♡ sat in his usual seat, he would begin leaving riddles or crossword puzzles for you to solve, he would even draw doodles of flowers and hearts, instead of his consistent scribblings about batman and the lies of the government. even if he tried, all the riddles he'd come up with would be about you anyway. ♡ edward couldn’t help but stifle a giddy squeal. it felt like he was a teenager again, passing notes to his crush; writing them on the diner’s napkins and placing them in front of you when you looked away, quickly slipping past your line of sight. they would always have to do something with his love and adoration, how he’d reveal himself to you one day. he made them just for you. he even slowed his handwriting so you could read it better. ♡ for now you were endeared. confused, but endeared, while you looked around the room for the napkin's source. they were cute, simple things that gave you something to do, if you looked past the creepy part. it gave you something to think about and look forward to while you try and distract yourself for a little while. ♡ he wondered if you noticed him like he noticed you. he wanted you to notice him. for the first time in his life he wanted to be seen. just for you, he wanted to be somebody.

“ i am with a lock and you might be my key; when you find me, you feel complete. i’m a rare treasure that brings happiness and joy. what am i? ”

♡ and at times he was frustrated at how oblivious you were, but that didn’t deter him away from you or find you any less intelligent as he thought you were. the day you two would properly meet would eventually come. he idolized you, you were his sunshine in all the gloominess of the city. his one bright light. ♡ he would secretly cheer you on from his seat behind you, marveling at just how smart you are. anticipating the amount of time it would take for you to solve everything he had laid out for you, like a rat in a maze. would it take you five minutes? two? or maybe would you take that little napkin home today? ♡ he loved watching you struggle, your eyebrows knotting together as you looked down at the ink on the page. he could barely contain his giggles as you proudly smiled to yourself as you filled out the words of his puzzles. he was just as proud of you as you were of yourself. he knew you could do it.

“ …a soulmate…? ”

♡ you solved his riddles! how were you not perfect for him?

[beneathashadytree]

HEY GUYS! LONG POST HERE, BUT PLEASE READ🙏🏽

I am genuinely appalled by the discourse ongoing in the LNDS fandom these past few days—but above all, I am severely disappointed in what had started out as one of the most inclusive and sweet fandoms I’ve ever been in. I have a few things to say, so in this post I’m trying to put all my thoughts to words. Apologies if I sound harsh, but I’m genuinely livid. Also, please ignore any typos. I’m not wearing my glasses while word-vomiting.

First off, for a fandom that is composed of mostly adults, you guys have been acting terribly childishly. It’s 2024, and yet people are still unironically shaming others for “switching up on their favs” as if a person owes 2D characters any loyalty. Let people enjoy things. The novelty of Sylus and how he’s quite literally 6 months behind the other 3 love interests makes people want to catch up on the enjoyment of him all at once. He’s still such a brand new character and concept, so there’s no wonder everyone’s hyped up over him.

I’ve seen people get genuinely mad at other players and writing whole think-pieces about this. I promise you guys, the company making this game is still benefiting whether you’re pouring your money into Sylus or any one of the previous 3. We’re all happy to have an interesting character pop up among the roster now, and we’re taking our time getting to know him. Doesn’t make any of the first 3 any less loved. I genuinely don’t remember this amount of nastiness when solo events for each of the guys used to drop.

In fact, if the popularity thing is worrying you, going off MLQC (the company’s past game) the character who was last added was—eventually, after the initial hype died down—kicked off to the sidelines in most major events and was given the least content, and was the least favorite of fans.

Secondly, and this has my blood boiling, there is an insane amount of entitlement and rudeness I’ve seen on my timeline concerning how people characterize the men—particularly Rafayel.

Absolutely nothing warrants this shitty attitude towards other creators for how they depict characters in their fics. It seems you guys feel protected behind a screen and think it gives you the right to bully strangers online. Fanfiction is for fantasizing about your favs; for letting your imagination run wild. If this were a character analysis, then yes, maybe I’d agree that inaccuracies are aggravating. However, in fanfiction, there are zero rules, especially when it comes to smut.

Sexual preferences are not equivalent to a person’s whole personality—so whether he’s written as a dom, a sub, a switch, or whatever the fuck you wanna call it, this has nothing to do with his kindness, gentlemanliness, passion, power, ruthlessness, snark, or whatever minuscule aspect of his character makes up his lovely whole and matters to you.

I think this circles back to a lack of ability to separate sexual matters and personality, because how else do people interpret fics depicting him in a certain manner as them erasing his character? They might overlap, but they can very well be mutually exclusive. I’ve seen incredibly sweet and gentle men irl who were absolute doms in bed, and I’ve seen powerful and passionate men who were reduced to tears between the sheets. There is barely any correlation whatsoever, and if anything, claiming otherwise is what I consider piss-poor media literacy and reading-comprehension.

My third point is that for some reason, there have been many, many posts and replies on here where I’ve seen people just straight-up spread pure hate for the characters. Maybe this bothered me in particular because I’m an OT3 (OT4 now!) and absolutely adore all of them, but I find no logical reason for “yucking someone’s yum” when we’re talking about liking the characters of an Otome game—a genre of video games which is made to literally cater to the tastes of as many people as possible.

It’s especially disheartening to see when it’s at a time like this, when new content is about to drop, and you find in the replies of every other post/discussion at least a few people spewing hate and disgust at Sylus. Again, so many people are incredibly excited about him. Why is there a need to rain on everyone’s parade, especially in such an unsolicited manner?

This fandom originally started as a safe space for people of all races, backgrounds, genders, sexualities, and personalities to bond over our mutual love for characters. All I’ve seen on my TL lately (in terms of discussion) is negativity, and it’s such a fucking let-down. I hope whatever the fuck has happened to this fandom cools down after a bit. It’s probably exaggerated and very in-your-face rn, cause more and more people are downloading LNDS, so the probabilities of finding people being nasty are increasing. But I seriously don’t want to grow to resent this fandom and find myself distancing myself from it to protect my peace.

Let’s all remember to be kind towards other players, to not act entitled or bratty about the characters, and to try and mind our own business if we see content that doesn’t suit our tastes.

[justadeadreaper]

My friend says I have to write this as an apology for what I posted yesterday as apparently what I wrote was not fluff but angst as it made a few people cry so I have to make up for it with actual fluff. Now that I have said what I think König would do for you when he goes on a long deployment so that you remember how much he loves you when you miss him how about we now hear what I think he does while on the deployments and then a third post detailing what he does when he finally gets back home. 

Yes, König has an issue with being the cockiest man alive but he has another trait(s) that can be considered a thousand times worse, this is how he is extremely possessive and obsessed with what he considers his. It is why he struggles to be apart from you for so long when he is on his missions for months or years at a time even if he keeps actively choosing them for the rush of adrenaline that has to pump through his veins due to how addicted the military made him to the thrill. As mentioned before, the giant will spend any chance and time he gets to write you letters that normally entail how everything is going before going over how greatly he misses you and would prefer to be in your arms in the luxury of your soft bed compared to the cold, lifeless floors of wherever he is. Normally, he ends all his letters asking how you are and what you have been doing, like asking how your hobbies have been going and if you have been using his card to treat yourself while he is gone. 

If he has signal and is in a safe area where he has no worries about calling or checking his phone you can bet that he will be checking every single security camera he has in the house to see what you are doing without telling you as he just loves to see how you are in your natural habitat even if others would call him a peeping Tom for such actions. Sometimes he will even call you on a second phone to talk to you as he watches what you do, sometimes he loves to be a tease and ask what you are doing and make hints towards what you are doing just so he can see the confused look on your face and ask if he is a mind reader.

Due to his kleptomaniac tendencies from how he grew up with virtually nothing to the point he now needs to have everything he was never able to have when he was a child, he will collect trinkets for you to gift you once he gets back home. These trinkets can virtually be anything he was able to get his large, sticky hands on like the jewellery he scavenges from the corpses of all the enemies he has killed so that he can return home to you as he loves seeing you in anything shiny or objects he just likes the look of that he found when scouting the area which itself ranges from a pretty rock he found in a stream to things he found in a ruined house like ornaments that could be used to decorate your home to things such as spoons or weirdly shaped objects that he just found interesting and thought you would find pretty too or souvenirs or clothes he brought in nearby cities, towns, villages or countries to the area his mission was set in as to share the location with you and as a way to make off another area he has been in and successfully come back alive from or it could be something grimmer that just hits the right spot with his morbid thought process he calls normal such as the bones of enemies or dead animals he found that he will eventually DIY to create something useful or pretty to put around the house (the last time he did such a thing he made you multiple candle holders using the arm and hand bones of enemies as he said it looked so pretty to see the wax drip down the bones onto the platform underneath) or he would bring back the weapons or clothing of the enemies he killed if he thought it was pretty or interesting enough to add to the collection he lets you use to protect yourself with while he is gone or cool enough to add to his many uniforms.

Although, his kleptomaniac tendencies do not just stop at inanimate objects. Quite a few of his subordinates and teammates joke that if you find a stray animal you can not kill it but you have to hide it no matter what situation you are in due to König’s horrible habit of collecting animals he finds like Pokémon cards. If König finds a stray animal in the area or one he finds too interesting it is no longer a stray but his pet no matter what it is even if it is as feral as a dog with rabies. This habit was first discovered by his team when he would keep the interesting enough spiders they asked him to dispose of as he would keep them in containers and feed them whatever bug he found around the area but it never stopped there. It was then reaffirmed once they found him sneaking a pair of rats into his bag since he thought they were too cute as they had the audacity to try and bite a hole through his boot. Over the years it became more apparent with every new animal he gathered and brought home to you or how you would suddenly find a new pet such as the toad that now lives by the small fairy pond he built by the rose bushes as he saved it from his team as Tor thought it was a good idea to use it as target practice. If he finds an animal on the mission that he finds cute or interesting enough you can surely bet that he will bring it home to add to the family since he knows you can not refuse his puppy dog eyes that tug on your heartstrings.

If you speak a language he does not and someone on his team can speak it he will be pestering his team member to teach him, but if he does not he will have taken a few small books for him to learn from when he is restless at night and unable to sleep due to his insomnia just so that when he comes home he will be able to surprise you with knowing some of your language.

And like I have mentioned before, he takes mini journals alongside with him where he will be able to sketch you with details of the scenery around him or he will write poems or thoughts about you just to get his mind off of you so they do not clog his thoughts and distract him which creates the risk of him being too distracted and not being alert enough which ends up with him not having the chance to come home to you which neither of you want to happen. The journals are so sappy and sweet but can sometimes be vulgar with its content, he does not dare show it anyone but you, but that only happens once he is finished and every page is full so he can give it you once he is next deployed.

But in the end, all he is waiting for is for the mission to be over so that he can come back to you alive and well so that he can be in your arms once more and spoil you with all the gifts he brought from the mission and when he got back to say sorry for being gone for so long.

[apollodeath]

Come over.

Summary: you and König have been FWB for a while and he’s back from a 6 month deployment and he wants you over. Now.

A/N: I made this in 2 hours and did not re-read… so, there’s probably mess ups. I apologize. I just wanted to post/write something smut filled. I can’t get König off my mind. So I wanted to just cave and write a one shot of him. Also written to the song “inside friend” by Leon Bridges ft. John Mayer.

MDNI 18+

Warnings/content warnings: size kink, unprotected sex, dirty talk, mentions of wounds/scars from battle. Reader is referred to as You, love and Maus but mentions of pussy and breasts. If I forgot anything I’m so sorry.

Reader = purple

König = green

— ⋆ ⋆ ¤⋆ ⋆—

You sat at work bored scrolling on your phone. Since it was so cold out your shop didn’t get many customers. A text pops up and your eyes flicker to it then back taking a double take.

Your notification reads:

[König 💦]

A text from him surprised you cause last time you heard from him was 6 months ago. When he went on deployment. He was predictable and persistent which is why you liked being his… friend with benefits. His inside friend.

You feel your body heat up when you read his text.

[König 💦]

— hey. you think you could come over?

— I’m back.

You smirk at your phone texting back with the feeling of eagerness building. You hate to admit after König left you kinda just stuck to yourself not really interested in a partner or hooking up. Your hands could satisfy you, not as great as König but they worked.

[König 💦]

— hey. you think you could come over?

— I’m back.

— Hey yeah I can. Same time as before?

You placed your phone away once customers came in.

Time passed slowly now that you had König on your mind. The last time you saw him he was was slow and patient, taking his time to engulf you in his body, to devour slowly, he was moving so slow then, it felt like it took days for him to actually push into you.

You sit on your chair behind the counter feeling your pussy pulse to the thought.

He was fresh out of the shower and he started by simply kissing you. You went home around 5am that day and he went to the airport around the same time. You remember thinking you’d really miss him if he didn’t come back.

A buzz on your phone makes you check and knock your memories away.

[König 💦]

— I’m back.

— Hey yeah I can. Same time as before?

— of course. 7pm.

You go to text back when another text comes in.

[König 💦]

— Hey yeah I can. Same time as before?

— of course. 7pm.

— if you can come more soon faster. that would be best. I need you.

His texts were sometimes out of place. He didn’t know English well enough to text but in person he knows enough. Still his words ‘I need you.’ Literally made you a puddle in your seat.

You look at the time and it reads [3:37pm] you begin to think:

If no one shows up and it hits 4pm you were closing the shop and heading over.the perks of being your own boss. For the first time since opening your own shop you beg the world at this moment that no one comes in.

The world grants your wish and you rush to close up once your clock shows the correct time. You grab your jacket rushing home to shower.

Once you get back on the road to König’s apartment you feel your nervous energy turning to desire and hotness.

You text him:

[König 💦]

— of course. 7pm.

— if you can come more soon faster. that would be best. I need you.

— Omw. I need you too.

You flirt back and smile hearing your phone go off seconds after hitting send.

[König 💦]

— if you can come more soon faster. that would be best. I need you.

— Omw. I need you too.

— god. I’m already getting hard.

You smirk and text back while you’re stopped at a red light.

[König 💦]

best. I need you.

— Omw. I need you too.

—god. I’m already getting hard.

— Aww. I wanted you to get hard in my mouth.

You teased and started driving once again hearing your phone buzz a few times as you pulled up outside the apartment building.

[König 💦]

— god. I’m already getting hard.

— Aww. I wanted you to get hard in my mouth.

— Scheiße

— fuck*

You bit your bottom lip knowing he craved you the way you craved him. You get out of the car and go up to his apartment on the 5th floor. You breath in and out before knocking. You’re surprised at how fast he was to swing open the door. It’s like he was waiting by it. You laugh a little.

“Come in mein süßer Freund” he’s wearing some of his gear-like clothes. His sniper hood on, of course. It’s what peaked your interest when you fist met König in a library one day.

You walk in while König closes the door behind you, slowly looking around you see unpacked luggage by the couch.

“I hope it’s not to warm in here.” His voice makes you turn to look at him, you can tell he’s a little nervous like he used to be when you first met him; his eyes trace you like a feral dogs just smelt another dog in heat.

“It’s been awhile…” you spoke softly trying to break the tension.

“Can we skip that part?” he spoke just as gentle but more his bedroom voice. You knew the difference all too well. You nod in agreement stripping your sweater off exposing your chest to him.

“Welcome home?” You say with a soft blush spreading over your cheeks and chest. König’s apartment was heated perfectly for the winter outside but yet your body still had chills making your nipples rise.

He takes no time walking up to you lifting his hood over his lips locking his with yours, quickly grabbing your chest in both his hands kneading them placing your nipples between his fingers knuckles every knead slightly pitching them.

He was so sloppy and needy with his kisses, his hand movements were almost painful with how needy he is. You didn’t realise your own neediness until now. He made you whimper from these touches. He then wrapped his hands around your waist, pulling you against his hips; through your leggings/sweater you felt his hard cock pressing against your tummy. His height was so dramatic his cock was above your waist it made you smirk and let a little giggle out.

König stopped the kissing to look at you.

“What meine liebe?” He asked slowly unzipping his pants.

“I think I forgot how tall you were.” You giggle a little again. König chuckles.

“I think I forgot how small you were, Maus”

You blush looking away then glancing at his bedroom down the hallway.

“I’ll take you there.” He reached over grabbing you and picking you up over his shoulder like a cave man had just gotten a fresh kill. It made you laugh.

“I think I also forgot how strong you are” you added as a joke. Saying all these ‘I think I forgot’s made him laugh. König placed you on your back on the tall, large bed. When you first came over to his apartment you realized that his bed came off the ground higher than most beds, when you sat on the edge your feet didn’t touch the ground. König looked at you from his standing position at the edge, he stripped his pants down along with his underwear then pulling his shirt off. You laid on your back just watching him. Admiring him. His cock stood curved at attention. He had a new scar you noticed; it was healed but fresher than the others. It looked like a jagged…maybe a bullet wound? On his upper chest almost shoulder. König noticed and shook his head.

“Don’t ask.” He grabbed your ankles pulling you closer to the edge of the bed. You nodded in agreement.

König took your leggings and panties in his hands pulling them down.

“Lift.” He said softly and you lifted your hips helping him pull them off. He breathed in and out taking you in, fully nude, laying on your back with your legs bent exposing yourself to him.

You felt yourself already leaking with excitement. It was the drive that felt like foreplay. He takes his cock in one hand placing the other on your mound placing his thumb softly on your clit swiveling it. His breath is heavy already just at seeing your body’s reactions to his thumb rubbing over your sensitive clit, lifting your hips to his touch, your legs spread more ready to take him whole. He guides his cock into you pushing in just quick enough to stretch you with a slight sting, it’s instantly replaced with pleasure making your head fall back into the bed. He glides in so easy your velvety, wet, warm pussy is sucking him in.

“I think I forgot how wet you get.” He stated through gritted teeth his voice dipped in pleasure. He tried to joke but the moment was all too serious to remember to try and sound like he was joking. He felt his stress melt off his shoulders as his cock twitches in you.

König starts thrusting short, hard patterns only taking his cock out 2 inches at most leaving the leftover 5 inches as he ruts his hips against yours.

His hands grab your hips tightly and you bite your lip hard feeling immense pleasure from this, his cock’s curve is just right to rub on the inside making you moan out his name and anything else that’ll come out.

König is whimpering/grunting at each thrust. His back is curled in. His face is above yours. You take this opportunity to reach out to his face mask suddenly he stops and his hand is around your wrist tightly.

“Don’t.”

“I just wanted.. another kiss…” you try catching your breath from everything. He slightly put fear in you but you understood his own fear of his mask coming off.

He nodded understanding now, he let your wrist go and picked you up pushing you to the center of the bed and crawled on, never disconnecting you two.

König leaned down lifting his mask up placing his hot mouth on yours, kissing you deeply and slipping his tongue in guiding your own tongue around his. He began moving his hips again at a slow pace softly gaining speed. You wrapped your legs around his waist pushing him in deeper and he broke the kiss to place his head between your neck and shoulder to then wrap his arms around you and got a steady position to start jack hammering in you. The bed began to thump the wall and the sound of moans and wet, warm skin colliding over and over filled the room. König’s hot breath on your neck felt like fire in the best ways possible. You arched your back feeling yourself building your climax.

“Tell me… M-Maus did you fantasize about me.” He asked through thrusts his voice shaky from his movements.

“Yes, I did!” You answered honestly on the brink of tears from how good the pleasure felt. How much you missed this. Missed him.

“Did you fuck anyone else?” He asked biting at your neck.

“No. No I-I knew know one could… oh god, fuck me like you.” You scratched at his back holding on to reality as best as you could.

“Good girl, good Maus.” He panted into your ear.

König places his hands once more on your hips steadying you to thrust in at a better angle.

Looking down for a minute watching your two bodies connect with the wet sloshing sound. His eyes are closed as he tries holding back his own orgasm. He looks up with half lidded eyes from under the mask and you can tell he’s just drunk off the feeling. His thrusts are becoming sloppy and twitchy as his legs are trying to lock in a flexed position.

“Cum for me.” You say softly with whimpers. His eyes roll back and head tilts back but he keeps going.

“I-i-…. I..” he can’t remember what the words are in English so he just shakes his head ‘no’

“Nein, ich möchte es noch nicht. Ich will dich mehr ficken” he grunts out even tho you don’t know any German somehow you knew what he wanted.

Translation: No, I don't want it yet. I want to fuck you more

König slows his thrusts to a soft pace sitting up on his knees more. He grabs you pulling you up to sit on his lap. You hiss at the sharp new angle of his cock piercing you. He reads your expression and lift you up slightly and starts to rut his hips up into you. You throw your arms over his shoulders and pull him in as you arch your back making your chest squeeze against him. König takes his arm and latches it around your waist to help lift you up and down his length like his own personal fuck toy; taking his other hand and placing it in your hair softly tugging not to hard just something to grab.

“Just like that” he breaths out.

“I’m gonna cum” you whimper out feeling yourself leaking slowly on to his lap. König can feel your warm liquid trailing down his balls and lap.

“Cum f’me Maus bitte, bitte please cum, cum bitte” he’s begging to feel you pulse on his hard cock. His words alone are enough to make you orgasm, you cling to him as your body shakes and your walls tighten around him. König can feel every squeeze of your walls milking his hard cock, it takes strength not to cum right away but he’s losing the battle.

König grabs your hips and pushes you all the way down his length to sit at his base. Your orgasm made you make a mess on him and the bed underneath. König felt just how feral that made him as he gripped you tighter and starts filling you with his own cum. You look at him and his eyes are shut tight and his grip on you is so tight you swear you can feel both of your heart beats in your body. You whimper some more feeling him inside twitch and pour stream in you.

“That’s it… that’s it König.. cum for me” he opens his eyes catching his breath, nodding yes.

“That-that felt um, uh…” he smiles and shakes his head laughing slightly “uh great? Good? Very good.” He chuckles you nod laughing a little yourself.

He slowly helps you raise off of him and lay back feeling your legs still weak and shaky. He crawls to your side flopping on the bed still catching his breath. You let your eyes close just soaking in the feeling. You feel him roll over then back onto his back.

“It’s only seven thirty…” he whispers. You look over to him and König has his eyes set on you.

“I have all night.” You state.

“I have until next week Tuesday.” He says teasingly. You giggle at him.

“Are you saying you want to cum again?” You tease rolling to your side taking your hand and placing it on his hot chest.

“And again and again…” he adds with a smirk you can hear on his lips. He’s always been a 2 rounds kind of guy. Rarely a 3 rounder.

“Take what you want.” you whisper trailing your hand down his body König stopping you at his waist.

“You said you wanted to feel me get hard in your mouth…”

— ⋆ ⋆ ¤⋆ ⋆—

a/n: I hope it’s good. Sorry about the ending just fading out I had no idea how to end this. I loved writing about König messing up English lol I hope the text portion wasn’t to confusing. Sorry for any typos again.

[runningfrom2am]

cold nights // epilogue

summary: a few years later...

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 3.7k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, depictions of mental illness, also she's is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n:

here it is :) the epilogue :)

(i'm crying, could you tell??) i figured it was time to post this now that we've officially entered the overlapping requiem/michigan cherry era. tbh i was just afraid to let these two go bc i love them so much.

thank you all again SO so much for all the love on this fic. it has truly meant everything to me that so many people came on this actual JOURNEY with me, i never intended this to be so long but here we are.

anyway, stick around for requiem!! and i hope you loved this if you made it this far!!

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // playlist // pinterest board

You were all dressed up in one of your finest gowns, attending the gala that preceded the presidential election.

Coriolanus was running, of course, and you were so incredibly proud. He's worked toward this for years, and you had been there every step of the way since the tenth annual Hunger Games, all those years ago. It felt like a distant memory- albeit one that still haunted you regularly.

You were a whole new person. A Capitol citizen most of the year, and you were happy most of the time. You and Coryo had always gone home in the summers, though, to spend your days surrounded by friends and family under the District Twelve sun. You always looked forward to it, but three months never felt like quite enough time. You missed your old life, but that's all it could be now.

While some Capitol elite was talking your ear off about the upcoming games, that's all you can think about. Well, how after the election that your boyfriend would most certainly win, those summers of peace would be a thing of the past. It was hard to think about, which is why you focussed on how you could work around it. Perhaps you would make smaller visits throughout the year- although Coryo was prepping you for the endless tasks that would even be put onto you as the First Lady of Panem. Once he wins the election, he would propose- and it would be followed by the wedding of the century. You didn't know if you dreaded it or if the pressure of it all just scared you beyond what excitement could repair.

"Miss Y/L/N?" Your train of thought is abruptly interrupted and you hum in response, bringing the champagne glass to your lips, acting like you were paying attention the whole time.

"Yes?" You respond as you lower your glass. "My apologies, I just spaced out for a moment there. It's a big day, after all..." You chuckle to recover, tilting your head slightly at them.

"I was just asking if you had any input in the arena for the next Games, if you could give us any hints." The man asks, seemingly impatient with you getting distracted.

"Oh," You reply, smile fading softly. "No, I- I really try to stay out of all of that." You laugh nervously, gripping tighter onto the glass as you take another sip, relieved when you feel someone's hand on your arm.

"Y/N, come sit. Coriolanus's speech is about to start, he got me to save you a seat at my table." Sejanus says, linking his arm with yours.

You politely excuse yourself from the conversation and allow him to pull you away. "Many thanks." You whisper to him, chuckling slightly as you glance back over your shoulder at the older man you were speaking to. "Some people are so tone-deaf, aren't they?"

"Most definitely." He sighs, shaking his head as he guides you toward his table at the front of the banquet hall, close to the stage. "Apparently that will never change."

Sejanus Plinth was your saving grace all these years, that, however, had never changed. You didn't see him as much anymore, with you being locked up in your office in the Snow penthouse focused on writing book after book until you were burnt out. His role as a doctor in and out of the Districts certainly didn't help either, but you knew he was partial to working back home in Twelve so he could spend more time with Lucy Gray. You were glad he was much more fulfilled in his adult life than you were; you always knew he would do well and you were proud. You had to take moments every so often to remind yourself that when you first met him and Coryo, you had been sad that you wouldn't get to see the men they would become but you had wondered. Now, you had your answers.

"Is that not the truth." You scoff under your breath, smiling and giving a quick wave to a few familiar faces as you pass. You had become somewhat of a people-pleasing expert, the same way Coriolanus had.

You sit down at the table at the front of the room just as the lights slightly dim, and the spotlight hits the stage. You gently cross one leg over the other, careful not to wrinkle your dress and clap in just the perfect polite way you had learned how to over the years, smiling as you see Coryo walk up onto the stage.

He waves, and people whistle and clap, and the smile on his face seems a little more genuine than it normally is during these speeches. Of course, though, this is his final address before he no doubt gets voted in as president, and you know that he is excited.

"Hello, everyone. Thank you so much for coming out tonight..." He says, in a subtle cue to get people to quiet down so he could speak, a drink still in his hand that he delicately hovers above the podium next to him. "This has been such an incredible opportunity for both of us running, and I must say, it's been fun." He tips the glass toward the other table at the front, and your eyes follow the movement to the other candidate, your friend and former classmate, Hilarius Heavensbee. They've never gotten along, and you know Hilarius wants nothing to do with this job. Not really. It makes you sad, a little bit, that his family would push him this far when he had confided in you in his freshman year that it wasn't what he wanted.

The man just gives Coryo a polite but nervous smile, taking another sip out of his own champagne glass. From where you were, you could see his hand trembling. You knew he would have to go next, and Coriolanus Snow was always a tough act to follow.

"Now, I am very happy about this turnout, because I have two important announcements to make." He continues, and whispers fill the room. You look over at Sejanus, a slight look of shock on your face. You didn't know he had anything special to announce, and he always kept you in the loop on everything. Sejanus just shrugs, looking back up at Coryo again. It must not actually be a big deal- it was probably just thanking some more people who have donated to his campaign.

"Firstly," He clears his throat, taking a step to the side as the screen behind him lights up. "For just a moment, see me as your head game maker and forget all about me running for president. Or don't, actually, maybe keep that in mind, but at the back of your mind." He chuckles, the little joke making the audience laugh. He was much more personable now than he once was, you smile a little as you remember helping him write his earlier speeches in a way that would make him more likable. "With the help of my fellow candidate and personal good friend, we are trying something new when it comes to The Hunger Games."

When he speaks, your heart drops and you sit up a little straighter- feeling all eyes on you as you just focus on him. For the first time, he looks down at you and gives you a small smile, the slightest nod in an effort to reassure you that it wasn't as scary as it sounded. You swallow and just keep your smile on as best as you can, ignoring all the stares.

"So, we all love The Games. They're exciting, the stakes are high, and I know every year we all pick our favourite tributes to root for and it's hard to watch them fall but, god, do I know better than anyone how good it feels when they win." Your cheeks burn intensely as Coryo sends a smile and a wink your way, and the screen behind him flashes to a picture of the two of you, taken after your shared university graduation just a couple of years ago. You were both smiling, but he was looking at you as he held you tight around your waist, and you looked into the camera and held up a three-finger salute. People are laughing and awe-ing at the photo of the two of you, and you laugh nervously, looking over at Sejanus with slightly panicked eyes.

You would be absolutely fine with this if he had just run it by you before, and you knew that whether you liked it or not, the Games were an integral part of who you were now, and always would be- but you certainly didn't want your name on anything to do with these new changes they're making. But, he wouldn't be talking about you at all if he knew you would hate it. You had to remind yourself of that.

"So, you all know my beautiful Y/N, of course, we're all big fans of hers here," Coryo says, gesturing to where you were sitting and you let out a nervous laugh, shaking your head at him in a way that would appear teasing to everyone else while he waits for everyone to finish clapping for you. "Don't get embarrassed already, darling, I've got a bit more to say about you so just sit tight, okay? Nothing bad, I promise." He says to you, looking into your eyes even as he stands up on the stage, everyone's laughter echoing in the background.

"So, I have known Y/N and her outstanding mind for years now. The Games are what brought us together when we were both just kids, but you all already know that story so I'll spare you the details. The bottom line is, I am so proud of the woman she has become. She's written two books that will soon become three, she graduated in the top three percent of our class with only a District education to build on, and she is the single most well-spoken, well-mannered, beautiful, and caring woman I have ever met. Truly, she has changed my entire outlook on life." He says, talking more so to the audience than to you, knowing that you're so embarrassed by this. And he would be correct. "It has truly been a privilege to know her, and to love her."

"But that was a long journey for us both, and a seemingly endless uphill battle for her recovery, despite her strength. The Games can be scary, let's be totally honest. It's life or death, and winning will change you, but Y/N came out the other side and wanted to make a difference for her family and that inspired me. And she continues to inspire me every day." Coryo says, pausing to take a sip of his champagne again. "So, all of this is to say, I'd like to thank her for all her support through my education, this campaign, and through the life we're building together. She inspired this idea in me and with the help of my fellow game makers as well as the Plinth family..." You look over at Sejanus as he continues, suddenly realizing he must have known about what was happening. He keeps a small smile on his lips as he watches, refusing to make eye contact with you.

"This," Coryo says, turning to look up at the screen while a picture comes up of a small cul-de-sac of beautiful homes. "Is just the beginning of the Victor's Rehabilitation Initiative."

You tilt your head, a shocked and confused smile on your face as you take in the photo and try to decipher what he's talking about.

"So, recently, Y/N has been more open with everyone about the struggles that came with being crowned a victor in our Games. Yes, they get to walk away with their lives, but what if winning meant something more? What if it meant security for them and their families, so they're not returning to their Districts with no sense of what to do next? That, everyone, is what this program is for. To help the strongest of them find a purpose again, and to encourage the bravest of Panem's children to get back on their feet after such an impressive feat as winning the Games."

You have to very consciously force your jaw to stay shut when you realize what he is saying, clapping along with everyone else while your smile relaxes into something more genuine. You knew that he wanted to abolish the Games altogether, and you knew that no matter who won the election, they wouldn't proceed for much longer. This was the first step in that direction, and you were flooded with emotions. Pride, excitement, relief.

"For ten years, until the beginning of the mentorship program, our victors were cast aside. Never to be heard from again after their win, I, for one, became curious as to what happened to them after the Games as soon as I met Y/N, and I have heard that question from many of you as well since we were all given the pleasure of getting to know her." Coryo's smile is one of pride and excitement, sparing a glance at you as he allows the audience to have their responses. So far, all seemingly positive despite the present undertones of him caring about the people in the Districts. He was a smooth talker, he knew exactly how to command a space and get people to believe what he wanted. And he was using it for good. "I mean, how many other victors have something extraordinary, just like her, that won't be utilized or nurtured? We never knew."

"From now on," He continues, the crowd quieting down. "Our victors will be given homes in what we've decided to call Victor's Villages in each of the Twelve Districts. They'll have ensured security for themselves and their families, and a generous sum of prize money to help them with whatever they need. Whether that's medical attention, both physical and emotional, or, if they so choose, when they reach the appropriate age, they could apply at our university to further their education. Though, between you and I, admittance is not guaranteed." He winks at the end and it's accompanied by laughter, which you try and go along with, but you're too close to tears to even process fully what was going on. This was a huge step in the right direction, even if like he said, acceptance was not guaranteed. "What I mean, is that it will be up to them. They can live their lives to the fullest, just like our gem, Y/N."

He looks at you again, and you can really only see his blurry form through your tears until someone is handing you a handkerchief to dry your eyes while people clap and cheer over the idea.

This was something you couldn't have imagined years ago. This was everything you've wanted since the Games- to make a difference, for people to care. And it was happening right before your eyes. Thanks to him. Thanks to you.

"And with that," Coryo says after a few moments, waiting for the crowd to quiet down after taking in your reaction. "We can move on to my second announcement, which is my formal withdrawal from the presidential campaign."

Gasps fill the room and your smile disappears, a hand coming up to your mouth as you look up at him, shocked and confused with the announcement that blindsided even you.

"Are you happy here?" You ask quietly, not wanting to disturb the peace of the evening as you walk from your parent's house back to your own in the Victor's Village.

"I couldn't be happier." Coryo replies through a soft sigh, swinging your hand gently as it's clasped between you.

"Are you sure?" You say again, feeling a little uncertain despite weeks of his endless reassurance that this was, in fact, what he wanted.

To him, this scenario was perfect. He could keep his job as head gamemaker, planning to only return to the Capitol for a few months or so every year for the Games. He knew that wouldn't last much longer, though, not with Hilarius Heavensbee in office. Coryo gives it a few years and a few major "accidental" mistakes on his part for the viewership of the annual event to die out and open the door for the president to call them off, just like he had always wanted to.

And every day Coryo would wake up to see you in your happy place, the only place you'd ever felt truly at home. He was more than happy to give it all up for the greatest sake of seeing you smile.

"Of course." He smiles, never growing tired of telling you the same thing over and over again if it meant he could ease your mind.

The moonlight bounces off his in a way that makes you think it could be glowing if you didn't know any better.

"I told you that I would be. Years ago. You remember?"

"Of course I remember."

He lets out a breathy laugh at your reply, shaking his head. "That was a foolish question. I don't think you've ever forgotten a single word anyone has ever spoken to you."

"Sure I have." You say, tilting your head as you look up at him, trying to catch the same moonlight reflect in the blue of his eyes as you walk down the path. "I just don't forget... the important bits."

"I will try my best to take care of you while you're here."

"My honest, best advice? Figure out a way to escape."

"I can't have killed them all for nothing."

"You are not a beast."

"Please, don't walk away again."

"I survived because I had to learn to love you."

"Like in your books?" His voice interrupts the swirling of speech from years past, and you shrug.

"Not exactly... it feels different. Because I can hear it, still." You explain, voice dropping into something more quiet as the remnants of your fear eats away at the back of your mind, the cold night breeze imprinting your skin.

"God, the way your mind works, love." He says, and as you look up at him to be met with an expression of pride that always changes everything. "You amaze me every day."

You stay quiet, cheeks getting hot as you look back down at the path.

"Are you happy?" Coryo asks after a moment, eyes never daring to leave your profile as you walk next to him, hardly more than a silhouette in the dark. But certainly more than a ghost, now.

"I am." You reply, the smile creeping back onto your lips. "Such hours are beautiful to live, but hard to describe..."

He hums softly in response. That was a yes, but also a no in the most you fashion possible. His heart remains heavy in his chest knowing that there is nothing more he can do for you to help you heal besides be present. "Is there anything more I can do?" He asks anyway, hoping that maybe you would come up with something.

You shake your head, giving him a tight-lipped smile laced with reassurance.

"Well, then..." He sighs, rather dramatically. "I did have an idea, you know, something that might make you happy. Even just for this one beautiful hour."

You let out a laugh, squeezing his hand a bit. "If that was you asking me if we could-"

"I would like to marry you." He says, for the first time ever, not feeling guilty about interrupting you.

You stop in your tracks, and he stops with you instantly as if he were waiting for it, his hold on your hand not faltering for a second.

"I... you-"

"Darling," He starts, stepping in front of you now, blocking out the moon but hardly putting a dent in the presence of the stars over his shoulders, their soft light reflecting off his blonde curls. "I do love nothing in the world so well as you."

Your shock and confusion begins to wear off as he speaks the familiar words, and you laugh softly. "In your own words, Coryo."

He tilts his head at you, clearly not having expected that kind of response. He expected a lot of things. He planned for everything that could go wrong, he prepared for rejection, for tears, panic, even, but he did not expect that. "I, uh..." He chuckles nervously, giving his head a quick shake to get himself back on track.

He had read that play just for you. Just for this- because he knew how much you loved it, and he remembered the joy it brought you. The smile on your face when you told him about it that day at the lake had never left his mind.

"If you ask me in your own words, I shall say yes." You assure him, hands gripping tighter onto his despite your surprisingly calm demeanor.

"I thought you would like that... You know, knowing you..."

He's quick to defend himself, and your eyes almost sparkle as you look up into his own. "We should have learned by now that our story is our own, yes?" You ask. "We are not Beatrice and Benedick, or Laurie and Amy, or even Romeo and Juliet, just like I used to think we were supposed to be when my days were numbered. I thought I wanted one of those stories to be mine at least once before I died, but I was wrong." You say, taking in the embarrassed flush of his cheeks even in the dim lighting. "You are you, and I am me. No matter what you say I will be happy to marry you, so long as you ask me yourself, and not as someone else."

"Alright then." He gives you a curt nod, a smile on his face as he lowers himself in front of you, careless of the dirt that would no doubt cake into the knee of his pants. "You're everything to me, Y/N/N. My world... my heart, my soul. I didn't know what love was until I met you. I've spent the entirety of my adult life learning to love you, and I never intend to stop. Not even for a moment, so please, let me marry you, love."

"A Coryo indeed." You say softly, recalling the first day you had met him- when you only knew him as Coriolanus, and how far you both had come since then. The growing smile on your lips twitches and you nod, holding his hand a little tighter and attempting to pull Coryo back to his feet. "Of course I will. Nothing would make me happier."

He stands again and very quickly his arms are around you, holding you just as tight as they always had.

taglist: @soulessjourney , @that-veela-girl ,  @dreamyysouls , @rockstarbfs , @maysileeewrites , @baybieruth , @kitscutie ,  @fratboyharrysgf0201 , @totallynotkaibiased , @stelleduarte , @secretsicanthideanymore , @bejeweledreverie , @drewsandsebastianswife , @niicole-87 , @queenofshinigamis , @innercreationflower , @nallasstuff , @iovemoonyy , @thatmarvelchick19 , @wearemadeofstardust0 , @regulusblackcore , @puredreamagination , @fantasticchaosthing , @becauseseaotters , @secretsicanthideanymore , @cascadingbliss

if you want to join the taglist for future fics (requiem, michigan cherry, etc.) as well as the bonus content for this fic, follow me over on @runningfrom2am-library and turn on post notifs! all i do over there is reblog my own writing, so it's effectively a taglist :)

thanks again for being here.

xx, raye

[enris]

CAN I HAVE YOUR DAUGHTER FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE?

synopsis after a year, jake finally earns your father’s blessing. (even if that meant breaking his bank account)

pairing sim jaeyun x f! reader

warnings this is not proofread! i apologize for any mistakes

word count 1.5k+

note first ever official post on tumblr 🥹 and i’m starting it with a slightly long one…bare with me 😔 i hope you enjoy reading, feedback is highly appreciated as i am still kind of new to writing! and of course, if it wasn’t obvious from the title, this is inspired by the song Rude by Magic!

“CAN I HAVE YOUR DAUGHTER FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE?” you watched as jake asked your father the same question, once again. you’ve already told him countless times to not worry about whether your father accepts him or not, but he just can’t seem to live without getting your father’s blessing. so now he made it his whole life mission to get his blessing.

you were watering your precious plants as you heard your dad rejecting him, again.

“my answer is still no.”

the expression left on your boyfriend’s face was just unbearable to see. it almost looked like he was about to cry any second now.

“dad, what’s so hard about accepting him? can’t you tell he’s a nice guy…” you say, trying to convince him yourself, but nothing was working.

“yn, you are way too young to be getting married right now, you hear me? this is unacceptable behavior. and you, young mister,” your father turned to jake who was already staring at him with puppy eyes, “you are not marrying my daughter, you get it? you have been asking me this same question for the past YEAR and it’s been bothering me ever since then. please, leave immediately.”

“what do you mean i’m too young? dad, i graduate from college in 2 months!” you say, but all you got in return was a head shake. you looked over to jake who shrugged back at you.

“yeah, and who’s the one who refused to dorm in? let alone going overseas, you threw a tantrum because you wanted to stay here for college!” your father argued back after a few moments.

you gasped as jake couldn’t hide his smile, “dad!”

“yn, come on, i wanna take you to this new restaurant that opened up.” jake smiled at you as he held his hand out, signaling for you to hold it.

“eh—? young boy, you better not do anything to my daughter, you hear me!? i’m not giving you my blessing for a reason! and you, young girl, you better be home before dark! i can’t stand it when you try to sneak back into the house at 1am…”

“what? you could hear me?” you ask, suddenly remembering all the times you’ve came back home late at night. i guess all the struggles for staying quiet doesn’t matter anymore.

before you could say anything else, your dad went back inside of the house, leaving you dumbfounded.

“i mean—how could he just say that and leave..?! this whole time i’ve been extra careful to not wake him…but he heard me this whole time?!” you couldn’t believe this whole situation, and turned back to your boyfriend.

“well, at least you don’t need to worry about being loud…?” he nervously smiled at you as you stared at him.

you took a deep breath in, “let’s just go to this restaurant. i’m starving.”

you and jake arrived at the recently opened restaurant and were shocked on how busy it was, despite being new. luckily, you guys got a table pretty fast.

“wow, even their menus are pretty.” you say as you scanned through all the foods that were available.

“yeah, they are.” jake responds, but he wasn’t looking at the menu. his eyes were on you as you were looking at what to order.

“hello! may i start off with your drinks for you today?” a waiter soon came over to your table and pulled out her pen and notepad.

“ah yeah, we’ll just take a water.” you say and watched as she wrote it down.

“awesome! are you guys ready to order?” she continues to ask, and you looked over at jake who nodded with a smile.

“uh, i’ll have this pasta please. what are you gonna order?” you turn to your boyfriend who was still scanning over the menu.

“i’ll take the same as her.” he says and the waiter writes down both of your guys’ orders before collecting the menus.

“alright, i’ll be back with your waters and your food will be our shortly after!”

as the waiter left your guys’ table, jake turned to you, his face more serious than before. but of course, what he said was not serious, at all.

“so, how should i suck up to your father?” he leaned in closer to you as he asked.

“what?” you were taken aback from the sudden question he had asked you, “what do you mean?”

jake’s eyes wandered off a bit as he leaned back into his seat again, “well it’s obvious he doesn’t want me to marry you…so i need to suck up to him, don’t i? what does he like? i need to buy him something don’t i? or do i need to show him im a good person…what do i do?”

“woah woah, calm down…what’s all this rush for? you’re acting like your gonna propose to me as soon as we graduate or something.” you say, and you can see the expression of jake’s face change immediately.

“ahaha, i just wanna make sure your father accepts me!” he chuckled nervously, though you can see the sweat dripping down forehead.

“calm down babe. if you are that desperate to get my father’s blessing then you do have to throw a little money around for him..”

“how much money are we talking? if it’s something expensive like gucci or…” jake paused as he noticed the expression on your face. even though you didn’t say anything, it was almost obvious you were telling him he needed to buy something expensive.

jake cleared his throat as he looked at the specific item, “wow…your father is an expensive guy isn’t he?” he scoffed, his hand covering his mouth out of pure shock.

“his birthday is coming up soon…if you buy this for him im almost completely sure his whole perspective on you would change.” you say, and he almost couldn’t even believe you.

“shit, i really gotta buy this specific rolex for him?”

“yeah, he’s been dying to have this specific one.”

all your boyfriend could do was nod continuously as he stared at the price of the watch.

he clapped his hands together, “all right, i’ll get this for him then!” he says with a forced smile. “my bank account will be crying tonight…” he mumbled before walking away to get a person for help.

you rushed over to him, “hey, you don’t have to do this you know? my fathers blessing surely doesn’t mean that much to you, does it? you can just get his favorite food instead.”

jake turned over to you, “baby. if i get him something expensive, especially if it’s something he’s always wanted, he would definitely give me his blessing. if i don’t have his blessing that means i can’t marry you, and i want you to be by my side forever.”

before you could even say anything else jake planed a soft kiss on your lips before calling over a worker.

“do you think he’ll say yes now?” jake asked you before he head inside of the house.

“i mean i sure hope he would…” you responded.

“how about this; if he doesn’t give me his blessing then i’ll kidnap you and after we graduate college we travel overseas and we can get married there!”

you scoffed, “you’re serious about this aren’t you?”

“of course, my girlfriend WILL become my wife and i’ll make sure of it!”

as soon as you guys were about to head inside of the house, your dad opened the door for you. you were shocked, but definitely not as much as your boyfriend who was beside you.

“everybody is getting ready to eat dinner now, what’s taking you so long?”

“uh—hello! yn’s father..” jake waved nervously at your dad who just stared at him. “happy birthday! i got you a gift.”

“oh? what is this?” your father dug his hand inside of the bag and was met with a rolex box. he gasped as he realized what it was.

“it may not be the right time to ask this question considering the special occasion so i apologize in advance. but, CAN I HAVE YOUR DAUGHTER FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE, please?”

you were scared looking at your father’s expression and noticed his grip on the rolex tightening. out of impulse you spatted out a few sentences.

“please dad, he’s really a nice guy. he treats me so well and i love him so much, you don’t understand how much i want him to stay in my life. if you don’t give him your blessing then i wi—”

“silly boy, is this your way of sucking up to me? huh? just because you bought me a rolex i’ve been wanting for ages you expect me to give my blessing to you just like that?” you and jake were both shocked at how your father responded.

“dad—”

“it definitely worked.”

jake’s eyes immediately widened, “wait, really?! i have your blessing?”

“i’ve been testing you all along to see how good of a guy you are and you definitely exceeded my expectations. treat my daughter well, sim jaeyun. im lending you my trust and hope you protect yn.”

you couldn’t hide your smile and so couldn’t jake. you guys both hugged each other before he thanked your father.

“thank you! i promise i will keep your daughter safe. as long as she’s with me only good things shall happen to her!”

© enris 2024. please do not copy, translate, or repost

xtra omg i’m sorry if this seemed messy 😭 again i’m new to doing things like these so feedback is appreciated!

[anna-hawk]

Dexterity

Frank Castle x F!Reader

Summary: You're having some quality time on your own when Frank pays you an unexpected visit.

Explicit 🔞 • WC: 4,1k

Tags and warnings: masturbation, finger fucking, teasing, praise kink, hand & finger kink, dirty talk

Always time for Coffee series

⚠️ If you follow me on AO3, this is NOT a new fic! ⚠️

A/N: This month will mark five years since I posted my very first Frank x Reader fic. I made a small post for the series a few years back, but never a dedicated one for the first ever fic. After the news and pics of getting Frank back today, even if it's only for a small role, I was thinking back to the time I got first inspired to write and actually post something for once. It's been quite the journey since then and this series has now 16 parts, but most importantly, this fic played a big part in me joining the beautiful fandom that I've been a part of these past 4 years and getting me to meet incredible people. So I figured, let's be nostalgic and officially post it on here too.

Ever since meeting Frank Castle, you’ve been obsessed with his hands.

You know they have killed numerous people and could do cruel things to the ones deserving it, but you also know how kind and gentle they can be. When he would come to your shop as Pete, you’d seen how he would talk to one of your employees' kid, the boy having always had a short fuse, and manage to calm the boy down by simply putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder. The couple of times when he’d handled the fragile elements of your ice cream maker while repairing it with those deft hands had also shown how gentle they could be. 

Yeah, you really have a thing for his hands and the guy himself.

The first time you'd met him, you'd met Pete Castiglione the construction worker, who’d been visiting your Café for the first time. You had followed the whole Punisher debacle on TV and had been very intrigued by the man’s story. Yet even though you'd thought that Pete looked familiar, it had taken you a few weeks of him coming in every other day and helping you out with an electrical problem, to realize who had actually been hiding under all this wild hair and beard. That had been the first time you had come into contact with his hands, too. He had taken off his baseball cap, looked at you to ask where the problem was while standing really close to you, and something in his expression had finally made it click inside you. You'd breathed out, “Frank Castle,” in stunned realization a moment later. In the next second, he'd had you by your throat and against the opposite wall, asking who’d sent you. You had been so startled that you’d just started laughing at the absurdity of you being able to hurt him. Okay, so maybe not really laughed as much as choked, since he’d had his fingers squeezing rather hard around your windpipe. But you'd managed to wheeze out your thoughts, and he'd released you enough for you to tell him why and how you had recognized him. He’d deemed you trustworthy enough, apparently, because he'd let go of you and apologized for overreacting.

You had promised him that you would never tell anyone about him that same evening.

As weeks passed, and he’d still come by your Café, you'd managed to build a rather close friendship. After a while, though, you'd noticed that he was coming by less and less until he stopped coming altogether, making you worried. Finally, after the day everyone had found out that Frank Castle was still alive through live TV, he'd come to your shop when you were closing. You had been even more scared for him since the news and beyond relieved to see him unscathed. You had been touched to learn that he’d wanted to make sure that no one had found out that you knew about him and come to hurt you to get to him. He'd also told you that he would have to lie low for a while. You'd suggested that he should come to your place and hide there. He had declined, too worried about what could happen to you. Still, as you'd accepted his concern, you'd told him that he could come to yours whenever he needed to, no matter the time of the day or the night. You had never been more glad about giving him your address because weeks later, he had come to hide for the night and had done so several nights until the whole thing with Billy Russo had been over.

Nowadays, he still shows up every now and again. Mostly nights because he has some business to take care of, or just to say hi. You both grab a drink (mostly coffee) and chat. You enjoy his company a lot. Okay, more than a lot. You’ve had a thing for the Punisher even before meeting Frank, but since knowing the man himself, you couldn’t help being attracted to Frank and his beautiful large hands and agile fingers. Among other things. You don't know where he stands with romantic or even only physical relationships considering his past, but you do kind of flirt with one another. You know that Frank likes you a lot; otherwise he wouldn’t come to see you regularly. But even if you want him, badly, you feel that it’s more like bantering to him and nothing more.

That doesn’t stop you from dreaming or fantasizing about him and the filthy things that you’d love him to do to you or you to him, though. And that's actually exactly what you’re doing right now. You’re lying on your bed, the sheets tangled around your legs, one hand inside your sleeping shorts while your breaths come harder and faster. You’ve been teasing yourself for what feels like an hour, fingers alternating between circling your clit languidly and pushing three deep into you to mimic the size of two of his, getting yourself closer and closer to one spectacular orgasm. You’ve got your eyes closed, face flushed, bottom lip between your teeth, while your middle finger is rubbing faster and faster over your slippery clit. Harsh breaths leave you as you picture Frank spreading you wide with his fingers and whispering dirty nothings into your ear. You’re right there, on the brink, ready to fall, when there’s a resounding knock at your door.

You yelp in surprise and flinch so hard that you nearly hit yourself in the face with how fast you remove your hand from between your legs. You’re trying to get your bearings back, your body still trembling from being strung high for so long and not getting what it wants, when there is another knock. You groan in frustration and get up on wobbly legs to go check on who wants to see you so badly at that time of night. You look through the peephole and gasp when you see Frank’s face. He'd been here only last week, and he usually shows up only once a month at best, so you’re completely thrown when you open your door to the smirking man.

“Hey, Sweetheart,” he greets in his signature gruff and deep voice, upper body pressed lazily against the door jamb.

He’s looking calm and carrying no signs of a recent fight. Meaning that this isn’t an emergency call. Good. He’s wearing dark jeans and a charcoal Henley with his usual combat boots, three days worth of stubble on his face. He looks mouthwatering, and you valiantly try not to let anything show on your face.

“Was in the neighborhood visitin' Curtis and thought I could come check on you too. Sorry it’s so late,” he continues, confirming your earlier thoughts on there being no immediate danger.

“You’ve come by way later, Frank,” you remind him with a snort and motion for him to follow you inside.

You notice that your voice came out a bit strained, and hope that he doesn’t see how your knees are still shaking after the near orgasm and the effect his unexpected presence has on you. Well, turns out that you’re out of luck. 

“You okay there?” He asks, as he follows you into the kitchen.

You groan inside, of course he noticed. You still try to play it off.

“What? Of course, I’m okay.” You hate how your laugh sounds off. You’re usually better at faking stuff like that.

“Yeah?” he says, coming to stand right before you to give you a once over. “'cause you’re all flushed and breathin' kinda hard.” He even lifts one hand to feel your temperature, but you dodge it and turn to the sink, reaching over it to get two coffee mugs out of a cupboard. Anything to avoid him see you blush even more.

“I’m fine, Frank, don’t worry… Coffee?” You desperately hope that he’s going to let it go. You need to put yourself back together and slow your breathing.

“Can never refuse your coffee.”

You breathe a small sigh of relief when he seems to accept your answer and smile at how fond he sounds of your coffee making skills. You’re about to reach for the coffee beans when he says, “Seriously, though, am I makin' you this nervous or what's goin' on?”

You put your hands back down and groan in defeat, hanging your head.

“Could you just let it go, Frank? Please?”

He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, and you don’t turn around to look at him while you wait.

“Did I interrupt somethin'?” He finally says, amusement clear in his voice. Damn him and his perceptiveness.

You hide your face in your hands and whimper in embarrassment.

“Oh God, just shut up, Frank!” Your voice is muffled by your hands. He barks out a laugh, making you lower your hands again. “You’re such a jerk.”

“Hey, hey, `s okay Sweetheart, there’s nothin' to be embarrassed about,” he tells you gently, though you can tell that he’s still grinning, the bastard.

“Yes well…” You still refuse to turn around, even though you can hear him move closer behind you.

“'could always show me, y'know,” he says, and even though the words hit you to the core because the thought alone sends a new wave of deep arousal through you, you can’t place his tone. 

That's why you do the only thing that comes to mind and gasp, turning around to backhand him in the chest and play into the joke.

“Oh, fuck you, asshole.”

You meet his eyes and see that there’s something there, lying just under the teasing glint. You suck in a breath, holding it in, while your heart beats a nervous tattoo against your rib cage.

“Or… I could help 'course,” he finally says, voice low, after what feels like minutes and not seconds, his piercing eyes never leaving yours.

You stare at him, still barely daring to breathe. The idea of him helping you out nearly sends you to your knees. Eventually, you exhale in a snort because come on, he doesn’t mean it, and go back to facing the counter, taking the coffee beans out of the cupboard.

“Yeah, right… Let’s get back to that coffee, yeah?” Bonus points for sounding offhand.

You hear him taking another step and then see his hands coming to rest on the counter, one on each side of you, effectively caging you in. His voice is a rough whisper against your left ear, making you gasp.

“Is that a no?”

Your hands, now inches apart from Frank’s, are gripping the marble beneath them, hard. You close your eyes and swallow.

“Don’t play games with me, Frank.” Your voice goes deeper and colder in warning. You might not expect anything romantic-wise from him, but you won’t be made a fool of.

“‘m not playin', Baby.”

To confirm his words, he glides his nose along your nape and bites you lightly on the juncture between neck and shoulder.

You moan, all need. That nickname. He's never used it before, but it does something to you. Babe you’ve never liked. But Baby? The way Frank says it, just gets to you. You incline your head to the side, a silent surrender, and feel him grin against your skin. Your eyes are closed so that you don’t see his right hand leave the counter, but feel it settle on your hip and slowly glide down your thigh to the hem of your shorts. To your dismay, his mouth leaves your neck.

“Spread your legs for me, Sweetheart,” he rumbles into your ear.

You oblige instantly, parting your legs and leaning slightly forward to accommodate him. Frank hums in approval. You can feel his fingers on your skin now, just beneath the hem of your shorts, slowly making their way under your right butt cheek and to your center, the touch light and measured. How is it that he's barely touching you and making your breathing speed up again? You try to relax your hands because you’re still gripping the hard kitchen surface like crazy; anything to anchor you. But Frank chooses that moment to push the short’s to the side, hooking it between your ass cheeks and the left side of your outer lips, to grant him easier access. One large finger slides through your still wet folds. One lazy pass through your slit and up to your clit, and your hands lock into place again, a harsh gasp leaving your mouth.

“Shit, already so fuckin’ wet, huh? Guess I did interrupt somethin' good.”

You say nothing, you can’t right now.

Frank keeps up his slow and torturous pace, sometimes staying over your clit and circling it with a featherlight touch that has you nearly screaming in frustration. You try to get a bit more pressure by pushing down on his finger every time he does this, but he just goes back to teasing your slit. Your arms are trembling from the strain, and you murmur a nearly silent plea for more. He seems to hear you though because he chuckles kindly and applies enough pressure for you to moan in satisfaction for a few seconds, before he stops again, too soon. When you fantasize about him, you usually picture him as the teasing kind of lover, but your imagination could never have reached this level.

“Tell me… What you been thinkin' about earlier?”

You’re kind of put out to hear that his voice is still steady, so you decide on the truth. In for a penny and all that.

“You,” you breathe softly.

His movements stop, and you’re satisfied with his reaction, when you realize that you might have overshared. His hand is moving again a moment later, and he growls deep in his throat. He presses his chest to your back, left hand coming up from the counter to grab your jaw and pull it to the side to press biting kisses into your neck and shoulder, making you keen.

“Me, huh? Fuck, now I really want ya to show me sometime…,” he pants roughly into your neck, index finger rubbing tighter and harder over you. “And what was I doin’?”

You have to concentrate to answer him, the pressure on your clit so delicious now. Your voice ends up breaking on each word.

“Something… like… that…”

“Something?”

“Finger-fucking… me.”

He inhales sharply, and you feel him adjust his position behind you, his clothed erection brushing against your ass for a second.

“Something like that?”

Two of his large fingers plunge deep into you, filling you to the brim. You cry out in bliss and go up on your tiptoes for a second as your body rises. Your back bows backward, resulting in your head coming to rest on his shoulder, while your eyes close, and you catch your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Fuck, you feel so good for me, Baby,” he groans into your temple. He withdraws slightly before pushing back all the way in, setting a steady rhythm as the way his name keeps falling from your lips keeps him going.

The hand on your jaw slackens after a while and travels down your neck, over your collarbone and a covered nipple. He’s stroking down your belly and to the junction of your thighs before he finally stops directly over your clit. He rolls it between index and thumb with just the right amount of too much and not enough pressure, or flicks quickly over it repeatedly to keep you on your toes and not know what to expect next. The rhythm of his two hands are completely different. Where his left hand is teasing you slowly but mercilessly, his right hand still has two fingers fucking you fast and deep, making you whimper brokenly. His fingers feel absolutely incredible, yet you know that it’s to keep you on the edge of release. You love and hate it at the same time. The dual sensation has you removing your head from his shoulder to take your weight with your hands on the counter again, leaning forward a bit more to push your ass out and give him even better access.

Frank grunts his approval and keeps up the pace. You feel him resting his forehead on the nape of your neck.

“Holy shit, girl, look at ya takin' my fingers so perfectly,” he says gruffly. You squeeze down on said fingers at the praise, resulting in a groan of appreciation from him.

Eventually, no matter how long he’d intended to keep you on the brink, you’ve been strung so high for so long, that your orgasm is building inexorably, your body ready to crash back down again. His continuous praise is speeding it up as well. Your legs start to shake and a light sheen of sweat is covering your skin. Your harsh breaths are intermingled with moans and gasps of please mores and yesyesyes.

“Frank, please,” you beg one last time. “Please!”

“I gotcha, Sweetheart,” Frank answers finally and starts upping his pace on your clit.

“Yes!” you hiss, elated.

But Frank is apparently not completely done with you because he removes his two fingers from inside you, only to push back but with a third one, this time. You can only cry out in surprise and deep pleasure as he gives you half a second to adjust, before he starts an intense rhythm again. You’ve never felt this full with only fingers, and you can now feel as your release starts curling hotter and tighter in your belly.

“F-f-f-frank, I’m so, so close,” you manage to breathe out.

Frank keeps a litany of words spilling out of his mouth against your neck, “So fuckin' perfect for me” and, “Takin' me so beautifully”.

Suddenly, you're right there again, just like before, ready to take the leap. You feel the shivers running through your whole body and centering where Frank is rubbing tighter and tighter circles. Frank lifts his head from yours and growls deeply into your ear. “Now come for me, Baby. Come on my fingers.”

“Oh fuck, Frank!” You mewl, high-pitched, and that’s it. Everything in you snaps at his words. The intensity of this so long to come orgasm hits you like a freight train driven by Frank Castle. Your body curves back against his, your head back on his shoulder, facing his neck. Your hold on the kitchen worktop becomes deadly again after having slackened somewhat, and you cry out in pure, unadulterated bliss. You dimly feel Frank stopping the fingers inside you and taking them out to circle your waist and push you even more back against him. His focus is on his left hand, index finger still stroking your bud with intense precision, prolonging your release.

As you’re slowly coming down, your body begins to tremble and Frank tightens his hold on you to prevent your knees from giving out on you. You finally release the worktop, fingers a bit stiff, and put them over Frank’s arm to hold on to. His finger hasn’t stop working you, though, and while it’s sending you nice aftershocks, which have you jerking and gasping against him, you finally reach down with one hand to grab his wrist to stop his movements and rest it against your waist with the other.

“Too much,” you mumble into his throat.

You stand like that for a while, both not saying anything while you try to get your breathing back under control. As the seconds trickle by, and you process the last fifteen minutes, you can’t help the laugh that bubbles up and escapes your lips.

“What?” Frank asks, and you can hear the amusement in his voice.

“That was so not what I was expecting from your visit… Not that I mind, of course,” you grin, all relaxed limbs and all.

Frank chuckles, “‘m a man full of surprises.”

You reach down to tug at your shorts and make yourself presentable again, and snicker.

“That you are,” you say and turn around in his arms to look at him, your hands coming to rest on his strong chest.

Your heart misses a beat when you see his face. He’s a bit flushed, and he’s still breathing rather deeply, but it’s his eyes that capture your full attention. They are still dark with arousal, the gaze intense and fixed on yours. Frank’s lips break out in a smirk as he catches you staring. You swallow and clear your throat as you finally take in the hard outline of his dick against your body. You’re about to open your mouth to inquire about it, but he beats you to it.

“Don’ worry ‘bout it, Sweetheart.”

“But-”

“‘m good,” he cuts in again, kissing your temple to take the sting out of his rebuttal before letting go of you.

You stay quiet and lean back against the counter as you nod vaguely. Frank takes a few steps backwards away from you, one hand coming up to rake through his hair and down his neck in a nervous gesture. He doesn’t look at you, so you decide to break the silence. You’re still floating on your high a bit and don’t want things to get uncomfortable between you two.

“So… coffee?”

You see him take a small breath and look back at you with a smile. His eyes are kind but unreadable, like they so often are when he’s thinking about something.

“Yeah, I’d like that, thanks.”

You smile and get back to grab the things you need, Frank going to sit on the couch. The silence is only broken by the coffee grinder for a small while. Your apartment is one large space with an open kitchen that gives on a big living area. A comfortable couch and a coffee table, that are framed by two armchairs, face a flat screen TV and huge floor to ceiling windows. Your bedroom with en suite bathroom is on the opposite side from the kitchen. You adore this place. From where you’re preparing the two mugs, you only have to turn your head to the left to see Frank sitting on the couch, arms thrown over the back of it, legs spread wide. He stares unblinkingly at the darkness and buildings outside your windows. You bite your lip and sigh softly. Once you’re done, one mug with strong dark coffee for Frank in one hand and in the other one with decaf because you definitely don’t need any more excitement tonight, you make your way over to him.

You walk around the back of the couch to sit at the opposite end, your back resting against the armrest. You extend your hand with Frank’s mug toward him. He blinks down at it for a second before taking the mug. He turns his upper body to face you, and you relax a little more at the half smile, half smirk that he usually wears and that he gives you now.

“Thanks,” he says gratefully and hums in pleasure when he takes his first sip.

“Anytime,” you chuckle warmly. You had been proud to find out that Frank had initially come to your Café because he had heard people talking about the quality of your coffee.

You sit there without saying anything, but this time it’s a comfortable silence, both savoring your drinks.

“So how’s Curtis?” You inquire after several long minutes.

It’s an honest question, but you also want to show Frank that you can still talk like you used to. You’ve never met Curtis, but you’ve heard a lot about him and how he has always been there for Frank. That alone means a lot in your book. You end up talking for a small amount of time, conversation becoming easier, before Frank decides to bid you goodnight. You walk him back to the door, and he envelops you in a hug that you hadn’t been expecting at this point. He kisses you on a temple like he often does, making you smile into his neck fondly before returning the kiss but on one cheek instead.

“Take care,��� he rasps into your ear, before letting go of you and opening the door.

“Be careful,” you counter with raised eyebrows and a meaningful look.

Frank chuckles and nods. “I'll see what I can do.”

He walks off to the elevator, which opens for him immediately when he pushes the call button, and steps inside. He lifts a hand in a wave as the doors slide closed in front of him, and then he’s gone.

You close your door and lean against it, heaving a heavy sigh. You don’t really know what to feel right now. You’ve just had one of the most memorable orgasms of your life, but still don’t know where you stand with Frank. If you go back to how things were before tonight, that’s fine with you. You’re kind of afraid that you might have scared him off, but the way he behaved before leaving makes you feel confident enough that you haven’t. The ball is definitely in Frank’s court now. You would have to wait and see.