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lethby · 2 months

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The story of how Mammon fell first (and hard) ⍣ ೋ

Pairing: Mammon x GN!reader

Summary: What was going through Mammon's stupid (-ly cute) head the first few chapters of the game. And how mc survived the Devildom (mc angst yay)

You were a stupid human. There you stood, with that dumbfounded look in your eyes, scanning the foreign area with tensed shoulders. You couldn't look any more similar to a deer. A yummy and juicy deer in a lion cage.

"Mammon will be your guardian and he will ensure your safety in your stay here."

Say what now? This must be the most unfunny prank Lucifer has pulled on him. After some whining and protests, he learned that it was no prank. Come on, really? THE great Mammon babysitting some lousy human? This is even worst than all the three hour lectures combined!

He hated the idea, and made it very clear. Seriously, couldn't you walk any faster? Cat got your tongue? Stop being so startled by everything, it's driving him insane.

You, on the other hand, were about to cry. You were just sitting in your comfy bed looking through your phone and the next second you spawn on the literal pits of hell. You're following a strange demon that very clearly doesn't want anything to do with you. He was complaining to you nonstop about how much of a nuisance you are, how you look like the perfect meal and you can't really do anything about it because of how weak you are. Thanks.

You're walking a path completely unfamiliar to you under the eternal moonlight that gave very little light to your surroundings. Whispers and growls from the vicinities were driving you insane (that's two). Were they monsters? Demons? You didn't know, and that scared you.

You didn't know when you entered some classy big house, but the walls were already suffocating and the statues were gnawing at your mind.

Suddenly, all of the sounds drowned in your ears and became a mere vibration in your brain.

'I don't wanna be here. I wanna go home.'

When Mammon looked behind, he noticed the lifeless eyes that stared into the nothingness and sighed annoyed. You weren't listening to him! Just how much dumber can you get?

Then, a loud noise interrupted your trance, snapping you out of it. You put your guard up as an angry demon came straight in your direction two steps at a time. He shouted at Mammon for something about money. Your fogged mind didn't really comprehend much.

What you did comprehend was your so called guardian pushing you against the angry demon as bait while he made a run for it. The words spoken earlier about being nothing more than demon food replayed in your head like a broken disk.

'This is where I die'

Fortunately, the demon, whose name was Leviathan, showed the minimum manners you'd expect for a demon and left you be for the most part. Also, his room was nice. Like a peaceful change of scenery from all the dangers and noises of outside. You didn't mention it, but he caught you staring at his aquarium and jellyfish lights, so he hesitantly enlarged your stay. Just a little. Not much. He couldn't stand normies in his room.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the House of Lamentation, Mammon was laughing his ass off. He killed two birds with one stone, avoiding Levi and getting rid of you. At least for now, since he wouldn't hear the end of it if Lucifer found out he was totally evading his responsibility. However, at the moment he was just thinking about going to the casino and win some Grimm, easily forgetting about you. Why would he care, either way?

That night, when all the lights were out, the only soul who couldn't sleep was your own. In the silence of the late hours, there were no distractions keeping your thoughts to wander, so they did. The realization of the whole situation came crashing down like a waterfall. You laid with your eyes open, seeing but not watching. Your body was being hugged in a soft but harsh embrace by the unfamiliar sheets. The light of the little lamps, hanged on the strange tree, slightly illuminated the room. It wasn't even your room. It was a room. An unknown room in an unknown world.

'I'm not going home'

That thought prevailed on top of the other ringing ones. Cold tears slide through your numb face. You didn't bother wiping them as they kept falling from your eyes like dense, thick honey. You couldn't fall asleep, but you didn't want to be awake either. You didn't want to be right now.

The following morning, you tried to maintain a natural facade. Your dry answers made your voice sound alien to you, having used it so little since you arrived.

Mammon couldn't be more fed up with your attitude. Don't you know that makes you easy prey? He made sure to tell you. He was doing you a favor, you know? He doesn't understand why you become rigid at his statement, he was giving you a piece of advice.

The day continued without much change. Demons looked your way and licked their lips. You almost felt naked under their watching gaze, standing with your tail between your legs. You tried to follow along with Levi's plan about Mammon's credit card. Goldie, was it? Anyway, it's not that you were inspired to pass Lucifer's lie detector, but you did it anyways.

Your memory is incapable of remembering much of the day as you stood before the freezer. Levi had a frozen Goldie in his hand and Mammon was yapping about something, mostly complaining.

Your body worked on autopilot until you felt a burning sensation in your hand. You dazedly lifted it to see a yellow mark on the back of it. How did that get there?

Mammon swore he was about to lose it. You just made a pact with THE great Mammon and you looked like you didn't care. He grew himself to hate that emotionless expression on your face. He thought you would be less annoying if you showed any sign of, I don't know, humanness? Even demons reacted more than you! You could at least laugh at his jokes. That would be... Nice, I guess.

From that point on, you drowsily made it to your room. You sat on your bed and looked at the mark on your skin. You should be happy, shouldn't you? At least Mammon was now forced to protect you if you said so. He's the second oldest, that meant strong, or something, right? So why were you crying again? Why was it quietly raining on the golden pact? Yet another night filled with many water droplets that made a depressing pattern on the sheets. However, as numerous as they were, they all felt lonely and abandoned, like the eyes that shed them.

Mammon also wanted to cry, but for other reasons. Say embarrassment, if you had to name it. He was kicking every object in the floor that had the misfortune to make contact with his feet. Not so silent grunts echoed in the walls as he paced through his room. He forcefully shoved a pillow against his own face and screamed his heart out. Stupid human! Stupid! Incoherent curses left his lips until late at night, when he fell asleep.

The next morning, Mammon tapped his foot impatiently. It was already becoming unbearable with the constant berating of his brothers, that were making fun of him. THE great Mammon doesn't wait for no one! Well, except you, I suppose. But that's because he has to!

When you finally came down, Mammon scoffed and pulled you along, not leaving you time to have breakfast. Fine, it's not like you were hungry, anyways. You've lost your appetite ever since coming here. Three days into the Devildom and you looked the same as day one, if not worse. It was getting harder to breathe as timed passed and the dark circles under your eyes were starting to rival the dimness of the night sky.

The day followed as usual. You really hoped you weren't expected to get good grades here, because everything that managed to get into your brain left rapidly like a ghost train with no passengers. You only caught something about a TSL tournament against Levi. Why did you agree to that again? Oh yeah, to enter his room. Why did you want to...? Nevermind, you only knew that one moment you were at RAD and the next you were walking home with Mammon.

He was ranting about something about the casino or Lucifer, as usual. You didn't mind the background noise of a somewhat known (although rather annoying) voice for the most part. However, what he said next as he flicked your forehead wasn't part of that 'most'.

"Ya know, yer lucky I take time off my very busy schedule to walk ya home. If you keep spacin' out like that, yer only makin' yourself an easy prey to any passerby!"

Three times. He now has called you 'prey' three times. You stopped in your tracks with your head low, nails stabbing your palms in a fist. Mammon looked confusedly at you after noticing you fell behind. The sight of your figure made him both exasperated and... was that worry? Nah, just exasperated. You murmured something under your breath he didn't quite catch.

"Huh? You gotta speak louder that that, deer"

That's it. You suddenly lifted your chin, locking eyes with his deep blue ones. Mammon visibly flinched at the hatred they held. That raw emotion radiating from your pure anger was the first time he saw you actually alive.

"I said, stop calling me that. I get it, really do. I'm nothing more than a stupid, defenseless piece of meat that got trapped into a world filled with wild beasts willing to have a bite, I know. You think I asked for this?! I have enough with the situation as a whole for you to keep reminding me of it!"

In that moment, your voice didn't sound like it was yours, but it still spoke what your heart felt. The demon in front of you was left speechless. To him, your outburst was an overreaction that caught him by surprise, not knowing the pent up pressure you hid in your fragile body. Now, it was his brain's turn to not process the information around him, since when he snapped out of his trance, you were already a few meters ahead stomping your way to the House of Lamentation.

He fucked up. He knew he fucked up. Ever since seeing the way your brows furrowed the moment you first interacted, Mammon knew he was fucking up. Every part of him was screaming at him, but he didn't dare to admit it, not even to himself.

So even now, he hid behind a mask of annoyance. Look at you, walking just ahead of him without care. When he told you to show emotion, he didn't mean that you could get angry at him! How dare you yell at the Great Mammon like that?! Don't you know how easily someone could attack you there all alone? Don't you know that any demon could kill you with ease? Don't you know how much you look like prey-...

...

Don't you know how bad he doesn't want that to happen?

By the time you reached the House of Lamentation, your anger hadn't subsided one bit. It was like all your pent up emotions mixed homogeneously into anger and exploded uncontrollably. Even so, you don't regret that happening. Why would you? You've been treated like nothing but a nuisance ever since you stepped foot here. Regret comes from realizing bad choices, and the only one you've made was letting these demons drag you to hell.

You make a dash to the room you've grown accustomed to and quickly close the door without slamming it from frustration, not trying to get unwanted attention. When you stand under the tree lights is when you notice the pools in your eyes, ready to cascade at any moment.

'Shit, this always happens when I'm angry'

You rub furiously at your wet eyes to get rid of the tears and, when that doesn't work, you throw yourself on the bed and scream into the nearest pillow. Too tired to get up, you close your eyes for a moment, waiting for your mind to find peace on its own. Or at least some silence.

You don't realize when or how long you've been asleep, but your cheeks are dry when a knock in your door wakes you up. You really didn't want to answer, but the knocks only got more frequent and impatient the more you ignored them. You hesitantly untangle yourself from your sheets and get to the door.

To your demise, at the other side was the last person you wanted to see at the moment. Mammon stood there in a futile attempt to check on you before nighttime. He looked everywhere except you, hoping he didn't have to stare at your hatred eyes again.

"You didn't come for dinner."

You've slept the day.

"Didn't feel like it." You lied

Mammon furrowed his brows and put his hands in his hips hoping it would boost his own confidence.

"Don't humans have to eat to survive? If ya starve to death, Lucifer will kill me."

You've been like shit for the past three days and now he worries. Real smooth, Mammon. At your lack of response, Mammon realized he was losing you, so he quickly tried to come up with something else.

"Anyways... You have the TSL tournament with Levi tomorrow, dontcha? Well lucky for you, the Great Mammon has brought you the series so you can watch them tonight! I still think yer gonna lose hard against the nerd but-"

You tuned out the rest of his speech and looked at the wall beside you. You definitely didn't want to speak to, listen to or be with Mammon. You didn't want to go to the tournament and you didn't want to spend the night binge watching this random TSL thing. Despite all the things you didn't want to do, Mammon still pushed you inside and prepared the TV. You sulkily sat in your bed making yourself comfortable, trying not to kick the demon off when he sat beside you.

A couple of hours passed and you were hating every part of this. The show, Mammon and everything... Or that's what you thought would happen.

In reality, you felt a familiar yet longing feeling of... Home. The series was actually not bad and, being used to movie nights back in the human world, you were at more ease doing something you enjoyed. Besides, it kept your mind occupied and away from everything, which you wish you could have done before. Finally, though you hate to admit it, Mammon's presence was actually not so bad. His comments were actually funny and it gave you the feeling of hanging out with your friends, forgetting the events from before. You've never felt like this here, but you weren't complaining for once.

Meanwhile, Mammon was having his own silent crisis besides you. He was sure you were having the worst time of your life. How could you not? You skipped dinner just to not see him! Besides, he locked himself in your own room forcing you to watch something for a stupid contest. But he wasn't doing it on purpose, he swears! He actually was here in an attempt to make amends with you. However, getting the words out was proving to be more difficult than he thought. He tried to ease the atmosphere by joking around, but his knee was still bouncing in a constant rhythm. Mammon wasn't akin to apologizing, much less to a human.

Minutes turned into hours and he honestly was about to explode. He stopped paying attention a while ago and even began sweating. Unable to hold off any longer and despite his awkwardness, he turned to you with his eyes closed.

"Human, I-"

A soft, mermaid-like sound followed a funny scene in the screen, interrupting him, but it was not part of the show. The demon shifted his attention to the source of it, and then it hit him. You. It was your laughter.

That was the second time he saw you express any kind of emotion, but the first he saw the way the corners of your lips tilted upwards and your eyes squint while trapping a warm shine within them. Mammon saw you in another light, a light that newly illuminated your features since you came to the Devildom. A light that showed your smile. And damn, how pretty it was.

He then took notice of your posture, with details for the first time. From the way your legs intertwined with one another to how your arms kept a pillow close to your chest with relaxed shoulders. Where you always like this? No, no you weren't. Right now, in his eyes, you were far from the scared deer that annoyed him so much; now feeling like he was looking at one of those elegantes statues in Diavolo's castle. He still hadn't realized, but your smile trapped him like a siren's song. Your humanness he oh so wanted you to show now left him speechless.

He didn't know when the marathon ended, but he found himself waving you goodbye casually at the other side of your door. To his surprise, you tiredly waved back, although with no smile painting your face. In that moment, walking back to his room, he just thought of ways to see it again. To see your light.

When he landed on the comfort of his sheets, he felt once more the pact that tied you together and didn't feel embarrassment or hatred anymore. He felt something else deep within his heart, something that he couldn't quite put his finger on. A sense of connection he never felt before.

Then he sat up in a swift.

...He didn't apologize!

He threw his hands to his face and groaned, although the frustration in it not directed at you now, but at himself. He had yet to realize that it was always at himself.

You on the other hand just went to bed first thing to catch the hours of sleep taken from you. However, your mind stayed clear and your cheeks remained dry for the first time under de Devildom's sky.

The next day followed as usual. Everyone in the House of Lamentation woke up, had breakfast and headed to RAD following their own routine. You and Mammon did no different, but both of you could tell the atmosphere shifted for the better. Your eyes shined in a way that made him forget all the reserved glares, and Mammon made sure to not comment on anything that could make you uncomfortable. It was like a weight cleared off your minds and the heavy air was easier to breathe. Where before you found an obstacle, now you saw a person, a friend even.

At RAD, you even tried to socialize a little more. You found that the best way to cope with the situation was to actually try and enjoy it. Surprisingly enough, chatting with the other exchange students proved to flow rather easily, interacting more than you've ever had here. What stood up to the angels and Solomon, although they didn't mention it and despite their initial surprise, was your contrasting behavior that made the atmosphere so light. Thankfully, they left with content, and so did you.

Although you still had a long way to go, the mist of terror that obscured your eyes dissipated enough to let some light pass through, which you were grateful for.

However, as the school hours finished and the time for TSL tournament approached, a unnerving feeling squeezed your chest. You had come up with a plan in the morning, and you even got the help of Simeon. The plan, unfortunately, had a major flaw, as you were advised that taunting the Avatar of Envy's sin was a dangerous game to play, lethal even. And you weren't in the mood to play games.

The brother's all headed to the tournament's location, whether their intentions varied from amusement to seeking shed blood was not for the demons to judge. Admits the powerful beings, stood one that didn't attend for neither reason.

While Mammon walked at his own pace, suddenly his shirt was tugged. He turned confusedly and, when he saw you gripping his clothes with one hand as you looked directly at the floor, something pulled at his heartstrings. A feeling that was forced out of him when your voice snapped him out of his trance.

"Will you come if things go south?" You said barely above a whisper.

That was the longest sentence you spoke to him ever. Well, when you weren't angrily putting him in his place.

"Huh?"

Confused by the many elements you surprisingly decided to display before him, your question caught him off guard. However, seeing as you kept your mouth shut and shifted in your spot, he quickly turned to you completely.

"Ah- I mean, of course! What kind of guardian would I be if I didn't? Count on me!"

The slight hope in your eyes allowed his to muscles relax. And when he saw that light, he remembered that night. But most importantly, he remembered what he didn't say. His usual easy chat turned dry in his throat at the thought, but he had to get it out of his chest. While you confusedly looked at his still stance with a brow raised, he looked at you with a new determination in his eyes.

"I-" His hands sweaty and his ego shattering, he still looked at you "I'm sorry for calling you prey" ...That was easier than he thought-

"You're forgiven"

What?

I mean, this is what he hoped for but... Your immediate response made his eyes widen as he stared at you dumbfounded. Meanwhile, yours dropped, but not with the melancholy Mammon was used to. They dropped in softness. He already lost count of the times he got lost in them.

Your steps felt light approaching Levi, whether they were from determination or dizziness, you were not sure. Orange irises looked down on you without a drop of doubt he would win. Feeling small, you glanced to the side and caught deep blue eyes looking back at you. With mixed emotions, you took a deep breath as Asmo extravagantly initiated the duel.

You noticed the difference on difficulty on the questions and you didn't know if you should be grateful or worried, feeling the amusement in Asmo's voice as Levi's frustration grew more evident.

Then, the moment of truth came. You played with your fingers as you recited future events that were yet to appear in the show, leaving the demon before you speechless. Just as you finished your rambling, your gaze caught coral-like horns and a dark tail slashing the air with a frightening speed and strength. You tensed and the danger everyone has warned you about ran through your veins with a chill. Levi's predatory look made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. You were prey.

Mammon jumped in your aid the moment your eyes locked with his in a cry for help. His help. He wasn't the fastest for nothing. You didn't even have to use the pact to get him running in your aid. He wanted to save you. He had to. Not because Lucifer told him or, heck, even Diavolo. He had to because he cared. Because he didn't want to see you hurt. However, the world, along with his heart, made a flip as his knees connected with the floor, his will to get up forced down by the slippery surface.

'Fuck, I'm not gonna make it'

His frown deepened as he saw you backing away from Levi and falling, making a pained expression. Just when he was about to unleash his demon form to get to you, two pairs of black feathery wings blocked your figure from the aggressive demon's way.

His lips let out a shaky breath, but the shine in his eyes still wavered. He couldn't pay attention to the scene unfolding before him; how Lucifer calmed down Levi with the help of Diavolo and his brothers gripped the wood railing in anticipation. No, his focus was entirely submitted to you.

His pupils shrunk as he scanned the way your chest rapidly rose and fell with each panicked breath. How your eyes trembled as they stared at the floor beneath. And most importantly, how you clutched your red wrist close to your chest.

His heart clenched and his thoughts ran wild.

'They got hurt. They are hurt. I couldn't save them. They're scared. I let this happen. I should have saved them. They trusted me to. They hate me. They're hurt. They-'

...

The walk back to the House of Lamentation was tense. Silence prevailed except for the occasional whispers of the brothers. Levi stomped his way to the front leaving the others behind while you slowly walked in the back. Besides you was Mammon, who kept sending you quick glances from time to time. However, you didn't get to notice, occupied in your small steps and shaky breaths.

Your mind ran wild like it never had before. You almost died. That reality felt so far yet so suffocating, enhancing the stinging pain in your wrist. You were helpless. Small. Weak. Every noise and movement in your peripheral echoed in your head like a broken radio. Like before. You were sent back to zero.

The depressing steps to your room fell on deaf ears. Accompanied by two demons, Mammon and Beel, you sat on your bed on autopilot. It felt dry under you, but you knew how it soaked in your sadness numerous times, and you had a feeling it wouldn't be long before it did again.

The mattress sunk on both sides, and you couldn't stop the flinch of your body when a tanned hand reached for yours with a first aid kit nearby. You hated how you were scared of that hand crushing your already damaged wrist. A hand that you've once reached out for. You hated how you couldn't stop your muscles from tensing. How your jaw clenched. How your breath wavered. How you could only see spiky fangs and horns on the demons that came to comfort you.

You didn't register the bickering of the other two, not how one stood up and left until the door closed.

Mammon really tried to bandage your frail wrist as best as he could, but he was distracted by constantly glancing up every few seconds. He checked your eyes and the way they gazed into nothingness. And he checked again and again and again, because he couldn't believe it. Because he didn't want to believe it. The light that once filled your eyes with emotion faded away. That light he grew to search for as a candle in a snow storm, gone; replaced again by the lifeless shell of your irises.

That was until they shone, but with tears. The depressing hour didn't stop for you, even when not alone. You didn't even react until a pair of hands gripped your upper arms.

Two sets of eyes looked at each other, both conveying very different emotions. However, none spoke a word, their voice locked in their throats for their own reasons. The silence of the calm before the storm.

The trance was broken by launching yourself at Mammon in a desperate hug, which he didn't expect at all. It took a moment for his embrace to match your own, messy wrist already forgotten. By that time, you were uncontrollably sobbing in his arms, which made him hide his frown on the crown of your head.

At this point, you didn't know by what, but you were terrified. No matter human or demon. Friend or foe. You needed a shoulder to cry on, rather than something to shed your tears to. You needed someone.

Mammon shared whispered apologies that accompanied your sobs. Neither of your grips loosening on one another, your hands locked into fists behind his back while he secured his own in your hair and waist.

And that's when it hit him. He wanted to protect you. At all costs and by any means. He wanted to give himself to you. He wanted to love you.

I can't believe this is finally finished. And I can't believe I got the motivation from a YouTube video on how to properly write. And I can't believe it worked.

Anyways we all know the game isn't heavy on angst and the fandom has to do the work so here is my contribution! Hope you like it and stay tuned for my rewrite of lesson 16! (I feel like that's gonna be even harder to write)

Do what makes you happy,

Lethby ༊*·˚

#mammon x mc #mammon obey me #obey me mammon #mammon x reader #x reader #obey me mc #obey me #fancition #fanfic #om! x reader #fanfiction #mammon x gn!reader #gn reader

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holbrookism · 2 months

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saw this on twitter and immediately thought about unhinged clegan wound tending scene

gale gets seriously injured some time during the stalag period, and of course bucky insists on taking care of gale and nursing him back to full health. (un)fortunately they get a little (a lot) freaky with it -- john finally getting his fix of feeling Needed and Useful while gale has a reason to let go and be Taken Care Of for a little bit.

john produces first aid supplies from god-knows-where and dressing gale's injury so seriously and tenderly. the wound is slightly infected and gale's sporting a low-grade fever, stuck on bed rest and a little delirious half the time. bucky knows he has to disinfect it and stitch it up soon so he procures some illicit booze, half of which he makes gale sip on to ease the pain, while the other half is poured onto the wound itself.

the delirium from gale's fever, combined with breezy drunkenness from the homemade rew alcohol, combined with the gentle intimacy of john's touch amidst all the months of suffering and distance!!! its driving gale insane and he's making the most deranged sounds, little muffled whimpers of pleasure and pain while he squirms on the tiny cot of a bed -- and john is trying his hardest to behave under these conditions but god /damn/.

wound tending but it's basically sex for them. all blown pupils and gentle encouragement that could be easily confused for pillow talk. i can't even get into how Abnormal they'd both be about the grosser stuff.

john has to clean out gale's wound from the INSIDE and gale almost passes out from the pain but he's thinking about how some of john's cells will always be inside him once it heals up. romantic to their unhinged minds.

meanwhile john is losing his shit over the idea of stitches, he's being so so careful and reverently ghosting his fingers over the thread, thinking how lucky he is to leave his mark forever. then being violently guilty about these sicko thoughts.

sighs fondly. they're very unwell.

#mota #clegan #cw light gore?

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pablitogavii · 8 months

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Jealous reader?

No need to worry, I'm yours

She kept touching him ... and here I was sitting in the car watching it all happen right in front of my eyes.

I knew it would be hard dating someone with so many girl fans who wanted all of his attention all the time. It was the fact that Pablo gave them the bare minimum and always fully focused on me.

Today I had a bad day so seeing this was the breaking point and we fought inside our hotel room. I flew with him for his away game and all I wanted was more of his attention meanwhile he was very stressed and didn't know what he did to cause my cold behavior.

"I'll take you to dinner later ..." he said after packing for his training session but I didn't reply keep 'reading' my book in bed.

"She's driving me insane with these silent treatments, hermano!" Gavi was talking to Fermin while they waled together clearly not in the mood for anything right now.

"It's girls, their way to show us something is wrong ..." Fermin answered tapping Pablo's shoulder in reassurance.

"I don't know what is wrong! Why can't she just tell me? I did nothing freaking wrong!" Gavi said tossing his bag on the rack and starting to get ready.

I was in the shower when Pablo came back having my dress already chosen on the bed and he smirked touching the red silk. He really just wanted this stupid argument to end.

"I found this Italian place ..." Pablo said while I walked in taking the dress and walking to closet to wear it. I already cooled down but the way he was looking at me drove me insane.

"Amor ... can we stop?" he walked in noticing the way I struggled with zipper so he took over resting his hands around my waist after finishing.

"What did I do? " he whispered moving my hair to the side and starting to leave kisses down my neck. I really liked the sudden attention so I pulled away just to see what he does.

"Basta nena!" he growled grabbing my hips and pulling me back against him and I bit my lower lip feeling him hard underneath his pants. God this man was driving me mad!

"Hm you'll leave a mark Pablito ..." I say shyly feeling his hold tighten on my waist while he smirked resting his chin on my shoulder again.

"Good ... you're mine nenita" he said sucking in a prominent mark on my neck and I fought an urge to moan loudly.

"Now tell me what got my girl mad at me, huh? Tell your Pablito, nena" he said turning me around so that I was facing him and he tucked a piece of my hair behind my ear.

"You were talking to her for so long ..." I whisper and he took a moment to think before realizing what I was talking about now.

"With a fan? Aii nena are you un poco celosita, mi amor??" he pinched my cheeks and I immediately denied it. Well obviously!

"Zero celos! It's fine, whatever!" I try pulling away from Pablo but he pushed me into a corner of our closer and trapped me there against the wall.

"Hmm I like it princesa ...but hear me when I tell you, I'm obsessed with you ...and nobody else even crosses my mind. I promise, bueno?" he said in reassuring tone and I just nod still a little unsure cause the girl was really pretty. Pablo raised my chin gently caressing my cheek.

"Yo te amo, princesita ...only you" he said and it took me a little by surprise cause Pablo was never direct like this before. He really just said I love you like it was nothing straight to my face... this boy is special for sure.

"Yo tambien te amo Pablito ..." I say with blushed cheeks while he still held my face in his big hands and we looked into each other's eyes.

"Then there is no need to worry about mi amor, I'm yours bueno?" he said leaving small kisses on my cheeks while I slowly smiled again and he did as well glad I was talking to him again.

"Bueno ..." I said shyly but he wanted me to sound completely certain so he didn't let me go yet.

"Look into my eyes and say it loud and clear. Say, you're mine Pablo Gavi!" he said and I blushed looking back into those warm chocolate brown orbs.

"You're mine Pablo Gavi!" I said and he smirked nodding his head and kissing my lips passionately while his hands went underneath my dress grazing my legs.

"Hmmm yes I am baby, and you're all mine too!" he said kissing my neck and I moaned nodding my head while throwing it back in response.

"We still have our dinner reservation, but later ...I wanna hear more of those sweet moans of yours ...me vuelves loco amor" he said and I smile nodding my head asking him to zip my dress up fully and he does so as we finish getting ready for dinner.

pablogavi

All yours princesa👸🏻💗

comentarios:

gavifans: AAAAA lindosss!

y.n.bebe: mi amor💗💗💗

pablogavi: mi vidaaa

y.n.bebe: mi rey!🤴🏻

pablogavi: solo tuyo princesaaa

gavirafamily: him being proud of being hers!!!!

aurorapaezg: 😍😍😍

pablogavi: ❤️

y.n.bebe: hermanaa. liked by aurorapaezg

gaviragirls: he looks so good with her DIOSSS

gavi.y.n.fans: the forehead kiss 😍😍😍

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iznyangwoni · 2 months

Text

EASY TO LOVE | chapter eight!

warnings: VERY suggestive, kind of smut but not really? mentions of being drunk

You dont even know what time it is when you’re so drunk you can barely hold yourself up. Wonyoung is the most sober one, and by most sober you mean that she can’t really walk straight, but she has enough strength to pull Moka off the floor. You girls are giggling like maniacs, and by this point you cant even remember why you started laughing.

You press your back on the wall, watching as Wonyoung struggles to help your other friend. You would help too if your head wasnt spinning so much. So you stand there, looking around. Nicholas is fast asleep on the couch, meanwhile Jay and Sunghoon are nowhere to be found. Jungwon is on the platform, talking with his friends.

Your eyes rest on him for a few more seconds, just a few.. His blazer was somehow even more open now, you could see the line of his chest, even his abs. You take a deep breath, thinking about the way his hand was touching your thigh not too long ago. The way his lips were whispering in your ear, your leg on his. Fuck.

Without even realizing you’re already walking towards him, your hand on his shoulder and he immediately turns to look at you. “Hey pretty. Feeling tired?” You look at his friends, at it takes them a quick glance to understand that they need to go, leaving you and Jungwon alone. “Worse..”

You say softly, your hand slowly coming down to his arm. You still dont get too close to him, you can see the lower floor by the inside platform, but that means that people from there can see you too. Your eyes once again fall to his chest and he lets out a quiet chuckle, your hand moves on its own, touching his necklace before going just a bit down on his chest.

“I thought you weren’t interested in sleeping with me?” You raise your head to glance at him, your hand not moving from that place. “I wasn’t looking for it… but if the right time comes…” “is this the right time?” “is it not?” Jungwon has to beg his whole body to not just lean in and kiss you as if its the only thing he wanted. The way you’re looking at him, its driving him mad.

“Follow me.” You say, and he just nods, following you wherever you want, the only thing on his mind being how your lips would taste on his, how your soft skin would feel under his big hands, how much he needed to be inside you. He groans when you close the door of a random room, the lighting is so dark and blue, he could see you perfectly, but it was good enough to get him in the mood.

He doesnt think twice before pushing your back towards the wall, his body so close to yours, his hands on your waist, slowly going up and down to caress your sides. “You’ve been playing with me for days..” He whispers, biting your ear as he starts giving open mouthed kisses to your neck, you close your eyes, letting him do whatever he wants with you.

“Do you think its fair?” He bites your skin, his hands gripping even more on your hips, meanwhile yours unbutton his blazer completely. “Telling me not to get hard while you look like this..” His jacket falls on the floor with a loud thud, you open your eyes only to look at him, your hands going all around his upper body, his broad shoulders, toned chest, muscled arms.

You cant help but whine when he grabs your ass, you didnt think he could make you get so wet only by these touches. “You better shut that mouth and just kiss me before i go insane.” You dont even have to finish the sentence for his lips to be on yours, they taste even better than you would’ve thought, he’s not too rough, but he still gives you the feeling that he wants to devour you.

Your hands go between his hair, fingers wrapping with his locks as you bring him down to kiss you better, his tongue interlocking with yours, pants and groans leaving both of your mouths. You make out for a while, until your hear the announcement that the club is about to close. Fuck, is it already so late?

Jungwon pulls out of your lips, a string of saliva still keeping you attached. “Should we..?” “No.” You dont want to stop, you still have thirty minutes, you know you can make the best out of them. “We.. still got time..” You breathe out, your lips attacking his neck and chest, your hands going to his pants. He moans, and god, you didnt believe he could be so loud, but you have to admit its only turning you on even more.

The announcement goes on again and he stops your hands, you whine, too drunk to really understand how risky this is. He kisses your cheek before taking a step back. “I guess it wasnt the right time, pretty.” You watch him as he takes his blazer from the floor and puts it on, you pout, biting your bottom lip nervously.

He buttons up only one of the buttons and you pout even more, how can he be so hot even after rejecting you so casually? He takes your hand in his and brings you out of the room, your boots have been hurting like hell for hours now, you can barely walk down the stairs.

You finally reach your friends, who are standing in the parking lot, trying to figure out who should drive and who shouldn’t. “There you are!” Wonyoung pinches your cheek, and you close your eyes, too drunk and tired to even complain. “Y/n are you okay? You sure you can go home like that?” She then asks, holding your face in her hands, you just mumble.

Honestly, no. You cant go home like this, if the cameras were to catch you all stumbling around your house you’d be done for, and no other people can enter after midnight, so going back is not an option. “Its fine, she can stay with me.” Jungwon is the one to speak and you raise your head to look at him, only to then rest your forehead on his shoulder.

“Yeah, no she wont.” “Sunghoon-“ “We don’t know him!” You’ve never seen Sunghoon so mad. You know he cares for you a lot, but he never really acted like this. “I’ll go with Jungwon.” You manage to say, the latter puts his arm around your waist, not wanting you to fall by any chances.

Sunghoon is about to say something but Wonyoung, whos the only other one able to actually think, speaks. “It is better for her to go with him, Hoon your parents are still home and you dont want to repeat what happened to her last year, do you?” At that point the older guy just stays silent, the answer being obvious.

Wonyoung then looks at Jungwon with the coldest glance she can provide, her hands on your head. “I’ll tell her brother she’s sleeping at my house. You better not touch her, understood?” “Who do you guys take me for? I’m not touching her when she’s so drunk.” You pout even more, damn you really had hope for something to happen.

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a-tiny-thing · 8 months

Text

break in pt.2 // m.l

burglar!mark x rich!reader

pt.1, pt.2, pt.3, pt.4

he's never coming back...

you already told yourself that multiple times, but you were still standing on front of your dining room's window, looking around for any signs about mark's arrival.

"honey, what are you looking for?" your mom sweetly called out your name, making you halt your actions.

"oh, nothing, just nothing" you shook your head, but it's not convincing enough for your mom to believe you.

'clearly, there's something going on' your mom thought. but she just doesn't want to bother you more.

her and his husband's jewelries went missing a few nights ago, but it didn't bother them that much since those were actually old and boring to wear now.

they also planned on going on a trip to a another jewelry shop someday to buy more.

"well, just sit down for a while and eat 'cause dinner's ready"

you walked over to a chair with a slumped back, sat down with a defeated sigh, and ate.

he's never coming back...

he already got what he wanted...

you told yourself again, just to make you let go of him already.

meanwhile, mark is back on the streets.

stealing phones and wallets as usual, with his best buddy haechan.

"yo dude, you should get that guy" haechan held onto his left shoulder, came close to his ear and pointed at a middle-aged man in a luxurious white suit, busy typing on his phone as he stands in the middle of a sidewalk.

"why can't you?" mark looked at him and asked.

"'cause i'll be handling that poor old lady right there" haechan pointed at the lonely granny on the other side of the street, waiting for the green light turn into red so she could walk, using their walkers.

"and if i helped them cross the street, she would give me lots of money!" haechan smiled at the thought.

"and if she doesn't?"

"i'll steal their purse" haechan said, as mark shakes his head.

"whatever, i'm on that guy.." mark said before walking towards that middle-aged man.

he ignored haechan's "good luck" behind him as he thinks of a way to rob that guy without being caught.

mark then, stands too close to him, but seems to be unnoticed. he looks around the area, pretending to admire it to avoid suspicions from other bystanders.

his hands slowly reach up to the man's left pocket, the fat wallet with credit cards and cash are coming into his view.

holy shit...

mark cautiously dipped his hand into the man's pocket, his fingers finally coming in contact with the leather texture.

'i got it! i got i--' mark slowly lifts up the wallet until

"MARK!"

"huh?" he muttered as he turned his head around quickly to spot a familiar girl running up to him fastly.

"hey wait! no!" he said, but you already hugged him.

it was you.

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

you thought that maybe going around the city with your parents can take your mind off him.

and oh boy, it didn't.

you stilk think about the kiss with him, every now and then.

it's driving you insane.

"do you like to buy something, sweetie?" your mom asked, sat beside your father on the driver's seat, looking at you through the rear-view mirror inside the car as she applies her lipstick on.

"yeah i guess so, i'm planning to get new shoes, my classmates already saw my old ones multiple times" you told them, thinking about the time your other rich classmates made fun of you for wearing the same shoes in school thrice.

"okay! me and your father will just be hanging out at the jewelry shop right there" your mom said, pointing at a jewelry shop you didn't even bother to look at.

they dropped you off to the side, as the car you were just in drives away to another direction.

you strolled around the city, finding some nice shops to shop in, and thinking of mark as well...

hmm, i wonder what he's doing right now

you thought to yourself, until you spotted that oh so familiar black beanie.

you couldn't believe it!

"MARK!" you screamed before running up to him. the people passing by suddenly stopped to look at you until continuing to walk again.

the middle-aged man was nudged a little, so he decided to move away from what's happening.

mark frowned at him leaving, and then looked down at you, still hugging him.

"oh my god, i thought i'll never see you again" you said to him, basking in his warmth.

his hands mindlessly went to hold onto your waist and push you gently, hoping you'll get the signal from him to let you go.

"don't you know i've waited for you for so long to come back?!" you looked up at him with some cute puppy eyes. you hope.

"I..." mark clearly doesn't know what to say as he looked to the side and spotted haechan watching them, sporting a beige purse on his arm with a smirk on his face.

"help me" mark mouthed at haechan, but he just laughed at him.

mark looked down on you.

"uhh, okay, it's nice to see you again too, but i have to go" mark said to you, finally making you let go of him.

"huh? where are you going--" you asked as mark quickly leaves the area. you couldn't find him anymore.

he left you confused and dumbfounded.

AGAIN.

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

"so you're telling me, you kissed this girl so you won't get snitched out, and now she's in love with you and stalking you around the city?" haechan says to him, his ass sitting on the poor and abused sofa with his feet propped up against a wooden table as he pulls out the contents of the old lady's purse one-by-one.

they're currently at their secret hideout, haechan's basement.

"yeah, I clearly didn't know what to do next, it was so stupid of me. fuck!" mark says back, pacing back and forth on front of haechan, his hands on his hair.

"well, that's good because you will now be able to get closer to her and her family. they will let you in their mansion, and if you got in, you can steal everything you want and just leave immediately like you were never there" haechan reasons, suddenly pulling out an inhaler from the purse, then throwing it aside.

"what? no way, i would never do that!" mark replies to him, stopping to look at haechan's face in a disgusted way.

"geez, it's just an idea" haechan said, putting his hands up to tell mark to calm down and let it go.

"well, whatever, she's your problem anyway and not mine..." haechan chuckled as he pulled out a bundled cash from the purse counting it immediately, ignoring mark.

mark sighed and plopped down beside haechan, watching him count the money.

"yo, you have to give me a share of tha-" mark says as he feels up his now empty pocket.

wait, huh?

mark quickly checked his pockets to make sure he's not crazy, but he's really not and his wallet totally gone!

it only has $16 in it, plus his old school ID and his family picture that he cherishes.

where could he even dropped or misplaced that.

better yet, who even stole it?

"yo dude, did you take my wallet?" mark nudged haechan's shoulder to ask him.

"i would never steal your empty and ugly-ass looking wallet" haechan stated to him, still looking at the huge money he's holding in his hands, counting it over and over again.

"i'm serious dude!"

"i really didn't!"

if it's not haechan, then...

oh no.

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

after mark left you alone again in the city, you were not really disappointed with it.

you were on your bed, kicking your feet up in the air as you look at mark's old school ID and family photo.

oh he looks so damn cute.

you really didn't think mark wouldn't feel you taking his wallet while hugging him.

you laughed at the thought, guess he wasn't the only one with robber skills after all.

'i hope he tries to get his wallet back from me'

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annwrites · 22 days

Text

—kiss me

& your heart's against my chest, your lips pressed to my neck. i'm falling for your eyes, but they don't know me yet. — gwayne hightower x niece!reader ; ✧ ˚ ·𓆸

“Please, mother, may I go?” You ask excitedly, practically bouncing on the balls of your feet with elation.

Meanwhile, your mother merely stares down at the invitation in her hand, carefully considering.

The corner of her mouth tugs down into a frown and you begin to deflate.

Her eyes meets yours and she gives you a forced smile. “It is all the way at Highgarden, my love. You would need a royal escort, a chaperone, not to mention—”

“I don’t…”

You pause. “I understand I will need protection. But it is for one night. One evening where I may be someone else for just a few hours. Not the princess that others are expected to prostrate themselves before, not a Targaryen, not royalty. Just…whomever I choose to be. I hardly ever ask you for anything—have been the least troublesome of my siblings, besides Helaena. Please, mother, please,” you beg, taking her hands in yours.

“But you are a princess, sweetling,” she states, cupping your cheek. “And should be treated as such. Protection will be required. You know this. It concerns me how desperately you wish to play pretend for an evening. What you might…have in mind.”

You take a small step back.

“Have I ever disappointed you? Stepped out of line? Done anything untoward, or sullied myself in any shape or form in my entire life? I’ve been nothing but a perfect, shining example of what a highborn lady—a princess—should be. I hold even myself to an impossibly high standard, because I know I must, lest I let everyone down. Lest I be chastised for there being a…a crack in my porcelain.

“Please just… Guards may accompany me. But the night of the masquerade, I would prefer to be…my own company. Elsewise, everyone will know who I am, and crowds will flock to me all evening. If I wanted for that, I may as well remain here instead.”

You take the letter from her, clutching it to your chest.

“Please, mother. Soon enough, I will be wed to someone of your and father’s choosing—some stranger whom I may not even love,” tears sting your eyes at the words. “And this chance for one night of joy and celebration forever stolen from me.”

She chews the inside of her cheek. “Perhaps Aemond should accompany—”

You groan, throwing your head back. “So he may complain during the entire journey, as well as all night about how he’d rather be here riding Vhagar, or practicing with a sword in the yard, or getting up to Gods know what else. And he’ll be attached to my side all night, acting the protective elder brother, driving me insane. If he comes with me, so help me, I’ll take his other eye.”

She draws in a sharp gasp. “Young lady!”

You shrink into yourself, your cheeks warming.

“Forgive me,” you mutter.

“It’s not as if he’s never threatened to feed me to Vhagar,” you mumble.

She rolls her eyes, padding across the room. “A jest, obviously. Not that I am excusing such behavior.”

She turns back to you. “You know he is very protective over you. Aemond would never lay a hand upon you.”

You cross your arms. “I’m done talking about Aemond.”

You know she’s trying to change the subject, even if the mention of him is clearly connected to the matter at-hand.

Finally, she sighs, seating herself upon a lounge near the balcony. “I will need speak with your father about this.”

You shift on your feet.

“Will he…understand what it is which you’re asking?” You say quietly.

She pats the cushion beside her, so you seat yourself.

“I’ll go to him first thing in the morn when his mind is most clear and we shall discuss it. But, once I give you our answer—the King’s answer—you must accept it, even if it is not that which you wish to hear.”

You think for a moment.

“What if the two of you agree, and I go, and he…” Your chin wobbles. “He slips away while…”

She softly clicks her tongue, pulling you into her arms, cradling the back of your head while she gently rocks you to and fro. “Let us not think of such things, my sweet girl.”

She pulls away, tucking a silver lock of hair behind your ear. “But if he did…”

She sniffles. “His suffering would be at an end. We would have that to comfort us, my darling. That he would finally have peaceful rest at last.”

You nod, rubbing your fingertips nervously into the palm of your hand. “If I am allowed to go, I will sit with him before. Talk to him.”

Say goodbye, just incase….

She nods with a solemn smile, pressing a warm kiss to your forehead.

Not only have you been given permission from your father, the King himself, but your mother has written to your uncle in Oldtown, asking if he would kindly host you once the celebrations at Highgarden are at an end.

She wishes for you to see the place of her birth, and you also wish to see your brother, and to meet your uncle for the first time in all your life.

He had agreed in kind, promising he shall meet you at the site itself, as he has been invited as well to the ball.

You cannot recall a time where you've felt more pleased or excited than you do now with all you have to look forward to.

You fill with relief when the gossip you’d heard in the gardens proves to be true: more than one head wears silver hair tonight—somehow allowing your own head of such hair to be a disguise for once, instead of a beacon like that atop the Hightower.

You stand off to the side—for once all on your own, and it makes you feel, for the first time in your entire life, like a woman grown.

You sip idly from a crystal glass of champagne, a small smile playing on your lips at the grand ballroom which lies before you.

Sparkling chandeliers lit by countless candles hangs from a high, painted ceiling. The marble floor has been polished so well you can practically see your own reflection upon it. Bouquets of roses and tulips and lilac and more fill large pots, and painted ivy climbs up large pillars throughout the room.

High tables hold flowing towers of more champagne, and silver trays advertise decadent treats of cake and pastel-colored macaroons, small sandwiches and tiny sausages, fresh fruits and vegetables, among a selection of other finger-foods.

Lovely music plays from a group of musicians at the head of the hall: a harp, violins, flutes, trumpets, drums… And women in glittering gowns with ornate masks spin round and round as men in well-tailored suits hold them close in their arms.

It’s true: this place—Highgarden—is something out of a fairytale.

Oh, how you never wish to leave.

“I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure.”

You turn with pleased surprise that someone is finally speaking to you—and he is quite handsome, even with a mask, which resembles a golden fox—tied to his face. Tall and lean, with reddish-golden strands and emerald-green eyes, a smirk upon his feline lips.

He comes closer, taking your free hand in his, and he leans down, pressing a firm kiss to the back of it.

“My Lady,” he greets lowly.

You curtsy, blushing. “My Lord.”

He takes a small step closer, gazing into your eyes. “Not the first Targaryen, or Valyrian princess—or, mayhaps, lady—I’ve had the pleasure of encountering this evening, but you are the first to have violet eyes. How did you accomplish that facet of your costume?”

Your lip twitches. “I shall never tell.”

He raises a brow in interest. “I’m most adept at acquiring secrets from comely young maidens. I’ve yet to meet one which is a match for my silver tongue.”

You take another sip of your champagne, staring at him all the while in interest.

He shrugs slightly. “There are…other ways of confirming, of course.”

“Confirming?” You question.

“Mm, if you are who you claim to be. If the hair on your head is merely an illusion, or if you are truly a daughter of the King.”

You blink at him in ignorance. “How would you do that?”

He smirks, sipping from his own glass. “Mayhaps you will allow me to show you later tonight.”

He glances outside, through open stained-glass doors, toward the large, expansive gardens just down the steps that lead out from the castle.

“In the hedge maze?” He suggests, meeting your lovely eyes once more.

You shift nervously on your feet, which he takes note of, knowing he needs treat his prey more gently if he is to win this hunt.

“I…do not know. It’s very large, and I would fear getting lost within.”

He gives you a charming wink. “Lucky for you that I have an excellent sense of direction.”

You force a smile, turning back to the dancing courtiers before you.

He remains silent for a moment, merely admiring you: your curled silver hair done in an intricate style—pearl and jewel pins littered throughout, along with tiny flowers—your lovely pink gown, which flows from your body like water, your bare, slender shoulders, even the finely-designed mask you don—simple, yet beautiful, with its opalescent colors. And round your neck hangs a long pearl necklace that rests atop your soft breasts, your dainty fingers which grip your glass house a few silver rings upon them.

He can only imagine how comely those most intimate parts of you that’re currently hidden from him are in comparison to the rest of you.

He intends to discover such hidden treasures for himself before this night is through and the morning sun rises high above the clouds.

As a servant with a silver tray balanced upon their palm goes to pass, he rests his glass upon it—being so bold as to take yours as well—before offering you his hand.

“Would you care to dance? I’ve a difficult time believing you decided to attend merely to spectate. And to let a jewel as rare as you stand to the side as a wallflower all night would be a waste indeed.”

You’ve already deigned that he is most certainly a flirt in every essence of the sense, but you know that you are in control of yourself.

That nothing occurs tonight without your say-so. So long as you go nowhere alone with him, all’s well that ends well.

Now that it is dark, you do not intend to leave the castle’s confines anyway, so you take his hand.

“I would like that very much.”

He smiles, flashing a set of brilliant white teeth, sweeping you onto the dance floor.

You quickly rest a hand upon his strong shoulder, while he continues to hold your other, sliding his opposite to rest in the middle of your back, and the two of you step this way and that, spinning round and round, and you smile all the while with your heart fluttering in your chest.

Yes, you for once feel just like a princess from the stories. And he, a handsome young lord or knight or prince, come to save you from your sorrows.

“So,” he says. “It is up to us to be whomever we wish to be tonight. To make our story as we want it. Tell me, my lovely lady, who are you?”

You smile contentedly.

“I…” You pause for a moment, thinking. “Am, in truth, a swan."

He raises a brow in interest, chuckling. "Are you?"

You nod. "Indeed, I am. I come from a faraway land, a deep blue pond the color of rare sapphires my home. And, for one night every year, I am given the gift of having a human form bestowed upon me to do with as I wish."

He thinks on what you've said for a moment.

"It seems to me we should make the absolute most of this evening we share, then, should we not? Before you are stolen away from me come the morn."

You lip twitches, deciding not to reply to that. "And who are you, my handsome suitor?"

"I, myself, am merely a lowly huntsman. But naught would know, what with my fine attire and mask which hides my true face."

He pulls you closer to him. "I believe I have for myself a most comely and graceful bird, however."

He lowers his lips to your ear. "And I do not intend to part with my quarry until she disappears into a fit of white feathers, leaving me heartbroken and yearning once more."

You grin, shaking your head in amusement. "Do most ladies usually fall for such an act?"

He shrugs, glancing around the room. "I've yet to hear a complaint in regards to my...chivalrous nature. I do so love to tend to damsels in distress."

You stare up into his jewel-hued eyes, while he begins to slide his hand lower, and lower...and then the song comes to an end, with a room full of people clapping in appreciation.

You break from him, taking a step back, and he bows to you.

You renege on your resolve to remain indoors for the rest of the evening then, deigning that you need air. This room is far too cramped—too hot, and too busy.

You go to walk past the unnamed gentleman before you, until he lightly grasps your fingertips.

"Shall I escort you outside, my swan maiden?"

You hesitate for a moment. "Can...can I trust you?"

He takes a step closer, resting a palm against your upper-arm, growing quite serious. "I would never harm a woman. Nothing occurs between us tonight that you do not wish. I give you my word. I want only those who want me in return."

You fill with relief then, and you nod.

The two of you are silent as you walk through grand gardens, your arm draped over his, occasionally passing giggling girls, or pairs of lords and ladies too enamored with each other to notice either of you.

He glances ahead, toward the seemingly endless expanse of greenery that lies before you. "Shall we?"

You waver. "I've never gone through one before."

"There's a trick to it. You needn't worry: once you're ready to leave, I'll guide you out."

You consider.

You know you most likely shouldn't. That you should turn around and go back inside instead.

But with masks on—with the two of you having no bloody idea who the other is—what would it truly matter if something more is...shared in private corners with only marble statues to bear witness?

You take a small step forward, he following along beside you.

You know you've reached the middle when a large bubbling fountain comes into view—polished wooden benches on either side, and statues of cherubs and women draped in gossamer in each corner.

You break from him, kicking your shoes off your aching feet, and you pick up your skirts as you climb up the stone ledge of the fountain before stepping into the cool water.

Meanwhile, your escort for the evening watches with a wide smile. "Well, you are certainly not a Targaryen princess. That much has been confirmed."

Your lip twitches while you gaze into the distance with a knowing look.

"I told you: I am a swan. We are naturally drawn to water, after all."

He nods. "Ah, yes, how foolish of me."

He cocks his head to the side, and you sway from side to side in interest.

"Have you ever considered allowing those perfect feathers to be ruffled, my little swan maiden?"

You look him over briefly before stepping out, dropping your skirts, and merrily hopping down.

And for the first time in all your life, you throw propriety and decorum to the wind.

"Kiss me."

He smirks, most pleasantly surprised. "Are you sure?"

You take a step closer, fisting his doublet in your hand.

"Kiss me," you repeat.

He leans down, cradling the back of your head while his other hand cups your cheek, and he presses his lips to yours.

And your heart explodes like fireworks in the air.

A kiss. Your first kiss. And on your own terms—by your own deciding.

And as his soft lips move gently against your own, you determine that it is perfect, and everything you've ever dreamt it should be.

He flicks his tongue against yours and you still.

And he pulls back, but only slightly.

"It's alright. You may as well, if you like," he says, encouraging you gently, before giving himself to you once more.

And so you do.

Your tongue dances with his, just as your body had in that marvelous hall, your desire deepening in your core as he kisses past your lips, down your chin, to your neck.

Your eyes flutter closed and you sigh quietly as he slides his hands up your back, holding you impossibly close.

He presses his lips firmly up a hot trail all the way to your ear. "Would you like for me to go further?"

Slowly, your eyes open. "How?"

He smirks slightly. "There are other lips I might pleasure on your body."

You jerky slightly. "I don't—"

He gazes down, into your eyes, the moon casting his red-gold curls in a silver glow. "It is just the two of us. I wish for tonight to be all you want it to."

He kisses you again. "Let me touch you. I beg of you."

He kisses your neck again, mumbling against it, "Let me please you. End my agony, My Lady."

You remain silent—for a long while—he continuing to kiss and tease with delicate flicks of his tongue against your hot, flushed skin.

You shouldn't, but Gods how you want to.

"What if...someone happens upon us—sees?"

He looks at you once more, brushing his thumb against your cheek. "Then they are welcome to spectate."

You frown at him.

"I've excellent hearing," he assures you. "No one will catch us. And if they do, it is not as if any would have an idea of who either of us are. Most importantly you."

Your heart pounds between your breasts while another pulse, which began long ago between your legs due to his experienced lips and hands and words, grows in fervor.

You know your mother would be most disappointed—heartbroken—but all your life you've let yourself be locked in a pretty gilded cage because others have willed it so.

Tonight, you spread your wings.

"Yes."

He sits upon the ledge of the fountain while you sit in his lap with your skirts bunched up around your waist.

He'd refused to look between your legs—telling you that he refuses to 'spoil the surprise' for himself, and it was only then that you finally understood his earlier comment about discovering your true identity in other ways.

You keep one arm wrapped around his neck while you cup his cheek in your other hand—his free arm holding your waist as the two of you kiss passionately while his fingers tease the sensitive pearl between your thighs.

You jerk and whimper and sigh contentedly while his tongue explores your mouth—his fingers exploring elsewhere—as you hum in contentment.

"Gods," you whisper. "Is it always like this?"

"What might that be, sweetling?" He asks between breaths—for his heart does pound as his cock strains against his trousers.

"So...wonderful. Warm and passionate and—oh, Gods."

You ease your head back, biting your lower lip, holding desperately to him.

He circles and circles that bundle of nerves with slick digits, desperate to see you come undone in his arms.

"Only if the man is a very good lover," he answers with a grin that you do not see.

"My body feels as if every inch of me is on fire."

"Perhaps," he grunts—his fingers slipping between your hot folds. "You should cool yourself by unlacing your bodice."

Your eyes meet his—your lips swollen and red and your face flushed as you reach behind you without second thought—tugging with desperation against the strings which bind you.

And then you pull down the top of your dress, exposing your perfect, round breasts to him, and he dives forward, taking a pert nipple into his mouth.

Your jaw falls slightly open at the feeling—at the overwhelming sensation of all of it. Of him.

You feel your body tightening, your thighs attempting to close as you grow ever-closer.

"I'm nearly—"

He kisses between your breasts before crushing his lips to yours. "There you are, darling, show yourself to me. Allow me to see it. Let me watch you."

You press your forehead to his, cupping the back of his head, tangling your fingers in his hair as you squeeze your eyes shut.

You lift your hips, desperate to find your peak.

"Yes, Gods, please—"

He strums ever-faster, like a musician playing the most delectable of tunes upon his lute, and then you shatter.

You whimper and moan and cry softly as you press numerous open-mouthed kisses to his lips, his hand sliding up and into your hair while he chuckles in satisfaction.

"Gods, you are magnificent, aren't you? An astounding spectacle to behold, My Lady."

Eventually, his hand begins to slow, as do your hearts and breaths as the pair of you calm.

Once he has aided you in situating your gown once more, you rub your palm against your opposing arm nervously. "I should...perhaps say thank you?"

He chuckles, shaking his head. "The pleasure was all mine, my Lady Swan."

He steps closer, nodding slightly, shrugging as he settles his arms behind his back. "But, if you wish to repay me, we could come to an agreement."

"Agreement?" You ask with uncertainty.

He cups your cheek. "Come the stroke of midnight, we reveal our true identities to one another."

He presses his lips to yours once more. "I must know who you are. Who it is which I've held in my arms all night. Who it is that I've had the pleasure of pleasing by mine own hand."

You chew your lip nervously. "How...how do I know that by morn all will not know? If anyone discovered—"

He lowers himself onto one knee then and your eyes grow wide. "What're you—"

He takes your hand into his. "I make you this solemn vow, My Lady: I will guard the secret which is your identity with all that I am. That this night—our brief love story—shall follow me to my grave. None shall know, I assure you. You've my word. And my word is my bond."

He is absolutely ridiculous, but you smile nevertheless. "You may be in for quite the surprise when I remove my mask."

He rises again, pressing a kiss to your cheek. "I assume I most certainly will when my lady turns into a swan and flies away home, leaving me adrift."

You snort, shaking your head, soft curls falling over your shoulder. "Are you always like this?"

He smirks. "Only if I can help it."

The two of you listen as the bell tower tolls loudly for all to hear—signaling the end of the most perfect day you've ever had the pleasure of experiencing, and the beginning of a new.

He reaches up, clasping a hand over the front of his mask, reaching around to the back of it.

"Stop."

He stills.

You come toward him, taking his hands within your own, lacing your fingers together. "Before...before we reveal ourselves, I need you to know what this night has meant to me."

You run your fingers gently through his hair before taking his hand within your own again. "My entire life I've strived to be perfect in every way I possibly can. Because I have to be—I've no other choice. Until tonight. Until meeting you, and allowing myself to, for once, be impulsive. Mayhaps even a tad reckless. And I've never felt happier. More...myself. So, one day, when I am wed to a stranger and shipped off to an even stranger land among strange people, I will have this night to hold onto."

You stand on tiptoes, pressing a kiss to his lips.

"I have you to thank for that. So...thank you," you whisper.

He threads his fingers in your hair. "You're most welcome."

"One," he says.

"Two," you continue.

"Three," you each whisper in unison.

He is as handsome as you'd expected him to be—his skin unblemished—small red freckles littered across his fair complexion that is complete with high cheekbones and well-groomed brows.

He crosses his arms, his lip twitching as he nods to you. "Now the wig."

You laugh nervously.

He takes a step forward. "Is it terribly difficult to remove? I would not be surprised, it's excellently made."

You giggle. "It's real, I'm afraid."

You reach up then, tugging against silver strands, before settling your clasped hands against your stomach once again.

His smile immediately fades, the light going from his eyes—all indication of his mischievous nature fleeing him in an instant.

"You—You mean to say—" He swallows thickly. "You are a daughter of the King? One of the Targaryen princesses?"

You nod slowly, coming toward him.

"Oh Gods, what the fuck have I done?"

You shake your head, your eyes growing wide as you quickly take one of his hands again. "It's alright, shh, it's alright, look at me."

You cup his cheek, turning his gaze back to you. "No one will know about tonight—what occurred between us. You needn't worry for your safety; your wellbeing. Just as we agreed: this remains solely between you and I. I would never betray your confidence. Not after what you've given me—how much it means to me in my heart of hearts."

His expression morphs into incredulity.

"You've no fucking idea what we've done!" He shouts, causing you to flinch in fear.

He rips his hand from your grip, stepping away, running his hands down his face.

He doubles over, planting his hands atop his knees as he draws in shallow breaths.

"I don't...I don't understand," you say quietly, tears stinging your eyes.

You take a small step closer. "Please, don't ruin this. I beg of you. Please."

Finally, he stands, wrapping an arm around himself while resting his opposite elbow atop it, cradling his chin in his hand as he stares at you, as if he is contemplating some impossibly important matter within his mind.

And then his arms flail out from his sides, palms slapping against his trousers.

"Well," he says, gesturing to you. "Since I now know your true identity, I suppose it is time I reveal mine own."

You remain silent as he takes a step closer, and then another and another, until only an arm's-width worth of space remains between the pair of you.

"My name is Gwayne."

Your body twitches.

It can't be...

"Hightower," he finishes. "Your uncle."

Your eyes grow impossibly wide as you stare at him, your face growing as red as a freshly-plucked cherry, your body that had felt alight, as if from dragonfire, just a handful of moments ago growing cold.

And then you bury your face in your hands groaning in irritation.

"Pleasure to meet you, niece," he says, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Your lower your hands, tears shimmering in your eyes. "I don't care."

He raises a brow, hands planted firmly upon his hips. "I beg your pardon?" He asks with furrowed brows.

"I care not if you are my uncle," you proclaim. "It makes no difference. Not to me."

He lets out a silent curse, shaking his head.

"Of course you wouldn't. Being," he waves his hand along the length of your body. "What you are—a Targaryen. But things are not...done this way among those like I. Even if..."

He rolls his eyes, searching for the right words.

"I dishonored you. Do you've any idea what we just did?"

"Nothing I did not desire," you reply, holding your chin high.

"Nothing you did not..." he says quietly, trailing off. "Your mother will have my fucking head for this."

"Apologies," he quickly mutters. "Such words are not fit for your ears."

You cross your arms in irritation. "Well, I don't intend on telling her, and I seriously doubt you do either unless you wish to meet the executioner's block."

He seats himself upon the edge of the fountain again.

"I'm...I'm glad it was with you."

He gives you a look of disbelief.

"I am," you state, stepping closer, then seating yourself beside him. "I would rather my first intimate experience have been with mine own uncle—my blood—than some stranger who...who I cannot truly trust. But you, I do."

You cup his cheek, but he bats your hand away, so you then rest it upon his knee, rubbing your thumb soothingly against it.

"I do not regret it. I wish you would not either."

"You are my niece," he reiterates, as if you cannot possibly understand that yourself. "A royal princess, the King's—"

You stand. "I know very well what I am! I need not for you to remind me, as everyone else, including your sister—my mother—has most-assuredly done as such repeatedly since the day I was born! I have a mind of my own, you know?"

He looks up to you then.

"I am capable of thinking for myself. Of...of wanting what I want. I am not some empty-headed doll, despite what everyone else around me clearly thinks when they look at me."

His eyes trail along your body, your gown, before he bobs his head to the side, indicating you should seat yourself again.

And so you do.

"I am meant to take you back to Oldtown with me. To spend weeks at your side. How...how can we be expected to keep one another's company with this hanging between us now?"

You shrug, lightly swinging your feet. "We just do, I suppose."

He hangs his head between his shoulders, his hands clasped between his spread knees.

"My own niece," he mutters quietly.

You stare at the back of his head.

"At least my uncle is a very good lover," you remark, causing his head to shoot up, and you quickly blush.

He shakes his head. "Gods, what have I gotten myself into?"

He plants a palm atop his thigh, leaning back as he stares into your violet eyes. "Was that truly your first experience, or—"

"Do you take me for some trollop?" You exclaim.

He falters. "Forgive me."

"Yes, you were my first. My first kiss, my first...what you did between my legs."

He sighs. "If I had been anyone else—the wrong man—do you've any idea what could've happened to you? Blackmail, for instance. Some power-hungry fourth-born son would not hesitate to threaten ruining your reputation until you gave him...more."

You stare ahead at a marble statue which silently judges you from afar. "Well, that's not what happened here. So I needn't worry."

"Fortunate for you," he grumbles.

Finally, he stands with a sigh, offering you his hand. "Come, I'll escort you back to your chambers. Come the morn, we depart for Oldtown. We each need our rest."

You blink at him for a moment, then resign yourself.

You slide your palm against his and he helps you down before taking your hand and wrapping your arm around his own.

"I think I would've preferred you be a swan now," he says, the corner of his feline lips twitching in jest.

He glances to you.

"I suppose my huntsman nevertheless caught his prey."

He grins. "What a prize it is."

You rest your cheek against the crown of his shoulder.

Your uncle’s retinue makes a midday stop near a riverbank to break for lunch and water the horses.

You take for yourself a bit of meat and fruit to feast upon, and settle yourself back against a large oak tree as you enjoy the day—colorful birds flitting through the air and singing to one another while small fish jump, breaking the surface of the water before plopping back in.

Once you’ve filled yourself, you remove your shoes, gather your skirts, and decide to wade for awhile.

And it is in such a state that Gwayne finds you as he seats himself upon a small boulder, watching you with a smirk playing upon his lips.

“I see this is repeat behavior,” he calls to you.

You whirl around, silver curls falling over your shoulders as you fight back a smile.

You step up, onto the bank. “You could always join me?”

He chuckles, shaking his head, looking at you from under his lashes. “I would say not, considering what sort of…position that placed the pair of us in last time.”

You shift your weight from one foot to the other. “I thought you said we were not to speak of it?”

A muscle in his jaw feathers. “So I did. Forgive me.”

He retrieves your shoes then, holding them up with a raised brow.

And then you shake your head, a mischievous grin spreading across your lips as you enter the water once again…and splash him.

He stands. “Young lady!”

You giggle. “You sound just like mother. Gods, the two of you are just alike!”

He rests his hands upon his hips with a raised brow. “I resent that insinuation. I am the fun one.”

You splash him again. “Are you?”

He shakes his head, then doubles over, tugging off his boots, rolling up his pant legs, and he promptly marches himself into the river.

You do not get to splash him a third time as he throws you over his shoulder, carrying you out.

“Ah! Let me down!” You say between all-consuming laughter.

“Certainly,” he says, seating you upon the very rock he’d previously occupied.

You frown at him.

“I’ll simply get back in,” you say, attempting to stand.

“Oh, no, you don’t,” he replies, gripping your hips, holding you in-place.

You stare at him, your cheeks warming.

He kneels then, tugging his tunic from his trousers.

Your brows furrow, but for only a moment as he begins wiping your feet dry with the hem of it, staring into your eyes all the while before slipping your shoes back onto your feet with a wink.

The carriage stops and the door swiftly opens as your uncle climbs inside, attempting to escape the sudden downpour.

He slams the door behind him, slamming his fist against the roof, and the wooden wheels begin to roll once more.

You smile warmly at him before gazing back out the window, enjoying the smell of rain upon damp earth.

Until you are unsettled by the feeling of a pair of eyes consistently resting upon you.

You turn back to Gwayne with a nervous smile. “What?”

He merely shrugs. “Nothing. May I not look upon beautiful things?”

A grin crawls across your lips and you lightly shake your head.

“You’re blushing.”

You clear your throat, adjusting your skirt. “It’s very warm in here.”

He hums in response. “Is it? Hm, I thought it was a bit cold. I’d considered that, perhaps, I might keep you warm. It would be a great travesty for my darling niece to catch cold while under my protection, would it not? And so early in her trip, at that.”

You grow quiet then, returning to staring out the window. “I feel perfectly well.”

Finally, he sighs, seating himself beside you.

“What’re—”

He interrupts. “How much longer do we need continue with this pretense?”

Your brows furrow. “I’m sorry?”

He turns more toward you, resting an arm behind you. “Ignoring this secret which lay between us.”

You scoff. “It just—it only just happened a few days ago. And you were the one who suggested we…we not speak of it. You suggested the pretense.”

“Yes, well, mayhaps I’ve now changed my mind.”

You throw your head back, groaning as you stare up at the roof. “What would you suggest, then? We write to all corners of the Seven Kingdoms and inform them of our dalliance?”

“Perhaps we just allow ourselves a bit of indulgence, just as we did that night.”

You roll your head to the side, staring at him. “Indulgence?”

He nods, his lip twitching. “Mm, so as to keep our mutual…frustrations at bay. We merely need come to an understanding, I suppose.”

You blink at him, your body growing warm all over at the way he looks at you. “What…do you have in mind?”

You cannot seriously be considering this.

He can’t.

Gods, what has gotten into you since that night at Highgarden? This isn’t like you. Or…mayhaps it is. Just a version of yourself you’ve never had a chance to become familiar with, due to always being forced to bury any form of behavior which is not ‘appropriate’ to court, thus all you know how to be is a pretty, singing bird. A comely talking doll.

He reaches up, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear, cupping your cheek. “Nothing more than…courtly romance. All very prim and proper, for your sake, of course—I know how precious your virtue is—just enough to titillate,” he says, leaning in with a grin, gently pressing his lips to your own.

You kiss him back for a moment—nearly losing yourself to the sensation before you pull back. “I believe you mean to corrupt me.”

He snorts, resting a hand over his heart, feigning at being offended. “Me? I am the very image of a perfect, chivalrous knight.”

You do not smile at the jest.

He sighs, growing serious, taking one of your hands within his own, brushing his thumb along your knuckles.

“I fancy you. I cannot…move past that evening. How we met. Who I initially thought you to be. I know you are my niece. I do. I just…instead choose to see you as a comely young woman who brings me joy. And I merely wish to return the favor and the feelings you stir within me.”

His eyes flit to yours. “Will you allow me that opportunity? So as to make your visit more enjoyable? For the both of us?”

You glance down to his hand. “What am I to you? Some toy for you to play with in your idle boredom between political dealings?”

He shakes his head, scooting impossibly closer to you, tipping your chin up with the tip of his forefinger. “No. You are my niece. My family. My blood.”

He pauses. “My princess. But also a woman who takes my breath away. Who, despite my absolute best efforts, I cannot manage to get out of my fucking head. All I do is want for you.”

He releases your hand, raising his own—palm facing toward you. “Tell me you do not feel the same in the least, and this conversation ends here. We will speak no further of it. You have my word.”

You remain silent, merely staring back at him with an uneasy expression.

He sighs. "You think me trying to take advantage of you."

"How else am I supposed to see this situation?"

"Did you not do the same to me the night we met? You wished for an evening to be someone else, and you utilized me to accomplish that end."

You shift uncomfortably, filling with guilt, until he caresses your cheek.

"I am not faulting you for it. I am merely saying… You are not the only one who is lonely."

You scoff sarcastically.

"I know." He slides his hand down your arm then.

"It is not as if I have any shortage of female suitors. But… They, like with your own, see me for what I am. Not whom. A man of a great house, son of the Hand of the King, brother to the queen, a gallant knight who has won many a joust, a future statesman. The list rows on.

"But when I am with you… For the first time in all my life, I am merely Gwayne. Mayhaps uncle as well, but that is it. A familial bond is far more meaningful to me than a title bestowed upon me in an attempt to garner glory and notoriety."

He presses a soft kiss to your cheek. "Do I not make you feel the same? Do I not make you forget what you are, while instead reminding you of who?"

Your eyes flit between each of his—guilt settling into the pit of your stomach.

Who is to say you are not instead the one to blame here? Your mother raised you devotedly in the light of the Seven. And you have shirked your Gods for what? Continued dishonourment of yourself and they?

You are going to burn the Seven Hells for this.

Your chin wobbles and then you break into a fit of sobs, covering your face with your hands. "I have disappointed the Maiden. I've betrayed the Gods!"

Gwayne sighs, softly shaking his head. Truly your mother's child, he now sees quite plainly.

He wraps his arms around you then, pulling you to his chest while he presses a kiss to your hair.

"I believe in the Gods and pray to them myself. But, let me ask you something: in all your life of confiding in them, have they ever granted you that which you most desire? That which will bring you joy, and save you from your solitude and woe? Or, have they, instead, remained silent pillars of stone?

"Who is to say that this—what we've found—each other, is not a gift from them? It is said they work in mysterious ways. Mayhaps this is their answer to your prayers and mine own: bringing the two of us together in such a manner."

after receiving an invitation from the lord & lady tyrell to attend a masquerade ball held at the grand castle of highgarden, you beg your mother to allow you to attend.

reluctantly, she agrees, as does your ailing father, only wishing—as ever—for you to be happy.

and the night is like something directly out of a fairytale. including the dashing young man who remains by your side all evening, bestowing upon you his flirtatious attentions.

come midnight, the two of you find yourselves at the heart of the estate's hedge maze after having just shared an incredibly intimate moment together. & then you each remove your masks, revealing your true selves.

only to discover that some secrets...are best kept hidden instead.

headcanons:

gwayne comes to love & adore & worship reader with everything he is & has.

spoils her rotten while she is in oldtown.

#annsideas #gwayne hightower x reader #gwayne hightower x you #gwayne hightower x y/n #gwayne hightower imagine #hotd x oc #hotd x reader #hotd imagine #hotd fanfiction #hotd fanfic #gwayne hightower fanfic

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