#Up to your old tricks again Elegant

[theluckywizard]

hap fri!! i'm not sure if it quite suits them but for actions as love, i'd love to see hawke x elegant and 'Drawing/painting them.'

Hi Ro! Thank you for my first Helegant prompt! Got to get that backstory for my fics :D For @dadrunkwriting

Here's a fluffy exchange for these two!

WC: 771

Characters: Garrett Hawke, Lady Elegant (in Hawke's mysterious first year in Kirkwall), POV Elegant

Rating: Teen

He comes around whether he needs anything or not. A tower of muscle and sinew that likes the sound of his own wit. And even when he needs something, he never has the money for it. So he haggles for my wares, pitching various favors, most of which couldn’t interest me in the slightest.

I see him occasionally, claiming his space in this bloody forsaken slum like he didn’t just fall off a boat from the south. Roving with his little brother who is equal in his brawn, occasionally his sister, an obvious apostate. But he only ever comes by my stall on his own.

Today he makes himself at home in a chair he drags over from the stall next to mine shamelessly. He sits far enough away that no one mistakes him for tending to the stall, but close enough that he can bother me.

“Sketching, Hawke?” I ask, when he refuses to address me for several minutes. He looks over his shoulder, biting his lip like an imp.

“Oh hello, Elegant. You know me, always need to be doing something.”

I wander over to appraise his skill. His wild sketched lines coalesce to make a startlingly clear depiction of old Halva who weaves with her loom another stall over. My breath catches, his talent surprising me with a warmth that nestles behind my ribs oddly.

“One draught for one drawing,” I offer him, meeting his eyes boldly, the corner of my lips curling. He rotates, speechless for a change and settles in to sketch me. I manage to stave off my flush by applying myself to the mortar and pestle beneath me, grinding my black lotus seeds too finely under the weight of his attention. 

A terrible idea coalesces the same way his pencil strokes do. The intense blue of his eyes. His finger stroking over his lips as he observes me. The broad reach of his shoulders.

A sudden flash of heat that surges up my neck reminds me that there are thousands of poor men in Kirkwall to waste myself upon. I need to set my sights higher if I’m ever to get out of this dump.

He holds up his sketchbook to me and rises, approaching, the blush I’ve had on lockdown escaping my grasp at a most inopportune time.

“Your sketch, oh Potion Master,” he says. I take in the drawing, admiring the artistry of his pencil strokes. Gesture upon gesture outlines the edge of my profile. Truthfully I only ever hoped to be as delicate as he's depicted me.

“Your potion, Hawke,” I answer, handing him a small vial. He ducks under the shade of my stall, lifting the canvas flap. Oh. He’s never done that before.

“I— um,” he starts, but to my surprise words evade him. Instead he looks me over, assessing my mood. “Meet me at the Hanged Man? Later when you close up.”

“You can’t afford me, Hawke,” I remind him. In more ways than one. 

“I— realize that,” he answers, the twinkle of his blue eyes softening into a sultry little plea. “Nonetheless.”

That terrible idea comes knocking again and I immediately lose my grip on it. Grasping him by a handful of his tunic, I pull him down to me for a kiss, partially concealed by a flap of dusty sunshade. It’s as unpolished as he is, though I can’t rightly blame him for it. He pulls back, eyebrow raised, his big hands, stroking around my waist to my back. 

“That’s going to cost you another potion,” he grins. I reach into my basket and place another one in his hand, bearing into him with a grudging little glance. He lifts his chin to gesture at another cache, a wooden lockbox that contains the higher grade goods. “What about those. What could I trade you for one of those?”

I can’t help the way my brows jump slightly, or the way my mouth falls open as I consider.

“I can think of a few things,” I breathe. He bends to kiss me again, and it’s shockingly sensuous, our lips parting for a puff of breath and a tease of tongue.

“I’d better go see about some ruffians,” he remarks from inches away. “But if you’re serious, I think we could come to an agreeable arrangement.”

I watch him wander into the weave of the afternoon market crowd, glancing back to flash a dashing bloody smile at me. When my senses return, I start organizing my workspace reflexively. 

Fuck. 

A penniless refugee indentured to the Red Iron of all things. He may not live past the end of the week.

Maker, Elegant. You sure know how to pick them. 

[leighsartworks216]

Puppy

Sylus x gn!Reader

Inspired by the quality time work/study animation when he looks up from cleaning his gun and he just looks so soft and sweet 🥺 And also from the in-game phone call "Crow"

Warnings: swearing, pet names, biting, teasing, fluff

Word Count: 1,142

Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

“Where’s Sylus?”

The temperamental crow looked at you with one glowing red eye, beak turned away coyly. You have to wonder what kind of programming went into making him have so much attitude. It’d probably go right over your head, anyway.

“Wanna make a deal?” You keep an eye on Mephisto as you reach into your pocket, rooting around until cold metal touches your fingers. You lift the shiny metal nut like a prize. “Hm? A nice shiny trinket for you if you show me where Sylus is? What d’ya say?”

His metal wings fluttered at his side, feet stepping unsurely on his perch. But all crows are alike, mechanical or otherwise. He swoops down and snatches the metal from your fingers. You feel the brush of talons, barely escaping having your hand sliced up by an overeager metal chicken.

His caw sounds like a laugh as he leads you down the many halls of the mansion. When he stops to wait for you to catch up, he croons at his shiny new knickknack, pecking at it and staring at it from every angle with his red eyes. He glides through the open crack of a door.

You peek in first. It’s a study, with shelves lined with old paper books and vinyls. There’s a desk with guns neatly laid out on top. Mephisto perches on the accompanying chair. And on the couch, head tilted back and eyes closed, is Sylus.

You wonder if he’s really asleep this time. He’s tricked you before, but as you listen closely you hear the soft snores giving him away.

How cute, you think. A little midnight nap.

The door doesn’t make a sound as you push it open enough to slip inside. You don’t close it back all the way, and Mephisto’s wings nearly clip your head as he flies back outside of the room. That damn bird will always have it out for you, you’re sure of it.

You creep along the elegant carpet to your target, slowly lowering yourself to sit on the other end of the couch. As much as you love messing with Sylus, you didn’t actually want to wake him up now. So, being very careful, you lay down and rest your head in his lap.

“If you want to cuddle, you don’t need to sneak around for it.”

You smack his chest. “You’re such an asshole!” Your heart was racing from the scare, but you don’t get up from your new position. Sylus rewards you by beginning to comb his fingers through your hair. “Were you actually sleeping?”

He hums. There’s a gravel to his voice you didn’t notice before. “Yes, I was.” He finally lifts his head from the back of the couch to look down at you. “Until someone gave Mephisto a shiny new item for his collection.”

You chuckle despite the unimpressed look on his face. “He told on me again?”

“You’re all he seems to talk about these days,” he sighs. He brushes some hair away from your forehead. “At least it’s positive, this time.

“Did you need something from me?”

“Not really. I was just… lonely.”

He smiles slightly. “Well, I’m always happy to keep you company, sweetie.”

It’s easy to doze while he plays with your hair. He seems to know all the right spots, all the right techniques to ease your troubles away. In his care, your hair doesn’t tangle or get caught. It’s heaven.

-

When you wake up, you’re exactly where you were. Sylus’s lap was warm under you, and you wondered if his legs fell asleep at any point during your nap. If they did, he’d suffered through it for your sake.

His hand was nearly still in your hair now. It didn’t move in those perfect ministrations as before. Instead, it was almost completely still, moving at a snail’s pace along the crown of your head. You blink your eyes open to figure out why, maybe even pout and whine about it just to annoy him, but you can’t stop from just staring.

If he notices you’re awake or watching him, he doesn’t say anything. His thumb scrolls through his phone, probably looking at the latest underground news on shady deals or skimming over messages from desperate people wanting to deal with him. Something that drew his attention away from you, at least.

So you take your time drinking him in.

He’s pretty, there’s no arguments there, but it’s his own kind of pretty. It’s sharp and multifaceted, like a crystal. His eyes are intense, lashes so dark and thick it looks like he’s wearing makeup. You wonder if he does. He’d look even more gorgeous with dark red eyeshadow and sharp cat eyeliner. His lips are pressed into a thin line, soft pink drawing your eyes to them. You quickly turn your attention to the slope of his nose before he catches you.

With a sigh, Sylus closes his phone and sets it aside. His hand in your hair goes back to a normal speed, his fingers scratching at the nape of your neck as he finally looks down at you, And just like that, all that sharp beauty is replaced.

Instead of his usual intense gaze, his eyes are soft around the edges, just a little bit wider, relaxed. His lips quirk up slightly at the sight of you, softening his cheekbones. He tilts his head playfully, eyebrows raising as though asking if you’re enjoying the view.

“Puppy.”

He blinks, and it’s gone. His brow furrows, his lips dropping into a frown, eyes sharpened with suspicion. “What?”

You smirk. It’s rare to feel like you have the upper hand. You reach up and touch his cheek. He leans into it, though his expression remains.

“Sometimes you get this look on your face,” you tell him. Your thumb runs under his eye. “It makes you look soft, like a little puppy.”

He scoffs, but his lips quirk up again. “Just how long have you been waiting to use that on me?”

You hum, running your fingers down his cheekbone to his jaw. “Since I asked you to join me while I study a few days ago.” You traced the sharp cut of his jawline, tracking the movement with your eyes. “I looked up for a minute, and you were looking at me like I’d just promised to scratch you behind the ears.” To emphasize your point, you reach to do just that.

He catches your hand before you can, thumb pressed to your palm to keep your hand open. He brings your fingers to his lips, eyes watching you intently as he bites down on them, one at a time, nipping at the tips and knuckles with a smirk. “Careful, kitten,” he warns. He bites at the soft skin on the back of your hand. “This puppy bites.”

[nonuify]

ᝰ.ᐟ 🐈‍⬛ — J.WW ; ! soon to be mrs

nsfw is included ! minors do not interact 18+. old money au ! [ smut, fluff & degrading kink oop- ]. idk why inspired by this song lol ꩜. | wc ; 1.8k.

“ who would’ve thought that you were to be with one of the most wealthiest men on earth? but being the wealthiest sure means being the busiest here you are sitting bored in the classiest bar in paris while being on a business outing with your dear fiancé. ”

if you told yourself four years ago that you are engaged to jeon wonwoo of jeon industries you would’ve laughed your ass off.

but now here you are sitting right beside him.

he had displayed his affection to you by holding your thigh with his veiny hands, his fingers brushing slowly on the delicate surfaces of your skin. but he was also giving more attention to the business man in-front of him and you.

now you would bang your head to the wall of boredom but you must admit that it is refreshingly breathtaking to your ears hearing the man talking business with his elegant french accent but you would’ve loved it more if your dear lover was making love to you in the penthouse owned by him.

but of course here he was not giving the attention that you’ve been needing all these two hours. trying squeezing your thighs together to relive some friction but eventually becoming a failed attempt the reason being your fiancé, giving you a blank stare for a moment meaning to warn you but you didn’t give a flying shit anymore you just wanted to get your brains fucked out.

a low sigh escaping your lips from clear frustration following a roll from your eyes which caused the french man to speak up “mademoiselle it must be tiring for being a wife of such a busy man” a chuckle out his lips while taking a sip from his martini, a giggle also left your lips with a response “well if I may say yes it is tiring but wonu always makes it up to me” a wink flew to wonwoo making him smile.

“by making up I’m sure you mean hurting his credit card” a hearty laugh from the client.

“well no, but the answer well… let’s just say it isn’t appropriate for a business scene like this” a smirk forming on your lips, enjoying every moment of this, but as your eyes shifted to your lover you couldn’t say the same, his eyes widened as he almost choked from his alcoholic drink from the words the graced your mouth.

but smoothly saved the awkward silence by saying “I think my darling angel here has had too many drinks” he chuckled but did not mean he found it funny one bit.

instead he was frustrated maybe even abit jealous if he may add he knew that bastard of a client was flushed when y/n said that, not to mention he dared to check his fiancé out too many times for his liking.

“well.. it was nice meeting you mr.aucalir but i think i need to take care of y/n here” he said putting a hand around your shoulder, signaling for you to get up from the comfy space of the chairs you were both sitting in. “ it was a pleasure having a drink with you mr.jeon & certainly a delight to have known soon to be mrs.jeon here” he said kissing you hand while you giggled away also went afar from the business man you just chatted with, coming close to wonwoo’s black porsche 718 spyder RS, his looks weren’t the only thing that was breathtaking but also his taste in cars.

the feeling of the seats leather warmed your skin but once you sat done his hand also warmed the flesh of your thigh once again but this time he gripped it tight, you knew you were in for a ride once you got home.

“wonwon you know i was joking my love?” batting your eye lashes at the male who was driving the car, but unsurprisingly you were meant by silence from him but the car sped faster, wonwoo knew your bratty little tricks and he wasn’t gonna give you what you desperately wanted easily.

after of what seemed like a decade of a car ride you finally stepped into the penthouse you guys had lived into for a short-period stay in paris, the simple yet sophisticated well decor gave the housing unit a warm yet elegant vibe, you’re admiration for the designing of the penthouse was cut short when your fiancé pinned your arms above your pretty little head to the wall leaving no space between your bodies, he wasn’t touching you thoroughly yet your panties soaked when he did the simple movement “nonu I didn’t mean to word it out like that I swear it was only for fun” you pouted, knees weakened as he stared into your pretty trapped hands around his & saw the big diamond rock around your finger, memories flowed when he asked to be his forever, then moved his beautiful orbed eyes and looked at yours with so much lust yet so much love.

“I think it’s about time you shut your dirty little mouth for me how about that doll?” he spoke as he left his lips dangerously close to yours eventually kissing you passionately.

his hands moved letting yours freed but went to your hips grabbing them, you wrapped your legs quickly around his waist, knowing this session was heading to the bedroom you slept in.

your roberto cavalli dress you’d previously had worn was now on the floor as you were on the bed, back on the silk mattress & now wonwoo was on top of you, taking off your classic black little thong a wet spot was felt by his hands causing him to laugh “dumb baby gets wet by anything don’t you?” throwing you a smug smile, “you were the one who-“ you get cut off, your own panties gagging you “that motherfucker” you thought as now you can’t do nothing but whine against the thong that was in your mouth.

“didn’t I tell you it’s time to you shut your mouth angel?” kissing your neck leaving purplish-redish marks against it, you knew he loved marking you, it was a way he would prove to the world you were his and his only.

you would be lying if you said that didn’t make you even more wet, whining & moaning louder as your lover moved from your neck to quickly ripping your black bralette that obviously matched your thong.

he groped one of your breasts in one hand with the other he bit & roughly kissed it.

he knew how sensitive your nipples were and oh boy you were in for a very long night, with each kiss the rougher on your poor nub, “mm those boobs were made for me weren’t they angel” he smiled against one of them as you would only moan loudly enjoying every bit of this moment, wonwoo the moved down to your wet sex, hot breathes against it.

kissing your inner thighs first then eventually after more teasing he sucked on your clit , your hands never moved faster down to his hair at that second, his eyes on yours as he licked & kissed away down there, you could only watch and was helplessly gagged by the panties as even your moans were painfully to let out by that you knew if it made you uncomfy he would remove it in a matter of moments.

but luckily you liked it no. loved it deep down you both know you were a little masochist.

“aww my dumb girl is struggling” he faked a pout then went back to tongue fucking your hole, stretching your tight little cunt out until a knot formed in your stomach feeling an orgasm coming, whining loudly as you tugged on his hair more harder, rolling your eyes you finally you came on his face.

panting heavily till you calmed down a little. momentarily after that he took the panties from your mouth & threw it somewhere around the dark natured bedroom, you begged him “please please nonu please fuck me I promise I’ll be a good girl “ as tears formed falling from your eyes, giving him the best puppy eyes ever “but I let you came no?” disappointed as you began to cry more, thinking of an idea of letting him into fucking you, you got on all fours pressing your ass on his clear raging boner “such a pathetic cocksleeve” but he smiled at how desperately you wanted him he found it cute even.

you heard his belt being taken off, you couldn’t be happier after hearing that you could scream you were getting what you wanted all night long “t-thank you s-so much nonu!!” how cute his cute little angel “always so polite when I give you my cock, I guess you are my good girl” he chuckled kneading the flesh of your ass then spanking each side of your cheeks loving the sight of it jiggling.

teasing you, sliding his dick against your folds, you whined pushing backwards to hope you would get him inside of you quickly, but he answers by grabbing your head and pushing down on the mattress with one hand and pushing his cock in your tight hole with the other.

make-up that took hours for you to finish was totally ruined.

your knuckles turned white from how you gripped at the mattress “w-wonnwon!!” moaning loudly feeling as he stretched you out completely by his big cock, “fuck a-always so fuckin’ tight f’me” he groaned thrusting slowly for you to adjust to his size then picking up the pace, skin slapping & lewd noises was filled with in the room.

“mm fuck this cunt was made f’me isn’t it princess, m’gonna wife you up ” you only muffled a mm! yeah! loudly as a response, too fucked out to respond correctly.

“gonna cum with me angel?” his thrusts sped up feeling his high he moaned and said again “cmon baby come with me s-shit” both moaning in unison riding your high together till he came & you squirted out on his cock.

loving the feeling of his warm seed in you, you whined after he pulled out and lied down on the bed with you “fuck that was really hot baby, squirting all for me” he pushed the hair out your face and leaves kisses all over your face, saying precious compliments on how you did good for him, “mm love you nonu” you hugged him lying with him soon into going into the world slumber “love you more angel” he smiled pulling you close to him.

the tingling thought of tomorrow & the day after & after because what was awaiting is the best life you could wish for as long as it’s with jeon wonwoo.

! 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ this is so bad I’m so sorry- but thank you for reading >ᴗ< !!

[xeeljii]

CURRENTS ⋆⭒˚.⋆

PART 2: Let It Happen

WARNING! Explicit RPF! 

IMPORTANT!!! You have to read PART 1 before this or it won't make sense! ⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆

Summary: You and Joost were never lovers, never friends but something in the middle that ended up hurting more, you meet again years later and many things have changed but others stay the same. 

Word count: 14,4k

CW: 18+, f! reader, past friends with benefits, mutual pining, jealousy, yearning so much yearning, angst with a happy ending? who knows…you will have to read I guess (๑>؂•̀๑)⋆˙⟡

You had said yes to dinner, that was unexpected. Some part of him thought you would hang up or curse him out and then hung up but you didn’t and somehow that scared him worse. It meant that you were truly unbothered by this, that he was just an old fling who had no further impact on your life and that you were totally calm about this unlike him, who hadn’t been able to stop thinking about you for a single minute since the call. That was not the reality at all but he couldn’t know that. You had kept your old number, that was the first surprise actually, he had heard from an acquittance from those days that you were back who had heard it from a friend of a friend and he wasn’t sure if it was true but he wanted it to be. He had called to the number he weirdly remembered by heart and had waited with sweaty hands while it rang, when he heard your voice he felt a strange sense of warm envelop him for the first time in years. 

Joost was eager to see you and felt a nervous at the same time. He knew things ended up badly between the two of you, but the truth is that there really wasn’t any clear line of what you were, so how could there ever be a good ending?. Regardless, now you were back and he felt he could finally face you, if anything he just wanted to know you were doing alright and maybe you had even found someone you loved in the time you were apart, then maybe he could put all his pent up feelings to rest and move on, emphasis on the maybe. 

He had gotten a table at a much nicer restaurant than he thinks the two of you ever went to, in truth those days the best he would do was get take out to your tiny apartment before or right after you had sex. He wonders if he ever properly took you out on a date and the answer is no, he didn’t. He had been immature and self centered without even realizing and you were far too good for him, he didn’t understand why you even wasted your time on him when so clearly many other better candidates were holding out a candle for you and yet you chose him, always.

He arrived earlier than the meeting time, he was bad at timing in those days and he still was, but wanted, no, needed, to make a good impression so he made the effort and waited on held breath until he saw your familiar figure entering the restaurant. You hadn’t changed much and at the same time you were totally unrecognizable, more regal, elegant and beautiful than he remembered. It seemed like you had grown into every one of your features even more dazzling than before and carried yourself with so much grace it felt like you were floating. 

He was taller, maybe it was just you memory playing tricks on you, he had kept the mustache but everything else was different. His hair was longer, cut into a mullet, you remember how he had mentioned wanting one as a child, it is the same color as when you met him, which means he kept dyeing it or had dyed it recently, he was wearing chunky glasses, when you met him he would refuse to and would just walk around half blind, he was dressed differently and he was more handsome than you wanted to admit. It would be a lie to say you didn’t keep an eye on him through the years, secretly proud of his successes and uncharacteristically anxious about his failures. But he had thrown you out and there was no reason to let him know that, answering his call like a good loyal dog was humiliating enough.

“Hi.” He gets up to greet you and speaks all cheerfully, way too excited to contain it, part of him thought you would stand him up which wouldn’t be fully underserved but he is ecstatic that you are actually here.

“Hey.” You reply with a small smile escaping your lips.

He opens his arms, wants to hug you so bad, he has missed you so terribly but you just extend you hand for him to shake. His face drops a little but he composes himself quickly and shakes your hand back with a faked smiled pulled taut on his lips so you won’t see how disappointed he is, your skin is so soft and warm his memories didn’t do you justice.

“You look really beautiful.” He says, it stumbles out of his mouth, he doesn’t know if it is not the right thing to say but he means it, truthfully with the years passing his memory of you had gotten fuzzy and seeing the real you in the flesh in front of him is a lot to take in.

You smile back at him, there is the smallest blush on your cheeks, almost undetectable, back when you first met he would enjoy making you blush over everything and anything it was so easy and he loved pulling your hands away from you face when you tried to hide it.

“You look good yourself Joost.” His hand tightens a little on yours, hearing you say his name sends a wave of nostalgia over him that threatens to knock him over, maybe he wasn’t strong enough to face you but you are here all the same.

He helps you sit, pulls your chair and calls for the waiter. You order and the waiter disappears again after bringing you your drinks, you talk a bit about everything, what you have been up to, what he has been up to, you mention the place you had moved to, how your career had grown, the job you have now, he talks about the places he has been to, the cool artists he has met and the Eurovision thing, he skims right through it even though you know from the whole press and the sad expression on his face that it was a fresh wound. You feel a little sad that he will not talk about it with you, but even in the days when you shared a bed he was so cagey you couldn’t expect him to open up now out of all times, so you just let him change the subject without a fight. 

The dinner feels awkward, not entirely bad but not entirely good either, you had known each other for little under a year so you tried to make the same questions you would for an old acquaintance but it didn’t help that he had gotten more handsome and mature and kept distracting you with his shiny smile. You eat in silence for a bit unsure of what to say, you weren’t old friends but you weren’t exactly strangers either. It was far too weird to try to keep this fake diplomacy with someone who had seen you naked so many times but it was even weirded to try to pull conversation out of him when every word and every question felt like you were walking on shaky ground.

“You-your new album was good.” You say after a while starting to feel the tension is too heavy, your words tumble and crash on each other, you speak too fast, your hands are sweaty and maybe you will faint, but at this point it would be better, a nice dramatic exit to the night and then tomorrow you would change your phone number and never hear from him again.

“You listened to it?” He looks at you genuinely surprised like he didn’t expect it all all, he looks so eager to know what you thought, in the old days music talk was the only time you felt he was really honest with you and this feels so familiar a wave of nostalgia softens you.

“Yeah, I did tell you I liked your music that one time.” You smile at him before looking away avoiding his bright eyes. “And I didn’t say that just to get you in bed mind you.” He laughs.

He had always liked that about you, you had a quick mind and would be able to talk about anything and make it funny, he was happy to hear your stories. Now years later and much learning in between he had finally realized what he had truly lost and it hurt like a thorn deep in his heart. He would dream about you, not often truly, but it happened a few times through the years in a way that made him think about you when it was the last thing he wanted to do. In dreams he would see you impossibly bright, laughing at something stupid he said and by god did he say a lot of stupid things on those days, or in the shower talking about something one of your friends had done, while he just wordlessly admired the soft curves of your figure covered in drops of water, he would see you in bed sleeping with drool coming out of the corner of your mouth that he would wipe before you raised because you would get shy and flustered if you realized on your own when you woke up. He feels his heart swell in a way that it it hasn’t in years, you are sitting across from him looking so pretty under the candlelights, he remembers you younger, sitting on the tiny table at the kitchen of your apartment, stealing food from his plate and laughing at the TV, he wishes he could have kept that forever, the place that felt like home. 

“Are you seeing someone?” He asks all of a sudden, he knows he shouldn’t, he is pushing his luck too far and yet can’t stop himself.

“You don’t get to ask that.” You shake your head.

“We are catching up, right? It is a normal catching up question.” He says with an awkward laugh more trying to justify himself than anything.

You don’t know what to answer, you had obviously had other relationships in the mean time it was not like you were eternally holding hope that one day he would remember the old toy he left hanging somewhere and come back and pick you up, but now of all times you were single. Lying didn’t feel right and telling the truth didn’t either. Maybe somewhere in the middle will do.

“I have been on a few dates.” You say careful with every world, if you had been looking at him instead of avoiding his gaze perhaps you could have seen the way his shoulders dropped but you missed it.

“I see.” He replies drily, regrets the question instantly perhaps he would be better off not knowing.

“What about you?”

“No.”

You crook an eyebrow at him. “Really now Mr. International Superstar?”

He looks up at you, finds you wearing an amused face, perhaps being friends is still okay, no matter how much his heart aches for you he doesn’t want to fully lose you from his life ever again. 

“I’m not the type.” He replies shaking his head lightly, you roll your eyes at him.

“Okay.” You say tone full of sarcasm perhaps it comes out more bitter than you mean it to be, even in the past you had not been together and now you have even less of a reason to give him attitude. 

“I’m serious.” He says a little indignant. “I mean obviously I’ve been with people but I just-” He stops himself halfway through, you look at him even more curious now.

“You just what?” You ask.

“Nothing.” He goes back to dig on his plate.

I just cannot meet someone like you. Is what he leaves unsaid, you shrug and continue eating in awkward silence. He remembers all the things he left unsaid before, how he wanted to but didn’t think you would want to hear it, how he was so unsure of himself he didn’t want to fuck up, too scared of rejection he didn’t even dare try and how because of all that, he lost you and he refuses to let that happen again so he gathers as much courage as he can and says. 

“Actually, I just haven’t met someone like you.”

You choke a little on your food, you can never recall a time where he would ever be so honest and can’t figure out why he would be now, you look at him with wide eyes. Your brain works hard to make sense of what he is saying. You didn’t understand why he wanted you back then and now that he has even more options it makes even less sense, you feel stupid and small again, it makes you angry. You laugh bitterly.

“I’m serious.”

You try to hold back your anger and take a deep breath before replying. “I don’t know I- I wouldn’t know Joost, I don’t really think we ever got to know each other.” You shrug slightly and smile sadly at him.

That hurts him more deeply than you can imagine and the fact that you are right is worse. 

“I always regretted how things happened between us.” He says, sounds truthful enough but you can’t help yourself or the bitter feelings that fill your heart now.

He sounds so far off from the guy you had met, it feels like he might be an entirely different person playing a prank on you, but when you look back at him you see those same baby blue eyes that would find you in the night it sends a pang of pain to your heart.

“It is whatever.” You say, drinking from your glass trying to keep it together. You feel like an idiot right now, you shouldn’t have come, it was a bad idea.

You feel like yourself of four years ago again, and she sucked. She was not very smart and she was so stupidly in love with this guy, she had made you answer his call eager to see him again and now it was you who had to take charge of her bad decisions.

“I really am sorry.” He moves to grab your hand. You feel the back of your eyes prickling uncomfortably, maybe you weren’t so over him as you liked to pretend.

“Okay.” You say, not knowing what else to say as you pull your hand away, his touch feels like it burns. He looks truly regretful, you shouldn’t have blown off the handle like that and you know better than it, but the younger you is so eager to see him again she seems to keep popping out and makes you act unlike yourself.

You finish your meals, still talk about mundane stuff, how moving was a nightmare, he tells you he has moved a bunch, he is an expert and he should write a book about it, he is ridiculous in an endearing way, that hasn’t changed at all. You wish somewhere in your heart that he will meet someone who makes him happy, who can match his wit, who will laugh at his jokes and make sure he eats at least one proper meal a day because you suspect somehow that he still not very good at taking care of himself. You wish well for him because somewhere inside your heart he still has a place and you still feel so much tenderness for him it chokes you up a little bit.

The waiter takes the plates away, Joost pays for your meals and opens the door for you, had he ever been that gentlemanly? No, not really. Again this new version of him seems to be making you dizzy.

“Can I walk you home?” He asks as you exit the restaurant.

“Sure, yeah I would like that thanks.” You accept because if this is the last time you will see him you want to extend it a little more, be a little selfish for your younger self she deserves to stare at him for a little longer so she can finish memorizing all pretty landmarks of his pretty face.

You walk together slowly like you are both trying to prolong the inevitable goodbye as much as you can. He points you to new places that have opened and also the once that closed since you were gone, he recommends some so you can go later, secretly wishes he could be the one to take you there. He misses all the mundane with you, after you he never really got to experience that with anyone else and felt like he didn’t even want to, too scared to muddy his memories with you. The further away from home he got the more he wanted to come back and the more that feeling grew the more he realized he would never again meet someone like you.

In those days you had thought he was a little out of your league, he had though you were a little out of his. You never seemed to quiet connect perfectly like pieces of a puzzle being forced to fit together by greedy hands, now, with more life experience under your belt you wonder if that is even a real possibility and maybe you were just being unrealistic in your expectations. Now, you are looking at him with new eyes and he seems to be a really good guy, not prince charming, not straight out a romance movie but just him, just Joost and that is somehow better than any stupid fantasy. 

He keeps stealing little glances at you like he is trying to commit you to memory, like any moment now you will disappear into a cloud. And maybe he isn’t so wrong you have already done that before and you distantly think if things would have been any different if instead of running away you would have faced him head on, even if it didn’t fix anything it probably would have given you better closure than what you have right now.

He feels this weird soft sadness envelop him the longer he looks at you, your hair is different, there are almost unnoticeable scars on your hands maybe from cooking you were always a little reckless with the knives, your face has grown even more beautiful and he can’t help but feel so lonely when he realizes he missed all of that, that he could have seen you grow and change right in front of him like a little plant on the windowsill and he missed it for his own lack of courage. He sees tiny goosebumps form on your arms, remembers how you were always bad at taking a jacket with you when you went out and that one at least seems to not have changed which makes him smile, you are not a total stranger after all. 

He chucks off his blazer and rests it on your shoulders without a word, you feel his scent envelop you so suddenly that you feel you might truly pass out now. 

This image of you on one of his hoodies sitting on bed while he plays you one of his new songs pops up in his mind so clearly he feels he has turned back time and he truly wishes he could.

“I wish we had met at a different time.” He says not looking at you, he fears if he sees the rejection on your face it will be too much. 

“Yeah? I don’t think you should think like that.” You say kicking a little rock down the street to distract yourself from how overflowed with emotions this whole thing makes you feel.

“How come?” He stops on his tracks to look at you.

“Well, nothing would change, we just wouldn’t work.” You shrug like you are just stating facts it angers him a little truly.

“Well I'm different now, you are too.” He says plainly. 

“You can’t know that from a dinner.” You laugh genuinely for the first time in the night, he hasn’t heard that sound in so long he wants to record it keep it in his heart forever even if you don’t want to talk to him ever again he wants to at least keep that.

“But I can, you are more mature and smarter and more beautiful too.”

You properly snort at that last one even thought he is being honest. You shake your head and turn around to look at him.

“The bleach melted your brain.” You scrunch your nose and raise a hand up to shake the soft strands of hair between your fingers, like you are really friends, like all of this is normal.

Should he try that? If you reject him could he offer being your friend, he really does like you not just having sex with you, like you think, and he thinks you are wicked funny and far too kind, probably kinder than he deserved, specially at that time and if he has a little crush on you it would be okay as long as he kept it to himself, he could also have you in his life. Who knows maybe down the line you could be proper normal friends and perhaps that is what the universe had always envisioned for both of you but you had gone and messed with it by adding love to the mix. 

You find yourself deep into the streets of the city you once loved so much, next to a man you also loved too much for your own good but then all too late you realize you accidentally walked back to your old place, the one where you had been together countless times, you break out into laughter your body doubling over.

“What?” He asks amused looking at you, you can’t reply, this is all so stupid, it can’t be happening. “What? Tell me.” He says rubbing soft circles between your shoulder blades over his blazer to calm you down. 

You look up at him your eyes full of happy tears or perhaps sad, you can’t know. You feel so overwhelmed by everything, you have been so good at holding it in and now you just explode. You are laughing and crying at the same time, you feel like four years of forgotten feelings just bubbled to the surface and you can barely bring yourself to care.

“I don’t live here anymore.” You manage to blurt out, you are wiping away at your tears while still giggling in between so amused by the entire situation it is like it isn’t even happening to you, like this must be a dark comedy movie or something “God this is so ridiculous, this is so stupid!” You say throwing your arms up in the air and shaking your head. 

He thinks you are so beautiful in your wild laughter but he starts getting worried when he sees the tears don’t stop. 

“Hey, it is okay, we will get a cab.” He says taking a step towards you but you take a step back like you are afraid of his touch. 

“No, no.” You shake again, not really knowing what you are saying anymore.

“Hey are you okay?” He is worried now, truly scared, he goes to put a hand on your shoulder then feels you shake with a heavy sob.

“No, I am really not.” You say it in between a bitter laugh as you cover your face with your hands. “I just really wish I had never met you.” You blurt it out before you can stop it and it cuts deep right into his heart, you can see through eyes blurry with tears how Joost’s face drops and goes pale instantly, he lets go of you.

“I’ll get you a cab.” He says, his voice sounds distant, so unfamiliar now. 

The fact that he looks so sad angers you even more, he has no right to be the one hurt when he is the one who threw you away.

“Don’t you wish the same too?” You say in a harsh tone, just wanting him to confirm all your fears, that he was glad he got away from you, that his life was so much better now and he never missed you, never thought of you.

You were looking for a fight, for him to be cruel like he once had been, even though you knew it was not on his nature and he never meant it like that. He takes a deep breath and looks at you like you are asking something so stupid it isn’t even worth answering, he looks like he is about to cry too.

“No, never. I wouldn’t give up meeting you for anything.”

You feel your throat burn with a sob. You stand together in the dark streets silently waiting for the cab, it arrives he helps you in without saying a word and then you are gone. 

He watches the car drive off holding back tears when he sees you disappear around the corner, it hits him, you are gone, you are truly gone and he couldn’t fix anything, he couldn’t solve anything, like every time before he messed it up, he wasn’t enough and now there is no second chance, he already spent all his second chances years before and this was his last one and even when such a long time has passed he didn’t figure it out, didn’t figure you out for as much as he wanted to pretend like he knew you maybe he didn’t at all. 

Joost goes back home alone, showers alone and then falls into bed trying to get some sleep alone, like always. Nothing has changed because nothing could change and maybe he was the only one who hadn’t moved on, the only one who had not grown because you at least were smart enough and strong enough to cut the cord. But he was still pathetically holding onto the memories, onto every word and every touch and every night you spent together without admitting to himself it was all just that, memories and perhaps it should stay in the past, perhaps it is supposed to just be looked back on fondly instead of like him clinging like a scared child to something he doesn’t want to lose. 

The days go by in a blur, he doesn’t really want to get up from bed and he doesn’t really have a reason to, he just stays inside mindlessly watching TV and scrolling his phone, he thinks about calling you, apologizing again but he remembers your words so vividly ringing inside his head, the way your tears shone so brightly in the night, how you regretted him and he can’t bring himself to be an inconvenience in your life again, he knows somewhere in his heart that he has taken enough. Even when he realizes you accidentally left with his blazer on, he doesn’t call, he is too scared again to act so he just sits still and watches as life once again passes him by. He thinks he will get new cards and a new ID which is a pain and he should just text you at least but then if you sent his stuff back without even meeting him, then you would have truly no reason to talk again and even if it is selfish it is a line he is not willing to cut yet, he is not strong enough for that one yet. 

By the fifth day Joost runs out of all the food at home and most importantly of all the beer, the only thing that is helping him sleep. So he decides to venture out, not that he particularly wants to, but he figures some day sooner rather than later he would have to pick up the pieces and start the arduous process of moving on from you, a process he has already delayed by a few years. He leaves home right at lunch time with some spare cash he had around and goes for the supermarket to pick only the essentials, he sees all sorts of people there, old couples and young parents with their kids and it makes him feel all the lonelier, he wishes you were with him, not that the two of you ever did that sort of domestic thing together but he wishes you would have, he thinks it would have been fun, even though in truth anything that involved you would be fun. 

As he is making his way back to his place, bags in hand, his eyes linger on one of the restaurants he had recommended to you and all of a sudden there you are like a mirage, under the umbrella of one of the tiny outside tables surrounded by pink flowers with the sun generously illuminating your sweet face making you look ethereal. You take his breath away, you always do, his feet move before he can think it through he just can’t stand living like this, knowing you are out there and he can’t share in your days, bask in your laughter, drink from your beauty, it will drive him mad. As he crosses the street he can feel the vomit of words brewing at the back of his throat and all of his sentences start with “I’m sorry, please, please give me another chance, please let me prove I can be good for you.” He is not above begging he realizes. 

But before he can talk, before he can even pretend for any longer that his fantasies where you forgive him and take him back will become real, a man approaches you from the other side of the table and as soon as you feel his presence you stand up with a bright smile on your lips, the kind he wishes he could pull out of you, you go to hug the stranger pressing yourself tightly to him. Joost imagines you smell heavenly, you must feel soft, your hair is shiny and you look so pretty and his heart breaks all over again. He is angry, he is angry at this man for daring smile at you, for daring touch you, he is angry at you for using his restaurant recommendations for another guy who isn’t him, but most of all he is angry at himself, he can’t forgive himself for losing you. 

He stays in place watching from where he can’t be seen, just twisting the knife deeper on himself. You are smiling and chatting happily, the way he wished you would have talked to him, and yet it is another man who has your tender eyes glued on him, it is another man who is taking you out for lunch, and it is another man who is making you laugh, not him, never him again, no matter how much he wants it. When you reach to grab your partner’s hands he has to look away, he feels tears start falling from his eyes, he tries to furiously wipe them away but they keep coming, he is drowning in love and lost and the only one who could save him told him she didn’t want anything to do with him. He finally gathers enough strength to walk away, and go back to his empty house to wallow in self pity, all alone again. 

If he had ever paid any attention and ever had put in more care in getting to know you then he would have recognized that other man not as a stranger but as one of your closest friends and he would have realized that you were not in any sort of romantic date but just a real catch up with a friend, the kind you could never have with him because you weren’t really friends. So instead of knowing any of that he continues for more days forming more and more imaginary scenarios inside his head of you with some other guy, you going on dates and holidays together, you going to restaurants and looking pretty under the candlelight, you moving in together and then getting married and then growing old all of which he can’t be part of and it tears his heart to pieces. So he tries to drink himself to sleep trying to catch some dreamless rest that evades him. But even then he is unsuccessful because you appear on every corner of his mind, haunting his every thought and even when he is unconscious you show up laughing in his face, so cute and so out of reach. He remembers you, now more than ever, with a fresh image of what you look like, his memories become clearer, he remembers your face when you slept, every single detail and the expressions you made, he remembers the way you had looked like back when you told him you loved him and how he didn’t say anything back, Why didn’t he say anything back? Was the fear of things being real greater than his love for you? No, of course it wasn’t but at the time he was too stupid to understand that, so now four years later like an idiot he keeps wishing he could turn back time and knowing he can’t. 

That night after you had left Joost you had continued to silently cry on the ride home until at some point without even noticing you stopped, but the ache in your heart didn’t go anywhere it only became more prominent and uncomfortable with each passing day. Younger you had felt devastated she had hoped new you would be mature and smart enough to solve it, solve whatever it was you and Joost had going on. But even age and maturity couldn’t help you when you didn’t even know what you had with him to begin with. And truly this had all been a big mistake you shouldn’t have gone seen him, no matter how much your heart ached for it. You had taken a long shower and gotten in bed in complete silence, too exhausted for anything else and fallen asleep with a dull ache pounding in your heart.

The morning after you had woken up late and with a splitting headache, everything had felt so surreal but when you saw his blazer on your chair you realized it actually did happen. You cursed yourself mentally for not giving it back, for taking it home and now you would have to see him again, but you could also take the easier way out and just have it delivered and avoid the whole interaction. Yet you don’t, he had been honest with you that night, much more than in the almost whole year that you had known him before and now you felt guilty about how bad you had ended the night. You tell yourself it is best to cut things off cleanly this time, so there won’t be an infected wound like last time. So you end up looking inside his wallet for his ID and search his address up, you also find an old note you wrote him once half jokingly “VALID: For one kiss!” it reads, you had given it to him, written on the back of a grocery list, after you accidentally sat on one of his pairs of glasses and crushed them, he had just laughed it off even when you offered to pay but he had kept the piece of paper for some reason, it pains you and makes you want to cry all over again. 

You don’t show up to his house immediately, you can’t. It was one thing to know what you should do as a responsible adult and a completely different thing to actually have the strength to do it. You have to wait some days to gather strength, you keep trying to distract yourself with work and some old friends but it is useless because every time you see his blazer on your chair you think of him and how you wish that instead of coming back to an empty house you were coming back to him sitting on that same chair, smoking cigarettes like he once did in your small apartment.

However, you decide that prolonging the inevitable is only doing you more harm than good so a little over a week after the dinner you show up to his address late in the after noon, right before evening, you had to hype yourself up the whole day to go there and have this conversation, that was assuming he was there. Just your luck when you ring he answers. He opens the door slowly and almost doesn’t belive it is you.

“Hi.” you say shyly. 

He looks rough, he is pale, his hair is messy and his eyes look slightly red like he hasn’t slept, there are also deep dark circles right under his pretty blues that now seem dimmed. 

“Hey.” His voice is shaky and nervous, he holds onto the handle of the door like if he lets go he will crumble right in front of you. 

“Um, I forgot to give it back sorry.” You say raising the blazer in your hand. 

“Oh, it is okay.” He is dumbfounded, after that night he truly didn't expect to see you ever again and here you are. He is looking intently at your face like soon you will disappear, like this is just another one of his dreams he has been having all week where he sees you vanish right in front of him, but you don’t. 

“Can we talk?” You ask with worry in your face, he hates that, hates that every time he is involved you seem to be so on edge. 

“Sure, sure. Come in.” He moves from the door and lets you in, closes the door after you.

“Can I get you something to drink?” He brushes his hair out of his face, is thankful that he even managed to shower and change his clothes, at least today after a week of self pity. 

“Just water thanks.” You say, he walks you to the living room, tells you to sit that he will be back in a second.

You do so, still holding onto the blazer tightly like a lifeline, you look around his place, it is much bigger than what he had in those days, a little less messy but still very much a bachelor house, it makes you a little happy even though you have no right to feel so, he is not yours and he never was, you have to keep reminding yourself. You are only here for closure, only that. 

“Here.” He says sitting on the armchair next to the couch like he wants to give you space and not suffocate you.

“Thanks.” You mumble taking a sip. You let a long minute go by before you open your mouth. 

“I’m sorry about taking your jacket, and your wallet, I promise I didn’t rack up thousands of euros on credit card debt.” You say with the smallest hint of a smile.

That gets a laugh out of him, it is the first time in days he feels anything that isn’t dread and of course the only responsible could be you.

He smiles softly but there is a hint of sadness under it. The air feels heavy with tension and you just want to lighten it up, he looks so sad you want to ask what is wrong but the question dies in your throat not knowing how much you are allowed to overstep. You don’t know what to say but you wish you could sooth him of whatever his worries are, if you were his girlfriend you could comfort him about whatever is bothering him, even if you were only his friends you could offer a helping hand, a kind shoulder to lean on, but since you are nothing you just keep your hands to yourself. 

“That is fine. I wouldn’t mind.” He says, it is a little stupid but he truly wouldn’t, if this was one of those problems you could just throw money at to solve he wouldn’t mind spending millions to get another chance with you. 

“Ah! I forgot you had superstar money, then maybe I should have bought myself a car.” You smile mischievously at him.

He rolls his eyes at you, he knows you wouldn’t but he finds you amusing nonetheless. “You could do whatever you wanted.” 

For some reason it feels like he is not just talking about spending his money and you feel a little shy all of a sudden. You want to fill in the silence before it drowns you. 

“I’m actually sorry for the inconvenience. Did you not need your cards?” You ask, leaving the blazer to the side. 

“No.” He pauses for a moment, thinks his next words carefully. “I just haven’t been going out, I was busy.” Busy thinking about you, busy dreaming about you, busy pining after you, all so I could see you laughing at other asshole’s shitty jokes that aren’t mine. He doesn’t say that, he knows better than to say it but the uneasiness with which you look at him makes him all the more resentful about what he saw that day. 

“I see.” You say, sensing a shift in tone. You fiddle with your fingers as you look around, there are a couple of pictures of him with friends it makes you smile, knowing he has people looking after him, people you recognize, at least some things remain unchanged, at least he is not alone. 

You are distracted seemingly by the walls or not wanting to meet his eyes, whichever it is doesn’t matter because you look so pretty in this light, in any light and you are biting your lip like you always did when you were nervous, it is so reminiscent of old days it envelops him in nostalgia, but you look so different now and at the same time you look like you could belong here, like you could really be his as he is already yours. Like you could wake up in his bed, your bed, and have breakfast together and then say good bye to come back home to dinner with you and shower together and fall asleep in each other’s arms and then wake up and do it all over again, because you can.

And he distantly wishes he was a different man, the kind that could actually have those things with, the kind you could actually introduce to your friends and the kind you would be so happy to see like the guy at the cafe. He furrows his eyebrows, he doesn't want to think about that but the doubt itches in his mouth and he sort of wants you to confirm all his worst fears, that yes that other guy is the love of your life, that you couldn’t be happier, that he is so much better than Joost, that Joost has always been way beneath you and that you will soon get married and have the life you have always wanted, the kind of life he could never give you. He wants to be put out of his misery and stop holding any hope that you will want him ever again so he doesn’t stop himself before speaking and breaking the uncomfortable silence no matter how much it makes him feel like he is walking to his own execution. 

“I saw you at the new restaurant the one near the supermarket the other day” He takes a small pause until he sees you make eye contact then continues. “With your boyfriend.” The word comes out bitterly from his mouth making him uncomfortable with every syllable. 

You look at him a little puzzled, have to make an effort to remember what he is talking about, then when you come up with the answer you break in laughter throwing your head back at his misunderstanding. 

He is even more confused, he is hurt now, it is one thing for you to have a boyfriend and it is another to rub it in his face and laugh at him for still being so stupidly in love with you, he feels so dumb and inadequate but then you finally stop giggling and look at him from under long eyelashes with a warm smile while shaking your head and he forgets why he was even angry in the first place. 

“That is my friend, we were classmates in university.” You explain still between fits of laughter. 

“Oh,” Is all that he manages out. 

“Oh?” You repeat raising your eyebrows and looking at him amused, you scoot closer in the couch to get a better look at his face, he is blushing so prettily. 

“Were you jealous Joost?” You crook your head to the side playfully, still so amused at how mortified he looks, he doesn't even want to meet your eyes. 

“Tell me~” You say in a sing song voice as you go even closer to him.

He wants to melt into the floor and avoid this, he feels so childish in his fit of jealousy now and all the sleepless night he spent having nightmare about your wedding day to some guy that isn’t even your boyfriend. He finally takes a deep breath, still feels his skin burning hot with embarrassment but he makes the effort to look at you. 

“Yes I was.” He admits, he doesn’t know why exactly he is so eager to admit it, it is not like he has the right to be jealous, but you had said “Tell me.” and how could he ever deny you anything? He covers his face with a hand faking a cough so you won’t see how deeply red he has turned, but you do notice and you are still smiling at him. He likes this, he likes you, he likes having you close like this, even when you are laughing at him, he could be your jester he thinks distantly, he would be okay living like that as long as he could stay by your side. 

You pull back further away and relax into the couch, he wishes you would have stayed closer, he swears he could smell your perfume or maybe it was just wishful thinking. You both just sit in silence for a while not saying anything but finally the silence doesn’t feel daunting it just feels good, like there is finally some peace. You wish you could stay like this longer but any more indulging in these scenarios of the past and what ifs and you won’t want to leave his side, so you take a deep breath before trying to say anything. You turn your face to look at him and find him already watching you, it make you blush lightly but you still speak up. 

“Joost I’m really sorry about that night, I shouldn’t have said that.” You don’t turn your eyes away even when you want to, so overwhelmed by how penetrating his eyes feel on your face, you hold his gaze so he will know you are being sincere. 

“Oh, that is okay.” He says, his tone is nervous now, you can tell he is forcing a smile but you shake your head. 

“It was mean and unnecessary I shouldn’t have, I’m really sorry.”

He shrugs slightly, he wishes you weren’t having this conversation now, he wanted to keep playing pretend in his head of what it would be like to have you here in his living room day after day always and forever without even talking because silence is just comfortable between you two.

“If you meant it, it is all good. You were just honest.” He swallows deeply trying to sooth his nerves. 

Why was he so kind of all a sudden? Who was this man? The more time you spend with him the less you felt you knew him, it frustrated you somehow.

“I was just cruel but I didn’t think it would hurt you.” You say a little defeated.

“Why would you think that?” He asks genuinely, there is no hint of anger or sadness in his tone, just genuine curiosity like he genuinely doesn’t know.

You look up at him and shrug slightly. “I didn’t think you cared about me enough for it to hurt.”

That is his fault fully and he just has to live with it but it doesn’t make it hurt any less. 

He gets up, moves to sit next to you on the couch, whatever happens is okay but you have to know how he really felt, you have to know how much he really cared for you no matter how unable he had been to show you, you at least deserved it now.

“Can I be honest?” You look at him and nod, don’t trust yourself to speak right now, feel like tears might start streaming form your eyes any second.

“I really did like you, back then.” He stops for a second, wants to grab your hand but knows better.

“I actually loved you.” He says in a painful sigh. Your heart squeezes painfully. 

“When you said it, I didn’t know what to do, I was stupid and didn’t say anything, I thought you would be there as long as it took me to say it back.” He shakes his head, feels so disappointed in his younger self.

“Obviously not, I was idiotic and selfish and you deserved better than that.” He smiles bitterly knowing nothing that had happened could be changed.

You have to swallow hard to get yourself to speak. “Why did you call me?” You ask shaky voice, eyes shining with tears threatening to spill over.

“I really missed you.” He shrugs a little and smiles sadly. “I wasn’t lying there really is no one else like you.”

Your hands are trembling on your lap, you feel stuck, you can’t move, can’t speak and can barely breath you are dissolving into his living room couch, he recognizes the signs all too well from experience and grabs at your hand, holds tight while searching for your eyes.

“I’m here.” He says, his voice feels like it is coming from underwater.

“Look at me.” You force yourself to do so, you realize at some point you had started crying, he pulls your hand softly to his chest and splays your fingers on it.

“Breath with me okay?” You nod and follow as he does. 

He takes deep breathes, keeps the air inside and then exhales slowly, you focus on the feeling, try to follow the best you can, you focus on his eyes he is looking deeply at you, blue was always your favorite color or it became after him, you are not too sure.

After what feels like hours of slow breathing you finally feel your heart beating a little slower. All of a sudden you feel so tired, you still feel like you are slowly coming down to earth. You let your head fall on his chest, hear his heart calm and slow, he feels like a rock you can cling to when you feel like drowning. In some more minutes you get your heart to match his.

“I really did love you Joost.” You whisper against him, now his heart picks up, you can feel it in the palm of your hand, like it is your own and in a way it always did belong to you even if you didn’t know.

“I still love you.” He says.

You raise your head from his chest, look into his eyes. 

“Can we try again?”

You don’t answer, you can't, you don’t know what to say truly so you just kiss him. It feels new and familiar at the same time, but undeniably him. 

He feels his heart stop, has thought about this scenario so many times through the years of your absence, has dreamed about it and found solace on imagining it when he felt his loneliest but the reality is all the sweeter. You are really here in front of him kissing him deeply holding at his shoulders like he will slip away but he now knows there is no better place on this earth than in your warm embrace. He reacts belatedly, he wraps his arms around your middle holding you closer, chest against chest you can feel each other so real that it is scary and exciting all at the same time. 

Four years of pent up feelings wash over you, you can’t get enough you chase after his lips drink from his touch. It feels so familiar and delicious like getting home after a long vacation but also so different like you are new lovers just learning each others’ bodies for the first time. You make a move to sit on his lap but stop unsure if you should but he is so sweet and he helps you brings you closer kisses at you neck, takes a deep whiff of your scent. Your perfume is not the same you used to use but underneath it is the aroma of your skin, undeniably you and it spurs him on. 

You are making out on the couch like teenagers, almost like all the times you did in your tiny apartment but this time is his place and everything that surrounds you feels so much like him in a way that makes you lightheaded, back when you first met you had only been to his place a couple of times and it seemed like you weren’t allowed to look but now you are drinking in every detail with curious eyes as he kisses on your throat. Hands are grabbing all over each other, neither of you can get enough, he feels sturdier, his arms seem bigger, the little tickling of the mustache is the same, he feels so warm you want to melt into him forever. You pull back from the heated kisses and make move to pull your shirt off but he stops you putting his hands over yours at the hem of the garment. 

“Wha-” You look so confused and almost frustrated with him, if he tells you to leave you don’t think you could live down that humiliation. 

But he is looking at you with so much lust, love and nostalgia all mixed into his deep blue eyes. 

“I want to- bed” His words are jumping all over the place, he is trying so hard, has waited so long for this, truly didn’t think it would happen again but now he has you and he wants to take his time. “Can I take you to bed?” He ask it sounds weird, barely makes sense and yet you understand him perfectly. 

“Please do.” You say kissing him again and smiling against his lips.

He lifts you up easily and quickly, he grabs at your thighs from below the curve of your ass, wants to feel you up higher but is still anxious that he will scare you off, that all of this will become too real for you and you will scurry away like running water between his fingers. But you just hold him tighter as he walks to bed, his eyes stay on yours almost entranced on your face. When you finally make it to his bedroom he lets you down softly on the bed, he is so grateful for once he remembered to make it in the morning and just his luck today he also changed the sheets. 

You are a divine sight he drinks you in, lips kissed red and face so deep with lust laying on his bed staring up at him waiting, a sight he thought he would never get to see again, he wants to burn this moment in his memory forever, he just blinks slowly at you and looks. 

“Joost, come here.” You finally say when you see him just staring at you like he is in a daze. 

He crawls on bed on top of you, slowly, still so unsure. Maybe he has craved you so much he has been hallucinating this whole thing but you grab at his arms and pull him closer to start planting little kisses on his jaw, his breath picks up, he closes his eyes to focus on the feeling of your soft lips, you grab at his face with your hands pull him closer to your lips, you kiss him deeply, he opens his mouth for you you push your tongue in slowly feeling him, just tasting him. He still smokes you can tell, if you work your brain extra hard you could guess it is still Camels. You smile to yourself, you can remember so many little things about him like he had never truly left your heart at all. 

He sucks on your tongue, he wants to eat you whole, you taste delicious, you feel delicious at some point his hands make their way to your waist and now he has you against his chest again rubbing softly at the inch of skin that your shirt ridding up allows him. He feels so hot you feel so hot, your skin is so tender and soft it is better than he remembers, he wonders if you still use the same lotion you did back then. He grabs at the hem of your shirt looks up at you for confirmation and you nod. He lifts it up drinking in every inch of skin that his eye can reach, there you are, it is still you. 

There are tan lines on you, he wonders where you went on vacation, he spent his last one in France, he went to a nice place by the beach, the kind that you would like, he wonders if you would let him take you there, just the two of you, already dreams of what you would look like wet from the ocean and glistening with the sun. 

“Your mind is elsewhere, should we reschedule?” You say teasing him with a smirk. 

And that hasn’t changed either. “If we stop I might die.” He pulls his shirt up, is already feeling so hot he might get heatstroke just from looking at you. 

“Hey! Don’t do that. I want to undress you too.” You complain soft scowl and cute little pout on your lips, he wonders if you ever realize just how charming you are to him. 

“I’ve missed you.” He says in a whisper against your lips as he cages you between his arms again. 

“Well you have me.” 

You grab at his neck pulling him down on top of you, your legs are tangled with his, his breath is deep, he is holding his weight on his forearms, doesn’t want to crush you but you want to feel him all over you, you want to take everything he has to give you. He kisses along your jaw softly reaches at your neck and starts planting a delicious trail of open mouthed kisses down your throat, bites softly at your collar bones, you pull away laughing at it but he holds you closer to him. He places kisses all over the skin on your shoulder then down to your chest and buries his head in the valley of your breasts, you giggle, he always had his fixations and this one hasn’t changed at all. His hands are playing with the band of your bra shyly swiping his fingers underneath as he continues to kiss you. 

He looks up at you resting his cheek on one of your breasts. “Can I?” He has the worst case of puppy eyes ever, it reminds you why it was so hard to say no to him. 

“I’m yours.” You smile softly at him pulling your fingers between strands of his soft hair. 

He looks so baffled. So overwhelmed with emotion he becomes that he quickly raises from where he is and crashes into your mouth pushing you into bed almost too hard.

“Lifde.” He whimpers against your lips before kissing you deeply, like he is trying to convey years of unsaid things in just one kiss. 

His hands roam softly on your back, you feel so warm. Finally he reaches for the clasp of your bra and unhooks it without separating from your mouth for a second like if he did he would drown. The garment falls down your arms, he admires your soft forms mouth agape and eyes shiny. He reaches a hand to massage at your breast, he is hypnotized by the way the fat gives under his finger tips, by the heat of your skin, the way your nipples pebble immediately at the first touch like your body recognizes him and comes back to life. 

“You are so beautiful.” His voice is deep and heavy with lust, your legs wrap around his hips and pull him closer just to share in his heat. 

He continues playing softly with your mounds, goes to kiss at the thin skin, wraps his lips around your nipples and sucks softly until he has you whining and pushing your chest against his face, his big hands holding at your middle pulling you against him just holding you impossibly closer to him like he wants to dissolve inside your ribcage listening to the beat of your heart forever. You feel him so hard under you, his length pressing right against your own core through the layers of fabric, your hips start grinding against his without even meaning to, moving on its own like your body recognizes his and has missed him so much, moving solely on instinct you don't even have to think. 

Your cunt is throbbing with desire, you feel yourself so wet, the fabric of your panties sticking uncomfortably to you. It feels so hot and you just want tot touch him directly. 

“Joost.” You mewl under him trying to get his attention but he continues licking incessantly at your nipples pinching and pulling lightly with his hands to the sensitive skin. 

Your hands are at his shoulder grabbing tightly but when you see he is not even listening you move them downwards one hand going between the two of you to palm him through his jeans. He moans around your nipple at the contact and then sucks harder trying to get as much of your flesh in his mouth as he can. You continue to stroke him lightly then stronger, faster, you feel him moaning and bucking his hips into your touch, chasing after the friction when you tighten your grip he all of a sudden stops his bucking hips and pulls away from you, leaving your nipples covered in his spit, swollen and shiny on the light of his room. 

“If you keep going I’m gonna cum in my pants.” He says truthfully looking up at you with big eyes. You laugh, he is so blunt and honest, it is still hard to get used to it but it is so terribly endearing.

“Not like it would be the first time.” You say grinning wildly. 

“Liefde.” He whines scrunching his eyebrows and letting a soft blush adorn the high of his cheekbones. “That was one time and I was drunk.” He is turning an ever deeper shade of pink right in front of your eyes, you distantly wonder if anyone else is able to make him melt like this, if anyone is able to tease all these reactions out of him and you remember his words “There really is no one else like you.” and you smile to yourself contently. 

“Take them off.” You say going for the zipper of his pants and dragging down, he lets you, he feels like he can barley breath seeing you almost naked on his bed and undressing him is a dream he thought would never come true again. 

He helps you pull the pants down and kicks them off bed along side his boxers that are sporting a big wet spot right at the tip of his erection. Then he goes to grab at the waist of your jeans and undoes the button before pulling down softly watching your beautiful legs emerge from the fabric. His hands go to your legs slowly inching upwards, massaging the soft muscle, feeling the smooth skin. You lay back down and just stare at him, he has some new tattoos, he has gained some wight, his chest hair is still there but is darker now same as the happy trail and all the beauty marks you remember and the ones you don’t as well. He has changed and he is still in there somewhere, recognizable but different and even better because this time it is real and not just pretend. 

He bends down to place kisses at your thighs almost reverent like you are a divinity that has wondered into his house. He keeps moving higher up until he is right at your core, he kisses over the fabric of your underwear then looks up at you, you nod approvingly before he moves to part your legs. He grabs at the back of your thighs and quickly pulls you closer to him. Gets in the middle and starts planting kisses all over your legs and between them, the skin is so soft there he tries to rub his face against it as covertly as he can and fails miserably because you are looking directly at him seeing how eager and needy he is just makes you hotter. 

He kisses over the lace of your underwear, his lips are plump and soft, you hated to admit it but nobody gave head like him. He truly enjoyed it, the closeness, the wet feel on his mouth the scent of your core deep in his nose in an addicting way. He kisses and licks through the fabric and your hips are pushing against his face, he goes to hold you down, he wants to take his time remembering every place, every tender touch that had you melting into his mouth. His eyes are closed and eyebrow scrunched in complete concentration. He is licking through the fabric applying sweet pressure on your clit but holding you tightly by the hips so you will let him set the pace. Little curses escape your lips as you whine into the air for him. “More Joost more.” You plead looking down at him with big wet eyes. He opens his eyes slowly, can barely make contact from his position but he wants to look at you all the same, wants to give you everything and anything you ask for.

He moves the fabric to the side and takes a deep lick into your core that has you twitching on his mouth, he spreads your folds open with his fingers and sucks your clit between his lips as you moan uncontrollably. When you both would do this in your apartment he would have to cover your mouth with one hand as he worked the other deep inside you because you were so deliciously loud all the way through, but you got complaints form the neighbors on more than one occasion that had you furiously blushing red even if to him it just filled him with pride that he could make you scream his name so loud; however now at his place you can be as loud as you want, as vocal as you can, he eats your sounds up and it pushes him forward, makes him suck at your clit harder feeling it twitch between his lips, makes him lick deeper like his jaw is not going to ache but for your pleasure any discomfort is worth it. He pushes his ring finger inside of the tender muscle of your core and feels you clamp down on him immediately, so needy and so sensitive already. He thinks it is a pity you mustn’t have had anyone to do this for you all these years when it should have been him always ready and mouth eager to please you. 

He pushes another finger into you, your hips rock hard against his hand like you are trying to get him deeper. You taste delicious, it is better than his fantasies, it is all you. His finger pump deep into you as he keeps trying to reach that spot that used to have you melting and when he finally finds it you all but scream and curse, there are tears falling from your eyes but it is all from pleasure and you look so beautiful, his eyes are glued on your face he wants to make sure he is making you feel good, making it worth your time now that you have give him this chance. He sneaks a hand upwards softly caressing your belly up to your chest and grabbing at one of your breasts and softly massaging feeling the pebbled nipple between his finger still wet form his spit and so hard begging for attention, he pinches at the sensitive skin and feels your cunt react immediately gushing on his fingers. His mouth is still connected to your sensitive bundle of nerves but you feel him moaning wildly, see how he is humping against the mattress, there is a wet spot of his pre-cum on the bedding that he doesn’t seem to care about, all but hypnotized with your pretty face and lascivious sounds. 

You take his hand, the one that is kneading at your chest, and pull it towards your mouth, you grab at his fingers and put them in your mouth letting the soft wet muscle of your tongue slide between them before you close your lips and suck greedily around them, it goes straight to his dick, he has to make a superhuman effort to not finish right then and there, he moans so deeply right against your clit you can feel your orgasm threatening to wash over you any second but you don’t want it like this, you want to feel him, now that you finally have him you want it all. 

You pull his fingers out of your mouth wet and shiny with spit and pull yourself slightly from his embrace before speaking in labored tone.

“Joost come here, kiss me.” 

He slowly pulls away from you with a slightly confused expression, he pulls his finger out of you softly but you still wince when you feel how empty you are without them. He crawls over you, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and asks. 

“Was it bad?” He looks genuine and a little disappointed. 

You laugh, that he could ever think that when you are all but melting on his palms and you were one shy lick away from coming in his mouth. 

“You are the best but I want to cum with you.” You explain. 

You cup his face on your hands and pull him into a deep kiss tasting yourself on his tongue it so erotic and nostalgic it makes you feel like you are in that tiny apartment so many years ago. You pull away slightly and sit up on bed, and pull your underwear down your legs.

His dick hangs heavy between his thighs, the tips is red and glistening with pre-cum you bite your lip in anticipation. Even if you liked to pretend like you didn’t, you had seen him just like this naked and ready for you on your dreams many times over the years but now you finally had him in front of you and you were so hungry for it. You take him in your palm stroke softly  at the velvety skin, feel him twitch under your touch, you bend down a little and look at him through half lidded eyes. 

“Can I?” You ask already licking your lips in anticipation, you have missed him so much he was always so vocal you want to hear his pretty sounds again, feel his warmth on your tongue and the way he fills your mouth.

 He looks at you with eyes full of adoration and caresses at your cheek with tattooed knuckles.

“I would love nothing more liefde, but if you do that I won’t last at all.” He says smiling brightly. His younger self would have probably bragged about his endurance then avoided even looking at you to not cum too fast but the man in front of you right now is so honest, he is naked but more than anything you feel he has stripped his soul bare, all for you. 

“Okay, yeah.” You nod stupidly, you don’t know what to say, he keeps dolling out loving words onto you and it is frying your brain slowly. You push your hair behind your ear to distract your hands. “How do you- how do you want me?” You ask timidly feeling shy all of a sudden like it is your first time and the way he is being so gentle and loving it might as well be. 

“Can you lay back down for me?” He asks, you nod and slowly, lay on bed again waiting for him. You don’t know what to do with your hands, you just rest them on your chest and feel how rapidly your heart is beating, you start getting shy all of a sudden. He looks so beautiful so grown, his arms are bigger, his face is more handsome, he feels like a stranger and you start getting timid that perhaps you don’t know him at all. He sees the hesitation in your eyes and asks softly as he caresses at your cheek. 

“Are you with me?”

“Yeah, yeah.” You nod affirmatively and smile fondly. “I just- I can’t belive it is you.” 

He knows what you mean, he feels it himself. It is all so new but so old and rehearsed at the same time, he knows you, he knows it is you, and yet he also feels in awe of the person you have become while he was gone from your life. 

He nods overwhelmed with emotion to speak. You see how his eyes get shiny, you reach for his arms and feel the warm muscle beneath your palms as you pull him closer. You kiss at his cheek, at the corner of his lips, at the stray tear that escapes him. 

“You okay? We can stop if you want to.” You whisper softly massaging at the muscle of his shoulders. 

He shakes his head, sniffles softly and kisses you. “I am better than ever before” He says finally smiling ear to ear.  

“Okay.” You say smiling and laying back down. 

You spread your legs for him, he comes closer in the space between your thighs, you can feel the heat emanating from his body just a breath away. He grabs at your thighs and wraps your legs around his waist, now you are flush, your sexes barely touching it feels like kissing. His hand moves from the muscle of your thigh slowly up your belly resting on your navel, he is just feeling you, trying to memorize the feel of your body under him all over again. He looks at you and you nod at him, sometimes there is no need for words. 

He grabs his length in one hand and pumps himself a couple times before he lines himself up with you entrance. He pushes in you slowly, his bulbous tip catches on the wet warm muscle of your hole that all but flutters around him. Inch by inch he melts in your heat, his eyes stay on yours all the way to the point you have to look away to stay sane but he pulls you back with one gentle hand on your chin so he can see you, he has missed you so much, it has been so long, he has not stopped thinking about you for a single moment and he refuses to lose another minute. When he finally bottoms out he takes a deep breath and rest his forehead against yours, his skin is shinny with sweat and you must feel yours is too but you are too concentrated on the way his lips are but an inch from yours, how his breath is so warm and you are breathing it in, he becomes the air that you breath. 

Joost finally starts to move after a long minute of just feeling himself inside you, how your warm walls cling to him and pulse all around his length, he pulls away softly but not fully, his tip stays inside your heat before he pushes back in in swift motion. He had never been a selfish lover but now he seemed absolutely laser focused on your pleasure only, thrusting deeply inside you in fast hard motion then pulling out painfully slow, you keep gushing around him feeling yourself become closer to the edge by the second. He keeps his eyes trained on yours all the way. He caresses at the skin of you cheek and you chase his touch completely shameless pushing your head against his hand to feel more of him. You are moaning into each other’s mouths, drinking in each other’s sounds. 

He feels he won’t last long, he sits up slightly leaving you so lonely without his lips but you forgive him when his hand goes to the middle of your legs and he spreads your lips apart to press constant circles on your hard clit sending waves of pleasure up your spine. 

“You feel amazing schat.” He says when you clench on him at the added stimulation.

“I thought about you all the time.” He whimpers with a deep thrust.

“I can't believe I get to do this with you again I didn’t think it would happen.” He confesses as he pulls out, he can’t seem to stop his mouth.

“I’m never letting you go.” He thrust deeply into you again, your clit twitching under his thumb you feel your orgasm quickly building again all around him, walls pulsing wildly as he moves inside you. 

His words have you dizzy, his dick inside you feels divine pushing and pulling at your sensitive walls and his relentless deft fingers on your clit are threatening to send you over the edge any second, you think he must feel it the way you are throbbing on his length and gushing all over his cock. 

“I’m close Joost, don’t stop.” You whimper. 

He keeps the same rhythm that is quickly bringing you to your peak. You look so beautiful, your skin is covered in sweat, you hair is wild and tussled on his pillows, on his bed, your body splayed so beautifully on his mattress, he feels like you belong here, he wants you to belong here with him forever. He can’t stop the words from spilling from his mouth. 

“I love you.”

You cum, you gush all over him, clenching impossibly tighter on him, so much it makes his own hips stutter. Wild tears fall from your eyes as your hips move on their own trying to ride the rest of your high on him, you are breathing heavily you can only hear the pump of your blood on your own ears, you feels like you are falling back to earth rapidly. 

He still feels the beautiful spams of your release on his length as he watches stupefied how you cum and stays still while you ride your high on his dick just letting you enjoy your pleasure and catch you breath. Then he bends down to be closer to you, to kiss at your pretty lips. 

“Just a little more schat.” He promises against your ear, you nod dumbly unable to speak at all, you feel like he is taking you through a perpetual never ending orgasm that washes all over your body. 

His movements get more uncoordinated but he is still chasing his high as he holds you in tender hands, he keeps whispering soft words at you and little i-love-yous accompanying every move, you don’t really reply, you can’t, so you just kiss him back softly. He lets you, now it is you who needs time and if anything the years have made him more patient, not perfect but just better and you are worth all the wait it takes. 

He is hypnotized by the sight, by the way your bodies melt into each other the way your core keeps dripping sweet honey all over him, he knows you were made for each other, he wants you to know it too. He lets go of your thighs and goes to grab at your neck lifting your head softly from where it rests on the pillows. 

“Look” He says, his voice sounds like he is right inside your head.

He angles your head so you see where you are connected, you see his length disappear inside you and then see him again as he pulls out over and over again like waves crashing on the beach.

“Hold your legs for me.” You can’t reply, you become hypnotized by the sight as well, you wrap your hands around your knees and do as he says, he could probably talk you into anything right now. 

He leans over almost folding you in half, your muscles will be sore tomorrow but right now the stretch is so delicious you feel like you are alive for the first time in a long while all your nerves standing on fire.

“Look, we were made for each other.” He says all gone, completely lost in pleasure and the way you all but melt around him he might be right. 

You look up at him and he does the same, your eyes lock as his hips thrust deeply into you one last time as he comes deep into your walls painting everything with his thick release, he moans your name loudly, his hips stutter into yours, all uncoordinated with the last of his release, you hold onto him like he is a life vest, he almost closes his eyes from pleasure but makes the effort to keep them trained on your face all through it. 

“I love you.” He whimpers with a last thrust and you pull his face to yours to kiss him. 

He collapses onto you, his weight feels delicious if only a little suffocating, but you caress at the tired muscles of his arms, at his back, at his shoulders and neck as you slowly bring him down to earth to you again. You feel his heart beating rapidly inside his ribcage and his breaths are shallow as he tries to compose himself. You hold him through all of it and play with the hair at the nape of his neck that you have missed so much. You feel him soften inside you but you wish you could stay like this forever, eternally connected. 

Finally he gathers what little strength he has left and rolls over onto his back next to you in bed. He is still breathing heavy but he looks over at you so enamored, he brushes the hair away from your face to look at your properly as if he is doing it for the first time and you give him a smile in return. All blissed out and fucked out you truly are an angel come to life on his bed and he can’t fully belive it yet.

After a long moment just breathing slowly and looking at you he swallows deeply and pulls himself together for what he now knows he has to do. He rolls on his side so he can look at you better and you can feel he has something to say so you follow and do the same watching him expectantly. He clears his throat before speaking. 

“I really meant it, can we try again?” He asks looking deeply into your eyes. 

“I don't know.” You say honestly, seeing him was great, it would be a lie to say there weren’t butterflies in your stomach but you didn’t know what to do with that. 

“We can start from scratch.” He offers, you laugh at that. 

“Yeah how? We already know each other.” You say, he shakes his head.

“We have changed a lot.” He is right, he has become so mature you barley recognize him at all and you are also not the same it would be unfair to say so. 

“So what do we do?” You ask truthfully looking at him expectant. 

The Joost you had met would have probably shrugged and changed the topic but the one right now in front of you smiles back, pretty dimples adorning his face and says.

“I am Joost Klein, born and raised in Friesland, I am 26, I am a dancer, video editor, rapper and international super start amongst others, nice to meet you.”

He extends his hand at you waiting for you to shake it.

You think about it for a second, seeing his pretty eyes looking at you all sparkly and sweet, it takes you right back to the first time you met but now you are both so different it truly feels like it happened a life time ago. There is no point in thinking about it anymore, those people no longer exist, whatever they did is not part of today anymore and more importantly they were a little bit stupid.

So you extend your hand to shake his, the skin feels warm and still so soft. You like him, you think you do, maybe it is nostalgia, maybe in a few weeks, maybe in a few months you will realize this is not what you want and maybe that is okay, but right here right now he is looking at you full of hope and you want to share some of it, so you pull yourself closer let him wrap his arms around you and kiss him deeply. Tonight the sky is full of stars and you feel the nice warmth of his body lull you to sleep. You can dream in his embrace of a good future were you actually figure it out together and who knows maybe this time you can because this time he loves you and he actually says it. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

MASTERLIST *ੈ✩‧₊˚ A/N: Thank you so much for reading this ended up being very long! Let me know your thoughts/comments pls and sorry for any mistakes my brain is fried lol! -`♡´-

[squiddy-god]

Captured

(King! Malleus x reader)

Re upload from terminated blog squid-god-supreme, so the way that this is written, kind of makes it confusing, but basically Malleus is king, reader is not yuu, I wrote this based on a piece of art that I saw that I doubt I will ever be able to find again, but I want to so bad, because it was so good

CW : a little bit of Yan! Malleus, implied kidnapping, short.

Maybe old legends have merit, to not cry wolf, to not throw stones in glass houses, and most of all not to trust cold hands that spin sweet tales, or the elegant faces of looming fairies. Yes most of all to not trust a gift to be given without a price to be paid.

To not drink wine brewed with magic and desire, and to not eat bread with hungring beasts. To not catch the eye of a king long broken by a lonely heart. Yes, that rule of old is most hallowed of all. 

Perhaps the head atop which sat a gilded crown thought of guilt. Thought to ask not your forgiveness with empty words but how to make it right. 

Atop that head and obsidian tresses cascading like rivers black however, was a pair of horns. That head thought not of guilt but of joy that the heart beating behind cageing ribs would now be devoid of loneliness.

Rivers of tar colored feathers gave way to a silhouette slender and looming. Like the moon he, the lonely king, loomed over the sleeping body of the one he fancied his lover. How so enchanting candle light sculpted your face, and how so haunting was the glass goblet reflecting that same light. 

How gentle the fabric lye on your body, so still but so warm. How harsh the red spill of that wine on the floor.   

he had you now, captured and tricked by the gift he gave. He, the lonely king of fairies and of thorns had you now his slumbering lover, his sleeping beauty from old tales of love. 

As the scene removed from glamor once again showed only your small cottage and the candles flickered out to wisps of smoke, the lonely king took up into his arms the dreaming form of his dream come true.

And when you awake you will truly be at the castle he spoke of, and the lovely illusion he showed you will be illusion no more.

Yes heed tales of caution, do not deal with fae folk. Do not dance in moonlight with that shadowed figure tall and slim, do not trace the curves of his grooved horns or sip the wine his cold hands offer. Do not hear the tales he tells as before your eyes your home becomes his. Do not seit his lonely heart no matter how it may ache for he may wish and dream to whisk you away. 

Heed these tales as the wine passes your lips and the glass falls to the floor alongside you. As the magic fades with your vision and your cottage returns from castle walls never truly having left. As that figure you've befriended, that lonely king you've loved, looms at the dream he's now captured.

[screaminglygay]

KINKTOBER day 4

pairing: witch!wanda x fem!reader

summary: trick or treat? definitely a treat!

warnings: smut!!!, dark!wanda, dubcon!!, anal, overstimulation, edging, grooping, kinda voyeurism, inserting tentacles, over all dark themes! if you find anything else - I’ll add it!

words count: 3.6k

an: to be honest im not really sure what i did here, umm this fic was written with the biggest block ever, so I do apologize, also it wasn’t proofread, so yeah

(italics = your thoughts)

!MDNI!

Enjoy this spooky time and be safe!

"I´m coming! Just a minute," was heard on the other side of the door as soon as you knocked. Every second bring your body more anxiety, so you try to shake it off by fidgeting with your ring.

After few minutes the door finally opens - and a pretty tall lady, with red hair and aboslutely georgous black dress smiles at you. Your eyes scan her whole look under a second and you look back into her eyes. Her emerald green eyes, framed by long, dark lashes, glisten with a captivating emotion. Her gaze is drawing you in with a mysterious charm. These stunning green eyes seem to reflect the beauty, but also the mystery that comes with the readhead infront of you.

"Trick or treat!" you say as you smile back at her.

"Oh sweetheart," now it´s her turn to look you up and down. Her smile is raplaced by a confusion. "um... and what are you supposed to be?" The redhead tilts her head.

"I- uh a witch." You try to answer with confidence, as you bring your wand up to show her your full fit.

You wouldn´t win an award for the best costume this Halloween, but you tried and everything is homemade, so you should definitely get some bonus points for that. Full black outfit with some spider webs around your torso sounded like a good idea, but maybe it was really hard to tell who are you trying to be.

"Oh- i see now." She nods, but you can see the disappointment in her face. She throws some candy into your bag, but you notice right away that it was only a licorice sweets, which is the worst thing she could give you. "Where is the rest of your group?" She asks as she looks behind you as if she´s waiting for someone else to come.

"Uh... it´s just me. No one wanted to go with me, since they think my outfit sucks." You sigh as you look down, deep down feeling like they might be right.

"Oh no, sweetheart. None of that." She steps closer and her soft fingers touches your chin, lifting it for you to make eye contact with her. "How about I´ll help you with your outfit and at the end of the night you´ll have every candy you ever dreamed off?" Her fingers gently caressing your chin.

"Really?" Your eyes spark with excitement. So much excitement.

"Come on in." The redhead let go of your chin and steps away from the door so you can come inside.

"Thank youuu-" Your eyes met hers again.

"Please call me Wanda." She smiles.

"Thank you, Wanda." You smile back.

As you come inside you can notice that her house is magnificent, everywhere you look you can see architectural details and many ornate decorations, especially on the stairs. It feels kinda like a labyrinth of richly hued tapestries, ornamental vases, and mirrors that capture the light just perfectly. Every corner of the house is a organized, with towering bookshelves that look like a billion dollars worth collection of books, with lots of knowlage in them. The overall ambiance is like a old charm, a sensations of history and elegance. To be honest you wouldn´t be shocked if an 150 old lady lived here, not a beautiful young lady like Wanda.

"Ohh so you like witches too?" You look through her library, reading some of her book titles.

Spells - and everything that comes with them, Spreading your power, Flying around the world: positions, Potions - third edition (extremly addicting)...

Wanda hums as she watches you being interest in her books. "I wrote most of them myself." She says, her voice was still sweet, but you could hear the little harsh tone she added to it, raspy growl with an accent, once subtle and charming, and now pronounced and intense. But you couldn´t put the accent anywhere, maybe somewhere in Europe? East? West? You really didn´t know where to point.

"So you´re an author?" You turn to her.

"You could say that, yeah." Wanda nods.

"That is so cool," you mumbled as something weird and pitch black caught your eye. It was a really dark book, more like a journal that definetly had some history, "what´s that?" you took it from the shelf.

"That is a something like my personal journal." The readhead steps closer to you.

"Oh sorry, I didn´t meant to invade your privacy!" Her hand fall on yours as you wanted to put the book back, where you took it.

"It´s okay, I don´t have any secrets. You can read it." Wanda smiles again.

As you open the book you notice that even her handwriting is so neat and beautiful. It suits her somehow, but as you continue to flip the pages her writing went from tall and pretty to harsh and short. Reading few sentences seem like a good idea, since you had Wanda´s approval. Your face went from smile to confussion real quick. But then it hit you. The woman infront of you you, known as Wanda, is a witch. Despite this revelation, you find yourself not scared but rather intrigued by the truth.

This whole time Wanda was looking at you, waiting for you to speak first.

"So... you´re also a witch?" You try to ease the situations by a joke.

"Also?" She chuckles. "Darling, this poor outfit looks on you more like a trash bag then a costume." Her words hurts. More than you want to admit.

Is my outfit really that shitty?

"Do you want an honest answer, sweetheart?" She steps closer.

Oh so she can read minds now, great.

"I can do more than just read minds." Her accent is very strong by now.

"I- can you not read my mind?" You look at her, noticing she got really close to you.

"Your thoughts are really loud, sweetheart. It´s kinda hard to resist." She almost whispers.

Are they? I can´t think- how do i stop thinking? Oh she´s really close. I don´t mind that. Fuck. (Y/N), not now. I would take her. On a walk, definetly on a walk. No in other way.

Wanda just laughs at your poor tries at calming down your thoughts. "Im glad you´re not afraid of me. That will ease things."

What things? Am I afraid? No. Maybe a little. Who knows? She does.

"Well helping with your new outfit, silly. Which will also help you make more sweets throughout the night."

"Oh! Right!" You nod, immediately following her to her living room, you guess.

You both enter the living room, a space illuminated by the warm, flickering light of few lit candles. Your eyes caught a few wine glasses, each bearing the mark of different shades of lipstick on the enormous wooden table. However, your attention remains fixed on Wanda, who is eager to assist you in making your new Halloween costume.

"Sit over there and I´ll bring some stuff." Wanda smiles and with that she leaves the living room.

You get bored very easily so not even after two minutes you´re on your feet again, glancing around the room. Your eyes are drawn to a paintings adorning the walls. Each canvas is a totally different theme. A dark landscape with rolling hills and a small lake makes you to step into its peaceful scene. Beside it, a bold, abstract burst with vibrant colors, evoking a sense of energy and excitement, which is something you definitely wouldn´t put in a place like this. The figurative portrait of a dark figure seems to watch over the place, which freaks you out a little, since you feel like it´s watching every single one of your steps, even though you can´t really see its face. As you watch these paintings, you don´t even hear Wanda come back.

"I thought I told you to sit over there." Her tone was once again very harsh, which made you feel like a kid that didn´t listen to their mother.

"Sorry, I was just admiring art." You shrug as you sit back, where you were in the first place.

Wanda didn´t say anything, she just started to take things from her bag and list through a book. "Here it is! This will definitely earn you bags full of sweets." She looks at you. "If you´re still in?"

"Yes, of course!" You nod and before you even fully stand up Wanda push you back down with her magic. "Oh wow, that was... so cool." You smile as you notice the red mist flying around.

Wanda smiles at your fascination and comes closer to you. "I need you to close your eyes and trust me, can you do that?" She tilts her head.

"Yes, Wanda. I can do that, if I´ll have a lots of sweets by the end of the night, I will do it!" Your eyes are sparking with bigger excitement than before as you imagine all the chocolate you will eat.

"Okay." She helps you lay down on the couch, which feels really soft on your skin and it makes you close your eyes instantly. "Good, just no matter what, I need you to have your eyes closed, I want it to be surprise." Wanda´s whispers trailing right down your spine.

"I love surprises, I will keep my eyes closed, I promie. Pinky promise!" With your closed eyes you held out a pinky. Almost punching her in the face, but she quickly dodge it. Wanda just smiles at your antics and extends her pinky to make a promise with you.

It took you one more shift on the couch to feel fully comfortable. "I´m ready." You mumble to let Wanda know, even though she can read your mind. Right after the magic start to float around once again.

You feel a lot of silly sensations right away, it feels like a tickling, which in fact makes you giggle out loud. "Tickles!" You say between the laughs.

"I know, it will be just a minute, darling." She smirks, knowing that the tickling feeling is just her magic taking your clothes fully off. At the same time Wanda reagulates your body tempeture with her spells, so you don´t feel even the slightest changes.

The ticklings stops and you fully relax on the couch again, taking a deep breath in and out. Nothing is happening for a few minutes, so it´s very tempting to open your eyes and look what´s going on.

Did she left? Um... should I-

"Absolutly not! If you can´t keep your eyes closed I´ll help you with that too, since I believe you can´t do anything on your own." Wanda scoffs and slides a blindfold over your head. Even if you tried opening your eyes now, you would see pitch black.

The spells and magic start to float around again, red mist tangling around your body. Wanda just sits in her fluffy chair on the other side of the living room. Glass with red wine in her hand as she watches you with hunger in her eyes.

As you open your mouth to talk, you let out a moan. You suddenly feel a warm rush of embarrassment wash over you, your cheeks turning a shade of crimson. It's as if a spotlight has been directed on your momentary lapse, and you can sense the weight of her eyes on you. You fumble for words and wish for a way to disappear into the floor, but the awkwardness lingers.

You feel something touching your body, something that is soft, yet very hard. A delightful sensation begins to spread across your entire body, as if invisible hands are gently caressing your skin. It's like a soothing, expertly executed massage, relaxation and comfort. This wave of bliss sweeps through you, releasing tension and stress with every touch, and you surrender to the embrace of calm that envelops you.

What the hell is that?

"What is what, darling?" Wanda asks, you can hear her voice on the other side of the room, so she can´t be the one touching you. "Oh that? It is just measuring spell, for your outfit to fit perfectly, sweetheart."

"O-okay." You kinda whine out. "I thought that-"

"Oh don´t be silly!" She laughs. "Just stay still." She adds with her raspiness again.

You´re staying still as much as you can. The sensations coursing through your body are unraveling the knots of tension that once held you captive. Muscle melting into a state of pure relaxation. Each touch seems to release a sigh of relief from deep within, and you sink further into a state of blissful repose. "I need you to be relaxed, otherwise it´s not going to fit, darling." Wanda adds.

Fit? Fit what?

"All the accessories." Once again she answer your inner question.

Wanda felt like you were ready and like you can and will take whatever she give you as a addiction to your costume.

You can feel something spreading your legs a bit and moving you little of the couch. The warm feeling never leaving your body, it´s the other way around actually, it´s just increasing. It’s weird how come you can feel a touch all around your body, when Wanda is on the other side of the room. You can hear her cutting out some cloth and time to time her soft humming.

"Oh my god-" you yelp as you can feel something wet between your legs.

How come I´m this wet? Did I pee myself? Oh my god! What is going on?

"Everything okay, darling?" Wanda asks as she´s looking at your hips, slowly going up and down. Your pussy is leaking and she didn´t even touch you.

"Yes! All good!" You´re hoping you´re just feeling things, but Wanda would already say something if things wouldn´t be okay. So it is just silly feelings. Oh you know what it is, it´s the little axienty from being blindfolded, now it make sense. You’re just anxious.

Wanda listen to your thoughs as she´s having the time of her life. It´s time for the actual fun to begin. She extends her hands, conjuring four crimson, ethereal tentacles of pure energy. These serpentine tentacles undulate, glowing with the passionate and dangerous red hue, slowly extending toward their target, you. It's a captivating display of Wanda's magical skills, a vivid manifestation of her power.

As each of them lay on you, you can feel a little wetness, that sticks to you right away. It feels... good. Really good. Whatever measuring device this is, you want to feel it in you-

'Your wish is my command' is Wanda´s first thought. One of the tentacles are slowly teasing you on your inner thighs. Moving slowly up and down your leg. "I need to measure your thighs, darling. Just to make sure your costume is the perfect size. Just give me a moment." She say from the other corner of the room, sipping on her wine.

How come I can feel her, when she´s over there?

Your thoughts are quickly swap away as you feel something really hard enter your already drenched pussy. And before you can think things through, you felt absolutely nothing in your head, just pleasure. The world seems to align perfectly with Wanda´s and yours desires, creating a warm and euphoric feeling, gentle you could say. Or moan at the current state your in.

You feel like your in a dream. A very good one may Wanda add.

The enormous thing is going in and out of you like it was nothing. Wanda´s eyes are on you as she watches in awe how you didn´t resist at all. How naive you´ve been the whole time. How come little thing like you survived for such a long time in this cruel and scary world by yourself? It´s a miracle and Wanda already knows she can´t risk your well being any much longer. It is just the right time for someone to take care of you. And she´s doing a really good job at it.

As you think nothing can make you feel better, you feel the same wetness that is going in and out of you, sliding up and down your ass. Subconsciously you move, so your in better position for whatever is coming. And trust Wanda, there is always something coming.

It´s way slower and more gentle. Your mind is waiting only for one thing, a slight push. But Wanda wants to tease you for little bit, she wants your body to beg for it, when your head is too foggy to do so. You don´t feel embarrassed anymore, you don´t care. You need everything that Wanda will give you.

Wanda is still sipping on her wine as she watches you struggle, but she is feeling generous tonight, especially when she found you in this poor state, scared, weak, but mostly alone with no one who would saved you, but that will change, starting tonight at this moment.

She let her magic finally push in. As one tentacle is going in and out your pussy at the speed of light, the other one is sliding out of your ass so slow, that you start to move your hips for more. The third tentacle is slowly making its way to your clit, making you feel overstimulated.

And if Wanda was afraid you´ll be overthinking too much, now she knows you won´t ever think again. The sight of you, ruining her expensive couch with your juices is something she will make you do often. Because this is what you´ve been made to do.

You´re close and your voice is cracking from all the screaming you did tonight, Wanda finally stands up, putting her glass on the table and walks over to you, her hand finally touching you and going up and down your stomach as her red tentacles doing their own job. When her hand touches you, it's like a soothing embrace, that is also very harsh. You can feel the warmth radiating from her touch. In that moment, the outside world fades completly away, leaving you with the sensation of her touch.

She knows your close and she would love to see you fall apart, but she knows she can´t rush things. So after few squeezes of your tits and light pinch to each of your nipples, she stops. Completely. Everything. All of her magic disappearing and she makes a step back.

If you´d had any energy left you would scream, but right now, you´re just shaking on her couch. As the cold sensation envelops you, it's as if a thick dark fog descends upon your mind. The chill seeps into your thoughts, causing confusion and a sense of detachment. This cold, fuzzy feeling blurs your senses and creates an unsettling disconnect from the warmth and clarity you once knew. This is totally different from your fuzzy mind before, because at that time you were in pleasure, but now? You don´t have even that.

After a few minutes of you just laying there Wanda takes off your blindfold and you´re back in some clothes, that feels very soft. You blink a few times.

"What´s wrong, darling? You don´t like the new costume I made you?" She shushes you and wipe your falling tears. You look down, touching your new outfit, that honestly looks way better than the one you made yourself. You've got a long, black, flowing dress and a purple cloak with cool silver designs next to you. "I assumed you wouldn´t want a hat, since you didn´t had one earlier. But I made you this..." She gave you a small version of her pitch black journal.

"I- um..." You´re still shaken up from what happened before.

But what even happened before?

"You fell asleep, silly. It was hard to put those on, but look at you now!" Wanda smiles.

I slept?

"You had an intesne dream?" Wanda looks at you with concern and all you could do is just nod.

After a few minutes of complete silence Wanda comes back with a big bag full of sweets.

"Oh my god!" And your little mind is now occupied with sweets. Everything is good now.

"It´s all yours... like I´ve said. Your new outfit will make you bag full of your favorites." Wanda smiles and hands you the bag.

"Oh my god, thank you!" You take it without a beat.

"No, I thank you, darling. You know where to find me if you want more." Wanda winks and you feel this ache between your legs.

"I- uh huh." You nod once again.

As Wanda closed the door behind you, she knew right away, that you will be back soon. She needs you to come back by yourself, if she captured you now, it wouldn’t do a single good. And till that time, her magic will follow you everywhere, to make sure her new thing is safe. And that your mind is always occupied by really important things.

Wanda comes into the living room to clean, she looks at the couch that is still very wet and as she´s in her head a group of people appears behind her.

"How the hell do you always do this, Maximoff?" A tall blonde asks with jealousy in her voice.

"You always have the most naive ones and they literally come to you!" Other lady snarks.

Wanda smiles and turns around. "Well I think that this one will be open for some sharing. Literally." She smirks at her own joke.

Knock knock.

Wanda opens the door and to her surprise it´s you.

"Hai, um... i was thinking- I really like this one chocolate, but i found only one in the bag you gave me so uh, do you have maybe another one? I can trade it for something!" You smile at her.

Wanda is just looking at you with smile on her face. As you came way sooner and she doesn’t know what to say.

"Of course! We have plenty of those here and we will happily trade it with you for something else!" The blonde one almost pushed Wanda out of the way.

"Great! Thanks!" You happily walked back in.

Let´s just say, that after that night you had every sweet you ever wished for. And they had their own.

Oooof this was something. I need to get my writing spirit back, cuz this ain’t it.

Anyways thank you for reading!!!

[mxtxfanatic]

Lan Wangji's Mementos Pt. 1

One of the cutest things about Lan Wangji's expressions of love is that the man is a hoarder. There is not a single thing that Wei Wuxian has given him that he has not not secretly kept, because everything that Wei Wuxian has given him—no matter how small, no matter how annoyed he pretended to be—he considers as a precious gift:

Notes and Sketches:

Wei Wuxian was so peeved that he rolled over his mat, climbed up, and wrote another. He slapped it in front of Lan Wangji, who crumpled it into a ball and threw it away again. The Silencing Spell didn’t lift until after Wei Wuxian had finished his copying. The second day, upon re-entering the Library Pavilion, he discovered that all of the wads of paper littering the floor had been removed.

...

But sure enough, Wei Wuxian grew tired and miserable after not too long, and started to lapse back into his old bad habits. He sent a piece of paper over to Lan Wangji and pestered him to take a look. Lan Wangji thought it would contain yet more random, pointless nonsense, but some god or demon must have induced him to glance over it anyway. Surprisingly, it was actually a remarkably true-to-life portrait, portraying a figure sitting upright and still, reading quietly under the light streaming through the window. The figure was, in fact, Lan Wangji himself.

—Chapt. 15: Elegance V, fanyiyi

Flowers:

As Lan WangJi pondered with downcast eyes, he suddenly felt something weigh onto his head. He raised his hand. A pink medicinal peony, at the peak of its bloom, had landed flawlessly on the side of his head. From on top of a building came a grinning voice, “Lan Zhan—ah, no, HanGuang-Jun—what a coincidence!” Lan WangJi looked up to see an airy pavilion lined with layers and layers of gauze curtains. A black-robed man lay on his side over a red lacquer divan. One hand of his slender body dangled down, holding a fine liquor jar made of black clay. Half of the jar’s crimson tassel wrapped around his arm, while the other half swayed back and forth in the air.

—Chapt. 71: Departure, exr

Lan WangJi’s bookmark was a dried flower in a light shade. It had been kept with much care, its color as vibrant ever. The petals and the veins were so delicate that it seemed to be alive. Between pages, it let off a soft aroma. Wei WuXian picked out the bookmark and asked, “Herb peony?” Lan WangJi, “Mn.”

—Chapt. 65: Tenderness, exr

Bunnies:

Hastily, he said, “Hey, can’t you be less scary? I’m here to give you a present and apologize for my wrongdoings.” Without even considering the offer, Lan Wangji refused. “I do not want it.” “You really don’t?” Wei Wuxian asked. He saw a guarded note in Lan Wangji’s gaze. As though he was performing a magic trick, he pulled two bunnies from the chest area of his robes. He held the two chubby, perfectly round snowballs by the ears. The snowballs were still kicking around wildly when Wei Wuxian placed them before Lan Wangji’s eyes. “Your mountain is strange. There aren’t any pheasants, but there’s lots of wild bunnies who aren’t even afraid of people. So how about it? Aren’t they fat little things? Don’t you want them?”

—Chapt. 18: Elegance VIII, fanyiyi

The Lan WangJi at this point in time was also just about sixteen. He frowned slightly, as though he was worried about something. What he held in his arm was a white rabbit, sniffing its pink nose, and beside his foot was another rabbit, its long ears perked up as it stood clinging to his boot, trying to climb up. Lan XiChen, “How could the casual remarks between two boys be considered a serious promise? Is it really because of this?” Lan WangJi looked at the ground and said nothing. Lan XiChen smiled, “Fine. Then if by any chance Uncle asks of this, you must explain things to him properly. These days, you have been spending just a little too much time on them.”

—Chapt. 119: Incense Burner Extra, exr

Wei Wuxian touched the back of [Little Apples's] neck and thought about the jade passage tokens the juniors carried while pointing at the round, white rabbits covering the ground. “I’m really not allowed to cook them? So if I cooked them, I’d be chased off the mountain?” As though facing a major enemy, Lan Jingyi opened his arms and stepped in front of him immediately. “These are Hanguang Jun’s rabbits. We just help watch them once in a while. Don’t you dare cook them!”

—Chapt. 19: Sunshine I, fanyiyi

+1 The memento Lan Wangji never received:

That night was the first time Lan WangJi ever drank, as well as the first time he was inebriated. He had no memories of what he did when he was drunk. For a long time, all of the Lan Sect’s people, no matter disciple or cultivator, held disbelief in their eyes when they looked at him. Some said that night he broke through the storage room of the Cloud Recesses, ransacking the chests in search of who-knew-what. When Lan XiChen asked, he said he wanted a flute, his eyes lost. Lan XiChen gave him the finest flute made of white jade, yet he threw it away in fury, saying this wasn’t the one he wanted.

—Chapt. 111: Wangxian, exr

Pt. 2

[colourstreakgryffin]

Hii! Can we get a fic with how would it like to be if the reader was basically douma same personality appearence etc. With Alastor? I REALLY WANT TO SEE HOW IT WOULD GO.

Oh my fucking god. This Duo— it’s this duo and Discord with Alastor, I think would mesh well! Haha! Anyway! I am definitely trying this out, thank you, loves! Hope you enjoy!

Alastor- Rainbow Irises

Ah… a cannibalistic murderous cult has rolled into the Pride Ring. Alastor isn’t surprised when he hears over the new Overlord being the Eternal Paradise Cult leader. He’s heard worse

Though… her eyes are a mesmerising rainbow. A gorgeous, colourful, almost hypnotic swirl of multiple colours and the way she has presented herself to the Pride Ring… menacing yet elegant and cool-headed. Dressed like a fancy old-fashioned Japanese woman and wielding golden sharp fans

You’re an entire walking-talking red flag of a person. Speaking smooth and doting to everybody you meet but raising your fangs to their neck. You’re possibly even worse than Valentino. You trick everybody into thinking you’re polite and considerate and playful but you have a VERY ugly monster under those rainbow eyes

You have that charisma and friendliness Alastor uses regularly, coming off as upbeat and you greets all the Overlords politely but the proclaims you make… the way you eat other sinner demons with no problem and even brag about putting heads of decapitated men in pots. You have everybody in the room’s spines shivering in both disgust and intimidation at how you’re like

Alastor respects the way you establish yourself and getting his full respect is hard. You are intimidating, you are menacing, it’s a sign of how strong you actually are. The second strongest Overlord in Hell’s history(right behind Alastor). You regularly loom over Alastor and enjoy sweet-talking him

Alastor can recognise when a psychopath is talking so he never falls for your tricks nor your innocent act. You’re dangerous and twisted, specifically targeting and only eating men, hence you’re only-men member cult. He won’t let you even try take a finger off him

Alastor is basically our Shinobu, except Al doesn’t beat on us

Alastor doesn’t like you just touching him. You’ll reach out and touch him, solely to annoy him. He isn’t scared of you but he can tell why the other Overlords are so tense around you… you’re the most perfect cult leader, a inviting aura and a sensual voice that screams illusionary safety

Alastor has to hold his breath around you. When you’re angry, you turn ice cold and you don’t mind making the air too frozen for anybody to breathe in. So, he is quite careful with you. Juggling inbetween cold treatment and warm treatment, he feels like he is handling a spoiled brat when he talks to you

Alastor ignores the ‘gifts’ you make or get him. The lotus ice statues are wonderful but he knows what you’re trying to do… he may compliment your work but he won’t let you talk him into anything

But that doesn’t mean, Alastor doesn’t find your work nor your power impressive. He is very impressed and he rewards you for all you’ve done with your little cult and rising up to the rank to being the second strongest Overlord ever known in Hell. It’s a grand feat that he will clap to

“Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Aren’t you even a little bit worried about me, Lord Alastor~?”

“Darling. Kindly do not touch—“

“You don’t know how dreadfully worried I was. Since you all are cherished comrades of mine. I’d be heartbroken if I lost any of my comrades~”

Alastor finds your Japanese voice and language irresistible in a way, since it reflects your English and ‘nature’ very well but once again… he won’t fall for how often you say you like him. He knows people like you, he’s one of them. He’ll just commend what you’ve done as a Pride Ring Overlord

Alastor HATES the ‘Lord Alastor’ nickname you give him and always address him under… yeah. You give it to every other Overlord, he isn’t the only one who is called ‘Lord’ but it feels so condescending and in reality, it is…

“Silence, my dear. The adults are speaking… now, calm down that temper of yours. We don’t need anymore aircon in this room”

[green-tea-in-absinthe-bottle]

NEVER GONNA DANCE AGAIN (oneshot)

Aventurine x ex girlfriend!reader

He would gamble his own life before ever risking your relationship but his dangerous job forced him to give you up, shattering both of your hearts in the process. Months later Sigonian notices you on one of the boujee parties he got invited to as an IPC representative. Motivated by yearning and alcohol in his veins Aventurine tries his luck in love again. ANGST,SUGGESTIVE

general masterlist

Aventurine was always a little bit fed up with those expensive parties thrown by his business partners, lavish ballroom filled with pathetic people living with no purpose besides endless consumption, each of them raised in conditions he could only dream of as a child, staring at him with curiosity. Hoping that he will make a mistake, prove them he is still a lowlife they take him for despite all those privileges he now enjoyed as a high ranking IPC member. But tonight he sincerely did not care about any of this, barely acknowledging the noise around him. 

He sipped on a drink more pricey than lifetime supply of food for his whole clan would be, giving out charming smiles that never reached his devoid of emotions, outstanding eyes to greedy leaches sitting alongside him at the poker table. Seemingly interested in shallow exchange of blows disguised as jokes and witty remarks young man looked around not expecting anything positive out of this meeting, maybe except meaningless material gains he forced himself to care about for the sake of keeping up his Aventurine persona.  

Then he noticed elegant woman standing alone near the entrance. Fingers adorned with precious rings clenched around the glass, almost shattering it in desperate attempt to conceal how much his hands started to shake at the sight of familiar face. He thought he imagined it at first, but his broken heart wasn't playing tricks on him. Aventurine would recognize your face even after centuries, every detail of it carved into his mind, into his soul. Long, green dress tightly hugged your figure, enhancing every curve he loved to caress so much. It was really you. Just as beautiful as the day he broke your heart, five months ago. The day he saw you for the last time. 

*** 

- Why are you doing this to me? To us? After all this time? - tears dripped down your cheeks, you were choking on your sobs. Aventurine wanted to hold you, make you feel like everything will be alright, but he knew what he needed to do to keep you safe. 

- Y/n, there is nothing to talk about, stop making this so hard. I never loved you in the first place, I just needed some distraction from my work. - he was always a great liar. You seemed to believe him and he thanked Aeons for it, despite how much it hurt him to see you in pain. It's the only way to make sure they won't touch you. - It was funny to play house with you for two years but that joke got old. You no longer entertain me.  

You looked into his eyes, begging for this to be a cruel prank, searching for any crumbs of love in his eyes, but they were cool and calculated. Speaking to him when he put on his poker face felt like talking to a wall. Despair slowly turned into hatred in you heart, it's fire kept you warm in spite of your ex boyfriend's cold attitude.  

- I hate you. I hate you so fucking much. I can't blame you for being a shameless liar, you told me that's who you are at the beginning. I should've trusted you when you showed me your true colors. I don't even want you to apologize, I played myself investing my love in you. Now get lost Vasha. - nickname once spoken tenderly now felt like a slap to Aventurine. How do you tell somebody in front of whom you bared your soul that they were only a toy to you?  

He spared you the rest of monologue he prepared and went outside with all his belongings packed in three suitcases. He glanced at the door of your shared place for the last time and whispered to himself. 

- In another universe I can be just your Kakavasha, kiss your face every morning after I wake up by your side and hold you every night, love you the way you deserve to be loved, make you proud of me. Protect you with my own strong arms and build our future with them. But Aventurine can't afford such luxury, not at your expense. Not if it can cost your life. 

***  

Just thinking about how he treated you made him want to punch himself in the face. He tried to reason with himself. Back then his position in Stonehearts was endangered after he risked his Cornerstone during the mission in Penacony.  If he lost all his power opponents he got during his work in IPC would go straight after you and he wouldn't be able to fight them off. Aventurine secured his rank and influences by now, as soon as he did that he got rid of enemies to make sure he will never feel this incapable of protecting those dear to him. Such as you. 

Aventurine knew he should not hope for rekindling of your love, not after all those terrible things he has said and done, but could you blame him? All his life nothing really belonged to him, nothing but your heart you so willingly gave to him. Even money he bargained with were only borrowed from IPC, just like his new name, dignity and life. Not to mention his whole new personality, attitude worn as a mask grew so deep into him it felt like a second face. Kakavasha was a different man, the kind that knew what was really important and what was not.  

One not impressed by money or political circus, instead wanting to protect and provide for those close to him, more down to earth and proud than Aventurine could ever be with all his wealth and victories. The one who stood in silence when the lights were gone, the one who observed emotionless when his fate was debated by the rest of the Stonehearts, the one who put his own body as a shield between his friends and dangers of battle.  

There was not much those two men caged together in one body had in common, with few exceptions. Both had iron will and ambition forged in hellfire they went through in this lifetime, both were aware that even with all the luck in the universe their destiny was inherently unjust and both knew they will love you till death returns Kakavasha's tired soul to his family and Gaiathra Triclops in afterlife.  

Alcohol circulated in his veins, clouding his mind and soothing his fears. He excused himself not caring about worried glances his coworkers sent him and rushed towards you on slightly wobbling legs, passing self-important gentlemen and overdressed ladies. Concentrated on getting to you as fast as possible he didn't plan on what to say so once your eyes crossed he just froze in place. At first your eyes widened in pure shock but right away hatred took over. Aventurine inhaled sharply when your brows furrowed and jaw clenched. He wasn't used to irritated glances from you, you were always so gentle with him. His mouth got dry. 

- Long time no see, dear. - your voice was more collected than you expected it to be. Sometimes you imagined meeting him again but even in your dreams you were never this calm and over him. So time truly does heal wounds. - I have no idea why do you think you can just approach me out of nowhere after what you did to me, but I won't let you waste any more of my time after you stole years of my life with your empty promises. So please, hurry up.  

- So cold, huh? - Aventurine awkwardly attempted to laugh his anxiety off. - I know I must come off as a complete jerk but please, listen to me. Back then... I... I don't know how to explain that. 

- Maybe for once just say the truth if you even know how to be sincere. - you scoffed. - Simply say it like it is.  

- I was one bad day away from losing my job and I needed to make sure you won't get hurt in the process.  

You raised one of your eyebrows.  

- So you can only love me when you are on the top of the world but as soon as problems emerge I am a burden to discard? - you rolled your eyes.  

- Don't say that... It's not like that. - he hid his left hand behind his back, toying with one of the poker chips he always carried around. - If they kicked me out all kinds of sick people who prayed for my downfall would go after me. None of them would miss the opportunity to hurt me even more by harming you.  

- If that's what you say... - you seemed unbothered.  

- What do you mean by that? - Avgin curved his lips in confusion. 

- How can I be sure you aren't lying? That wouldn't be the first time it seems. - you chuckled sadly.  

- Please don't use that against me, I had no choice... - before he had a chance to explain further you interrupted. 

- Why should I believe you? Not to mention at this point it wouldn't change anything. - you looked away. - Not after all this time. 

- How could I let you know it was a bluff if you cut me off completely? I couldn't find you anywhere, I tried for weeks. You moved out and blocked me. - Sigonian's voice broke when he choked on repressed emotions, wondering if you even listened to him, your expression not showing any sign of interest. 

- I don't care anymore. If you really wanted to you would find a way. - you shrugged. 

Before he could mention how he overused his political influence and still could not find a single trace of you black haired male approached you both with glass of wine. Aventurine sized him up, tall and well build man had a reserved and cool aura, Avgin could feel hidden power radiate from that guy, as if he had a beast under his skin. Something about the way dark-haired male looked at you made his stomach turn. 

- I brought the drink you wanted. Are you ok? Who's that man? - mysterious guy asked you, concerned by your uncomfortable body language. He had a deep, melodic voice but spoke in monotone way. 

- I should ask the same thing. - Aventurine did his best to sound intimidating. - You guys know each other? - he turned his gaze back to you. 

- Yes, it's my coworker, Dan Heng. We grew really close lately. - you smiled at that strange, tall man. Sigonian stopped himself from asking just how close the two of you were. - Thank you for a chance to catch up Aventurine, but you see, I'm very busy right now. I promised to introduce my... friend to a few people. 

You gave him venomous smile when Dan Heng put his arm around your waist protectively and pulled you away from your ex. Aventurine hated the way you let that guy touch you. Did you allow him even more in private? Did you let him do things Avgin used to do? Does that other man know how beautiful you look with messy hair and no make up, with flushed cheeks and tears of pleasure in your eyes? Do you sing for him the way you did for Aventurine every night? Does he wear your marks on his back? Gambler preferred not to know, but whether Dan Heng already took his place by your side or was yet working on it, he was sure of one thing.  

- It's not over yet. - Aventurine muttered, clenching his left fist till he heard a poker chip breaking in half. 

[ashs-cardboard-box]

Lost bets

~ Arthur Morgan/GN!Reader

~ Romantic

~ 872 words

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If there was one fact about you that stood above all, was that you were damn good at poker. Only getting better with time, and a few tricks from Hosea. TIme after time again, racking up money from people who wanted to try their hand with you.

This time, one of those people just so happened to be Arthur Morgan. You couldn’t deny he put up a good fight. Unfortunately, the both of you were far more intoxicated than you should’ve been. That one mistake led to stupid bets being made.

“I hate you..” Arthur grumbles as he pulls the brim of his hat down over his face to hide just how red he's getting. You, on the other hand, are enjoying his suffering immensely. Doubling over and clutching your sides, damn near tears due to his predicament.

“I really gotta do this..?” He asks hesitantly, to which you nod and force yourself to breathe, though still giggling as you eye Arthur up and down.

He looked deranged. Your bet was to put the loser into a dress for the day; nothing elegant. Just an old cyan, full-length dress the gang accidentally picked up a while ago. Doing all the normal chores one would've done anyway. 

His muddy boots peeking out underneath the hem of the dress. His broad chest almost unable to fit into where a pair of breasts are supposed to be, his lats causing the dyed fabric to stretch slightly. Unable to get his biceps through the sleeves, they just rest underneath his armpits. With one of his arms wrapped around his midsection awkwardly, his other hand holds his hat over his face. Not yet ready to leave your tent.

“C'mon, darlin', you look fineee..” You draw out teasingly, only making Arthur grumble in frustration. A broad grin plastered on your face as you step closer to Arthur.

“Here,” You say simply, removing his arm from covering his stomach, much to his surprise. Arthur lifts his hat curiously to look at what you're doing. His heart threatening to jump out of his chest as he watches you unfasten your leather belt and pull it free from your pants in one swift motion.

Without a second thought, you wrap the belt around Arthur's abdomen and lock it in place, with the idea that not only will it accentuate Arthur's waist and cause more embarrassment, but it'll hide a bit more of his shame should the dress try to fall down.

Arthur mutters something incomprehensible under his breath and looks away from you with a huff. Putting his hat back atop his head as you put your hands on his hips.

“Don't get used to it..” He cavils, stiffly reaching forward and resting his forearms on your shoulders, interlacing his fingers behind your head.

“I'll try not to.” You giggle, gawking at his figure one last time before straightening your posture and placing a small peck onto Arthur's lips before letting go of him entirely, much to his displeasure.

“I think you got chores to do, Morgan.” You tease, gesturing towards the entrance to your tent. He glares at you as if trying to say “I'll get you back for this” before he takes a deep breath to stone his nerves. Walking out of your tent with his head held high, as if it's entirely normal to see such a rugged man in a dress.

With you walking next to him, you watch as the other gang members stare at him in confusion before breaking out into fits of laughter. Arthur's cheeks flush a tinge of pink at their stares, but it's hard to deny how good it feels to see people happy again, even if it's at his own expense.

“Hey, Y/N! She your new woman?” John chortles as he looks between both you and Arthur. In a good spirited manner, you take Arthur's arm in your own and place his hand on your bicep, as you've seen the pricks in Saint Denis do with their woman.

“Damn straight. Ain't she just a beauty?” You retort with another fit of giggles. Arthur glares at you and John in silence. His brow furrowed yet his lips curved upwards into an amused smirk.

“I'll say.” John remarks sarcastically with a chuckle and a shake of his head. Finding it extremely amusing on how you even convinced Arthur to pull something like this.

“Think ya might look better than me, Arthur!” Molly jokes as she approaches the trio, only sparking more gang members to tease and mock the two of you.

“You'd make a hell of an ugly woman.” “Finally find your true form, blacklung?” “I ain't even gonna ask..” “Dutch's crazy spread to you too?” “This ain't got a damn thing to do with me.”

Comment after remark after mocking statement, all teasing the two of you for your drunken bet. Yet, at the end of the day, it's all in good fun. Arthur kept his promise and got you back after dark in your tent...much to the gang's dismay.

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Still working on my last request but this idea was stuck in my head

I hope the formatting is good 💀 wrote it on my phone

[jamneuromain]

Wild Child Chapter. 2

Series Summary:

As the granddaughter of the sole Duke in your country, you know that you were going to marry some douche prince, because it is the only way to solidify the grasp the future king has on the Upper House. On the flight home, you come up with a brilliant plan to defy your upcoming matrimony.

Bringing a random man to your grandfather's place, and say you have a boyfriend already.

"Is there anything else I should know about? Before I meet your family?" Ari cocks his head to the side, watching you adjusting your cerulean Valentino dress when you wave your hand dismissively.

"Just say we're in love and help me get out of marrying this D-bag."

Ari Levinson x You

#i didn't know he is my fiance-douchebag-prince

#when i did, it was too late

“Where’s mom?” On returning home, you asked your father, who was pacing in his study.

“Forget about that woman. Alcohol?! And shameless flirting?!!” Your father barked at you, “I sent you to study for your degree, not whoring yourself out for some peasant on the plane.”

“If I may, father,” Your lips twitched, forming a quick smirk, but hiding it as soon as your father glared at you, “if he is a peasant, he’s a peasant in the first class. Isn’t that what you commented on the son of the minister?”

Keeping your tone as plain as possible, you bit the inside of your cheek from laughing.

“You don’t fucking talk back to me, DO YOU UNDERSTAND?” Your father roared with all his fury. Clearly, his little pea brain has gone through your logic and was reminded of the failed attempt to marry you to Timothy Sullivan, the son of the Minister of Foreign Trade.

“Yes, father.” You murmured. Lowering your head to watch your shoes.

These are very adorable high heels. Black, elegant, lady-like.

You wonder if you could tell the designer to add a couple of daisies on it, to compliment the black velvet surface. It’d better be daisies with thin pedals and-

“You WILL be marrying the prince, and I don’t fucking care whether we have to tie you to a wheelchair or send you to the psychic ward to accomplish that!” He hissed right into your face.

He was way too worked up, a few drops of spit landed on your face as a result.

You didn’t even flinch.

“LOOK AT ME WHEN I’M TALKING TO YOU!” He shouted.

You raised your eyes, looking at him, right in the eyes you inherited from.

There were veins pumping on his forehead, and his neck. Your father had aged. Older than the blurry image your memory had shown you. A few strands of his hair turned grey, Wrinkles, saggy skin, and cloudy eyes.

And a smell of grease, sweat, and … the stench of men.

The stench of old age and death crept up to him, clawing him from head to toe.

He was aged, old, and there was only so much that he could do, as he desperately tried to wrap you in his fingers.

“Yes, father.” You answered like a robot.

He breathed like a broken bellow. You could almost hear his lungs expanding and contracting, sounding as if he was trying to breathe with phlegm blocking his windpipe.

Looking into your eyes, he looked stunned.

“No funny tricks, you hear me?” He grunted, collapsing onto his chair, and drinking down from his mug. When he spoke again, his voice grew softer, “I know you weren’t pleased with this … deal, but it could benefit our family, benefit you, and just think, that the heir of our kingdom is your husband and your future children … If I were you,” He reached for your hand and patted it in a comforting sort of way, “I would have married him.”

Now, you really couldn’t help yourself. Because-

“I don’t remember the prince ever saying anything about not being gay.” You commented dryly, “Considering your enthusiasm, why don’t you go marry him?”

That earned you the punishment of grounding for a month. Which, on the other hand, helped you realize that you only have a month before the wedding.

No TV, no Internet, no phone.

But your father was “kind” enough to deliver some books per your requirements, You were carefully examined by the security guards before entering your bedroom, having all electronics taken from your possession,

A few people came to visit.

Your aunt, the prince’s aunt, and two Countess who had met the prince in person.

They came bragging and persuading you to marry the prince, because he is tall and handsome, the Prince Charming of forty million dames in your country,

Sure.

If this Prince, Ari Levinson, is handsome, pigs could also fly and bats could miraculously regain their eyesight.

You had learnt how aunties could manipulate the facts and create someone who sounded perfect and flawless many years ago.

Truthfully though, if he sent your mother, you would consider the possibility of accepting this marriage (though you doubt you’d have other choices). Bringing in these blabbing mouths only furthered your irritation towards Prince Ari, as he could well come here and face you like a man with balls.

Meals were brought to your door. Shoes and credit cards were taken from your room. Your sleeping chamber was on the second floor, and your father made sure you wouldn’t jump from the terrace by planting thorn bushes on the ground below.

He even banned you from attending the late Duke’s funeral, and snorted, “Don’t even THINK about running away.”

Where could you possibly run to? You had no money, no transportation, and nowhere to hide.

And by now, it has struck you that the funeral was only a scam to lure you home.

Considering that your grandfather did pass away, half a scam.

The true intention was to get you married. It always has been. But the fact that your grandfather died sped up the process, as there was no more guarantee that the “Duke” title would stay in your family. Your father needed to marry you to the prince, before the royal family regrets their decision to abandon your family and select another girl to marry Ari.

However, you didn’t plan to run.

Not yet, anyway.

A week after you returned home, you were hauled out of the mansion for the dress fitting.

Two bodyguards pinned you between them, squeezing the life out of you when you arrived at the shop Priester’s Bridal, feeling like you were turned into two-dimensional.

“Guys,” You shooed them to the doorstep, crossing your arms for good measure, “a little privacy when the bride is about to try on her wedding dress, please.”

It would be your wedding and you wanted it to be the way you wanted.

A sparkling dress, a shiny diamond ring, a small church with stone walls and altar…

“Please, gentlemen?” You cocked your head to the side. You had never used your title or your power upon anyone, but for once, you wanted to be left undisturbed, “All I’m asking is for you to turn around. Or I will tell my future husban how you followed me into the changing room.”

There was only one exit in and out of this wedding dress shop, and your bodyguards (more like the bodyguards sent by your father to keep an eye on you) blocked the door with their large frames and had their backs to you without another word.

The owner of the shop welcomed you with a warm smile and a firm handshake, “Ms. Y/L/N, right? I’m Lana Priester, and I will be assisting you with your dress fitting. Please follow me to the changing room.”

The shop took up almost half a block, with floor-to-ceiling windows that put almost every wedding dress in the shop on display. Thick silver curtains cut the shop into halves. With the first half, the half that could be seen by pedestrians on the sidewalk, and the second half, which was completely closed off to unauthorized personnel, including large mirrors, a huge leather couch, the owner’s office in the corner, and a changing room to the left.

Lana kept stealing glances at you. Making you wonder if serving the future Queen was too much of a responsibility for her.

As she held the heavy curtain for you to pass through, you asked in a low voice: “Is the wedding dress ready?”

Lana let out a small gasp of surprise, “Of course, it is, Ma’am. We’ve had this dress ready for two weeks now. I personally designed it based on your measurements given by your father.”

Ah. So it is ready. You closed your eyes for a second, feeling the surge of anger travelling through your veins. You had never given your measurements to anyone, let alone your father. They – your family and the royal family - had been planning it for over a month by now, while your grandfather’s death gave them the perfect excuse to bring you home.

And you took the bait, like a fool.

You changed into the wedding dress with the help of a few sales assistants. Long, white, lace edges that prickled your skin, with puff sleeves that end mid-arm.

You looked like a fucking clown from the Victorian Era.

Looking at yourself in the mirror, after stepping out of the changing room, for one briefest of moments, you could almost laugh.

For how ridiculous and pathetic you looked in your wedding dress.

For the fact that you were going to marry a man you had never met.

Though if you laughed, you would, no doubt, be thrown into an ambulance and locked up in the psychiatric ward.

“Could I have a say in some minor changes … for example, we lose the lace and the puff sleeves?” You glanced at Lana in the mirror, your fingers uncontrollably scratching your skin because of the itching lace.

Lana hesitated. She didn’t say “Yes” or “No” in an instant, rather, she darted her eyes elsewhere – you guessed she was asking for help from her employees in silence.

The corner of your lips twitched, but you pressed the cold sneer back where it came from.

“Well?” You crossed your arms, “I am the bride, am I not?”

“Yes … Yes, but - ” She waved for the sales assistants to get out of earshot before whispering, “It’s your father’s order to design such a dress…”

Lana seemed nice. You regretted your decision to pull her into your “royal” mess in the first place.

“Forget it.” You smiled humorlessly, “It’s a nice dress. And I doubt four weeks would be enough.”

It was hideous.

The small excitement you had in your heart of at least getting a nice dress for your once-in-a-lifetime wedding burst like a bubble.

Some fucking bride you were, not being able to have a say in your own wedding dress.

“What seems to be the problem?”

A low timbre ghosted your ears.

Your vision blurred, but you were fairly certain that a handsome man approached you.

A dazzling blue shirt, popping two buttons at the collar loose. Bulging everywhere because his muscles could barely be contained in the tight fabric. Rolling up his sleeves, the man stood before you. A smile on his lips that could make the sun blush.

Fuck.

You exhaled softly.

You’d rather marry this handsome guy than the pussy prince.

No, pussies can push babies out of women's bodies, the prince was even lesser than a pussy because you were sure that he couldn’t give birth to kids.

Lana cleared her throat, piping up nervously, “Uh - Miss. Y/L/N here wants to … make changes to her dress.”

To Ari’s eyes, you were fucking gorgeous.

But what the fuck was wrong with that dress and whoever designed this?

Searching through your memory, you matched the familiar face to the man on the plane: “Oh! You … we met on the plane to Ancetol.” Feigning a gasp, you widened your grin, “You work in the jewellery industry, right? Fancy seeing you here.”

“Y/N!” Ari faked his surprised expression. He had been watching you from the surveillance camera in the tiny owner’s office. It took him great strength to act like an Oscar-winner, “Yes, the plane. Guy. Guy Thomas. I own this place.” He re-introduced himself, since you had clearly forgotten his name.

You extended your hand to shake his, but he took it gently and kissed the back of your hand softly.

Fuck, he’s got long eyelashes.

Those said eyelashes fluttered, revealing those crystal blue eyes, “How may I be of assistance?”

Warmth travelled from your throat to the bottom of your stomach. Blood soared to your face, which you hoped he hadn’t noticed.

“I was wondering if I could make changes to this … dress.” You said curtly.

“Your- Um, Mr. Thomas,” Lana spoke up behind you, “This dress is ordered by her father, Mr. Y/L/N.”

Ari rubbed his thumb. He was used to twirling the family ring on his finger, but the empty touch reminded him that he had put it in his pocket, because of the obvious lion with a spear and a shield as the family crest on the large golden ring.

“Grab a pen and paper,” He ordered Lana to re-design your dress, “This time, I will personally oversee the designing.”

As Lana scurried to gather what was needed to redo the dress, Ari led you to sit on the large couch, while asking the sales assistants to bring you a bottle of champagne and two glasses and “the ring selection”.

“The ring selection?” You couldn’t help but ask, as you were notified next to nothing on this shopping tour of yours, “I wasn’t aware that I would be choosing the ring.”

“The engagement ring.” Ari explained, “It has been paid along with the cost of the dress. I - ” He remembered that he was “Guy”, nothing more than a business owner, “The royal family paid for everything. I think they want you to wear it, now that you were engaged and about to be married.”

“Ah.” You let your gaze fall elsewhere.

You would be picking the most fucking expensive ring from this store.

And asking for your dress to be made of entirely diamonds.

“You don’t look happy.” He commented all of a sudden, earning a curious expression from you. “You don’t look happy.” He repeated, “Why is that?”

He seemed genuine.

“Give me one reason that I should be, I challenge you.” You took a glass from the sales assistant’s tray, sipping on the bubbly drink, grinning, “Although, I should probably warn you that my lawyer will ask you to sign an NDA after we talk.”

“Don’t care.” He murmured, before turning to you. His interest spiked, “First of, aren’t you marrying the prince, which, according to rumors, soon to be crowned king after the wedding?”

“You mean marrying a man I have completely no idea of, and he didn’t even show up, or get down on his knees?” You rolled your eyes to the back of your head, “Puh-lease, they say that marriage is the grave of love. I’d say this marriage buries all possibilities of love.”

Ari scratched his nose when he heard you mention about “not showing up”, technically he did … just not as himself. Taking a drink from his own glass, he ventured for a second guess, “But I’m sure that you could do something real and … I don’t know,” he pushed his hair to the back, feeling short-breathed, “charity. Go to hospital, visit sick children, support kids getting education, stuff like that.”

You sigh. “It takes years to land those projects, not to mention that every move I make will be vetted by the royal family. They could easily kick me out if they don’t need my father – no, my late grandfather’s title anymore.”

That coincided with what his mother, Queen Olivia, had said. They only needed you for the connections to the Upper House. Which, of course, he would fight tooth and nail for you to remain your position as the future queen. He doubted whether another girl from the noble family could be half as entertaining as you.

"Why not just quit? Quit this all." Ari gestured to the dresses on the mannequin.

Your eyes darted towards the door, where two bodyguards were still doing their duty, preventing you from escaping. "Do you think we'd still be talking if I had a choice?"

“Would it be better if you take the title? Not your father? That’d help you stay in the royal family?” Ari asked as a last resort. If he could do anything to help you, he would.

“Sure.” You drained your class, calm as ever. “But you've forgot one thing.”

You had considered it before, even asking your father about the possibility. To which he answered with a slap on your face and called you a dumb bitch.

“Which is?”

“Ballenian law stated that noble titles could only be inherited by men.”

He shut his mouth.

The long history of Ballenia was filled with kings.

He should have known. He should have noticed.

"Miss. Y/L/N?" One of the sales assistants lingered by the jewellery counter near the wall, "Your rings are ready."

Having three trays brought to you, you carelessly pointed one that looked most beautiful - also the one with the largest diamond on it.

"Let me help." Ari muttered, dismissing the assistant, pinching the diamond ring between his fingers, and carefully slipping the dashing ring on your middle finger.

It fitted. Perfectly.

Your glass had been refilled with champagne, so you raised your glass into the air, "To the fucking royal family."

Ari's glass clicked with yours.

You presumed he didn't dare to say so. So you let out a small giggle and allowed your tiny piece of freedom - the buzzing alcohol to indulge you for the moment.

Taglist (also tagging those who might be interested: @irishhappiness @patzammit @identity2212 @lokislady82 @petalj @thezombieprostitute @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @magnificentsaladllama @xx-rennyxx

Find the Wild Child Masterlist here 👈

Questions? Comments? Requests? 👉Send them to my inbox 👂

[dewdrop-writes]

Blood of Ambition - Chapter 3: Where Paths Cross Once More

Dio Brando x Reader (AFAB reader)

<<First || <<Previous || Next>>

Days passed with few notable events since your chance encounter with Dio, yet your mind remained restless. Dio had changed considerably. Naturally, he’d grown over the years spent apart—that much was to be expected. His air of superiority, though unsettling, wasn’t entirely surprising either. He had always been ambitious, and given the life of luxury he now led, it made sense that he would carry himself with even greater pride.

Yet something about him felt… off. It could have easily been your mind playing tricks on you after all this time apart. Still, in brief moments, you caught glimpses of the boy you once held dear, small slivers of his old self peeking through.

With a frustrated sigh, you wiped your hands on your apron. It had been so long since you’d thought of him in this way, yet here you were, cursed once more by his absence. By mere accident, he had dipped his toes back into the depths of your mind, only to withdraw, more likely than not, never to return.

You banished thoughts of him to the depths of your mind once more as you prepared for another busy day. Rising before dawn, you had already been baking and cleaning for hours before the shop would open. At first, the routine had been a challenge to adjust to, but now you found comfort in the rhythm. The brisk pace of your days kept you engaged, and at night, you usually drifted off the moment your head touched the pillow.

“(Name)!”

Startled, you turned to see Mrs. Haverford poking her head into the kitchen. Recognizing your employer’s wife, you relaxed and offered a sheepish smile.

“Yes?” you asked, facing her fully.

In her hand was an envelope, and even from where you stood, you couldn’t help but notice the elegant, flowing cursive gracing its surface.

“There’s a letter for you, dear,” she said warmly, her eyes crinkling into a kind smile.

You were taken aback. No one had ever sent you a letter before. Anyone who wished to reach you could usually take the time to find you with ease. Blinking away your bewilderment, you stepped forward and accepted the envelope, brows knitted together in confusion. 

The envelope was heavy, made of sturdy, cream toned parchment. Despite never having received a letter of your own, you knew this was no ordinary one. The sender had even sealed it with brilliant red wax. Running your fingers along the edges of the object, you could make out details that had been embossed into it.

This envelope was nothing ordinary. Had it been addressed to the wrong person?

Your suspicions faded as soon as you flipped it over to check the sender’s name.

It was addressed to you, without a doubt.

From Dio Brando.

You nearly dropped the envelope in shock, only just managing to catch it before it could fall to the flour-covered floor.

Dio had sent you a letter?

You couldn’t help but wonder if you were dreaming.

Palms sweaty, you cautiously opened the envelope, curiosity thrumming through your veins. The writing on the letter matched the elegance of the envelope, each stroke as refined as it was intricate. It was a level of formality and flair you weren’t accustomed to, and you found yourself squinting slightly, trying to decipher the words woven through the dizzying, graceful script.

Dear (Name),

I am writing to amend the brevity of our last encounter. It seems we were not afforded the chance to catch up as fully as I would have liked. As I shall still be in London for the next few days, I would welcome the opportunity to speak with you again before my return.

Please meet me at the address provided below, promptly at 7 p.m. this evening. You needn’t trouble yourself with a response; I will be waiting.

With warm regards,

Dio Brando

Your brows furrowed as you absorbed each meticulously crafted sentence, unsure what to make of it. Part of you bristled at the arrogance seeping through Dio’s words.

“You needn’t trouble yourself with a response; I will be waiting?”

You scrunched your nose. Quite presumptuous of him to assume you’d agree to meet. Still, there was no denying a part of you wanted to. You chewed your lip, deliberating.

The address listed was nothing grand—just a modest pub a short walk away. You were surprised he’d pick such an unassuming place, given the luxury he clearly embraced now. But after another moment, it began to make sense.

Of course he’d arrange to meet you somewhere simple, far from the haunts of nobility. He wouldn’t want anyone seeing him with you, after all.

You took a shaky breath, trying to banish the thought. Dio had changed, but was it fair to make such assumptions about him? Your encounter with him had been brief, yet there had been unmistakable glimpses of the boy you once knew peeking through this new, polished persona.

Perhaps, in that sense, Dio had been right to assume you would accept. Curiosity had always been a part of you, after all, and for all you knew, this might very well be the last time your paths would cross.

The crisp evening air caressed your cheeks gently as you made your way towards your destination. You’d done your best to tidy up, discarding your apron and kerchief, and dusting off as much flour from your woollen dress as possible. Before leaving, you’d thrown on a shawl for warmth, hoping to keep the chill at bay.

Your eyes drifted across the facade of the pub nervously. You could feel your heart stammering against your ribcage violently, threatening to break free from its confines. You chided yourself for the hesitance. Despite everything, you were only meeting an old friend.

With a shaky breath, you stepped inside, feeling your body relax as the warmth of the pub greeted you. The cosy interior was thick with mingling scents of food and drink. You scanned the room, almost ready to resign yourself to the idea that he’d played a prank, when you spotted him at last.

He was no longer donning the extravagant clothing you had last seen him in. This time, he had picked out something much more simple. He would have easily blended in with the crowd surrounding him were it not for his striking features. Your gaze was met by his and his lips curved into a subtle smile. Gathering your nerves and swallowing your apprehensions, you approached him. 

The noise and scents that had briefly overwhelmed you blended into a quiet simmer in the background as you sat down at the table Dio had seated himself at. He’d picked out a more secluded area, nestled away in the corner furthest from prying eyes. It did little to ease your suspicions regarding your meeting.

“Good evening,” Dio spoke smoothly, his guarded smile never wavering. You returned it with a slight nod and a tight-lipped smile of your own.

“Evening, Dio.”

“Are you hungry? Order whatever you like—I’ll cover it,” he offered, his tone cool and detached, yet there was something almost childlike in the gesture. Was he trying to flaunt his wealth?

You bit back a retort, holding onto the faint comfort of familiarity in this strange, newfound distance between you both.

You were seated in tense silence as you hesitantly picked at your food. Dio had not said much since ordering your meals and you couldn’t quite muster up the courage to do so yourself. You could sense this was weighing down on Dio as well, picking up on the subtle shifts in his expressions.

“(Name),” he finally broke the suffocating silence, his voice losing some of the coldness it had held. Your gaze snapped up to meet his expectantly.

He seemed to be carefully weighing his words before he spoke again, his voice hushed. For a brief moment, you saw flickers of a temperamental child with whom you had shared your happiest memories.

Finally, he spoke, the crease between his brows deepening.

“Life’s been somewhat dull without your company.”

You fell silent, your undoubtedly wide eyes staring straight into his. Something simmered underneath the surface that you couldn’t quite discern. You forced yourself to look away, resisting the pull of his gaze.

“Somewhat dull…,” you finally replied with a hint of wistfulness in your tone as your fingers traced idle patterns into the top of the table. A tightness rose in your chest. His words should have lifted your spirits, yet here you were, reading into them far too deeply.

Somewhat.

Had Dio always spoken this way? Or were your memories of him tinted by a rosy hue?

You managed a strained smile.

“I suppose I could say the same, although now that I work at the bakery, I don’t mind the repetitive days so much.”

Something in Dio’s smile tightened, his eye twitching just slightly at your words.

“So…Mr. Joestar treats you well?” you asked, taking another bite and hoping to lighten the atmosphere by steering the conversation elsewhere.

He nodded, and just like that, a more relaxed expression settled on his features once more. “Better than my father ever did,” he replied, taking a sip of his drink. His gaze shifted back to you, quietly assessing. You could still recall how he’d sometimes pause to observe people, studying every detail as if searching for hidden meaning. You never understood his fascination, though you’d always enjoyed hearing his theories on perfect strangers.

“That’s good. I’m happy for you, Dio.”

He tensed at your words again, though you couldn’t fathom why. You cleared your throat, breaking the tension.

“And his son? Jonathan, I think his name was? Do you two get along?”

His lips curled into a smirk for a fleeting moment, his expression darkening. “We didn’t always. But I’d like to consider us friends these days.” His tone carried an air of mystery, as if hiding something unsaid. As well as you had once been able to read him, you doubted you could still do it now.

You hummed noncommittally in response, unsure what to make of his response yet again.

“Are you content working for the baker?” he asked, gaze nailed on you.It was the first question he had posed all evening. You responded with a polite smile.

“Yes. He and his wife treat me well. It certainly beats stealing for a living,” you sighed, reminiscing on times you and Dio had done just that. “My wages are modest, but I have my own room, and I never go hungry.”

He fell silent once more, his eyes roving across your face curiously. It almost seemed as though he was looking for something—something that might contradict your words. Did he doubt your sincerity?

“What about friends? Do you have any?”

That stung a little. 

You worked to keep your face neutral. “I don’t have much time for friends. I suppose I have a few regulars I could call that, though.”

Dio’s demeanour shifted. “Charles,” he murmured, narrowing his eyes.

You smiled, raising your brows in mild surprise. “Yes, he’s one of them. You have a good memory, Dio.”

“You knew that already, (Name).” His response drew a lighthearted chuckle from you.

“Do you have any plans for your future?” he questioned, his gaze locked on you, mesmerising, unsettling. He almost reminded you of a hunter stalking prey. There was something off about him.

You considered his words briefly. Did you?

“I’m quite happy where I am. There’s not much else out there for me. With any luck, I can keep working for Mr. Haverford as long as he’ll have me.”

“Hm.” Dio sounded unimpressed.

“What about you? I assume you have something much grander planned for yourself?” your words were coloured with a tinge of sharpness. If Dio noticed it, he concealed it well.

“I’ll be studying law soon. Both Jonathan and I are set to attend Hugh Hudson Academy.”

You smirked. “I suppose I could see you as a lawyer. You are rather conniving.” That earned an amused eye roll from Dio. “Will Jonathan be following in your footsteps?”

There it was again—a twitch of his hand, a crack in his composure.

“No. He plans to study archeology. I suppose he has no need for a real occupation, so he’s free to study something so…frivolous.” The bitterness in his tone was barely concealed, seeping through his words.

You lowered your eyes, focusing on your cooling meal. The distance between you and your old friend seemed greater than ever. You couldn’t put a name to the feeling that overwhelmed your senses. 

Was it longing? Bitterness? You couldn’t make sense of it.

To your surprise, Dio offered to walk you home once you had finished your meals. Seeing no reason to protest, you had agreed. The walk was mostly silent, with only a few strained words exchanged between you.

“(Name),” he murmured, his hand reaching out to brush against yours as you reached the bakery. Your eyes flickered up to meet his. He withdrew his hand quickly.

“I will write. When I get back home, that is,” he said, his voice bold but his expression stony. You raised an eyebrow.

“I trust you will respond?”

You chuckled dryly. “You want to keep in touch with me?”

His brows furrowed ever so slightly. “I believe that was what I implied, yes.” 

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. “Very well, then. I will respond.”

He offered the barest hint of a smile, and, for a moment, you could see the friend you once knew. Perhaps he hadn’t changed as much as you thought.

“Goodnight, Dio,” you spoke softly, fishing out your key and heading for the door. You could feel his intense gaze on you as you fit the key into the lock. With a final glance over your shoulder, he gave a short wave and turned to walk away.

That sure was something.

As you clad yourself in your nightwear, your mind buzzed with the night’s events. You had him, but now that you had encountered him once more, you were feeling wary. Things between you felt strained, the warmth between you had cooled over the years. Still, the boy you had held dear was there, just, different. 

And he had insisted on writing.

The frostiness surrounding him was unsettling, but the lonely child within you was eager to push that feeling aside. 

Maybe it would be worth it. 

Even with the undeniable differences in your standings, you found yourself longing to rekindle your bond. A part of you, the younger self that still wanted to understand him, stirred hopefully.

As you tucked yourself into bed, your thoughts raced until, eventually, you drifted into a restless sleep.

[i-just-want-to-destroy]

the last chapter for walking study in demonology was CRAZYYY im so happy you updated. im so curious about what your thought process in writing it and if youre willing to share?? you dont have to if you dont want to btw! but in any case thank u so muchhh

hey thank you! appreciate it

okay super long answer below

honestly this one was difficult. idk if its bc its been a while since i write fics from scratch so i might have forgotten how difficult the whole thing is, but this one was tough. ch 8 wasnt from scratch tho cos i had the drafts since like 2022 or smthg lol

ik the formatting is non conventional in ch 8 and i was aware that itd be hard to read for some people. but i do think abt the readers often when i write.. mainly not what the readers want in terms of storyline (altho ofc i consider this too sometimes lol) but what the reading experience will be like for them.

i.e consider if id written the chapter in a linear, traditional way and narrated the confrontation between 1-A and LoV (or even other wackier “Villains” like godzilla and invading aliens or whatever). the truth is, although def easier to read, that version will be very boring.

(i know bc i tried and scrapped those versions.)

(im sure a better writer can write it interestingly but i am not a better writer.)

the thing w writing these traditional fight scenes is tht im sure — im 1000% positive in fact — that the readers have read it before. there r literally thousands and thousands of bnha fics out there with great fight scenes, on top of the actual manga, where youve read these characters fight their assorted villains. why would i make you read that again, esp when i know i cant do it better? i already know the readers r just gonna skim the chapter if thats the case. ive been a reader, ik what fic fatigue is like — esp with bnha when everythings been rehashed infinity times in infinity different ways.

same thing also applies with even the “metaness” of the fic itself.

i dont want the fic to come off like its talking down to readers, whom i believe alrdy have the instinctual knowledge of what the fic is trying to do. im willing to bet tht the readers have read something similar to this before, like multiverses n time loop n meta stuff, also cosmic horror. i still end up narrating some things even though often i feel im being too explanatory. i jst feel like the readers will know what im talking abt by virtue of their familiarity to the tropes involved.

therefore the least i can do is serve it in an interesting way, aka the fuckass formatting. like although the tropes im doing r done so many times before, at the very least i cld let the readers hopefully have fun by piecing it together puzzle-style with the fragmented formats — so its more of an experience thing rather than jst a lore dump. i dont like lore dumps, they can be condescending.

demonology def doesnt succeed in avoiding that however. in fact its fallen to that exact trap. ch 4 and 6, those r very lore-dumpy. i tried to make it fun w the humor dialogue style but its not perfect. i know tht by ch 8 that tricks alrdy old, and the readers have all the puzzle pieces at this point anyway so itd be even more repetitive than it alrdy is. even so i still feel im being too explanatory esp with the emotional arcs but thats a skill issue on my part

overall i feel demon can be more oblique and “elegant” in its mechanics.

but anyway, it IS crack… it was never meant to promise intelligence, least of all eloquence lmfao. its never meant to be taken seriously.

of course, at this point u can tell that i actually am taking it pretty seriously LOL. i never meant to write meta fiction. i have some gripes w it, namely that i feel meta fiction is used by weaker writers as a storytelling crutch n it can come off as lazy — demon is guilty of this too. but now that i end up writing meta fiction, i might as well fucking commit and try to push it as crazy as i can. if its not gonna be good, at least it can be interesting, or weird.

blah blah im yapping. point is, ik the end product might look very “random” and pastiche as if i was jst doing whatever i wanted … which, true … but it went thru a lot of trials and errors until this final version. you would not believe the amount of time ive rewritten this chapter, due to all those ^ considerations.

however i always knew i was going to start ch8 with the classic mary sue “fanfiction” — that segment was written a long time ago like in 2022/2023?? and mostly stayed unedited since, unlike the rest of the fic which i stripped and repainted and restripped again lol

ok thanks for reading abt my wack anime crack fic writing process that, again, shld not be taken seriously. i will admit however that i do put a lot of effort n heart into it so i cannot pretend i am aloof and disaffected. id be lying if i say its been easy. i consider it a miracle i updated at all. i keep saying its not meant to be taken serious but if i managed to make it even a little bit meaningful, id be very happy.

ah also. bnha ending actually forced me to scrap a lot of things too. but it kinda ends up for the better, maybe.

[peachymilkandcream]

Payment|Part 3|Mafia Levi x Evelyn

WARNINGS: noncon/dubcon, big age difference, kidnapping, slavery, violence, power imbalance, implied somnophilia, forced pregnancies, mind breaking, yandere behaviour, yandere themes, forced exhibitionism, sexual coercion, blackmail, etc.

===============================================

While the gown was finer than any Evelyn had ever touched before did it have to be so skimpy? True, she was little more than a glorified whore, but she would think for a man who wears such fine clothes he would have some class. But then again, he was a most likely a serial murderer and ran a highly illegal organization. Expecting class from someone like him was probably ridiculous anyway.

From head to toe he demanded perfection. Threatening her to do something with her hair and for fuck's sake to cover those bruises. But whenever she did anything it was always criticized for the smallest detail not being exactly as he had envisioned it. It was like he was dressing a doll, it had to be perfect down to a misplaced hair. She was not a person, but a trophy.

Finally when he was satisfied a small smug smirk came to his face. Whether that was because she looked perfect finally or he was gloating at the fact she had done as he requested she didn't know.

"Let's go then."

"Where are we going?"

"I'm throwing a little get together for all of my clients, and I wanted you to be there."

"To be your trophy I assume."

"Exactly. I'm a fan of making others jealous of everything I have. A pretty girl like yourself just pokes the bear even more."

Evelyn scoffs. "Maybe you'll poke it too much and they'll band together and get rid of you."

"Impossible. None of them have the guts. They all make their men do the dirty work, they're too afraid to become truly great."

"And you consider yourself to be truly great?"

"I wasn't born with a silver spoon in my mouth and a gold diaper on my ass. The Ackerman family worked for what they had."

She suppressed an eye roll, he was trying to appear humble. Anyone in a room with him for five minutes could pick up the arrogance he had under a cold and confident neutral face. But irrelevant, what she had to set her mind to now was finding some way to get help or escape during this event. Surely there would be people there who couldn't stand Levi, who would want to get revenge on him for something. Maybe that would be the ticket to her freedom, tricking some rotten old fool into freeing her and tearing down the head of a disgusting crime family.

"Then I suppose we shouldn't keep your guests waiting."

===============================================

As expected, his parties are elegant and dazzling, much like his penthouse. Elegant and gorgeous women surrounded by dangerous looking men. Evelyn wondered what each person's reason for being here was. Were they here to make a good impression? To buy guns and drugs? Or were they there undercover to undermine and bring down the demise of Levi?

"Something the matter my dear? You look pale." They had only been there a short time but already he was blowing cigarette smoke in her face, a glass of what could either be white wine or champagne in his hand.

"Fine, just these heels are making me feel a little lightheaded."

He frowns and hands her the glass he had in his hand. "Drink. Pray you'll get tipsy and forget about it."

Evelyn glared at him, but accepted the drink nonetheless. She needed something to calm her nerves, or else he'd know something was up and who knows what would happen to her.

"All your friends?" She nods her head to the partygoers.

"Tch. Don't be ridiculous. Most of them can't stand me."

"Then why invite them?"

"I find it amusing to watch them all scramble to prove their loyalty to me. They know I could have their families wiped off the face of the earth in an instant. They kiss my ass to keep in my good favor."

Without meaning to she caught herself staring at a woman. She was beautiful but that's not why she was staring, the resemblance between her and Levi was uncanny.

He followed her gaze. "My cousin, Mikasa and her dumpy boyfriend Eren."

"Does she work for you?"

"All the Ackermans work for me. I've made a good life for them."

"But you disapprove of her partner?"

"He's a deadbeat. But she's obsessed with him. There's not much to do, that's how kids are these days."

They relapse into silence for a few moments before Evelyn speaks up again.

"Aren't you going to greet your guests?"

Levi sighs and downs the rest of his drink. "I suppose I should. I hate socializing, but I find the more people who meet me face to face become that much more terrified of our family."

He drags her around to each of the guests, not bothering to introduce her or bring her into the conversations. She was mind-numbingly bored, and her feet were killing her in these shoes. Besides, she needed to find a way out of here.

"Please can I go sit down Levi? My feet are burning-"

He rolls his eyes, clearly finding her weak. "Fine. But sit right over there and don't move a muscle."

Evelyn follows his orders until he turns back to another guest. Once his eyes leave hers she hurries to what she assumes is the exit. Keeping her eyes on him the whole time she continues to hurry, not looking where she's going until she bumps into someone.

"Watch where you're going little lady, you're going to get hurt that way."

She turns and looks up at the man. Older, wrinkled and clearly a smoker and drinker by the smell of him. "Excuse me. I just had to get going."

"Now why is that? The party's just started."

Heat rushed to her face, she was being suspicious. "Going to the bathroom, sorry, I should've phrased that better."

His expression seems to lighten. "I see. Well you're going the wrong way, here, let me take you to them."

She follows along, trying not to appear annoyed. Maybe now was time for her plan b. "Do you know Levi very well?"

"I would say so."

"What's your opinion of him?"

"That's a mighty dangerous game you're playing. He's got eyes and ears everywhere, talk smack like that and he could have your remains thrown to the dogs."

A chill runs down her spine but she tries to ignore it. "He just told me himself that most people here dislike him, I was just wondering if that was true."

"It is. See even a man like myself thinks he's a little runt punk who thinks he's hot shit."

Hope flutters in her chest. "I bet part of you would like to get even with him."

"That is true, a part of me does."

She decided to be bolder. "You know what would really piss him off? If the girl he came here with was seen leaving with another man."

His eyebrow raised. "You would want to put me and yourself in danger like that?"

"Not in danger, he probably goes through a hundred women a week. What's one more? What do you say? Show that runt that he can't get whatever he wants."

The man considers it a second. "I don't think I'd mind being partners in crime with you miss."

"Please, my name is Evelyn, Evelyn Glass."

"Then I suppose I should tell you my name. Kenny Ackerman, at your service ma'am."

[flamemittens]

random OC ask: if your OC was in a modern!AU, what would their job be? what would their day-to-day life look like? would they be very similar to their canon conception, or different?

(the modern!AU can be in the fashion of your favored iteration, whether that is a 1:1 version of our universe, modern-with-magic, etc.)

The Devil's Advocate

Early mornings in the offices of Avernus Inc, law firm to the rich—and any poor souls desperate enough, of course—are always charged with delicious, anticipatory tension.

Josephine strides through the frenetic throng on her way to the main office, cutting any collateral enquiries off with a dismissive yet polite wave of her hand. The unfamiliar, inexperienced eye would blanch at the apparent chaos, but all who matter know that, in truth, within is only order and productivity—the fires of industry, burning in tribute to the firm’s bank account. Remaining focused is key, especially at this time of the day—for the boss will soon arrive, and there are certain…expectations.

There is one, however, who feels no such compulsion. As the PA enters the main office, she sees them, slumped in one of the chairs next to her desk, head in one hand, lazily flicking the desk toy in absent minded amusement. Or boredom. Likely the latter. The terms of their employment are a mystery to most, seemingly only here on Mephistopheles’ order—and Raphael seethes.

“You do know that you don’t have to hit it repeatedly, don’t you? Just once tends to do the trick.”

Haarlep sits up and then sprawls back in their chair to observe her approach. “Oh, I know, but where is the fun in that?”

Josephine smirks and moves around the desk, depositing the stack of client files before taking her seat in the high-backed, black leather chair. She nudges the mouse to wake her workstation. “Using something in the way it is meant to be used? How preposterous.”

“This is what I keep telling you, dear. Let go a little every now and then, exist out with the box you limit yourself to. Like that quaint little apartment of yours.”

“What of it?”

Haarlep draws lazy circles on the desk surface with an elegant index finger, tail swishing languidly back and forth. “So plain, so minimal. In need of much more nightly excitement than a risotto and a glass of Sauvignon Blanc.”

“What’s wrong with that? I like it dry.”

“That’s not what I hea—"

Josephine smacks Haarlep’s hand with the end of her fountain pen.

“Ouch, you cruel thing. That weapon is heavier than it has any right to be.” They pause for a moment, before tilting their head in contemplation, and asking “Montblanc?”

“Yes, the order arrived the other day by special delivery. Including the boss’s custom request.”

“The special ink colour?”

“Yes.”

“It’s red, isn’t it?”

“Technically, it’s vermilion. The colour of life and eternity.”

Haarlep sinks down in their chair in a show of cringing despair. “Of course it is.”

Josephine leans forward. “He wrote the invoice letter to the old widow with it. And added an extra touch too.”

“Despite the certainty of regret, pray, enlighten me” they say, from underneath the hand now covering their face.

“He scented it. With palmarosa and black pepper.”

Haarlep groans loudly and continues their dramatic slide downwards, off the chair and onto the floor. Korilla, on her way to the printer room, passes by the door, pauses, and backtracks to briefly observe the scene, before rolling her eyes and continuing on. Sometimes—well, most times where Haarlep is concerned—it is better to not get involved.

“Was that necessary? Are you quite alright?”

“So, you’re telling me—” they pause suddenly. After a brief moment she feels a nail tapping inquisitively on her shoes underneath the desk. “Nice Louboutin’s, dear. ”

“Irrelevant. But thank you.” They continue. “—he is scenting his correspondence now? How painful it is to bear this knowledge.” A deep sigh. “And what horribly expensive suit is he wearing today, then? The Prada again?”

“One of the Brioni ones, I believe.”

She can hear Haarlep grinning. “How do you know this, clever girl?”

“I know everything, Haarlep.” She smirks as they lift themself off the floor and back into the chair. “But on a serious note, I have seen him already this morning. When I dropped the case files off.”

“His mood?”

“Uncertain. Likely terrible. Definitely changeable.”

“I am unsurprised.”

Suddenly, there’s an increase in activity in the office beyond, a rise in tension which can only mean one thing. Haarlep leaps to their feet like a startled housecat, hurriedly straightening their clothes, in what must be the fastest movement she has seen them make in an age.

Raphael sweeps into the internal suite, scowling deeply, raw displeasure rolling off him in waves.

“Josephine, a glass of—”

“Already in your office, sir.”

The cambion’s frown lessens to a paltry degree. A minor victory, but a victory nonetheless, especially so early in the morning.

“You” he points a finger towards Haarlep, as he strides into his office. “Follow me. We have much to discuss.” The younger man walks over, turns back towards the PA, quietly mouths ‘Think of me, when I am gone’, and closes the door.

Josephine smiles. Hopefully he’ll be alive enough to go for lunch later, she thinks. No guarantees, though.

[rockingrobin69]

Trick or treat! 🎃🍂🍁

(I wanted to do a cauldron emoji because I was myself a cauldron of potions to my daughter's witch this year, but alas, none available)

Oh my god you went as a CAULDRON! That's too cool! Here's a treat just for you. Unfortunately we ran out of cauldrons in the AU making too.

Step... up

It’s a series of steps, meticulously calculated to a rhythm: somehow meant to look graceful and effortless when it’s anything but. Step, twirl. Step, jump. Stiffen in his arms, force yourself to un-wind, to loosen up: step, step, stop.

He’s panting, but he’s grinning, and he’s looking at you. “Better, Potter.” Coming closer. “That was at least a passable attempt.”

How does he make it seem so—you feel your own cheeks grow warm and telling. It’s like he was made with this in mind, the elegant curve of his legs and the jut of his hip, the way he walks is half-dance. His smile is something else, is like music, distant and alarming, makes your blood boil. Makes your heart jump. Twirl. You think you’d be able to memorise the steps a lot better if he weren’t so—ugh.

“Come on, we’ll run it again.” His hand is right under your nose. How does even his sweat smell good? You might be losing your mind. “Potter? Still with us?”

Unclear. You clear your throat and the answer’s still not there. “I’ll get it eventually,” you spit, a promise and a plea. A threat. You think. But Malfoy’s still smiling.

“Of course you will,” and you don’t even think he’s being an arse. “I never bet on a losing horse.”

That’s what you are to him, you remind yourself, and harden around it. A horse, a bet. You bet he does smile at horses just like that, before he uses them. Rides—you think you wouldn’t much mind to be used. You think, stop it, and also, ugh, just, enough. If only he weren’t so bloody beautiful.

“Come,” with a hint in his voice you can’t decipher, a touch of maybe uncertainty. “You do want this, don’t you? I’m not wasting my time?”

You don’t have to think about it. “Of course I do.” The whole thing, the lights and the focus, the trophy and the prize money you need too badly. Want… that smile on Malfoy’s face that you think might be coming more and more often, that you think might be a secret. A treasure, something too valuable for the old centre with the foggy mirrors, with the stained mats and the bad lighting.

“Good,” he grins. “If you want it, come and get it.”

It’s always the challenge that draws you to him. This dance, this routine, this—excuse—this whole thing is between you two right now. A series of steps, and a future you can almost-see, so clearly it’s nearly touchable, sharp on the tip of your tongue. Step, twirl, step, jump. You finish the set, and Malfoy’s smiling.