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tarjapearce · 2 months

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The Immorality Of Love (Prologue)

Duke! Miguel O'Hara x Courtesan! Reader

Synopsis: Pretty Woman but Victorian Era Inspired ~ jskjs.

A/N: So, watched Pretty Woman a bit ago and thanks to all of you that participated in the poll, you picked a Victorian Era Inspired! 🤭 And here is it, our new wee series :'). Hope you like! Thanks to my beta reader @oharasmommymilkers00 ❤️. Feedback is always appreciated ~

WARNINGS: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Mentions of death, character background, Angst, mentions of blood, implicit sexual activities, a bit of historical inaccuracy for the sake of the plot, Working and low class struggles, No use of Y/N, Violence, grief, social struggles.

Maybe it was the rain, the ever cold and gloomy weather that made Nueva York the antagonist of its neighbors states.

Bustling with the unceasing life through the day and night. The city never slept really, full of people chasing their dreams on a daily basis, despite dangers lurking around in every dark and forsaken corner.

Tall buildings and factories reached towards the sky in an attempt of growing larger than their competitors. The bigger the better, right?

Cause that would mean to have more employees to cover up the demand, right?

Wrong.

Despite the city flooding with rich and proud buildings, little were the amount of people that actually got to experience the decent living novelty.

Something surreal, a borderline utopia for those in the slums and west district as economy only seemed to thrive in the prettiest sectors of Nueva York, keeping the rich richer and the poor, poorer. Perpetuating the cycle of endless inequity among its gaunt and empty looking denizens.

Forsaking everything in the way of those that didn't have the luck of being born in a warm golden crib. The king had been having other project in mind, leaving his initials intentions of helping, behind.

But how long ago had he promised a change?

It didn't matter. Not when hunger, diseases, poverty and other horrors chased those excluded from privilege. They preyed on the weakest and sickest, working like a self imposed reaper, specially in what was considered the live sewers of the city.

Raggedy and rickety walls extended at every turn of sight, filled with children and their parents, bathed in filth and ash coming from the polluting factories, whose machinery always reminded the poorest of how life was. Creaking, loud, cold and unforgivably unstoppable.

Clothes were either stolen from others or simply removed from the bodies that succumbed on life's hardscrabbles without much thought.

Bodies were often tossed to the river as a cemetery charged a small fee for receiving the dead. Not even a spot in the earth was allowed for the unfortunates as they barely had the enough money to eat, much less to afford for their perpetual rest.

Choosing between burying a friend or relative and eat at least one time a day for a couple of days, was the constant doubt many had.

And so, the tradition of tossing bodies at the river started. Only to be stopped a few years after as the river fed the livestock, making them sick. A shortage of food and other miscellaneous had started.

If poors already suffered, the water's scarcity walloped with all it's might the slums, pushing people into desperate ways to survive, even if it was prolonging the suffering for another day.

Overripe bodies, swarmed with flies were often found by the police in the already tattered homes, the rumor of miasma running rampant in the slums only made the west district of Paxton more susceptible to inhuman treatment by the rich.

Back breaking jobs were in every way. Laundry that had the women and even men folding over a wall at the end of the day because their back ache was too much. The factories with their ominously tall chimneys spilling the same dark filth their occupants inhaled daily; The coal mines that had turned into a living gravestone, costing lives in a weekly basis among them.

Yet, the spots for a job were the main reason there were many revolts.

The situation turned critical when some richer fellows forbidded people from the slums to work in their factories. As some stole the goods.

The Prince however came up with a temporary solution that provided some relief for the oppressed. He forced the owners to either sell their companies, or provide 50 spots for the people.

For the rich it was rather easier to hire people than giving away the fruition of hard work over decades, just cause the prince thought occasionally in others.

Many families were benefited from the initiative. Including yours. And by family it'd mean, your mother and you. Both working class ladies renting a paltry room in the outer lands of the real slums. Your father had been long gone in a mine accident, or so you were told often. But in truth, your birth had been the outcome of an affair between a nobleman and your mother.

The man died in mysterious conditions a couple of months later. A heart attack apparently.

Your mother knew a bit of everything, earning a couple of favors here and there that slowly made you go to a community school.

"Just because we're poor must we remain ignorant and dirty."

Your education and hygiene always seemed her main concern, as she always talked about how you'd be a good society lady while she scrubbed the dirt off your childish fingers. How well you'd do on your own, and how you'd get a good husband to love you and cherish you.

But your youngling brain was only focused on working enough to get food. You'd understand her wishes later.

You worked in tandem with her in the factory. Children willing to work were given a relatively small payment depending on their labors.

Yours were daily food and occasionally clothes and other things, as grown-ups received money. Some saw it as an humiliation, others as help, since the parents wouldn't have to worry about their children being used as thieves, or worse, abused out there in the streets or being malnourished.

It worked well for a while, until death cut your mother's life thread in a vicious chop. The fumes in the factories often costed the health of so many, leaving children at the mercy of church or orphanages. Another problem that was addressed as soon as the upper class started to complain about the kid's gangs that snuck in the wealthy districts.

A police officer held you as you tried to reach for your mother's lifeless body. Imploring her to wake up from her forever rest as you were dragged away to an orphanage. You knew you wouldn't see her again, you knew they'd throw her to the river and feed the alligators and birds of prey with her flesh since she was mistaken as one from the slums.

The only memento you were allowed to keep from her in the orphanage was her golden chain. A trinket an officer gave to you before your mother was disposed off.

----

The first of the many nights in the orphanage were unforgivable cold. Girls of all ages remained within, the smaller ones cried for their mothers, others for her fathers. The eldest ones were either compassionate or bitter, there was no in between.

But you couldn't complain, you got food, a bath every day, clothes and soon established a little friendship with a girl named Aveline as you did your daily chores at the settlement. Daughter of a courtesan that was killed a couple months ago. She was fourteen, you were twelve.

At your sixteens you escaped with her, finding life in the orphanage too cruel and simply not good enough. She was eighteen, she was legally an adult and could take care of you. However, freedom didn't last much as she was arrested for disturbances and indecency, meaning being drunk on the streets as you were awaiting outside the bar.

You were dragged back to the authorities, but this time, instead of a orphanage they sent you to a convent. Trying to fix the rebel out of you, to leave a demure soul perfect for a working man.

But the solution only proved to worsen the problem. You escaped at your seventeens and to your surprise got reunited with Aveline, or Daisy as she went by on the streets.

She took you to her home, a room in the many brothels in Paxton. She had worked her way out of jail and met Madame Grevaille, that didn't hesitate into offering you a job.

"With a pretty girl like you, you'd have your own place soon!" The lady spoke, but neither her and Aveline pushed you into prostitution.

You helped around the brothel during busy nights, even after a long day at the factory. You caught the eye of a couple of noblemen as they visited Aveline, but politely, you rejected them. Mainly out of fear.

"I'm pretty sure that you'd get more money than I do. Just look at you! and look at me."

Aveline would slur sleepily as you caressed her hair. Your friend's health was slowly deteriorating thanks to an excessive lifestyle.

"You know I couldn't do it. I'm not as brave as you are."

"Imnot brave." She yawned, "I'm just a young woman that must work in the world's ancient labor to be able to eat and provide."

"I'm sorry. For being a burden." A tinge of shame washed over you upon knowing that Aveline was the one that basically carried the burden of rent in her shoulders. Even though you had a job, it didn't pay enough to help Avy, as you called her, the way you wanted to.

And Madame Grevaille was always willing to teach you the arts of seduction, to lure the right kind of gentlemen that paid more than enough to subsist for couple of weeks. Or. months if you knew how to properly play your cards.

"You're not. I know this is everything but what your mother would want for you, but... we've never been a priority to those with power unless we fill even more their pockets, my dear." She curled in your lap, relishing in your soft caresses. An appalling contrast of some of her rowdy client's treatment.

"I know. I know you don't do this cause you like it."

"The only thing I like is when they pay and leave. Except for Mr. Nimeux. That man can use me at his whims all he wants." She giggled sleepily as a fleeting memory of the man came into her head.

"Ugh, Avy, stop."

"Just saying, You'd make a whole lot of money with your virginity."

You gasped, faking offense, "Who says I'm a virgin?!"

"Oh, stop it. Jacob Billard doesn't count."

You both laughed. But deep down in your mind knew it was the only way a woman could get afloat. The new Duke seemed to be lax enough to approve a law to let women work in several other jobs. Construction included. There were revolts, as usual, but again, it proved to benefit the poor.

Your position towards royalty was everything but good, of course you acknowledged their attempts of improving the city since the king was currently busy with other royal things that couldn't wait.

But it also shaped your 'Deeds not words' mantra. You believed more in actions than fancy words.

Even though the years had passed by, there was little changes in the slums. Thankfully, you and Aveline had been able to move to the outer and west district's brothels with the help of another Madame called Susan Lewis, once you hit your eighteens.

Away from the true mess that walloped nonstop the people. You got a tattoo to celebrate it. A beautiful violet on your back.

But despite moving, people's mindset remained the same. Men's specially. And the man that accompanied Aveline for the night wasn't any better.

Her room was often visited by strangers, always perfumed with rich lavender incense around the room to conceal the smell of sex in the air. Some were gentle enough to leave Avy a tip, others made every penny worth by asking the most ridiculous of things. Or so Aveline told you.

But this one was definitely being not nice to her. Despite the many times you tried to intervene with her clientèle, Aveline always told you that she was alright, that it was all part of the fantasy.

Sometimes her client was angered by the intrusion and left. This would make Avy to remain angry with you for a couple of days. However, upon hearing her calling for help, flared your alarms right away.

"You must remain quiet!" The loud slap, a bottle breaking and Aveline's shriek was more than enough for you to bolt in the room without much thought.

The man was big, a bit burly, and was definitely manhandling your best friend way too rough for her and your likings.

Aveline fought, despite her being naked, you took the broom and broke it on the man's back, that grunted and staggered away in pain. Anger and fear pumped through your veins in equal parts as you grabbed the jagged bottle and pointed it at the man.

If you were both to die, at least you'd go fighting.

"Back the fuck off!" You yelled

The man snarled and tried to reach for you, but if mingling with prostitutes and thieves had taught you something, was to defend a friend, even if you were terrified to your very core.

"You whore!"

You slashed with the sharp part of the bottle, wherever it landed. To your luck it went on the assailant man's face. Slicing flesh on his right cheek.

He roared in pain, but looked at you fascinated, angry and horrified. A chill ran down your spine.

"Get out! Now!"

Despite your limbs trembling, you sliced through the air with silent warnings, the man escaped when Aveline started to call for help through the window while you protected her.

You made sure the man had escaped and locked the door, just in case he decided to take a proper revenge on you both. Aveline's arms went immediately around you, crying with pained yelps and sobs.

"Hey" You mumbled as she wobbled,

"I'm here, it's over." You whispered while helping her to the bed, covering her bruised body with the sheets to spare her some dignity. Not that you were ignorant to a naked body, you helped Avy to get ready or draw her and the others at the brothel a bath after all.

"It hurts." She whined as you wiped the blood out of her cheekbone and nose.

"I'm sorry, Avy."

She grunted as she closed her eyes "D-Did he pay?"

Your heart sunk both in anger and sadness. This was exactly one of the reasons why you didn't become a courtesan. Too many risks, including the probability of getting beaten or killed by your clients, if not their wives.

"He didn't."

----

Madame Lewis and Grevaille were the first in appearing in the scene, they tended to Aveline's wounds and let her rest. You were in your room, racking your brain over the events, when Madame Lewis approached.

"You did a good job protecting Aveline."

"I was as scared as she was, Ma'am."

"Still, you did it well. May I sit?" You nodded as the lady sat a few inches of your bed.

"Have you... considered my proposal?"

"Against all odds. Yes. I wanted to avoid this as much as I could but... Avy is beaten, rent approaches, the factory doesn't pay me well enough and we have to eat."

"Being a courtesan is far from being honorable, dear-"

"With all due respect, ma'am, respect won't bring food to my table. I knew that sooner or later it would come to this."

"Need pushes us to do the unthinkable, dear. But fear not. If you work for me, I'll teach you the right kind of people to seek."

You heaved a defeated sigh, mentally asking your mother for forgiveness for the path you were about to take.

"Could you give me a couple of days more? I want to have enough money to buy all those things you told me I'd need."

"Of course, dear. Please let me know if you need something else."

----

"Even though I'm not that fond of you turning a courtesan, Im happy we'll finally get to leave this damned place. I was thinking in getting an apartment on Brasswood Avenue. Men in there are clean, and they're not animals like these fuckers."

Avy mumbled as you got ready to leave for work at the factory.

"I need you to help me pick some stuff, can you accompany me?"

"Of course! Will get you to this pretty store. I've befriended the owner. One of us, actually."

You stared at her for a moment.

"Have you picked your name yet?"

"My name? What's wrong with my name?"

"Well, it's pretty but you need like an alter ego, so in case police gets hungry with our money, you give them a fake name."

"I don't know. I didn't know I needed one."

"What about... Violet? Like your tattoo?" Aveline secured your apron on your back as you combed your hair.

"Hmm. Doesn't sound bad."

"Then Violet is it!."

You took your pouch of money and hid it.

"Remember as soon as you leave, come meet me at Millport's Avenue. We'll go shopping!"

Avy sung and you chuckled.

"Goodbye, Miss Daisy."

"Goodbye, Miss Violet."

You left, without knowing those words would turn into a bitter reality.

---

Four pm and still no signs of Aveline. Five soon arrived, and Millport's avenue was bustling as usual with people but today it seemed crowded.

"A woman was found dead. Dear god..."

You blinked at the overheard information. But soon the police's rushed steps alerted you as they turned into a familiar corner.

Heart pounded in your ears the more you approached. Breath hitched as you waded in the small crowd that gathered in an alley you crossed during the mornings.

"Back away! Leave the police work, dammit!" One of the police officers yelled at the journalist and curious that gathered to witness the macabre scene.

Tears couldn't help but flood your eyes upon your sight landed on the ever familiar blonde strands that you sometimes found in your hairbrush.

No...

Now stuck to her face, thanks to the bloody glue that stained not only her neck but the cobblestone floor too. A deep gash in her throat had been done. Your best friend had been murdered

"Aveline!!" You cried and rushed to her side. But the police prevented you from going further.

"Stop!"

"Avy! No! Let me go! She's my best friend!" You sobbed in between struggles against the officer's arms, that were everything but comforting to your aching soul.

Everyone watched in horror as Aveline's body was covered, her horrified eyes remained in your mind. Forever burnt into your memories. She died being afraid and not of an old age and rich as she had confessed you once.

The police interviewed you, but what was the point, knowing the investigation would turn into another cold case? Like the many before? None was really safe.

Madame Lewis and Grevaille visited you that night, but their comfort was little. There was no solace you could find in them. You had lived with Aveline for three years. Her short life had ended at twenty two, her mother's story resonatiin her own. And there was no signs of the culprit nor the police's intentions to find him.

But life kept going. The world wouldn't stop for a moment to give you truce to mourn.

Madame Lewis took you in since the rent on your place was too much on your own. It felt like receding big time. But what could be done?

Aveline shared your body size, but even so, you refused to steal from your freshly murdered friend. The only thing you did was to save her most important things in a bag. Papers, some books she loved despite them being intact.

It gave Avy a sense of importance, since she always adviced you to be as knowledgeable as possible. That some men loved that.

And the praying beads she stole from the sister that loved to spank the little girls back at the orphanage you both met in.

Madame Grevaille kept the jewels and dresses as a payment for what Aveline owed her. Despite the cold hearted action, she allowed you to keep one thing of each.

You kept a pearl necklace a nobleman had gifted Avy once and made you promise to keep it safe, and a black cashmere shawl she always put on when parading herself in the streets.

It was your own way to have her close.

Aveline was no more. Forever lost into a man's derangement. So many doubts plagued your mind, but one thing was certain, you were to leave Paxton's district. One way or another.

------

Night had just started, and you had just finished your makeup. A bit of powder on your cheeks, rouge on your lips in�� subtle yet inviting way always did the trick, some violet perfume misted your skin, giving a delicate yet enhancing aroma.

Dress in a perfect blue and white with black frills, Black stockings and boots, Avy's shawl draped on your shoulders along a matching bonnet.

You took a bag and left your apartment. Located in Brasswood Avenue, a relatively middle class area in Tevinter's district. Just like Aveline always wanted.

Five years had gone by since her murdering, five years that had you working your way out of Paxton, to finally be comfortably living in the outskirts of Manhattan.

And still, the courtesan mantle never left you. Thanks to it you could afford what you had, your clients were middle and upper class men that paid you enough to not suffer hunger or insecurity.

Madame Lewis's advices had taken you this far. The carriage dropped you to your usual spot, only to walk for a few minutes before arriving at your clientèle's location.

Beautifully decored homes, and buildings Aveline used to boast about, were now your daily route. Donning the streets with your presence and violet and citrus infused perfume. Five pm was a good hour to start, tonight's goal was to make at least enough to buy that rose perfume you saw at a shop in the Manhattan area.

A smell that would definitely attract royalty even.

Some men stared your way, discreet yet leering smirks hidden behind a polite facade. Some had their companions, whose disdainful and undignified stares were more than expected. Specially if their husbands stared for too long.

Others, despite the rich-looking clothes and apparent status, sent whistles your way. Those were the kind you avoided as they often either ended up paying half or got violent if something wasn't done their way.

Your type would be men, that barely glanced your way or gave a brief scrutinizing gaze, widows or recently divorced, cause one way or another you'd end up their contact list.

Some had been clients over the years, some stopped as they remarried or have kids, only for them contacting you again to have an outlet from their domestic life.

Even women had joined in your repertoire. But au contraire of men, they only called for talk. It was rare when they indulged you physically.

Thanks to that, you gained a bit of reputation within those inner circles that somehow shared a table at social gatherings. Everyone knew their role as pretenders, even you.

Getting attached to clients were out of the list. Thankfully none you shared your charms with had said intention, and it was perfect. It worked in immaculate harmony with your rules and profession.

Clock hit soon six pm and the streets seemed a bit less busy. Soon, the smile of a familiar face came your way

"Hey, Vi!"

Violet. The name had stayed for good. The persona you transformed yourself almost every night in had taken over to stay. Your own persona way too dormant and comfortable in a corner to wake up, letting life happen.

She stopped coming out to life's stages ever since Aveline's murder.

"Any news so far, Jeannie?"

Jeannie or Jeanette, your occasional roomie and new friend. A similar story of yours, with the only difference was that she never really knew her family and was too rebellious to be kept in the convent or orphanage.

She was tall, a ginger with the most adorable set of freckles you've seen so far. Beautiful green eyes and would easily pass as a noblewoman with the right set of clothes adorning her model like body. Jeanette was gorgeous.

You took her in after you found her in the streets of Millport, beaten, with a black eye. Her client had been too rough with his fantasy and her madame was everything but helpful.

You got her to Madame Lewis which gladly took her in. And now, after shooing away another intruder in your zone, she hugged you. Her cherry perfume tickled your nose, announcing it's presence to your demure floral scent.

"None. Been waiting here for quite a while. Just drunkards, until a gorgeous nobleman asked me to wait here for him."

"Oh? What did he look like?"

"None like the hunks you attract, thats for sure."

You chuckled.

"I've got a feeling tonight's gonna be a good night."

"I hope so. I need that new perfume and some new ribbons."

"Oh? You wanna go for the top dogs?!"

You giggled, and shook your head.

"No, well, yes. Maybe. I smelled it? And I went to heaven. Can you imagine the effect it could have in a man?"

"More money, obvious."

Jeanette giggled but quickly stopped upon looking at a carriage approaching.

"That's your cue, Violet."

"You think?"

Some people gasped upon the carriage suddenly hopping on the walk, startling some. Horses neighed, uneasy.

The carriage rider hopped off, muttering a flurry of Spanish gibberish while grabbing his luscious hair in an angered fit. Tall was a measly word to actually describe him.

His fancily dressed chest heaved as he backed away from a neighing horse. Defeated and irked.

You watched curiously as the man pulled out a map from his pocket and glared holes at it. Confusion was evident ad he turned the paper around

Jeanette elbowed you softly. Making her signaling less obvious as if saying 'Stop playing and go for him'

"Fine. If I get killed, you know who to blame."

You hushed before adjusting your corset and cleavage, Jeanette pinched your cheeks to give them a bit more of blush.

"Relax, it's gonna be a good night, remember?" Jeannie winked your way and pushed you on your way, gently.

With a deep breath, and your shawl secured, you approached to the man.

----

#miguel o'hara #t writes✨#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #The Immorality Of Love #Royal AU #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel x you #atsv miguel

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fattystoriez · 8 days

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Trent was an only child raised by just his father. His mother had left his father for a richer man when Trent was only 8 years old. Trent and his father were very close before Trent left for college right out of high school on a basketball scholarship. Trent hadn’t visited for the holidays, which made Trent feel guilt for leaving his father all alone, with only a little communication back and forth. So Trent decided to go back home for Spring break, his father had presumably found a partner who really wanted to meet Trent, he was excited to see his father was doing well.

Trent arrived home and walked right in, announcing himself. “Hello? Dad?? Anybody home?!” As Trent walked in the house was a mess, junk food trash everywhere. Trent’s father was usually healthy… Trent couldn’t imagine his dad ever touching any junk food. There was a smell of musk and piss, stained jockstraps all over the place.

Trent makes it to he living room which was a major source of the smell, his dad was sitting in a chair in the living room. He looked wildly different, his healthy average hairless body seemed to have ballooned into a fat guy topped by a set of tits. He was bald now, a spotted a heady beard. He has a cigar in his mouth, one that seemed to have just been lit.

“Welcome home Piggy, I’ve missed you so much.” Trent’s dad opened his arms stretched out for a hug.

Trent was taken a back… how could this be his father? This man was a fat disgusting slob, the complete opposite of his dad. “Dad? What happened to you?”

“So this is the Piggy I’ve heard so much about!” A giant fat man walked in, wearing only his camouflage underwear. He was graying, definitely older than Trent’s father. His bulge was massive, the tip soaked in pre-cum. He walked right up to Trent and put his hand on his arm “You’re quite the skinny guy, not nearly plump enough to be a pig.”

Trent pushed away “What the fuck? Dad what’s going on here… who is this disgusting man?!” Trent’s head started to feel light, he was starting to get dizzy.

“It’s daddy for now on pig, and this is your paw. I met him at the bar a couple months ago” Hiw could these changes happen in a just a few months? “He told me he could make my life better and help me get you back home.” Trent’s father blew out a plume of smoke into his son’s face.”

Paw got behind Trent and pulled his shirt off “this will give you some room piggy” Trent was so confused, but oddly getting very horny. Paw got Trent in his knees, whipped out his fat cock and huge balls. “I’m so full piggy, time to fattened up this hog!” Paw forced his cock into Trent’s mouth.

After not a few pumps down Trent’s throat Paw was ready to bust his load into Trent’s mouth. It was like his balls has gallons of cum, causing Trent to feel full.

Trent’s body filled out with lard covering his once slender, lean body. His stomach pushed out and jiggled with soft fat, starting to form rolls on his body. “Ughnnnn” Trent moaned as he groped his fat body. “What’s are you doing to me?!” Trent was starting to get hard. Trent was trying to fight away, stop this from happening, but he was beginning to give in.

Paw and Daddy began to play with Piggy’s fattening body, they start to push into his soft rolls. Daddy began to shove junk food like pizza, doughnuts and shakes into Piggy’s mouth.

Piggy’s underwear started morphing into a black jockstrap, his blubbery body hanging over his waist. Piggy grew a full beard that showcased the milkshake staying around his mouth. Piggy’s body had become so huge, so far from the lean body he had moments prior.

What was once a college basketball player, is now a Piggy for his fat slobbish daddies to force to grow fatten and fatter. Trent sometimes makes it to the surface, his horror of being so huge and disgusting later turned into a grotesque horniness. There was no more Trent, only Piggy.

#male weight gain story #weight gain story #weight gain tf #male tf #fat gain tf #male weight gain stories

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heliads · 5 months

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'homesick, but not for home' - kaz brekker

Based on this request: "y/n finally gets to visit their home country after years away in ketterdam with the crows. a sweet little slice of life with kaz finally getting to be kaz rietveld"

masterlist

merry christmas everyone! my present to you is kaz

Receiving a summons from Kaz Brekker usually means one of two things: either you are about to be murdered, or he is going to ask you to do something before he murders you. Usually, that task involves the distribution of funds from your ledgers to his. However, as one of the bare few who has the privilege of making it to his inner circle, you would wager that there’s a third possible outcome from hearing from him: he still wants you to do something, but you’ll be killing someone else.

Nonetheless, judging by the expression of the courier who tells you that Kaz is expecting you in his office, even being spared an imminent death doesn’t mean that this meeting will go pleasantly. Dirtyhands has a reputation around here, one just as dark and choking as those black gloves he so loves to wear. No one here knows Kaz as anything more than a shadow of a man, a killer, a convict. To learn that he wishes to speak to you is akin to hearing that Death itself is knocking on your door.

You, however, just smile and turn your feet towards the stairs leading to Kaz’s office instead. The Slat, home of the Dregs, is a rickety ramshackle of a building. Kaz has been doing his part to fix it up as he can, but the floorboards are still masterfully creaky and the oil lamps flicker ominously from their resting places beside each looming door. The stairwell is worst of all, a towering, beckoning talon that delivers you to your fate at the very top.

Sometimes, you swear Kaz put his office on the top floor just because it would give his victims more time to contemplate their quickly approaching demise when they had to climb all the way up. Other days, you just assume that he was sick of the noise and wanted to find a place where nobody would bother him unless absolutely necessary. Knowing Kaz, both rationales are probably sound.

You knock once on the door to his office and, upon hearing your name called to come in, twist the doorknob and let yourself inside. Gathered in a loose semicircle on the few available pieces of furniture as well as leaning against the wall are Inej, Jesper, Wylan, Matthias, and Nina. Kaz sits, as usual, ramrod straight in a chair behind his desk, and gestures for you to take the final open seat.

“Looks like everyone’s here,” you note. “Should I be worried about missing anything?”

“Not in the slightest,” Jesper chirps. “Only that Kaz has been saving that chair for you this whole time. He keeps glaring at us whenever we so much as look towards it.”

Jesper looks as if he’d like to gossip about this a little more, but Wylan digs a sharp elbow into his side, causing the other boy to complain heartily.

You just grin, sliding into your seat. “Good. I deserve luxury. I was never made to sit on the ground.”

Kaz coughs pointedly to disguise what you’re sure is a smile. “Now that we’re all in attendance, we can get started. I’ve heard news of a prospective business deal happening off the coast of the Southern Colonies. Expensive materials are being exchanged. Jewelry, artwork, the like. It’s all being conducted by Kerch merchers, but they took everything offshore to avoid the chance of getting caught. If we swoop in the night before and take all their bargaining tools, we’ll be richer and they’ll have to cave to our demands.”

“Of course, our demands,” Nina says, nodding. “What are we demanding, again?”

Inej smiles. “For them to stop breathing down our backs, for one thing. Also, they keep trying to cut into business. They needed this deal for an alliance between some of the wealthier merchers, but if each party thinks the other stole their riches before the swap, they’ll be so busy with infighting that they won’t bother us for some time.”

Kaz inclines his head gravely. “Precisely.”

Inej taps her fingers silently against her leg. “My question is when we’re going to stage the attack. We can attempt to hijack the ships before they leave the harbor, but I have no doubt that they’ll be crawling with stadwatch.”

“That’s why we’ll be sailing along with them,” Kaz clarifies. “The heist won’t happen until we’re on the shores of the Southern Colonies. That way, they’ll have let down their guard.”

Immediately, everyone reacts. Leaving the Barrel is an invitation for everything to go wrong. If rival gangs like the Dime Lions or the Razorgulls find out that Kaz’s inner circle isn’t in town, they’ll hasten to loot the place or kill your foot soldiers before anyone gets back.

“We have to leave the country?” Inej asks doubtfully. “That’s a tremendous risk.”

Kaz’s expression doesn’t shift a second, but you can still sense him tensing somehow, all too aware of the extra burden on his staff to maintain decorum and avoid attracting threats from his many enemies. “Think of it as a vacation. You’ll be able to get out of the city and go somewhere nice. Maybe even get some seaside air.”

Jesper snorts. “Kaz, your idea of a vacation is locking the door of your office and not running your numbers for five minutes. I didn’t think seaside air existed in your vocabulary except as a potential source of weakness.”

Kaz frowns. “Of course seaside air exists in my vocabulary. How else would I know to say it?”

Jesper rolls his eyes and looks as if he’d like to counter that with an equally terrible argument, but you cut him off. “I’d like to go,” you say suddenly.

All eyes turn to you. “Why?” Wylan asks.

A faint smile plays upon your lips. It’s easier to look at the ground than face all of their inquisitive stares, so you do just that. “I’m from the Southern Colonies. Used to be, at least. I’d always planned on going back at some point, but never got the chance until now.”

Truth be told, you were assuming that you would never get that chance. Your parents moved your whole family down to Ketterdam when you were about ten years old, drawn by the call of a quick profit. They were able to eke out a few tentative years, but the city swallowed them like it does everyone else. It’s just you now, you and the Crows and the dream that at one point, you might be able to revisit the place you once called home.

Even connecting ‘home’ and the Southern Colonies in the same sentence seems like something out of a dream. You’ve lived in Kerch for so long now that you can hardly imagine being anywhere else. The Crows are your family, the Barrel your home. It’s a strange life, certainly, but it’s yours.

Kaz’s face closes down. “I’ll go with you. Inej, you and the rest will maintain the Crow Club and its affiliates until we return. I don’t want to risk all of us on one endeavor.”

Matthias arches a brow. “You are willing to brave the risk of splitting up, though?”

Kaz turns a bemused expression his way. “Are you worried about me, drüskelle? And here I thought we’d never see eye to eye.”

Matthias snorts. “Don’t go that far, demjin.”

“I won’t if you won’t,” Kaz muses. “The plan is set, then. We’ll have three weeks to plan, and then Y/N and I will set off.”

He allows the rest of the Crows to leave, but gestures for you to stay. You pull your chair closer to his desk, sensing that the discussion will shift into more details of the mission at hand.

Once the last of your friends have gone, Kaz turns his gaze to you. His eyes seem to stare straight through your skull, and you get the strange feeling that he could read every thought created inside your mind if he just bothered to listen a little closer.

“You said you were born in the Southern Colonies. I need to be certain that there will be no distractions for a job like this. Can you swear to me that you’ll be focused?” He asks you.

“It won’t be an issue,” you assure him. “I’ll see the countryside and then move on. Honest.”

“Well, I should hope you won’t be completely honest,” Kaz murmurs, the corners of his lips pricking up into a slight shade of a smile. “We are still robbing people, of course.”

“Of course,” you laugh. His eyes jerk up when you do, his gaze hungry for the sight of it.

And– see, this is where you start to get into trouble. You are a criminal, a member of a gang. Every day is a fight. You know that survival is the thing that matters most in the Barrel, survival and how much money you can make off of delaying your last breath. You need to have single-minded focus totally centered around how you are going to make it through each day, but instead, your brain has started drifting to unreasonable topics like the precise shade of Kaz’s eyes or all the techniques he uses to hide his smiles.

It won’t serve you well, this feeling like a slow burn in your chest. Kaz would be the very first to tell you that weakness will only get you killed. People are a weakness. Is Kaz, though? Sometimes, in vague moments in between the times when reality comes firmly back to ground you, you can almost imagine that he might feel the same way. Would he really entertain this idea if he didn’t feel something for you? Would he leave the Barrel to go all the way to the Southern Colonies with you if he could easily send Jesper or someone else?

In the end, all you can ever do is push the thoughts from your mind. The scheming and planning period has got to be your least favorite part of a heist, but unfortunately, it’s also the segment that takes the longest. Every detail has to be perfect or all involved will be caught in the act.

Eventually, though, you find yourself shipping out on a fine sea morning, headed towards the country that hasn’t been yours since you were a child. You and Kaz are pretending to be business partners, which is true enough. His cabin is next to yours. You’re fairly sure he already knows the identity of every other traveler on the ship, just in case.

Standing on the deck and watching Ketterdam retreat into a nameless speck on the dark, vast ocean, you can’t help but wonder what the Southern Colonies will bring your way. Your heart is surprisingly light in your chest at the thought of it. You have dim recollections of the rolling hills and drifting tides, although even these memories have grown hazy with time. You can’t wait to see it again.

By contrast, Kaz, standing by your side, seems far less thrilled about the whole idea. His black gloves are clenched tightly around the railing, his grip hardening whenever the ship tilts too much. You glance around to make sure no other travelers are within earshot, then ask him with a questioning glance, “Why would you make this trip if you don’t like the ocean?”

Kaz shoots you a wary look. “I’m perfectly fine with it.”

You scoff. “Nonsense. You look as if you’d like nothing more than to drain the entire True Sea and simply walk to the Southern Colonies on foot. You could have sent Inej or Jesper in your place, you know. Why’d you want to go?”

“I have to make sure the job goes smoothly,” Kaz informs you. “Business is best handled by myself.”

You arch a brow. “Lovely. Good to know that you’ll never let something pesky like sea travel stand between you and your ambitions.”

Kaz snorts. “I should hope you’d already know that. And to answer your unspoken question, you’re here too because it’s foolish to take international jobs without someone at your back just in case of trouble. I trust you to not let homesickness for the Southern Colonies get in the way. I would advise you to stick to that.”

You smile. “Goodness, Kaz, you trust me? No wonder you didn’t want anyone else with us, if the rest knew you were shelling out compliments this easily they would have teased you for years.”

In the corners of your peripheral vision, you swear you can see a matching smile slide onto Kaz’s lips, but it’s gone the second you turn to look at him. “Precisely my thinking.”

The journey takes shorter than expected, or maybe that’s just your restless thinking. In no time at all, your ship is docking at a port of the Southern Colonies, and you’re turning in a slow circle on the coast, taking in every single sight you can.

“Careful,” Kaz tells you, “You don’t want to come across as too strong of a pigeon. We don’t want to attract any new friends who anticipate stealing something off of us.”

He’s smiling, though, and you swear there’s something a little lighter in his expression than you usually see. Maybe it really is the sea air getting to him, or maybe the fact that he’s out of Ketterdam’s grimy clutches lets Kaz relax even a fraction.

Regardless, you’re happy for it. “Ridiculous,” you say, laughing slightly. “Not all the world is like the Barrel, you know. We don’t do that sort of thing in the Southern Colonies.”

“We?” Kaz asks doubtfully. “Three steps you’ve taken off the ship and you’re already a proper citizen again, are you?”

You just grin. “What, are you jealous? Scared I’ll leave the Barrel?”

He doesn’t answer, but quickly changes the topic towards finding accommodations for the night and planning out an intelligence trip near the location where the jewels are being held. Even walking through the portside town and crossing the streets feels like magic, in a way. You lived not far from here, and everything from the curve of the avenues to the bright sun in the sky feels like coming home.

As it turns out, you and Kaz aren’t the only ones affected by the easy way of life in the Colonies. The two merchers you’ve been tracking are discussing business in broad daylight, obviously not anticipating anyone to have followed them. The job will be easy, and the few days you gave yourselves for extra planning are largely useless since no more details are relevant.

Instead, you take it upon yourself to explore the surrounding countryside. You tell Kaz that he doesn’t have to accompany you every time, of course, he can stay back in the portside town if he pleases, but he still goes with you. It’s funny, the more time you spend away from the city, the more you watch the burdens slowly lift from his shoulders, the light return to his eyes.

One time, while walking through a wooded path, Kaz tells you it’s because this reminds him of his home, as well. He grew up on a farm, once, under a different last name and in a different life. He’ll never have that time of his life back again, nor, you think privately, will you have yours, but it’s still lovely to wander around here and pretend that you could.

The job goes off without a hitch. Soon enough, you find yourselves sitting pleased with jewels and artwork hidden away in your luggage, all items recovered without their owners batting so much as an eye. You’ll leave early in the morning before they can notice you. You feel a pang in your heart at the thought of leaving already, but you hadn’t realized you weren’t the only one thinking about it until Kaz visits your room at the inn late that final night.

You had known it was him at your door from the moment you heard his crisp knock against the wooden paneling. No one else moves or lives like Kaz, with so much precision. When you let him in, though, he looks more wild than you’ve ever seen him. His hair, for once, has lost its impeccable style and gone wild and unkempt. His shirt is wrinkled and rolled up to the elbows. It would still be a good look on him were it not for the fact that you’ve never seen him so little put together in the entire time you’ve known him.

Kaz doesn’t say a word until he is certain that the door is shut and bolted behind him. Then, all of a sudden, the words burst out of his throat, so beseeching that you have to wonder how in Ghezen’s name he managed to keep them from you for so long. “Don’t stay here,” he says. “Come back with me.”

You frown. “Who said I was staying? We’ve both got tickets on the ship departing next morning, Kaz.”

He waves a hand frustratedly to signal his disbelief in this statement. “Tickets don’t mean a thing. I need you to say it.”

“I did,” you frown. “Where else would I go?”

“Here,” Kaz says heatedly. “I’ve seen the way you look at the buildings, this place. You want to say here. Don’t you do it, Y/N.”

You shake your head softly. “I love it here, yes, but it’s not my home anymore than Ravka across the sea. I’m going back to the Barrel, Kaz.”

“With me,” he says uncertainly.

“With you,” you confirm. “Goodness, Kaz, did you really think I would stay? How could I do such a thing?”

“It’s very easy for people to leave,” he tells you. There’s a heaviness in his eyes that reminds you of brothers that have been buried, of farms that have long been sold to undeserving families that were not his.

“Not me,” you whisper. “Not if it was you I was leaving.”

His eyes, which have been sweeping your figure this entire time, looking for some twitch of a finger or jump of a pulse to betray you for lying, leap up to yours again. “Okay,” he says at last. “Okay.”

He leans back slightly, wavering on his heels. “I– I’ll go back to my room, then.”

Kaz doesn’t look as if he much savors the idea, and you decide to spare him from his thoughts, just in case. “You can stay here, you know.”

A soft breath is released. “That would– I could do that.”

He does. And, as your candles burn closer to the quick, as the night settles over this city, you cannot help but be glad for the time when you’ll find yourself in a different one. It has been nice to be here, but you would like to go home. And, most importantly of all, you are glad that Kaz will be there with you.

grishaverse tags: @rogueanschel, @deadreaderssociety, @cameronsails, @mxltifxnd0m, @story-scribbler, @retvenkos, @mayfieldss, @eclliipsed, @gods-fools-heroes, @bl606dy, @auggie2000, @baju69, @crazyhearttragedy, @aoi-targaryen, @budugu

all tags list: @wordsarelife

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slu7formen · 7 months

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hey bby! I wanted to request cedric x slytherin!reader. she is known as an ice princess, very elegant and intelligent but has no friends. she falls for THE cedric but has no hopes to even be with him. how would their story end? it would bring me so much closure 💕 thank you so much in advance

hi sweetie! thanks for requesting 🥹 and i love this story! hope you enjoy 🫶🏻 also, sorry for the wait.

melting heart | cedric diggory x f.r

cedric diggory x fem!reader

you were known for being an ice princess. being a slytherin, coming from a rich family, one of the smartest in your class; the whole package. but then you accidentally drank verisaterum, and the person you bumped with… had to be Cedric Diggory, the boy you liked for years.

warnings: language, the twins doing something illegal, emotional reader, little use of yn

reminder: english’s not my first language, so I apologize do any spelling mistakes.

slu7formen’s masterlist | cedric diggory’s masterlist

“Morning, (yln)”

“Malfoy”

Of course, he didn’t say anything as you walked out of the Slytherin common room on your way to have breakfast. but you felt his blue eyed intense stare in your back. Unfortunately, you lived in a world where even Draco Malfoy thought that hanging out with you was… not good, but since his parents knew yours, saying hi to you was the least thing he had to do, mainly because it was his parents request.

You decided to go alone this morning. Well, you were always alone, but when you do have company, it’s your cat; Hara. She looked very pleased with her sleeping position, so bothering her was not an option.

You could say she was your only friend, the only one you had ever since your first year at Hogwarts and now, on your sixth year, everything was the same. Did you hate it? Not at all. You got used to being alone, even though you hated it at first.

Your family has a reputation, therefore, you do too. People say you’re an ice princess, they say that if looks could kill, many students would be dead by now and you’d easily be responsible for it. Despite your very low desire of having friends or even sharing your life with wizards and witches, they said many other things about you too that could have easily be something that describes the sweetest girl in the world.

The way you walk, as smooth as if you could float, small but decided and confident steps. Always smelling fresh, like just showered; whoever sat next to you could sense it so strong that some even said that your perfume is made with amortentia.

Besides, you were also your house Prefect.

Truth was, you were an easy center of attention, even when you didn’t want it. A Slytherin girl who’s family is rumored to be richer than the Malfoy’s, her best friend is her black cat, always wearing the most expensive jewelry, spending as much time in the library as possible to study and also someone who’s extremely intelligent that shows its passion for Defense Against the Dark Arts, being at the top of her class? How could you not be someone that people talked about?

You were a whole mystery. But they were too afraid to even try to discover you.

You didn’t know who even started to say that you were not someone good to be with, so you couldn’t understand anything at your first year and cried yourself to sleep every night because no one wanted to be around you. With time, it got better, maybe it’s better to be alone than being sorrunded by bad people, you thought, and it always made you feel better when your stone cold heart was about to melt when you felt too vulnerable.

But no one, definitely no one… makes you feel as vulnerable as Cedric Diggory.

Of course you knew who he was, who didn’t? He was a revolutionary insanely attractive guy that caught every girl’s attention even in his first year. For your first year in Valentine’s day, he received at least twelve letters and a massive box of chocolates gifted by an anonymous girl at your grade, and he didn’t hesitate on sharing it with his friends. On second grade, he gained even more popularity after becoming a part of the Hufflepuff Quidditch team, and by fifth grade already, many girls were desperate to ask him on a date and fantasize about what being their girlfriend was like.

You couldn’t deny that you were one of those girls… not the girlfriend part, but the one that could easily fall for him if your heart gave the chance.

You liked him in first grade, secretly, but as the months went by, the colder you became, the more you avoided him, and the more you forgot about his existence, just being another person you know that would not be relevant in your life.

At least, not until he bumped into you just when the year started, three months ago.

You were walking with your hands full of books, almost covering your view as you tried to find your way to your dorm again. Hara was next to you, as always, and you secretly wished she was a human the whole time so she could transform back into her original shape and carry some books for you.

That didn’t happen.

What did happen, is that you gasped as your books bumped into someone’s body; for the second time. The first one ran away when she offered to help you and you yelled at her to leave you alone, because you were too angry to even let her help you.

But how could you yell at his face?

“Oh, Merlin” he had said before quickly getting on one knee, and his big hands already started to pick up three books. You just stood there… silent. “I’m so sorry, I was coming around the corner and-…”

Your tired and big sigh interrupted his words. “It’s fine.” your voice said as you got on both of your knees as you fixed a piece of tour hair behind your ear. “It’s the second time today.”

“I’m sorry” he said again, much sadder this time, and you noticed. You thought you maybe were too hard on your words, or your tone, or the way your face was clenched, but why would you care? Weren’t you always like that?

You didn’t answer though, just silently picking up your heavy and boring looking books from the floor.

Cedric had looked up at you twice while picking up the books. He recognized you from the hallways and his classes, but didn’t find the need to introduce himself; he thought you wouldn’t care a bit. Of course, he had to think just the same way as everyone else.

You secretly wished he didn’t, but you also thought that this was going to be the only time that you saw him and actually talked.

“Are you going to your dorm?”

You frowned your eyebrows at him as you lifted your head. His brown were hidden behind some hair that fell on his forehead as his lips were parted, waiting for your answer. You nodded your head, suddenly remembering that you were actually talking to him, not staring at a fucking statue. You slapped yourself internally, feeling stupid.

“Yeah” your answer was short.

“Let me help you then, it’s the least I can do”

God, could he be more perfect?

But your hard ass had to complain.

“No, it’s okay. I know my way”

You heard his laugh when you picked up the last book from the floor.

“I know you do, but I want to help you. They’re too heavy for you”

You sighed loudly again, and with an annoyed expression on your hardly visible face, you said; “Look, I don’t need help, okay? Just-…” you stopped when you looked to your left. Hara was always there, but not this time. “Where’s Hara?” the fear in your voice alerted Cedric’s ears.

“Who’s Hara?”

“My cat!” you almost yelled, letting your books fall again as you quickly got up, already disappearing into the corner in which the brunette guy came from. “Hara?”

He was quick to follow behind you. “It’s a black cat, right?”

“What?” you asked, turning your head as you found him standing next to your body, looking down at you. “No! I’m not letting you help me find my cat”

“Well, too bad” he muttered before walking past you and brushing your shoulder. You scoffed, surprised with wide eyes as you heard how he called your cat’s name and made those same little noises that everyone does when they are trying to find a cat.

He did not fall for your complaining. Why did you like it so much?

“Ugh!” you shouted towards the ceiling while letting your arms rise up and then fall heavily to your sides. “Hara!” you screamed, knowing damn well that that would not make her come to you again, but being the only thing that came out of your mouth.

You could still hear Cedric’s voice as you silently looked for Hara in the cold hallways, books long forgotten, probably getting stepped on by many students.

For what felt like ten minutes, you were already convinced that Cedric was long gone and had stopped looking for your cat. Your thought got you relaxed, but also worried, were you too harsh on him? Too rude? You didn’t want to be rude with him, or with anyone but it was just what came out of you.

Cedric didn’t run away though. No, he stayed, he insisted. He had to be one of the few if not the only person that ever did that to you, at least for the past three years…

“yn!”

And then he called your name.

A single name falling from his rosy and pumped lips, letting it fall like thick and sweet honey that tasted as magnificent as the sweetest chocolate or cherry. You liked how it sounded, coming from him.

You turned your back, and he almost smiled when he noticed what he had in his arms, and the way your eyebrows instantly came back to their original not-worried expression.

Hara seemed a little too comfortable in his arms as she looked around nervously, as if she saw something she shouldn’t, or got scared by something. He stopped in front of you and gave you your pet in your arms, slightly letting his hands brush yours, but quickly letting go. The feeling was too good to be that short.

“Where were you?” you asked staring into her yellow eyes, as if she could answer. “You scared the living hell out of me, sweetie”

“Sweetie?”

Shit, he was still there.

You just gave him a quick look before kissing Hara’s head and placing her down to the ground again, pointing her with your finger to stay there, she meowed.

“Uh… thank you” you said, probably for the first time in months, and quickly feeling your throat go dry. He smiled, proud of himself because of course, he knew you never acted like this, in fact, it was like a totally different person in front of him.

He noticed the way your cheeks went slightly pink when he caught your baby-acting way of talking to Hara, he found it cute.

Cedric didn’t believe many of the things he heard about you over the years, like, you study so much in the library because you secretly read black magic in the forbidden section, or that you were so mean on your third grade that you made three girls cry the first day, when in fact, he knew it was another person. He almost hated the way people decided to treat you one day and never notice your existence again when it came to friendship.

You were popular, but still, one of the most feared persons. Did that make sense?

“Anytime” he replied, and you held your breath when he got closer to you, still looking at you, but quickly getting on his knees again to give your cat some little pats on her head and stomach when she just laid there, asking for more of his —probably— soft and comforting touch.

Traitor. You thought, looking at Hara.

“She’s so cute” you heard him laugh when your cat gave him the purest glassy eyes ever, enjoying his presence while you stood there awkwardly, just wanting to leave. “I think she loves me”

Once again, you didn’t know what to say, so you stayed silent again, playing with the edges of your robe.

He got up again, still standing too close to you. “You’re still letting me carry those books, right?”

“Huh?”

“Come on, it’s the-…”

“Oh, I know” you interrupted, lifting your palm as your lips clenched in disgust, but way too funny to not make him smile for the last time. “It’s the least you can do” you imitated and exaggerated manly voice.

He walked with you the whole way… and you hated the fact that you let him. If your arms weren’t feeling heavy with books, the ones that Cedric made you grab because they were the lightest, you would’ve crossed your arms over your chest all the way, but since you couldn’t do it, you decided to give him a silent treatment.

He kept eyeing you the whole way, that annoying expression on your face that really made him question to himself if he should even try to talk to you again.

It was not towards him though, but to yourself; how you hated yourself for acting so different all of a sudden, so… small. But this wasn’t your fault, was it? I mean, if he didn’t show up, none of this would’ve have happened, so he was the one to blame, wasn’t he?

Right?

You questioned yourself that same thing over and over again for the following week.

It was like he invaded your mind, everytime you looked at him, you heard him talk in class, or walked past him down the hallway. It was like you were always trying to see him too, it was pathetic.

Fucking pathetic. He only helped you find your cat, for God’s sake, why was that so important to you?

Maybe because no one ever helped you before, or the way he walked so tentatively towards you anytime he walked, or how good he looked with your own cat in his arms… so cute, so handsome.

Sometimes he was there when you tried to sleep too, inside your head. What was happening to you? Why were you desperately trying to keep him out of your mind all of a sudden? Why did you feel your heart skip a beat whenever he talked? Why did you happened to be thinking about his face so much? Why wouldn’t he let you sleep?

Was this what your talked about? She mentioned something about liking boys at a certain age, but every boy you ever knew ran away from you, so, was Cedric this boy now?

You certainly didn’t know what was it about him that caught your attention so suddenly, but stopping was not an option. After all, it made you feel good.

The more days that passed, the more confused you felt, and people started to notice. They saw how you were muy quieter now in class, how you barely raised your hand or how you just seemed… lost. Was something wrong with you? Probably, because you didn’t even eat your breakfast this morning. You just sat there, playing with your scrambled eggs and toasts, not even hungry enough to eat what you served.

There was some mumbling that came from behind you, the Gryffindor table, but didn’t even bother to look back at them, as you always do, so they would either lower their volume, or shut up. Instead, you took the cup in which you had some pumpkin juice, and drank it all.

And then, the mumbling stopped.

The whole Gryffindor group went silent, and that’s when you turned around, almost asking them to speak again… they were all staring at you.

Fred and George were mouth opened and all big eyes looking directly at you, as if something really bad just happened. His friends were whispering into each other’s ears, and you finally spoke.

“What?”

Silence.

“What are you staring at?”

“Um-…” one of the twins spoke first, but you found tell which one was it. Then he lifted his finger, and pointed to the golden cup on your left hand. “Was that your juice?”

You frowned your eyebrows, looked at the cup, and then back at them. “Yes” you replied “Why so interested?”

Silence was dominant again, as the twins exchanged a scared look and then looked back at you again. Your ears were starting to get red, nobody was telling you anything so they were either messing with you, or something bad had happened. You chose to believe the first one… but saying what you were actually thinking was not part of the plan.

“Alright, stupid looking faces, what the fuck is going on?”

The expression on their faces changed, surprised about hearing what you just said… you never insulted anyone. In fact, people thought that you were the kind of person to insult in their mind, but trying to be as cold as ever on the outside, that’s why everyone called you ice hearted or ice princess, you never actually said what you thought… you just tried to be as calm and as cold as always.

But you just insulted a group of teenagers, and that never happened before. No matter how mad you were, you always tried not to insult. People did it to you and it felt horrible, so why do it to someone else?

You gasped lowly while covering your mouth. “Fohmygad” you muttered against your palm. “Oh my God, I’m-… I didn’t want to”

“We know” the other twin had said. “You just drank veritaserum”

And your whole face transformed.

“What… did you just say?” Your voice tone was scary, just like a threat.

“It was not for you!” you recognized the girl that just spoke to you, Angelina. You sat with her a few times in class, but she was quick to run away from you as soon as class finished. “I told you you shouldn’t have done that! All the cups look the same” she hit one of the twins on the side of their head. He whined.

“How was it supposed to know she was going to grab Malfoy’s cup?”

You quickly stood up and placed the cup on the table, right next to, in fact, Malfoy’s breakfast. It was not too far away from you, and you had poured yourself the same drink, but Draco left for a second before you drank the wrong juice.

Fred and George kept talking at the same time towards you, fear in their voices and getting smaller and smaller almost hiding under the table. You ignored them as much as you could so nothing else could come out of your mouth, and with half your face covered, you walked away from the Great Hall.

But of course, not before bumping into another person again.

“Woah” Cedric said as he grabbed your shoulders. He laughed when he noticed it was you “We keep bumping into each other, huh?”

“Don’t talk to me” you bit while shaking your body off of his grabbing, and bit your tongue again as the gigantic door kept getting closer and closer, but it didn’t make you feel any better.

You didn’t look back as you walked as fast as you could towards the bathroom on the fifth floor, the Prefect’s bathroom, after all, you were one. It was a safe place, since no one was ever there at that time in the morning and not everyone could come in. You just wished that Myrtle was not there, she could be a bit annoying sometimes.

After letting your way in, you ran to wash your face with the coldest water that your skin could handle. Your skin was on fire, just like the rest of your body and maybe, just maybe, your brain. You have definitely gained a new enemy.

Verisaterum? Really?

Malfoy could be a pain in the ass but, out of all the potions in the wizarding world, the Weasley twins had to choose the hardest one to make, with no taste, no color, but most importantly, illegal to any use outside the Minister?

Merlin’s fucking beard, you needed a break.

“yn?”

You scoffed when a male voice called your name. “It’s occupied, genius” you answered with your back still turned to where the voice was coming.

The footsteps were coming closer and closer, and you were not in the mood to deal with any Weasley shit, you thought.

“Pretrificus Totalus!” you screamed while turning around, your hand already grabbing your wand and throwing it towards whoever it was the Weasley that followed you.

“Hey!” the male voice, not Weasley, screamed as he hid behind a wall, your spell crushing into the cold surface. “What do you think you’re doing?” Cedric showed himself, confusion on his face as he slowly decided to walk again.

“Cedric.” you called, putting your wand away. It was the first time you called his name. “I thought you were one of the twins”

“I can tell… are you okay?”

Yes.

“No”, you replied. You groaned lowly when the truth came out of your lips. In times like this, you really wished these kind of potions didn’t exist, it was hard to hold back their enchantment. “I just drank the most stupid potion that the Weasley twins could think of to piss off Malfoy”

He placed his hands inside the front pockets of his pants as he laughed. “Verisaterum?”

“How’d you know?”

He clicked his tongue, making his way towards you again. “They joke about it too much” he leaned his back against the sink you were gripping tightly with your hands.

You took a deep breath and stayed silent for a moment, analyzing your reflection as you asked, “How long does it last?”

“Depends on how successful it is. It can go away between one hour and six”

“Six hours!?” you yelled to his face, then scoffed while letting an annoyed smile draw on your face. “For the love of….”

“We can always ask Snape for the antidote… but that would mean you tell him about the twins’s action and that was illegal”

You bit your tongue as your feet bobbed up and down, snapping your toes onto the shiny floor again and again as your breathing was a clear sign of how bad you were feeling.

“Forget it. I’ll just wait”

Your knees bended as you sat on the floor, right next to Cedric’s legs, and letting your head fall against the cold pipe under the sink.

“You’ll wait up until six hours before you speak again?” his voice could perfectly fit with another type of quiestion… ‘are you crazy?’ would be the perfect one.

But you just nodded, not even looking at his perfect face. “It’s not like I have someone to talk to, anyways”

Ouch.

Cedric bit the inside of his cheek as he looked down at you, feeling bad for you and how vulnerable were feeling, but being smart enough to keep that thought to himself.

“Or… you can talk to me”

You clicked your tongue and laughed coldly. “Yeah, right”

“Really” he insisted as you saw his figure squat next to yours, finally dropping his whole weight to the floor, imitating your posture. “By this time you should already know I’m not someone who falls for your complains, right?”

“You’re right” you replied as you played with your fingers nervously. “That’s good”

Shit, shut up already.

“Why?”

“‘Cause I like it… oh my god” you covered your face “I was not supposed to say that”

Cedric laughed again.

“You like my company?”

No, no, no, no.

“Yes” you whined “Please stop asking me questions!”

He let out a louder laugh this time. “Why? It’s fun”

“Yeah, you drink verisaterum and we’ll see if it’s funny, smart boy”

“Sorry”

He stayed silent after that, and so did you. Your cheeks were flushed with embarrassment as you kept wishing that this potion was so poorly made that it only lasted one hour, but the effect didn’t seem to go away any sooner.

You could feel it because that’s just how your mind felt too. Suddenly the thought of not saying the truth to any question was not an option in your mind. Did you even know what a lie was? God, you felt so weak that you hated yourself. Why couldn’t you be like those wizards you read about? The ones that can resist it?

Your whole reputation and personality would’ve stayed intact if you could.

But right now, sitting right next to Cedric Diggory, asking you questions, and with red cheeks… that just ruined the whole image that people thought you had.

“Do you mind if I ask you something?” he suddenly stammered and it made you jump slightly. He had leaned closer to your ear, as if sitting next to him was not enough to hear him.

“I do” you answered before laughing to yourself “That was the only answer that did not feel forced to come out”

Cedric laughed too, and he took his time before deciding what to ask you, trying to find the correct words to say to not make you mad, or walk away and leave.

“Is it… are you really how people say you are? I mean, I see that you can be as cold as you want but, is that who you are?”

Your eyes made him nervous. After his lips closed, your face just inches away from his, you just stayed there staring at him. You bit your own lip as you kept looking at his grey eyes, trying to find any sign that showed you that he really didn’t care about it, or that the wrinkles on his skin would show up like anytime he laugh, another sign that he was just messing with you, and he really couldn’t care in the slightest about you. But he didn’t move.

So you sighed. “No”

Cedric nodded, more than satisfied with that answer. He was right.

But you had a lot to say, even though he didn’t ask you that much.

“I guess I became what people started to say I was, or what I started to hear about myself. I wasn’t always cold, or I wasn’t always pushing people away from me. Actually, I was the one trying to have lots of friends and be myself with many people but they just… I don’t know, they felt threatened, so… let’s just say I got mad with my own life and decided to not let myself feel vulnerable again, because I don’t deserve it”

Another big gap of silence… and your eyes slowly got filled with tears.

“I’m not who everyone says I am. Ice princess, the hell” you laughed “I mean, sorry I’m not a sweetheart to everyone that gave me nicknames! They expected me to be like this so, here they go”

You sniffed while your nose got red and puffy. Not a single tear was dropped but you still looked so heartbroken that it made the boy next to you almost cry too. You didn’t even complain about the potion this time, because you finally had thrown again that massive rock that just kept hurting your chest over and over again.

“There was only one person that treated me nicely in the last three years”

He frowned his eyebrows. “Who?”

“You”

You had turned your head towards him again, with a small smile on your lips. He knew it was going to be hard for you to thank him, but the shiny look in your eyes was just enough for him to realize. “Really?” he asked.

You nodded, still smiling. “Yes, it’s like a bonus point”

“Bonus point?”

“Because I like you”

Fuck… fuck!

“I-…”

“Wha-…” you both started taking at the same time.

It was like a fucking movie. Both of you frozen in time, staring at each other’s faces as you tried to say the correct words, but nothing came to mind.

Cedric could feel his heart pounding in his ears, while you wanted to crash your head to the nearest wall.

“You…” he started, but didn’t finish, at least not what he initially wanted to say. “Are you for real?”

“No, Diggory, I just fucking lied to your face, can you believe it?… Of course I’m for real, dingus!” you yelled.

Cedric bit his lip as he turned his head to the opposite side, trying to bite back his laugh. “Okay, I get it, it was a dumb question”

But then he laughed. God, his laugh, his perfect little giggle. It made you smile.

“I kinda like you too”

Your neck snapped so hard towards his direction that you thought that maybe, you just died.

Your lips kept opening and closing everytime you tried to say something. For some reason, none of this seemed like a joke to you, almost as if the potion’s effect had affected Cedric too. Something about this felt real, maybe it was because you openly talked about your feeling with him. He knew you weren’t bad, he always knew, he just wanted you to confirm it.

Maybe drinking verisaterum wasn’t as bad as you thought.

Your heart pounded heavily in your chest when he fixed a piece of your hair behind your ear, and the lightest yet burning touch of his fingers against your jawline made your breath hitch once again. He smirked again, as he always does, “You’re really beautiful” he cooed, as his hot breath hit your cheekbone and left behind a sweet feeling that you never wanted to get rid of.

He then got up, as swiftly as a leaf would do, and extended his hand to you.

“What?” you debated.

“Let’s go for a walk. I feel like I have to ask you a few more questions before I decided which place I’m taking you to this weekend”

#cedric diggory #cedric diggory x fem!reader #cedric diggory x female reader #cedric diggory x reader #cedric diggory x y/n #cedric diggory x you #cedric x y/n #cedric #cedric x you #cedric x fem!reader #cedric deserved better #cedric diggory blurb #cedric diggory imagine #cedric x reader #harry potter and the goblet of fire #harry potter

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harrystylesfan2686 · 2 months

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Love You, Always.

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: the years you've loved each other, and the ones you've loved him alone.

Warnings: Devlon. Mentions of domestic abuse.

A/N: inspired by Cardigan by Taylor Swift, except in this version he doesn't come back.

Masterlist

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You place the two cups of tea in front of your father and his guest. A female so beautiful, with high cheek bones and a black lips to match her gown. She doesn't have wings and her cloths look far more elegant and richer from the clothes females in illyria were. She's surely from other place.

Your father, Lord Devlon, had instructed you to be on your best behavior today. You knew the rules of what do to when any guest comes, father had taught you even since you could remember living. Just stand back with your head down and be alert for when he requires anything from you.

And you do exactly that. Knowing that not doing would have painful punishments.

The female laughs at whatever your father had said before you came, and your father puts a hand on hers with a disgusting smirk. The lady glaces at your bowed head with an unsure expression you see in your peripheral, to which he responds,"Do not worry about her, she won't understand anything." His fingers swipping at her hand and you almost gag.

"Won't understand, my ass." You want to say but keep quiet and try to block out the teasing smirks they share. You're almost twenty one, of course you understand those revolting looks your shameless father gives females.

-☆-

You get out of the house as soon as your father gives you permission too. Gods, you hate that male, but have to endure his presence if you want to live at a little better life then the other females in your camp.

You ran and go to one place you know will bring you joy. The trianing grounds arent allowed for females to go to, so you stay far enough that no body would notice you seeing them. You look for the only person that makes you happy and doesn't treat you like worthless dolls. You see Azriel, fighting with his brothers, and let go of the breath you didn't know you were holding.

He looks so good.

The evening light making his bare chest glow. His wings flared in the show of dominance as he spars with Cassian. Rhysand watching them from the ground as Azriel expertly defeats Cassian and walks back to Rhysand with a small smile.

Your mind flashes with mammories of the last time you two were together. When father had given you particular blow that left you a line on blood down your cheek for not doing a chore. Azriel had so delicately wiped off the dried blood and took care of you, creeping into your room at night when everyone else lay alseep except you two. He kissed you all the way down your face and neck, showing you the care and love you deserve. Whispering promises of revenge for every scar on your body while loving you with everything he has.

Giggles sound behind you, breaking you moment of daydreaming. And you turn around, startled but settle down your panic when you see a group of three females talking and giggling while staring at the males training.

Thank the Mother, they aren't the very males your all staring at or father would be made. As you think about your better luck, fate seems to say 'fuck you' because just as your getting up, one of the females sees and you both freeze. The female, Nyra you remember, turns and calls the others attention, and your groan at yourself mentally.

Those females are definitely going to tell your father about your whereabouts, exposing there's too in the process which will get all of you in trouble. You were friends when you little but after growing up, when they realized who your father is and just how much power he holds in this camp, they became distent. You've had a lot of friends but never a true one.

You nod at them awkwardly and glance at Azriel once more before turning and leaving.

-☆-

You toss and turn on your so called bed in your room. Your thoughts repeatedly drift off to Nyra and her friends catching you red handed, drooling over training males. You kept glancing at your door, hoping for her or one of her friends to walk through and declare your secret.

What you hadn't excepted, however, was the flaping sound of wings filling the midnight silence. You sit up at the same time azriel lands never your window, having squeezed in his wings due to the size of your small room.

You stand and hug him, he returns the embrace in an instant, breathing in your sweet scent that drives him insane. When he tries to pull back, your hands tighten around him, shaking your head in a silent plea to hold on longer and he complies.

"Are you alright, my love?" His voice so soft and comforting as he whispers. You shake your head and remain as you are. Speaking softly, the words you say to each other, promising yourselves to the other, forever.

"I love you, Az."

"And I love you. Always."

-☆-

Even after five hundred years, you still can't seem to move on. Your thoughts always drifting back to the only person you saw your future with.

After Rhysand became high lord, the years when the trio weren't there were dreadful. Your father only seemed to have became worse. When Rhys got the news of you being promised to an illyrian from the camp, he came to get you. Knowing the history between Azriel and you, he took you to Valeris and introduced you to the inner circle. You finally met the love of your life after being separated for over a decade.

However, it did not go as you thought it would.

Azriel seemed to distanced himself from you, at first you thought maybe it was the fact that you were meeting after so long but as time went, you realized it wasn't his nerves that were the problem but his heart. You started to realize where his feelings seemed to be directed. You realized just how little he felt for you now and how much more for Mor.

You have to admit though, you love Mor. She is beautiful, confident and just amazing. What hurts, is knowing that now he does too.

You always thought the two of you were in it for life, that he was the person you're supposed to spend your life with but you were wrong. You were just kids after all. You were new to the world, exploring and trying new things. You were never supposed to be together, passion having blurred the boundaries and consequences of your actions.

Now, even after five hundred years. Azriel moved on, with different females to bed and Mor or Elain to give his heart too. But you? You're still twenty one, still living in that camp, under your fearful father's roof, still completly and utterly in love with the shadowsinger.

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#acotar #acotar fandom #acotar fanfiction #acotar fluff #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel angst #Spotify

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synthetickitsune · 3 months

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Red Haze ✧ j.ww

Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x f!reader Genre: smut Summary: The taste lingering on your tongue is smooth like his hands caressing your skin and the warmth in your chest could be love or wine, who really knows. It's unimportant either way with the way he's looking at you. Word count: 2.6k Warnings: smut, mentions of alcohol consumption A/N: This is my part for @svthub's cupid fic exchange aka cupid's gift for @wonusite! Surprise! I hope you enjoy it and have a nice day ♡

The sunset bleeds deep red honey color over the pink sky. The clouds lazily lounging in the air look like stray rose petals Cupid mischievously left for the angels to be flustered by. It’s a beautiful and warm evening. Your feet hurt from all the walking you did today, but the view is worth it. You sway a little, acting clumsy and more tipsy than you are, because the only thing that would make this moment more perfect is Wonwoo’s hands on your waist. And you always get what you want.

He catches you quickly and pulls you to his side, giving you an unimpressed look. He knows your limits better than you do, and he knows that the wine tasting you devoted the day to isn’t enough to get you drunk. His playful annoyance quickly disappears from his face, however, when you lean up and kiss his jaw.

You’re both tired and the wine makes you feel a pleasant buzz that makes the short walk back to the house you’re staying at feel surreal and peaceful. You end up leaning your head on Wonwoo’s shoulder for the rest of the way. His arm remains curled around your waist. You feel protected and satisfied, life feels just like you’re living in a fairytale.

The feeling lasts even after you make it past the front door and into the kitchen, sharing a glass of water that feels disappointing to say the least after the rich tastes you enjoyed throughout the day. Looking around, the walls are tinted pastel red too. The world is blushing on the lovers’ day.

All the colors of the world are not important, though, safe for the black of Wonwoo’s eyes. It seems deeper, richer, a warm darkness that feels like the hug of the night after you’re safely wrapped in your sheets after a long day. It’s made warmer by the look in his eyes, speaking of pure devotion and adoration. It makes you shy, even after all this time, so you decide to speak up to chase away the embarrassment.

“You never formally asked me to be your valentine, you know?” you hum, a teasing lilt to your voice. It’s pointless - why should he? Isn’t this little retreat enough? Isn’t the way he looks at you enough? He laughs, pulling you closer until your head rests on his chest and his arms can wrap around your body.

“Is that necessary?” He asks and sighs in amusement when you fervently nod your head. He rests his head against yours while he thinks for a while. “Do I need to ask every year?”

You nod your head again. “Do it or I will.”

“Hmm, won’t you trust me instead?” his hand leaves your waist to cup your cheek as he makes you look into his warm, dark eyes, “I will never want another Valentine. I will court you again and again every February.”

You bite your lip, trying to stop it from trembling as warmth spreads through your body, from your heart all the way to your fingertips. You cover Wonwoo’s hand with yours and turn your head to kiss his palm.

“It’s just me and you until the end of time,” he smiles and strokes your cheek with his thumb. It doesn’t take much to convince you to kiss his lips instead.

He tastes like wine, just the same as you. You recognize the aftertaste as the one of the last wine you tasted earlier. The one that charmed you and made you crave more. As if Wonwoo's lips weren't addictive enough already.

"What was it called?" you ask once you part, not pulling away much. Half-tempted to dive in for more.

"I'm not telling," Wonwoo smirks, instead fulfilling your unspoken wish and kissing you again. His tongue meets no resistance, only a warm welcome. His hand cradles your face and you allow him full control of the kiss. Your hands twist in the collar of his shirt between your fingers. It's good his arm is around your waist, holding you up or you'd be a puddle on the floor.

"Why?" you demand before you give up any semblance of control and kiss him deeper. The wine makes you do it. The red light and the taste. The feeling of Wonwoo enveloping all your senses. It makes your head spin and your knees shake.

“Breathe,” he tells you, and you do. His lips meet the corner of your lips and you finally fill your lungs with oxygen.

"Why didn't you remember the name?" he teases, amused and tempted by the pout on your lips.

"Because I knew you would," you mumble.

"And I did," he laughs, "So I get to do what I want with that information."

“But why?” you whine a little, sliding your hands up his chest and to his neck, playing with the hair on his nape. He’s not caving.

“It was your favorite, wasn't it? ‘Best I ever had’ did you say?” he waits for you to confirm, “So that's why. Only I can get it for you now.”

He kisses the tip of your nose while you're still trying to process that he'd actually gatekeep your new favorite wine from you. He laughs more at your perplexed expression. “It’s expensive anyway, I should be the only one to spoil you like that, right?”

“Will I have to wait for another Valentine’s day then?” you challenge.

“Spoiling you is a year-round thing,” he tuts. You half-expected an answer like that, but it still makes more heat rise to your cheeks.

“And when will it be my turn to spoil you?” you blink up at him. He pretends to think for a moment. The corners of his lips, twitching up, betray him though.

“Every morning that I wake up with you next to me.”

“That's so cheesy, so so cheesy,” you sigh, hiding your face in his chest.

“And still if I let you go now I'd see how weak in the knees it made you.”

“You're-’

“Terrible? Horrible? Mean?”

“Love of my life,” you correct him with a pointed gaze as if he didn't finish your sentence correctly.

“Look who's cheesy now,” he sighs before he guides your head back to his chest, quick enough that you can't tell if that's red dusting his cheeks or just a trick of the light.

“And my knees are still not working properly - it’s the wine, don’t get any ideas,” you warn him playfully as his chest shakes with chuckles, “So how about you help me to the bathroom and have a shower with me?”

“Lovely idea,” he hums, “If you let me undress you.”

With just one exchanged glance through the steam rising in the shower you both knew it’s not going to end with simply washing each other’s bodies.

It’s a blur - how you managed to get through the shower routine filled with giggles and less than innocent touches, how - or why - you got dressed in your night clothes when you soon laid undressed again under him on the silky sheets. You beg to be touched, beg for him to stop exploring your body as if he needed to commit it to his memory.

Wonwoo’s fingers finally dip between your folds. You take in a shaky breath as his warm fingertips circle your clit before slowly slipping lower. He just wants to tease, you know, but this time you bite your lip to stop from moaning and smirking at his surprise that you recognize in the brief pause in his movements.

“So wet from just a little sweet talk and showering?” he recovers and hums against your skin. His lips leave a trace of kisses down your neck, tender and innocent, yet your skin feels too sensitive. His fingers work their magic, teasing your clit with feather light touches that make you squirm. You don’t know if it’s the wine or the light pouring over his features just right or if it’s simply him and your love for him, but the softest of touch feels like it’s setting your body on fire. He adds a little pressure and the pleasure is so intense that it makes you reach for his wrist.

“Please,” you whisper, “Need you. Need you a lot.”

“I’ll make you feel good, darling,” he promises against your throat, his teeth scraping your skin. You shiver as goosebumps erupt over your skin. Your fingers circling his wrist don’t hold him back at all as he slowly inserts one inside your warm fluttering walls. His free hand that held your thighs apart caresses your body until it reaches your chest, cupping your breast. Your hardened nipple brushes against his palm as you arch your back into his touch. His lips move across your jaw to your lips, relishing in the vibrations of your pleased mewl.

“Need more,” you beg breathlessly, “Need you, Wonwoo.”

“You can’t take it, baby,” he shushes you with more sweet kisses. It’s hard to think, to do more than kiss him back. You feel like you’re floating, completely lost in the feeling of your lover’s lips and hands. His fingers curling inside you, taking your breath away, his thumb nudging your clit and making your toes curl, and the tender attention he pays to your breasts that turns your mind into a foggy mess. His tongue long since won the battle. It’s only natural to submit to him. It’s as natural as breathing to chase after his lips when he pulls away with a smile. “You’re so gone already, you wouldn’t handle my cock.”

You want to argue that you would in fact handle whatever he gives you, but it’s not possible. Not when your body feels like it’s melting and you only half hum, half moan in response. You barely have the strength to keep your eyes open and watch him. Watch the fond smile on his face and the spark in his eyes. “Feels good?”

You nod. Then you remember your hand still loosely wrapped around his wrist and you manage to stroke across his veins a few times, making him chuckle without ever slowing down the speed of his fingers pumping inside you. They drag against your walls at just the right pace. He knows your body so well, knows how to make you scream and cry in pleasure, but he knows more than that. All your worries disappear along with any tension, anxiety or fears. It’s just Wonwoo. Wonwoo and his love, your love.

You let your eyes meet with some difficulty and his eyes are melted chocolate, dripping with sweetness. He gets shy, his composure slipping for a second before he relaxes. It’s just the two of you. He doesn’t hide how smitten he is with you, though you have a feeling it would be impossible anyway. His lips are parted, tongue darting to wet them as he watches your face scrunch up in pleasure. He feels you clenching around his fingers, feels your body pushing and pulling, fighting against and leaning into the sensation he provides. You’re so beautiful and so vulnerable. He could do anything with you, he knows you would let him. He could even take the approaching climax away from you and deny you the release. And while other nights he might take advantage of that for his entertainment, he won’t. Not today. Not when all he can think of is that his heart will burst if he doesn’t kiss you.

So he does.

You whimper weakly. He feels your fingers tighten around his wrist, feels your chest rise and fall so fast. He focuses more of his attention on your clit, his fingers almost stilling and rubbing that spongy spot inside you. You’re struggling to catch your breath and he feels a little bit of guilt for that, but he’d feel worse if he denied you the kiss you so desperately return and keep coming for more.

Your words all blur together into desperate whines and moans, but he understands all the same. It’s a shame he has to give up playing with your nipples to hold your thighs apart, but you’re trembling too much and making it harder for him to please you while you hang on the edge of your climax.

He soothes your spasming muscles with gentle caress. Finally he allows you to breathe, pulling away only enough to watch you come undone. Your nails scratch his wrist, but what’s a little pain if he has the privilege to make you feel so good you can only think of the pleasure? He’s relentless even as your body tries to twist away from him. Your walls are sucking him in, your hips meeting all his movements. You were made for him weren’t you?

He leans down to kiss your forehead, grounding you when the waves of pleasure wash over you and you almost forget how to breathe. He guides you through your high and safely back into his arms. Your nails digging into his skin become a warm invitation pulling him to lay on top of you. He grants your silent request easily. Still he’s careful not to put too much weight on you and pulls out his fingers slowly. It’s a bit awkward trying to maneuver himself without hurting you and reach for the tissues without making a mess on your skin or the pillows and the sofa.

The fog clouding your mind slowly settles and you realize his predicament, chuckling as he shuffles on top of you until he finally does what he has to and wraps both his arms around you.

“I love you,” you whisper, stifling a yawn to pepper some kisses on Wonwoo’s face, “I really enjoyed that.”

“I love you too,” he smiles, much more hesitant to meet your eyes now and so he kisses you again instead. “How are you feeling?”

“Good. Tired,” you sigh, but even so your hands creep under his shirt. His skin is so smooth and tempting. It's hard to move, you just want to soak up his warmth. At the same time, there are more exciting things you want to do. He hums, before gently moving away and letting your hands slip out. He walks to the adjacent bathroom and comes back with a wet washcloth. You frown at him a little.

“You’re tired,” he gives you a look, sitting down next to you and coaxing you to let him clean you up with gentle caresses.

“Wanna make you feel good too,” you mumble, whining as the wet cloth makes contact with your heated core.

“Already did, baby,” he smiles at you, “I love watching you enjoying yourself and you know that.”

“But…” you hesitate. He’s right, you’re sleepy and too sensitive. At the same time, you only want to please him. He shakes his head with a smile and kisses your forehead before making a quick work of putting the washcloth away. He lies down with you, pulling you closer to his body. It’s so warm you think you’ll need to get rid of the blanket in a bit, if only it didn’t feel like it keeps you safe and separated from the world.

“No buts. Remember when I said all the spoiling I need is waking up with you next to me?” he asks and you nod, too eager to hear him out to cringe, “I would like waking up with you on top of me as well.”

You laugh, weakly smacking his chest. He laughs too, quickly reassuring you he wasn’t being serious - but he wasn’t lying either.

“I like you under me too,” you purr as you nuzzle into his chest.

“You already have me under your thumb,” Wonwoo confesses quietly, so quietly you don’t hear it before slowly succumbing to sleep.

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen x reader #wonwoo x reader #svthub.collab #svthub #wonwoo smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #svt x reader #seventeen reactions #wonwoo scenarios

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galedekarios · 5 months

Note

Hey there! You're one of the best Gale-ish devnotes\datamines sources that I know of, so I might as well ask. I remember that at some point Gale mentions taking part in Blackstaff Academy balls (or something like that). Is it mentioned elswhere, and do we have any details on his involvement in such activities? Need that for science\personal lore, and I'd appreciate any info (including EA), if you have time. Thanks!

thank you for your message and i'm sorry for the belated response!

i took my time to comb through everything and sadly, the banter with wyll is the only instance i could find of gale mentioning a ball at blackstaff academy:

gale & the annual blackstaff's ball

gale: i knew you were a graceful man, wyll, but i hear you're quite the dancer too. gale: i've been known to trip the light fantastic myself. mine was a popular hand at the annual blackstaff's ball. wyll: i'd have love to have witnessed it, gale. i wager you are as elegant on the dance floor as you are on the battlefield.

the only other banters i could find that are only loosely related. some give us glimpses into his life at the academy, others into his life in waterdeep.

here's another story about gale & being a young student at blackstaff academy, which triggers in the wizard tower in the underdark:

gale & the death slaad

gale: ah. quite. a misadventure from my days as an apprentice at blackstaff academy. gale: i was but a child, only a few months into my studies, but already i knew i was destined for greatness. no one believed me, of course, so i decided to prove it. to cast a spell with the blackstaff itself. gale: from one perspective, i succeeded. i opened a portal. however, instead of pointing it at the first year dormitory, i found myself pulled into limbo, facing a very irritated death slaad. gale: fortunately, the blackstaff himself came to the rescue, hauling me back from the brink, and straight into several months of writing lines. or rather, finessing my autograph. gale: now, much as i enjoy reminiscing about such tomfoolery, i believe we've more pressing matters at hand. is there anything else?

this dialogue path from the epilogue has him speaking a bit more about those days as well:

gale & his days as a wayward apprentice

gale: teaching at blackstaff academy has proven such an unexpected pleasure. sometimes i find it hard to tear myself away. gale: just one of the myriad unexpected ways life has delighted me in recent months. gale: even my own city feels new to me, now that i share it with you. player: probably because i make you put down your quill once in a while and enjoy it. gale: that you do. i've not had so much fun in waterdeep since my own days as a wayward blackstaff apprentice. gale: you've certainly made quite the impression on my friends down at the yawning portal. the last i heard, they were thinking of naming a drink after you.

while he seems to have enjoyed a much richer social life in waterdeep before his time of isolation, it's mentioned in another epilogue banter (devnotes) that he didn't seek out any of the more dangerous parts of the city.

there are also other banters about gale's life in waterdeep before the game:

gale & the temple of beauty in waterdeep

gale: i must tell you, shadowheart, the bathing waters here leave much to be desired. gale: the ablutions offered at the temple of beauty in waterdeep are far superior. and they have the most excellent soaps. shadowheart: hmm. i was wondering why you always smelled like a wealthy dowager.

gale & spending time in the hospice of st. laupsenn

wyll: this was a hospital? feels more like a prison. gale: a common enough interpretation. sickness has a nasty habit of making you feel trapped, if only within the confines of your body. gale: i once spent weeks convalescing in the hospice of st. laupsenn after a nasty bout of ruddy pox. for all their kindness, leaving that place behind felt like freedom to me. wyll: i’ve always relied on the kindness of the healers and menders of the coast. better a cleric’s healing touch than a chirurgeon’s scalpel.

gale & florist

lae'zel: these flowers are quite vivid - not to mention, pungent. not to my liking. gale: are there no flowers in tu'narath? lae'zel: in the city of death, the mlar cultivate the fruiting bodies that sprout from the corpses of the slain. gale: i'd rather get them from my florist in waterdeep, if it's all the same to you.

i'm also including this banter between wyll and gale here because it speaks (even if somewhat joking) about his upbringing as a whole by morena:

wyll: i admire your courage, gale. gale: thank you. any particular reason? wyll: between the orb and the bug, you've got more than your fair share of unwelcome passengers. gale: what can i say? mother always taught me to be a gracious host.

we also know that he has had multiple tutors:

lae'zel: you strike me cleverer than most istiki, gale. multiple tutors, i should guess. gale: many a wise man and woman indeed. waterdeep is the home of myriad scholars. wyll: ah, the city of splendours. spent a whole fleetswake there with my father. what a delight.

hiring tutors appears to be relatively common in waterdeep:

so while this sadly wasn't what you were looking for, i hope this is helpful to some degree! 🖤

#gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #ch: gale dekarios #vg: baldur's gate 3 #series: baldur's gate #meta: mybg3 #text: asks

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gojo-mochi · 7 months

Note

hey hey! could I request for the kinktober event vampire!mihawk or demon!crocodile? also, can you put some smut and some extra spices? Like maybe mihawk getting completly adicted on readers blood? tx dear, hope ya have a good day!!

CW: Fem!reader with dress. Blood drinking (ofc), Mention of weed usage, cockwarming, fingering, p/v cowgirl position, Mihawk calls you a bitch once, overstimulation. Vampire powers. Hints of Yandere!Mihawk.

A/N: Thank you so much for the request! Hope you enjoy it! From my kinktober event!

Word Count: 3.7k

You decided that you had enough of the sweaty dancing bodies on the first floor of the mansion. Bumping and pushing your way into the crowd, almost elbowing a guy in the stomach for not getting the hint that you did not want him to grind on you. Sweat dripped down your cheek as you eventually made it to the stairwell. Exploring the second floor only to find that most of the room was already occupied from the noises you were hearing. Sounds like most of them were having a good time as well. Sighing, you took your weary leg up another flight of stairs, up to the third floor of the mansion.

Finding this floor to be relatively empty, only a couple of stoners laze around the hallway or some of the open rooms you peeked in. The heavy smoke wafting through the air was enough for you to be feeling woozy, stumbling your way further down the floor and finding an empty hallway leading to a grand set of double doors. You push on it and shuffle your way in, taking in a deep breath of clean air. Enjoying how you could breathe easily without coughing your lungs out now. You rub your eyes as you take a clear look at the room you were in, lines of shelves filled with various books enter your vision.

Of course, the weird old creepy mansion has a grand library in it. It was eerily quiet in the library, you half-expected some old decrepit librarian lady to come and shush you as you shut the door behind you, the hinges creaking loudly. A sign that no one has used this place in a long while, if the small coating of dust bunnies on the bookshelves weren’t evidence enough. Still, it was better than the other hallway, a little bit of dust never hurt anyone anyway. You decided to stay here for a while, eyeing the titles of books as you walk further into the library.

“Science, History, Math too? Was the owner a teacher or something?” You ponder your thoughts out loud as you read some of the titles that caught your eye. “The Adventure of the long-nosed Liar, 101 ways to scam someone, How to Cook Oden, Finding the One Piece in your life….” None of these really interested you, your eyes were so focused on scanning the Shelves that you didn’t realize that there was someone else in the library with you. Someone who has been watching you the entire time, from the moment you stepped into the library, his piercing golden eyes were trained on you.

Mihawk would usually just use his power to convince anyone who finds the library to leave immediately, he wasn't about to let anyone ruin his safe haven. Annoyed that he got tricked by a certain red-haired- drunk into even coming to this party. However, when you came in, he was taken aback by your mouth-watering scent. So he stayed back, carefully watching your every move like a hawk. You were dressed as a murder victim or that’s what he believed at least, a white collared dress splatter in fake blood. He knew it was fake from the awful chemical smell that was coming from it. It was a simple costume for someone who also didn’t really want to attend this party either.

Mihawk licks his lips as he thought about painting your dress with real blood instead, covering that awful synthetic smell with your sweet honeyed aroma instead. The fake blood was too lightly colored anyway, real blood would be a nice richer color, like the color of his favorite bottle of wine. These thoughts swirl in his head as he continues to observe your actions, scrunching up his nose as you come across some vampire themed novels. How ironic he thought silently, seeing you picked a book called “Marked by the Vampire '', raising an eyebrow in curiosity when your heartbeat quickens a bit when you skimmed through the book.

The book you just picked up just so happened to be a raunchy and steamy romance novel, one of those that the ladies in book clubs will absolutely fawn and gossip over for days. You landed on a page right in the middle of a sex scene. The poor innocent village girl who was taken captive by the dark and broody vampire was now being pinned underneath him, your eyes glued to the pages as you read on; “His fangs grazed her neck, not yet puncturing in, just a light tease. His hands groped down on her body, feeling her terrified nerves with every single moment he made. She gasps out as one of his hands roam under her dress, pulling it up and-”

“You seem quite captivated by this book, it must be an interesting read.” A rich and mysterious voice spoke out from behind you. You drop the book instantly, turning back to come face to face with a tall dark-haired stranger. He was dressed like some sort of slutty vampire? If you had to take a guess, that is, considering that he was wearing a high-collared dark cape, a brimmed feather hat, and those fancy high-waisted pants. But no shirt, so you were free to ogle at his extremely toned abs and his also very muscular arms when he bends down to pick up the fallen book.

Muscles and ogling aside, how long has he been here for anyway? Were you just too absorbed into reading to notice someone come in? The door’s hinges should have alerted you with how loud they creaked earlier. Or was he in here the whole time and you just never noticed? It gave you a dreadful feeling in the pits of your stomach. You were alone, far away from the rest of the party, with a stranger who looked like he could pick you up by the throat with one hand. You nervously start to shift away a bit from him, only for him to stop you with one glance down of his golden eyes.

His calloused hands held the book open, right on the page where you left it. “Planning on leaving so soon? It looked like you were enjoying this book, apologize if I startled you.” His eyes switched back to the book and its pages, you could see the small movement of his pupils as he browsed over the text. “Very interesting read, I can see why you were so engrossed in it.” His facial expression was neutral but his tone gave away his thoughts on it, it had a teasing lilt to it and something else you couldn’t put your finger on.

You chuckled out shakily, shrugging your shoulders back in reply. “I just didn’t notice you came in here that’s all. Or were you here before me? Anyway, I was just bored and the book looked like it was fun but that doesnt mean I was that into it!” A delicate blush rushes up to your face as you try to defend yourself, being caught reading something smutty and enjoying it by a handsome guy. Mihawk’s eyes narrowed upon seeing your blush, he could practically hear the rush of blood in your veins at this point. He chuckles out himself, “No need to be ashamed now, my dear. Everyone has needs, don’t they? I know I certainly do. Ah, How about this then? Since we both don’t seem to be fond of the party, why don't we find something fun to do here.”

You noticed that he didn’t answer your questions but your mind was getting fuzzier by the minute, was the weed hitting out this late or something. Mihawk took a couple of steps towards you, his free cupping your cheek gently, running a thumb over your skin. “We can even recreate some of the scenes in this book, if you so like, my dear.” His eyes seemed to bore right into your soul, your body froze up, but your skin felt like it was gonna melt from how fast it was heating up. Mihawk throws the book behind him, leaning his head down to your neck.

His hand on your cheek, forcibly tilting your head back so he could have more access to your pretty little neck. He wasn’t planning on drinking anyone's blood at this party, thinking that no one’s who would go to a party like this would have blood worth drinking. But you prove him wrong, still he wasn’t one to keep a victim or drain them completely. He finds it bothersome to have someone around all the time and getting rid of a body was equally bothersome as well. He would just do his standard routine of mind control and taking some blood and leave you somewhere else on the floor.

Erasing your memories of him and having you believe that you just got blacked out drunk. Clean, simple and cut, no need for anything fancy or extra work. Simple… that what he thought this was going to be, until he finally got a taste of your blood. His fangs sink in so easily, like slicing into a cake, the first savor of your sweet crimson nectar on his tongue had Mihawk moaning shamelessly. Sinking his fangs in even deeper than he usually does. His tongue flicked rapidly to lap up every single drop.

Mihawk then lets go of you with another debauched groan coming from his throat. Your blood dripped down the side of his face and chin. The spell on your mind gradually loses its powers, your eyes blink reality back into existence slowly. Mihawk was wiping away your blood with a handkerchief when your mind snapped back together, you stumbled backwards and fell ungracefully on your ass. Scrambling away from your attacker, holding the two bleeding holes in your neck with a shaky hand.

Mihawk was in shock, he never lost control like this before, but you… you were different from all the others he ever drank from. Comparing their blood to yours would be like comparing pig swill to a bottle of Domaine de la Romanée-Conti Grand Cru 1945. He couldn't let you get away so easily, but he wasn't going to resort to savagery. No, he had other ways to get you to submit, it should be easy, after all, he could smell your arousal leaking down on your panties…

He finished wiping away at his face, pocketing his handkerchief away and bending down on one knee and reaching out a hand to you. “Apologies once more, my dear. This has never happened… happened to me before.” It sounded like he was apologizing for cumming too early, not for freaking biting your neck! You glare at the hand he was offering to you, but you still stopped your escape plan for now. “I don��t know if a simple apology is gonna cut it for trying to kill me, you know.” You hiss out at him, swatting away his hand when it comes closer like a cat.

Mihawk’s eyes widened by a fraction for a small second. “I wasn’t trying to kill you, my dear. I just wanted a taste but it seems that your blood was far more appetizing than I thought. Still, I would never kill you.” ‘You’re far too special for that.. And I have other things in mind for you…’ Mihawk levels his facial expression to look more docile, reaching out his hand once again. “I propose a deal, you let me drink some of your blood and I’ll make this night into an unforgettable experience for you.” He even gave you a small smile at the end, the slight quirk of his lips was enough to make you clench your thighs together.

Damn him and his handsome face…”What do you mean by ‘unforgettable experience’ exactly?” This time as Mihawk’s hand comes towards you, you decide to take it, his other hand swooping down to the small of your back to help lift you back up to your feet. He angles his head a bit towards you as he answers; “You know, my dear. I can tell how wet you got from earlier. My senses tell me that you crave in a different way. I can help take care of that for you, in simple exchange. A treat for a treat, shall we say? No tricks here.”

His smooth sultry travels to your ear all the way down to your core. Could you really trust a stranger, lest alone a Vampire, to keep his word? You’re weren’t exactly sure but you when are you ever going to get the chance to fuck a vampire? You could just blame your poor choices on the copious amount of second-hand weed you inhaled on this floor. You licked your lips, looking back up at the vampire. “Could I at least get your name first?” You asked shyly, feeling more anxious and embarrassed that he could tell how aroused you were by him.

Mihawk dips his head down to scrape his fangs over the pulse point of your neck. “Call me Mihawk, and you, my dear?” His hands grope at your sides, making you squeak out your name quietly. Mihawk runs his fangs over your neck once more, whispering your name over the bare skin. Then he pulls away from you, his pupils blown wide and lightly grabbing at your wrist as he leads you further in the library to a small corner with a couch in it.

He sits down on it first, spreading his thigh out wide as he tugs on your wrist to make you come in between them. His hands back on your side as he purrs out; “I should warm up my meal first, right?” “You know, I really don't appreciate being called tha-ohhHah!” Your complaints got whisked away as Mihawk’s fingers went under your dress and palmed at your panties. His fingers pressing down heavily on the wet spot in the middle.

His fingers pulled your panties to the side, exposing your pussy to the cold air and his strangely cold fingers as well. As he runs his fingers over your slick folds, your arousal drips down on his hand. He plunges in his digits into you, easily finding that spot that made your knees buckle. Your own hands grab onto Mihwak’s shoulder for balance, as he starts to find a good pace in and out of your pussy. The squelching noises echoed loudly in the eerily quiet library, your cries bouncing off the walls and back to you. “Mmff-fuc-fuck!” Mihwak kept going at an unrelenting pace, bullying your cute pussy, his wrist slapping sharply against your clit, your slick completely covering his hand at this point but he didn’t seem to care. In fact, as you try to focus your bleary eyes on his face, he was wearing a deadpan expression, his face unchanging even as your moans and knees get weaker and weaker when you start reaching your peak.

Your fingers clawing deep into his shoulders, the coil in your stomach finally snapping and you gush out on his hand, soaking his sleeves even. “Mm-uwaahhh…ahh-ah?! Mi-Mihawk! Wait-please-ahhH-fuck!” Your body bends over, throwing your arms around Mihawk’s neck and shoulders and squeezing tight as your knees lose all of its strength. Mihawk kept on bullying your abused pussy with his fingers even through your orgasm, going at a faster pace than before. A second orgasm was already building up, Mihawk’s other hand holding you up from behind so you wouldn't fully fall over.

“Fuck-fuck-fuck!” A colorful string of curses escapes your mouth as Mihawk forces another orgasm from you. This time Mihawk lets you collapse onto his lap, his non-stained hand massaging your back as you calm down. He softly put your thighs over his so you were spread open on his lap. His golden eyes scans your face as he unbuckles his pants and free his thick cock, rubbing the tip on your leaking folds, tilting his head in question. “Ready?” His low timbre voice was even, giving away no indication of how feral he felt inside.

You pout at his tone, huffing out a whine; “Can you at least pretend to like this?” You murmured, hands coming up to cup his face, thumb tracing over his smooth skin, no sign of aging or wrinkles anywhere to be seen. Mihawk’s self composure almost breaks at your tender touch, he was trying his best not to give away his inner thoughts. On how he absolutely wanted to ruin you, corrupt you, take you away from the outside world and lock you in his castle with him forever. But he couldn’t risk scaring you off, he wasn’t one for the chase, he preferred to keep things neat and tidy.

He breathes out, almost sounding annoyed, making you cringe inside. Your hands began to pull away only for Mihawk to grab them and put them back on his face. “Forgive me, my dear, I am just not used to…” He trails off, his eyes looking away from you and for a split second you could see the raging emotions he was hiding underneath. Feeling a bit bolder now that you know the kind of effect you had on him, you take action and lower your hips down, sinking his cock in you. Your previous orgasm made it easy for the first half of the stretch but he was far more lengthy than you thought.

Mihawk groans out, feeling your tight walls squeeze him, it was like heaven on earth to him, your pulsing heat shook him to his core. Seeing you struggle to take him fully, he gets even more riled up, watching your cute scrunched up face and pussy swallowing up half of his cock. Your hushed pleas for help, as you continue to struggle. He places his lips back on the bite mark he made, pressing open mouth kisses on the wound, as his hand strokes at your swollen clit, the other one on your hip gently guiding you down. “I-I don’t think it's going to fit.” You whine, jutting your bottom lips as your pussy gets stretched out even more.

“Don’t worry, my dear, it will fit.” ‘You were made for me after all…’ Everything about you drove Mihawk crazy and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t scared of this foreign feeling. He just thought that your blood was the only thing special about you, but he was wrong. You sink down slowly, taking in every inch of Mihawk, his thick throbbing vein dragging along your warm walls. As you finally bottom out on his cock, Mihawk sinks in his fangs, letting out a feral moan, almost to the point of whimpering.

He greedily gulped down your crimson saccharine nectar, you tried to alleviate the pain by moving your hips but Mihawk stopped you. His thumb was still lazily rubbing small patterns on your clit so you weren’t completely without pleasure. He lets go of your neck only so he could speak, his voice raspy and laced with heavy desire. “Don’t move too much, just sit here and let me take my fill, and th-then I’ll give you everything, my dear.” You wanted to protest but you felt you would be punished badly if you disobeyed so you stayed as still as you could. With Mihawk’s cock buried deep inside of you, his thumb only gives you enough pleasure to distract you from the stinging pain of having your blood sucked from you.

Mihawk slowed down his feeding, opting to lap sweetly at the blood, enjoying your small squirms and needy pants. He wanted to savor your taste, drinking too quickly would ruin his meal. He already made up his mind that he was going to kidnap you but that doesn't mean he couldn't have his fun with you right now. So it was, Mihawk kept you on his lap for what felt like hours, nipping at your neck when you tried to move too much or whine too loudly for his liking. Your mind starts blanking at some point, perhaps due to the bloodlost or from the constant edging, you had enough and didn't care about the punishment right now.

You rutted your hips forward, hands clawing at Mihawk’s open chest pitifully. Mihawk would punish you like normal, but after drinking so much of your blood, he was drunk on it. Giving your neck one last long lick and pressing his bloodied lips on yours, into a searing hot kiss. “Can’t fucking wait anymore, can you?” He thrusts up his hips, ramming his cock straight into your cervix. Bouncing his thighs in a ruthless rhythm, his hands pressing down on your hips so you felt every inch of his length in you, with no room to wiggle or move out.

“Panting like a fucking bitch in heat, haahh..” Mihawk grunted out, spreading out one hand to rub at your clit. “Is this what you wanted huh? Plap Plap…Plap! He stutters his hips once letting his cock almost slip out, only to slam it back in forcefully once more. Your eyes roll backwards, a whole new galaxy of stars appears in your vision. Your stomach tightens and snaps, releasing and gushing all over Mihawk’s thighs and lap. He presses his forehead against yours, running the bridge of his nose over yours for a bit.

A hand off your hip and now running through your hair, calming you down, and honestly he needed to calm down as well before his own coil would snap, his cock still sitting heavily in your core. His thighs trembling with need and desire but Mihawk was determined not to cum just yet; “Hmmmm.. Was that good enough for you? Going to finally be good now?” He sighs out, his voice quivers just a bit, if you were more clear-headed you would have caught that but you just loll your head down on his shoulder as your hole clenches and unclench on his cock, trying to adjust once more.

He softly pats your head, bringing up his other hand and summoning a book to his hand. He settles back on the couch, bringing you with and secretly making sure you’re comfortable. “Now behave while I read alright? If you interrupt me again, your next punishment will be much harsher…”

#one piece smut #one piece x reader #mihawk x reader #mihawk smut #₍ᐢ. ̫.ᐢ₎ softy writes #kinktober 2023

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boydepartment · 7 months

Text

“i’m in love with you” - with enhypen

a/n: last post for tonight i am sorry i’m trying to get back in a groove i promise

warnings- angst, fluff, it’s a good mix 😋 reader is intoxicated in jakes

wc- i’d say 100 words per member

MASTERLIST

jungwon- stupid for you by waterparks

you knew jungwon was a smart man. he always had a plan and he was always observant. until it came to you. oh my god he was so so so stupid. for years you were pining after him and always hyping him up. he always thought that’s just what friends do. so one day when you were hanging out at the dorms he turned to you.

“i don’t think you’ve ever had a crush on someone? that i’ve known about?” jungwon was curious. because he did like you, hell he LOVED you. he was just too stupid to realize you actually liked him back.

“because i haven’t.” you shrugged simply, you saw his face fall so you continued speaking, “…but i have been in love with you for years now.”

heeseung- my love mine all mine by mitski

heeseung and you have been dating for a couple months now, your relationship healthy. something you never thought you’d get in your life. for the most part you thought you’d die alone or unexpectedly. your luck was always against you, except when it came to heeseung… you both were in the kitchen slowly swaying back and forth. he told you about his busy day and you just watched him talk. his little mannerisms making your heart feel so warm.

“what’s going on in your pretty head right now, princess?” his smile got you

“i’m in love with you.”

jay- sea of love by cat power

jay had been in love with you since he became sentient. he spilled something on you in daycare and that was it. you smacked him upside the head and BOOM sentient. you were his first real memory. he’d never want that taken away from him.

but people grow, and move apart from eachother. and that’s what happened, while you continued studying, he became an idol. of course you still saw him for family things, but he’d always had a camera or body guard with him. it wasn’t the same anymore. so you distanced more. this wasn’t the lifestyle you liked or wanted.

during a holiday meal, jay finally got a minute alone and he pulled you into another room.

“what’s going on with you? i haven’t seen you in forever and now it’s like you don’t want to be around me…” jay mumbled

you looked at him now feeling extremely guilty, “i-i don’t know… it’s just a lot, your lifestyle isn’t for me and-“

it was now or never for jay.

“i’m in love with you. me being an idol isn’t forever. i want forever with you…”

jake- your graduation by modern baseball

you and jake had history. too much of it. it was constant of you calling him to pick you up from a party or something that you weren’t proud of. he was sick of it. jake was tired of watching you practically waste away. it pissed him off. and it honestly pissed you off, why did he care so much when he was the one who would never take your confessions of love seriously?

which led to the argument in the driveway, you drunk off alcohol and him drunk off anger.

“why do you even do this?! you didn’t used to be like this in highschool!” he yelled waving his hands around.

you poked him in the chest, “i don’t owe you any explanation for my feelings!”

“what do you have to be feeling about y/n?! to the point of making fucked up decisions!?”

his voice was loud.

you had enough, “IM IN LOVE WITH YOU AND NO MATTER WHAT I DO YOU NEVER NOTICE IT!”

sunghoon- kiss me by sixpence none the richer

sunghoon was infatuated with you. every spring you worked the saturday market. and every spring he would be your number one customer. always tipping you and always buying your produce. whether it be the apples, flowers, grapes, strawberries, anything. his favorite was when you made bracelets one year though. this went on for a really long time. sunghoon wanted to play the long game with you, you didn’t know he was an idol clearly. and he didn’t want to scare you.

“there’s my favorite customer! sunghoon how are you?” you’d smile at him. all sunghoon wanted was to kiss you, you and your bright smiling face.

“i’m really good today!”

he’d visit more than usual and the flirty banter would come back almost immediately.

“with how much of my stuff you buy i’d assume you’re like in love with me.” you laughed slightly

“i am. i am in love with you.”

sunoo- puppy princess by hot freaks

you had a boyfriend and sunoo was STUCK. he didn’t know why it bothered him so much that you were dating someone. you were his best friend, what was the issue?

oh yeah the fact he’s in love with you? yeah…. that’s a pretty big issue.

no matter what though, he kept you smiling and he kept dreaming. at some point sunoo couldn’t hold it in anymore. especially after your boyfriend dumped you out of the blue.

“he doesn’t know what he’s doing y/n. you’re too good for him.”

you looked at him with tears in your eyes, for a few minutes now he’s been joking with you trying to keep you laughing.

“i don’t know…. sunoo you’re gonna be biased because we’re friends.”

sunoo gave you a look, “i’m going to be biased because i’m in love with you.”

riki- apple cider by beabadoobee

you were never supposed to like him at all, you didn’t WANT to. neither did he if he was being honest. it was a weird dynamic between you and him. riki was conflicted and so were you, which led to both of you growing distant thinking the other was tired with the other.

one night when he had free time, he finally made his way to your home. riki obviously stuck out, it was dangerous and stupid but he was running on adrenaline. he knocked on the door hands shaking, when your parent called you from your room you were shocked to see riki standing there. he was obviously not supposed to be here.

“what’re you doing here?” you walked out and wrapped yourself up more when you shut the door behind you, now standing with him outside. it was cold and late, well later at night. you thought something was wrong especially when he refused to speak. you went closer to him and put a hand on his head to check his temperature.

“are you sick? did something happen? do you need to come in-“

“i’m in love with you.” he blurted out

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 2 months

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AITA for calling my friend out?

i (19F) have a friend V(19F). she seemed like an okay friend at first but has gotten on my nerves recently due to her acting like the “leader” of our group of friends. she tells us what we’re doing, where we’re going, and how to spend our money (we have a pool for alcohol that we share and even if it’s someone’s turn to pick what we get that weekend she still has final say). she guides conversations so they end up on her. she usually does this by describing her trauma until the conversation ends up with people feeling bad for her. i’m afraid of confrontation so i usually let this happen because, after speaking with my other friends most of them disagree that it’s a problem.

however, one thing has been really bothering me recently. she’s been talking about how poor her family is, even getting to the point of shaming me for being richer than her (my parents are IT consultants). however her family is paying all of her (very expensive) tuition and sends her $400 2x a month. a few months ago we were showing our neighborhoods and houses on street view, i pulled mine up and she told me “wow i knew you were bougie, but not THIS bougie”. she then pulled up her house, a one story house with peeling paint in a bad neighborhood. i thought nothing of it until she invited the group of friends to a party over spring break. she put her address in the text and i decided to look it up. it was a completely different house than the one she showed me originally. after conforming it was her households’ not a different family members, i looked it up on zillow. it is worth 200k more than mine and has a pool, hot tub, and is part of an HOA.

the next time the group hung out there was this girl i had a crush on there, V was trying to trauma bond with her by asking her about her home life (my crush is trans from a conservative family) (also V has gotten with some of my past crushes before, doesn’t matter to me because if they like her they wouldn’t have liked me anyway), V starts talking about how her family needs EBT to eat. i immediately cut her off and say, “i don’t think your family needs it if they send you $800 a month and have a $2k HOA fee.” she went quiet and i just continued. “i think it’s a little shitty that you’re telling people who are here on scholarship that you’re broke and then lying about where you live to seem like you’re worse off then you actually are.” she immediately left after that. the next morning i get a text from one of my friends and future roommates (me, them, and V are leasing next semester) that i embarrassed V and should have just confronted her in private. i asked if they care if V was lying and they tell me “not that much, she’s clearly acting out for a different reason. you just made it tense between all of us because she doesn’t want the rest of the group hanging out with you anymore”.

it’s been two weeks since this happened and i’ve only had contact with some of the people in the group. V confessed to lying about the wealth and finally said what her parents do for a living, her mom is a nurse and her dad is an injury lawyer (which also means she was lying about being a first generation college student, she brought that up after i told her that im getting scholarship money because my parents are immigrants)). however, she still doesnt want anyone to hang out with me because i embarrassed her in front of someone she had feelings for (i told her that i had a crush on this girl about a month before this went down). i want my friends back and i feel like i could’ve handled this better AITA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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teez-the-time · 30 days

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Strawberry and Wine: PREVIEW

Pairing: Consort! Seonghwa x Emperor! Fem! Reader

Genre: fantasy, romance, smut

Synopsis: as an Emperor, you liked to indulge in the pleasantries of life. The shiniest jewels, the best wines, the tastiest delicacies. But in the years of your reign, you had never found something as exquisite as the lips of Park Seonghwa.

Warnings: masturbation (f and m receiving), oral sex (f), breast play, piv sex, riding, dry humping, grinding, a lil food play, alcohol consumption (no drunk characters), pretty vanilla actually, body wordship, my characters are whipped as usual, pls tell me if I miss something

Wc: 7k-8k

Taglist:

Release date: April 21, 2024

A/N. Let's pretend like I didn't disappear for three entire months after promising to have some stories coming soon. College kicked my ass, but at least I have two free weeks before going back to that hellhole. Either way, if you want to be added to the taglist, comment here or DM me!!

The wing reserved for the royal consorts was exquisite and lavish. Several rooms expanded around, forming a circle with a marble fountain in the middle depicting two lovers embracing each other with the utmost intensity. A dome was constructed on top of it, so the lovers were perpetually bathed in sunshine or moonlight. The floors were carpeted with the finest rugs imported from exotic lands in faraway continents. No speck of dust could be found on any corner, and all vases were always kept full with your favourite flowers. All the artwork was seasonally changed and handpicked by the emperors themselves according to their consorts' tastes. After all, it was the emperors' duty to pamper them and keep them content.

Having prided enough in your work at the consort wing, you began walking through the left part of the circle. Despite being able to hold many guests, most of the chambers were empty. In your short reign as emperor, you had only taken four consorts, without planning to add more in the foreseeable future. As a female emperor, it wasn’t a good look for your legacy to be remembered for promiscuity rather than your political achievements. Also, you were quite content with whom you had chosen to be your lovers.

Normally, the consort wing was brewing with life, always full of servants and guards waiting on your partners. While it could be refreshing to breathe that atmosphere, it was undeniable that the emperor’s visit was a cause of drama in the palace. Everyone was always eager to learn who were you coming to see, what you talked about and what to expect, and no doubt the speculation resulted in scheming that you weren’t ready to discover just yet. That’s why you tried to keep your appearances late and spaced in between, just to keep gossip at bay.

And, maybe, add some excitement too.

Seonghwa’s room was the farthest away, much to your dislike. Nevertheless, the wait made your little escapade even more thrilling. You reached the door, softly knocking on the sturdy wood. A few seconds passed and no one answered it. You knocked again, and still no answer. By now, one of Seonghwa’s servants would have opened it to let you go in, but tonight didn’t seem to be the case. Starting to get worried, you grabbed the knob and tried to push it open by yourself. Surprisingly, it offered no resistance and you found yourself inside Seonghwa’s chambers. You were preparing to scold him for his imprudence of leaving a door unlocked at night when the most pleasant of smells inundated your nostrils.

At first, it was just the sweet aroma of vanilla and jasmine, but the more you breathed in, the richer the smell got. Soon enough, your mind was floating along with the scent, making you relax into the atmosphere. It reminded you of something hidden in the depths of the soul. Desire. It wasn’t strong nor overpowering, but it lingered there, just barely out of reach .

When you shook out the initial stupor of the aroma, you scanned the room looking for your companion for the night. Normally, he would be waiting for you in one of the exquisite sofas and chairs of the sitting area before the door, but tonight he wasn’t there either.

Apparently, the young lord had made sure that your night was full of oddities.

#teez the time #ateez #ateez fanfic #atiny #seonghwa #park seonghwa #seonghwa x reader #park seonghwa x reader #seonghwa smut #seonghwa fluff

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edwardspoonhands · 2 years

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You're just going to have to keep buying socks for your entire life. And it will not be a chore that you enjoy, and while it will provide you with a service (I don't know about you but for me putting my feet into my shoes without socks is like licking sandpaper) it's probably not going to be a particularly lovely part of your life.

What if, instead, you got a pair of socks delivered to your door every month. What if each pair was designed by a different independent artist. What if shipping was free to anywhere in the world. What if a small group of people had been working for years to make sure they're just really good socks?

And what if 100% of the profit was donated to decrease maternal and child mortality in Sierra Leone?

So yeah, that's what the Awesome Socks Club is.

The idea is just to make a thing that people like but, instead of the profit going to some stranger somewhere, it goes to make the world a better place?

Like, why not? It just seemed very 1980 to still be doing socks in a way where some already rich person gets richer because people want their feet to be not gross. So we work really hard to help artists bring their designs to life on wonderful socks (you can subscribe to either ankle socks or mid-calf crews) and then we send them around the world. And then, after we pay our taxes we send whatever's left over to make life better in an area of the world where one in twenty women currently die in childbirth.

It's one of the highest rates of maternal mortality in the world, and it just seems a lot more interesting to sell socks for that than for money.

I like the idea a lot, and it seems like other people agree, since there are now forty thousand members of the club. And maybe you are one of them! Or maybe you are not and you will be soon!

We also have a weird way of minimizing waste. We don't want to make more socks than we have members. So, most of the time, the club isn't open to new members, but every year, we open the club up to new members for two weeks. Those people will then get their first pair of socks in January. And, of course, you can cancel any time. (Seriously I've made sure that it's super easy to cancel because I ALSO HATE THAT SO MUCH).

If you want to join, here's a link. I think it'll give you five dollars off your first month if you click it.

#i know y'all have a lot of fun in the tags #but i think i already said everything i wanted to say

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bl00dsuccker · 11 months

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beginning, middle, end - e-42!miles

100% based of the iconic A Different World wedding scene

if you haven’t watched it, what are you doing with your life??

posting another ver for e-1610!miles because i love both of my bookies 😚

warning: google translated spanish

got spiderverse themed divider from @//saradika

even though it’s not implied, this was written with a black!reader in place so take that as you will <3

this is the song the title is based off of, you don’t have to listen to it but i love it

what were you doing? why were you doing this ?

you’d bullshitted your way into a relationship that served more harm than it did good. it was just supposed to be a placeholder, it was supposed to make him jealous, make him come to his senses instead of the usual, you going to him. you wanted it differently, but when 1 month turned into 1 year and that turned into 3…you knew he wasn’t going to come to you. he didn’t care as much as you thought or maybe his ego

the walk down the aisle was heart wrenching, and agonizingly slow. the big dress you wore felt like one hundred bricks and the eyes of everyone on you in the altar made it all the more worse. you had to force yourself to control your breathing as you neared your groom.

you want this. you want this. you want this.

you do not want this.

you want something completely different. you want someone completely different.

“you look beautiful, my love.” your groom said as he smiled. the name sounded so much different in english.

you gave him a small smile, not wanting to use your voice.

the preacher went on and on, the usual stuff about weddings and holy matrimony, but all you could think about was the man that you were not marrying, the man who had too much pride to right his wrongs, the man who gave you a goddamn headache, the man you wanted to just strangle until he got his sense returned to him, the man whose smile was very rare to see but when you did see it, you wanted to cherish it forever.

goddamnit, you weren’t supposed to be thinking about him at your own wedding! you weren’t supposed to be thinking about any man at your wedding.

“i do.” your groom answered the preacher.

shiiiit.

the preacher turned to you and began to talk about sickness and in health for richer for poor the who spiel and all you could hear was your beating heart and then silence, complete silence. no preacher talking, no talking of the vows, just eerie silence.

“baby?” the groom asked as he looked at his fiancée.

you snapped out of your trance to look at him, “hm?” you asked.

“are you okay?” he muttered.

no, you weren’t okay, but how could you tell your groom that? what could you even blame it on? cold feet? wedding day jitters? miles? no. you couldn’t blame it on anything. anything but being in love with someone other than your fiancée.

the more you went on being silent, the congregation started to murmur amongst themselves. whispers of ‘will she, won’t she’ and many other murmurs that were driving you crazy.

“what’s going on?”

“yeah!”

“are you gonna marry the guy or what?!”

the voices made you more anxious, the thought of speaking right now sent shockwaves through your body and you felt your mind start to race—

“will you, ma?”

a voice louder than the rest spoke out. the voice you’d been waiting to hear for 3 years, the voice you’d heard in your dreams, the voice you had reminisced about, daydreamed about. you turned around to make sure you weren’t dreaming him, and thank god you weren’t.

even at a wedding, he still donned his limited edition jordan’s he never looked finer in a suit and tie.

“te amo, hermosa y si me tienes, quiero que seas mi esposa. sé que no estuve allí, lo siento por no venir, antes era demasiado orgullosa pero no puedo vivir sin ti, hermosa, estaré mejor—” (i love you, beautiful and if you'll have me, i want you to be my wife. i know i wasn't there, i'm sorry for not coming around, i was too prideful before but i can't live without you, hermosa, i'll be better—)

“what is he even saying? get him out of here!” your groom yelled as a bunch of his groomsmen went to go grab miles.

“i’m telling her she don’t need to be with your ugly ass—get the hell off me!” miles yelled out and a slur or curses in spanish. you were so far in your mind that you hadn’t noticed miles’ uncle, aaron, getting up to defend his nephew.

miles had yelled your name as they all pushed him backwards, towards the door.

“will you have me, miles, as your lawfully wedded husband from this day forth? to have and to hold in richer for poorer? baby please, please!”

“i do!” you blurted out, not even needing time to think about your answer. the whole congregation gasped.

“what?” your groom looked at you, wide eyes. he tugged your arm so that you’d focus on him instead of miles who was no longer being pushed toward the door but instead he was breathing heavy and staring at you while the men that had tried to drag him out had stopped to look at you, all eyes were on you and this time, and it didn’t feel anxiety inducing.

“she said ‘i do’!” someone from the congregation yelled.

“but who the hell to?” someone else replied

“i…i’m sorry. i can’t marry you.” the emphasis on ‘you’ should have told him everything you need to know. you looked back at miles and tugged your arm away from your wilted groom.

miles had tugged himself away from the groomsmen & stared at you. you practically ran to him as you wrapped your arms around his neck and locked your lips together. he’d wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting you up and turning you around.

to your surprise, most of the congregation applauded in celebration while the others left with the groom.

“well, is someone getting married or what?!” the preacher questioned.

“we are.” miles responded back as pulled away from you and set you down, grabbing your hand & making your way to the altar.

“by the power vested in me i now pronounce you man and wife you—“ miles had already leaned you over to kiss you before the preacher could finish his sentence. “—may now kiss the bride.” the preacher finished quickly. everyone clapped and cheered, you could see the cameras flash behind your closed eyes.

now this is what you wanted.

miles pulled you back up & looked at you with such love and affection.

“mi esposa.” he said to you before picking you up bridal style, causing you to giggle, and taking off down the altar.

this is definitely what you wanted.

#earth 42 miles #miles morales #e-42!miles #spiderman #across the spiderverse #miles morales x reader #a different world wedding scene #atsv miles #miles morales x you #prowler miles #prowler miles x reader #bl00dsuccker

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