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#those of you who know me know this is big
theostrophywife · 2 days
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brother's bsf! mattheo who you've had a crush on for years.
but he's only ever seen you as theo's little sister (or so he says).
it doesn't matter that you and theo are only a year apart. your older brother is extremely protective of you and so are the rest of his friends — especially mattheo.
you grew up around the boys, which was a blessing and a curse in and of itself. on one hand, you grew super close to mattheo, but on the other hand, he's seen you through your awkward braces and pigtails phase.
lately though, brother's bsf! mattheo starts to notice you. really notice you.
suddenly, you didn't seem so little to him anymore.
but over the years, your infatuation with your brother's best friend calmed to attraction instead. you've come to accept that while mattheo would always be your first crush, that's all it would really ever amount to. a harmless little childhood crush.
thanks to theo, you hadn't gotten much of a chance to date when you were younger, but now that you were starting uni with the rest of the boys, you were determined to push those silly little feelings for mattheo away and start putting yourself out there.
granted, you had a lot to learn given your sheltered upbringing.
boys had taken a liking to you. why wouldn't they? you're pretty, you're smart, and you're the perfect combination of sweet and sassy, but you were also extremely naïve.
brother's bsf! mattheo had to protect you.
it was his responsibility.
theo trusted him to keep an eye on you. so he did.
・❥・ brother's bsf! mattheo glares at any boy that dares to look at you.
・❥・ brother's bsf! mattheo revs his motorcycle and comes in hot when he sees anyone talking to you, handing you the pink helmet he keeps on him at all times without a single word.
・❥・ brother's bsf! mattheo gives you rides to your dorm and takes you out for ice cream after a particularly hard exam.
it's clear that mattheo has a soft spot for you. no matter how vehemently he denies it.
until the night that everything changed.
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it was a chilly friday evening when you happily skipped out of your dorm building, eager to attend your first frat party.
the cute boy in your history class asked you to come with him and you immediately said yes despite not knowing what to expect. it seemed fun and exciting and a little bit dangerous.
as luck would have it, you ran into none other than mattheo on your way out. his sleek black motorcycle was parked on the curb, smoke wafting from his lips as he took a lazy drag of his cigarette. leaning against his bike, mattheo raised a brow as you strutted onto the sidewalk.
"where do you think you're going, nott?"
"to a party, matty."
"with who?"
"a friend."
mattheo narrows his eyes at you. "I know all your friends and they're busy tonight. so which friend is it?"
you sigh in frustration. "just a friend from class. god, you sound like theo right now."
"you're not going anywhere wearing that."
"what's wrong with my dress?"
you smoothed down the front of your red minidress self-consciously, shying away from mattheo's intense gaze. his chocolate brown eyes scanned your body, the heat of his stare dragging along your skin.
"for starters, that dress barely covers anything and knowing you, you'll be cold within the first few minutes."
"I'll be fine, mattheo. I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself."
mattheo crosses his arms, huffing at your statement. "so you told theo where you're headed off to tonight?"
you shrugged. "what my brother doesn't know won't hurt him."
"yes, but he might hurt anyone stupid enough to ogle you in that dress. as will I. maybe I should tell him what his baby sister is up to. better yet, maybe I should come with you to this party, hm?"
"no please," you pleaded. "I just want one night where I'm not being treated like a little kid. can you give me that, matty? please?"
you flashed your best puppy dog eyes at him, knowing that he couldn't possibly resist when you asked so nicely.
mattheo considers it for a moment before sighing in defeat. "fine, princess. but text me when you get there and call me when you're home. don't even think about turning your location off or else I'll send a brigade after you."
"yes sir."
"good girl."
before brother's bsf! mattheo could think better of it, you kiss his cheek and promise to call him later that night.
brother's bsf! mattheo watches you strut away in your tight little dress with a soft smile on his face, fully knowing that you had him wrapped around your finger.
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by the time you arrive at the party, it's in full swing. music is blaring, drinks are flowing, and the frat house is packed to the brim with people.
you send a quick text to mattheo to let him know you've arrived before spotting aiden.
clearly, your date was already a few drinks in. he greets you with a lingering hug before handing you a red cup. "cheers, y/n."
"cheers," you respond, clinking your cup against his and taking a generous swig. the liquor burns your throat and aiden chuckles as you try to hide your wincing.
still, it does the job.
you loosen up after a few sips. aiden introduces you to his friends and you smile politely, trying not to squirm out of his hold as he pulls you in by the waist.
it's fine, he's just keeping you close in such a packed crowd. he doesn't mean any harm by it.
at least that's what you told yourself.
until aiden tries to make a move on you in the middle of the dance floor. you already told him that you didn't want to dance, but he insisted.
you could smell the liquor on his breath as he grabbed your hips, moving them along to the rhythm of the song. you tried to put some distance between you, but aiden didn't seem deterred by it. in fact, his wandering hands slide down to your lower back until they're planted firmly on your ass. you attempted to pry them away, but he slurred "relax" into your ear before giving your ass a squeeze.
that was the tipping point for you.
with all your strength, you shoved aiden off while he cursed after you. the lights were blinding as you made your way through the crowd, fleeing to the bathroom.
you had brother's bsf! mattheo's number dialed before you even closed the door.
surprisingly, he picks up on the first ring.
"hi matty, are you — are you busy right now?"
"I'm with the boys. how'd the party go, princess?"
"um, I'm still here and I just really want to go home."
you hear shuffling on the other end. presumably mattheo finding somewhere more private to speak with you. "I thought your friend was your ride home?"
"well, aiden's drunk and he's been getting a little handsy the whole night so I don't really feel safe going home with him."
"what?" mattheo hisses. "you didn't tell me you were with a guy. I never would've let you go off alone with some random prick."
"please don't be mad, matty. I just wanted to have fun without worring about my brother hovering over my shoulder. don't tell theo, please. I'll — I'll figure it out. I'll find another ride."
"like hell you are! drop your location. the boys and I are coming."
"no, please. I don't want this to be a whole thing. if theo finds out, he'll never let me out of his sight again."
you could feel mattheo grappling with the situation. part of him wanted to tell his best mate, but all he truly cared about was getting to you as quickly as he could. after a few moments, he sighs. "fine, I won't tell your brother, but I'm still coming to get you. stay where you are, princess and don't hang up the phone. I'm on my way, okay?"
"you really don't have to —"
the argument dies in your throat when you hear the sound of mattheo's motorcycle starting up. he wasn't going to let you talk him out of this. mattheo was coming, whether you wanted him to or not.
"too late. be a good girl and stay on the line with me, sweetheart. I'm coming for you."
brother's bsf! mattheo pays no mind to the boys as they joke about him meeting up with a booty call.
the only thing that matters to him is getting to you.
brother's bsf! mattheo weaves through campus, revving and racing his motorcycle as fast as it can possibly go.
it's too noisy to talk while he rides, but he stays on the line anyways, listening through one earphone as you quietly hum to help calm yourself. mattheo smiles to himself. it's one of his favorite quirk of yours. half of the time, you don't even notice you're doing it. but he does. he notices everything about you.
mere minutes have passed since you first called him, but it feels like an eternity to mattheo when he finally pulls up to the decrepit frat house at the edge of campus.
mattheo parks his motorcycle on the curb, glaring at the prying eyes trained on him. it's not every day that the mattheo riddle, resident bad boy pulls up to a party looking like he's absolutely ready to kill someone with his bare hands.
he has half a mind to burst into the bloody house and pummel that stupid prick for daring to touch you, but the sight of you approaching stops him cold.
you look flustered and fearful, lower lip trembling as you spill out into the sidewalk. mattheo instantly sees red. he vows to make that motherfucker pay for this.
"where is he?"
"mattheo —"
"where. the. fuck. is. he?"
"probably somewhere inside drunk off his arse. I don't know and I don't care. can we please just go?"
despite his anger, you don't balk from him. in fact, you've got both hands pressed firmly against his chest to hold him back.
brother's bsf! mattheo grips your hips, your noses pressing together as he carefully inspects you. making sure you were alright is the only thing keeping him from committing violence.
"tell me where he is."
though mattheo's words are tinged with fury, his tone remains soft and sweet. his voice is nothing but a whisper because even at his angriest, mattheo would never raise his voice at you.
“give me a name, sweetheart. just give me his name."
"it's fine, matty. he's not worth the trouble."
“he left you alone, at a party where you don’t know anyone, got too drunk even though he knows he’s your ride home and got handsy with you even though you weren’t into it. give me one good reason why I shouldn’t fuck him up right now?”
“I can handle him later. can we please just go home? I'm tired and I just want to be in bed now.”
the cold air makes you shiver as you mentally curse yourself for picking such a skimpy outfit when hours ago you felt foolishly confident in your dress.
brother's bsf! mattheo softens when he sees you trembling. without a word, he takes off his jacket and drapes it over your shoulders. the scent of amber and cinnamon envelopes you all at once, lulling you into a calmer state.
"okay, princess. let me take you home."
once mattheo secures the baby pink helmet over your head, he tells you to hang on tight before taking off.
you hug his midsection, resting your chin on his shoulder as mattheo drives slow through the sprawling campus. the streets are empty, but he drags out the ride, wanting to spend as much time with you as possible.
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at the strike of midnight, the two of you finally reach your dorm.
although you insist that you're fine, brother's bsf! mattheo walks you all the way up to your door.
the fluorescent lights flicker overhead as you shift your weight form one foot to the other, suddenly feeling shy.
"thanks for picking me up, matty."
"of course, y/n. you know I'd do anything if you're the one asking."
you smile, trying your hardest to hide the blush on your cheeks. "I hope I didn't ruin your night."
mattheo shrugs. "not at all. before you called, I was watching berkshire stuff marshmallows down his throat while the boys cheered him on. trust me, you weren't interrupting anything important."
"still. I appreciate you coming to my rescue and not ratting me out to my brother."
mattheo smiles. "it's our little secret, princess."
the double meaning of the words causes tension between you and the pull that you've always felt towards mattheo feels stronger than ever, tugging you closer.
maybe tonight is the night that you finally feel brave enough to fall.
"goodnight, matty."
brother's bsf! mattheo watches as you get on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek like you always do. except this time, you lean in for a proper kiss.
as soon as mattheo's lips touch yours, you feel your entire body erupt like fireworks. it's everything you imagined it to be and more. his lips are soft against yours, supple and inviting. the kiss takes him by surprise, but once he realizes what's happening, he groans into your mouth, the sound of it filled with need.
dazed and confused, you look up as mattheo pulls away, his big brown eyes scanning your face. "we shouldn't do this, princess."
despite his words, mattheo's hand rests itself on your hip, his thumb brushing gentle circles against your exposed skin. you gulp as he stares at you, your lips brushing, your bodies gravitating towards each other no matter how hard you try to fight the pull.
"is it because of my brother?"
"no," mattheo growls. "we shouldn't do this because I don't know if I'll be able to stop once we start."
"I don't want you to stop, mattheo."
as soon as the words leave your lips, mattheo is kissing you again, and this time, he isn't holding back. you cling onto his shirt as he kisses you hard, the force of it hitting you all at once. his fingers dig into your hips as you bend at the waist, desperately kissing back.
his head is reeling and his heart is pounding. mattheo is drowning in your taste, your touch, your smell. you're every drug rolled into one; seductive and sinful. he's addicted and he can't get enough.
brother's bsf! mattheo doesn't want to pull away. he wants to stay here and live in this moment forever, but he knows that if he does, he'll end up taking everything.
foreheads pressed together, mattheo leans in for one last kiss. this one is sweet and gentle, enough to satiate him for the moment.
"sleep tight, princess. I'll see you in the morning."
"see you in the morning, matty."
brother's bsf! mattheo can't help but take one last look at you, a soft smile on his face when he sees your flushed cheeks and kiss bitten lips.
in that moment, he knows he's fucked. you're his best mate's little sister. he shouldn't have kissed you. he shouldn't feel this way for you. he should've stopped before it was too late, but you were both way past that now.
now that he's had you, he won't want anything else. it's you he'll always crave. it's you he'll always long for. and he doesn't give a fuck what it takes to get you.
brother's bsf! mattheo won't stop until you're his and his alone. *✧・゚:*
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In response to the Mile High Job post, I hate that Parker implies that poor flight attendant slept her way to a promotion/better shift. Her day is super weird but her cat is fine and her life is saved. That rumor, however, might stick and that didn't really feel like Leverage to me.
Agreed!
The thing with Leverage is that it's a show from the late 2000s; it feels contemporary, but actually it is a bit dated. And, like all shows, it had some problematic elements, which get a bit more Obviously Problematic as time goes by (I am just waiting for someone to write a lengthy call-out post in 5 years' time and for the Discourse to start.) For example, Tumblr loves to declare that Leverage has a "canon" throuple, but if anyone read that and then watched the show they would be profoundly disappointed - while it's a fantastic ship with a great many shippy instances, Elliot has a lot of onscreen No Homo moments, and frequently is shown sleeping with random women (I personally read him as aromantic). Similarly, there are two big relationships in that show: Nate/Sophie, and Parker/Hardison. And we all wax lyrical about the brilliance of Parker/Hardison and how healthy it is, and for good reason; but we gloss over how unbearably "I hate my wife/father I cannot click the book" Boomer humour Nate/Sophie is.
(He literally calls her a shrew in one episode. She throws a tantrum and sulks if he doesn't remember the exact details of how/where they met. She's stereotypically 'romantic' and he's stereotypically 'cynical' and she has to Save Him From Himself, and he self-deprecatingly says he should just know when to stop arguing because she's always right. Like... it is a grubby and uncomfortable dynamic; but, it's also aimed at a different segment of the audience that is older than me, and that's okay, actually. It just means I don't much care for the ship myself.)
Anyway, this is one other such instance. Clearly someone in the writers' room thought that was a funny joke, and not enough people disagreed, and so in it went. What's nice is that Sandi McCree, who plays the other flight attendant that stays on the plane, actually kind of saves that joke for me with her performance. When Parker first boards and declares that her co-worker is not coming in, McCree looks disgruntled at the sudden change to her staff list when she wasn't informed; she's annoyed at management. Then Parker makes the sleeping-with-pilots comment, and McCree looks disgusted and furious -
An expression she then pulls at Parker every time she sees her for the rest of the episode, even when Parker is technically not doing anything particularly weird. It's not necessarily intentional on McCree's part (Parker IS very weird in this episode, so it very much can be a response to that), but to me it means you can read it as "This woman is absolutely furious at the lateral sexism of this white girl because We Love And Support Each Other On This Plane." So, for me, between that and the aforementioned revelations of the day (the plane was brought down by the domestic terrorists of a Fortune 500 company, but saved by... a few unexplained Official People who snuck aboard??? And the other flight attendant was made to miss the plane after all under mysterious circumstances and was not promoted??? What???), I don't think Sandi McCree's character wouldn't put those pieces together.
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nastybuckybarnes · 16 hours
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Date Night
Pairing: dbf!Bucky X Reader
Summary: Bucky makes a big mistake.
Warnings: Angst, Language, yea sorry
Word Count: 1.7K
A/n: teehee whoops. im gonna have a ghost one coming out soon for you guys, and then maybe some more teddy bear picnic but we'll see
~*~
"Hey kid, wanna grab a beer and watch the game with your old man? Or are you too cool for that?"
You grin at your dad and slow your steps, glancing at the hockey game on TV.
"Where's Bucky? I thought he was your game night date? He finally realize hockey sucks?"
Your dad gives you an offended look then rolls his eyes playfully.
"Nah, he had to cancel last minute - he's got a hot date tonight."
He wiggles his eyebrows at you, unaware of the fact that those six words have flipped your night upside down and caused knots to form in your stomach.
You don't remember having plans with him tonight.
As casually as you can manage, you head into the kitchen, pulling out your phone and tapping a quick text over to the man in question.
'Not coming over tonight?'
It's read within the same minute, and then the telltale three dots pop up before his message spawns.
'Sorry baby, not feeling too hot.'
The knots in your gut are quickly crushed by the boulder that settles there, and you need to take a few careful breaths to stop yourself from crying in the middle of the kitchen.
~*~
"Everything okay, James?"
He huffs out a sigh and glances up from his phone, smiling weakly at the woman across from him.
"Listen, Dot... I can't tell you how grateful I am that you managed to make such a beautiful cake in such a short amount of time. And, while I'm flattered that you'd want to go out for dinner, I had you make that cake for a woman who means... quite a bit to me. I don't want to make things awkward but I do want you to know that I'm out with you tonight as a friend and nothing more."
The woman across from him blinks blankly a few times, then takes a sip of her martini, stands up, and leaves the table.
Bucky watches helplessly as she leaves the restaurant without another word, dropping his head back for a moment as he feels onlookers stare.
It takes a few minutes for the waitress to come back, but by the time she does, he's got a wad of cash ready for her and his keys in hand.
He all but runs out of the restaurant, a new lightness in his shoulders like a weight has been lifted from his chest.
Immediately, he grabs his phone and shoots a quick text off to your dad.
'Room for one more?'
It takes a few minutes for your dad to respond, which Bucky uses to put on his helmet and straddle his bike.
'Date not going well?'
Bucky chuckles softly.
'Something like that. I'll be there in five.'
He swipes out of the conversation with your dad and then clicks on the only pinned conversation on his phone.
'I'm feeling a bit better now, gonna pop by for a bit.'
With that, he locks his phone and brings his bike to life, eager to be in your presence again.
Your phone vibrates, pulling you from your pity party, and you frown at the text on it.
You turn your phone off and drop it face-down on the carpet, ignoring this text the way you've ignored the last three from him.
You can hear him downstairs chatting with your dad as if he's done nothing wrong. As if he wasn't out with another woman less than an hour ago.
Grinding your teeth together, you decide that enough is enough, and it's time for bed.
At the very moment you open your door to head to the bathroom to get ready for bed, Bucky decides to raise his fist to knock.
Your eyes meet his and, for a moment, you forget that you're mad. You forget everything.
And then he opens his stupid mouth.
"Hey, what's with you tonight?" He asks gently, reaching forward to grab your hand.
You yank away from him and take a step back, levelling him with a steely glare.
"How was your date?"
You watch as he deflates, as his face falls and his shoulders slump forward the tiniest bit.
"Sweetheart, it's not what you think, I swear."
"Oh Jesus Christ," you murmur, pushing past him and heading downstairs to watch the game with your dad. At least down here he can't talk to you.
He can't try to justify him willingly going on a date with another woman.
Well, not until the game's over, at least. And it seems like it's only a few minutes before your dad is yawning, turning the TV off and heading upstairs to go to bed himself.
This leaves you alone in the living room with Bucky, tension building with every silent second that passes between the two of you.
"Honey, I had to," he finally whispers, breaking the silence.
You whip your head around, mouth dropping open in disbelief.
"Excuse me?"
He holds his hands up, a desperate and pathetic attempt at pleading with you, begging you to hear him out.
"It was the only way for me to get your birthday cake. Dot is an old friend from high school and... she wanted a date as payment for the last-minute cake," he explains quietly.
You purse your lips, nodding as if it all makes sense now.
"Oh, I see! So, not only do you admit to forgetting my birthday, but you also agreed to go on a date with a woman who has had a thing for you since high school! Buck, that is so not okay on so many different levels!" You exclaim in a whisper.
The last thing you need is your dad overhearing any part of this conversation.
"I know. That's why I left. I told her I couldn't, that the cake was for someone important to me and that I was only having dinner with her as a friend."
You shake your head at him and rise to your feet, unable to stay still while he spews nothing but nonsense at you and expects you to forgive him.
"You shouldn't have even gotten me that cake if that's what she wanted as payment! You should've told her to stick it and then you literally could've gotten me a Starbucks cake pop. I don't need fancy cakes or expensive things, James, I thought you knew that." Your voice gradually loses its anger, disappointment and exhaustion taking its place.
"I know but... I wanted to do something special for you." He looks like a kicked puppy, and it takes a serious amount of self-control to hold on to your anger.
"My birthday was special. Even without the cake it still would've been special. Especially if I'd've known it would mean that you would be going on a date with another woman in order to get it."
"Sweetheart, I'm sorry," he pleads, reaching for you again only for you to shake your head and step away.
"No, Bucky. Sorry doesn't fix this. Can you imagine if the roles were reversed? What if I had to go on a date with a guy who's been wanting me for over a decade just for the perfect steak? And then, what if I lied to you about it and you found out from my dad that I was out on a 'hot date'? A date with someone that the general public would deem more appropriate for me to be with? Someone who would fit me better. How would that make you feel?"
He stands there silently for a moment, fists clenched tightly as he imagines everything you just said.
He imagines you laughing on a date with another man, a young man, a man far more appropriate for you to be with. He imagines sitting waiting for you, only to find out that you're out getting hit on by some young punk who wouldn't know how to please a woman like you. His imagination runs wild, to the point where he can almost feel steam billowing from his ears, but all he says is
"Shitty."
"Shitty?" You laugh, "Try worthless. Embarrassed. Humiliated. At least that's how I felt. And-and maybe I'm just reading too deep into this. Maybe this 'exclusivity' that I thought we had is one-sided."
"It's not," he interrupts quickly, taking a step forward only to pause when you step back again.
"Maybe I just thought things were more serious than they were," you continue, eyes stuck on the ground as your thoughts spill out before your mind has a moment to realize what you're saying.
"They are serious-"
"Maybe we should just stop... whatever this is that we're doing."
Silence hangs heavily in the air when you finish speaking, and you feel tears sting at your eyes when he says nothing.
You count thirteen heartbeats before he finally says something.
"Is that what you really want?" He asks softly, his voice discouraged.
Slowly, you raise your eyes to his.
"What even are we?" You ask breathlessly, a single tear sliding down your cheek. "What are we doing?"
"You're my girl."
You sniffle and shake your head.
"No, I'm your dirty little secret, that's what I am. And I'm tired of it. I wanna be something you're proud of, not something you have to hide," you whisper, your chest aching with the weight of your confession.
Bucky's heart breaks at your words, and he wants nothing more than to scoop you up in his arms and kiss away any insecurities you have in your relationship. If you can even call it that.
"I am proud of you, sweetheart, beyond proud. I can't even put into words how I feel about you," he whispers, desperate for you to understand just how much you mean to him.
"Why haven't you told my dad about us yet?"
The silence that follows your question is answer enough for you, and you nod.
"I... I think you should leave," you finally whisper, hugging yourself and keeping your gaze locked on the ground.
He stays rooted in place for a long moment, testing your resolve, waiting for you to break. When you don't, he takes slow steps toward the door, waiting, praying for you to change your mind.
But you stand firm.
Never able to deny you, he leaves you standing alone in your kitchen, your dad peacefully asleep upstairs while your entire life gets turned upside down.
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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 3 days
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The fight was ugly. The first fight that you and Eddie had turned from a quiet disagreement to a full blown yelling match.
Truthfully you couldn't remember what the fight was actually about. Something silly, something miniscule that turned into a big thing.
A big argument with some horrible things said; you still couldn't get Eddie's words out of your head.
"Why would this mean anything? It's just sex isn't it?" Eddie snapped and your heart broke into a million tiny pieces. Just sex. Right. Of course that's what you two were.
Truthfully you were a mess and you should have just gone straight back home after storming out of the trailer.
Eddie has tried to go after you but you were faster and ran before he could catch up with you.
Instead you bumped into a few of your friends and hitched a ride to some party that one of Jason Carver's friends were throwing. Robin noticed your tear streaked cheeks and gave your hand a reassuring squeeze.
She was the only one of your friends who knew about Eddie; maybe Steve as well as him and Robin were as thick as thieves. Like platonic soulmates or something.
You and Eddie got together two months ago, passing off the hook ups as just mind-blowing sex and that worked at first. That's until you begun to get to know Eddie better and the two of you spent more time together.
Eddie was easy to fall in love with. His reputation portrayed him as mean and scary, satan obsessed and someone people should stay away from.
He was none of those things, he was kind and fiercely loyal to his friends and uncle, he was passionate and badass and really it was no surprise that you fell in love with him.
At least now you know that he doesn't feel the same way, at least you found out now before it was too late and you were even more in love with him than you are now.
Maybe you could just hang with your friends and forget the words that had broken your heart tonight.
At least you hoped that was possible.
❤️
Fuck, you really should have went home. Your head was pounding, the two beers you had made you even more anxious and upset. To make matters worse Tyler Harvey wouldn't leave you alone, he had zeroed in on you from the second you had walked through the door.
As much as you tried to avoid him, he followed you around and it was beginning to give you the creeps.
He manages to corner you when you're trying to get up to the bathroom with Robin. He stinks of beer, smoke and sweat and it turns your stomach a little bit.
Leather, smoke and the hints of woods and musk were your favourite scents in the world right now and that had to do with the man you were trying not to think about.
You cringe away from Tyler but he's so drunk that he doesn't seem to notice, he moves closer to you and you instinctively step back.
"Can you move please? Robin and I need to go upstairs" you ask him but he doesn't appear to be listening.
"Aww why don't you come upstairs with me? I'll take care of you" Tyler smirks but you don't like the look in his eyes and immediately step away from him. Yeah...no thanks. Robin is at your side at once and glares at Tyler.
"Take the hint asshole. She's not interested" Robin gently guides you away but Tyler grabs your arm at the same time and you stumble, landing hard on the floor. It knocks the wind out of you and your body throbs from the contact with the floor.
Tyler scrapers from the scene without even checking to see if you're alright. Robin is cursing out Tyler and helps you up. You're sore, annoyed and just want to go home.
Steve appears out of nowhere and Robin mentions that she called Steve when you mentioned you were getting a migraine. Relief fills you, at least you could go to Steve's for a little while and try and salvage some of the night with him and Robin.
There's a tiny voice inside of you that is aching for Eddie and it's growing stronger. You dismiss the idea, you're sure that Eddie was glad to be rid of you. That thought caused a new throbbing ache in your chest and you hurried outside with Steve and Robin determined not to think about Eddie and his big brown eyes.
❤️
As soon as you're at Steve's he puts in a movie and you settle up on the couch with Robin while Steve makes snacks. Being here is soothing and you rest your head on Robin's
Steve's landline ringing breaks you out of your sleep, Steve hurries to answer it and your heart skips a beat when you realise it's Eddie.
"Yeah, yeah dude she's with me and Robin. Some shit went down at a party we were at... Oh that asshole friend of Jason was being a prick. Yeah Tyler is it? Woah calm down man, she's fine. She's just tired"
You get up which is a little tricky as the sudden movement makes your migraine feel ten times worse but you really want to speak to Eddie.
Steve passes the phone over to you and you smile a tiny bit as Eddie is still ranting about what he wants to do to Tyler.
"Eddie, I'm okay" you murmur and he stops his rant and breathes a sigh of relief.
"Sweetheart. Fuck, I've been so worried princess. I went to your house, then Family Video. I even dropped around Wheeler's house which was a shock for Mama Wheeler to see if you were there. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I was a butthead"
The ache in your chest subsides a little bit and you relax. "I'm sorry too. I'm really sorry" tears spill down your cheeks and it's cathartic to finally let them out.
"I'm going to come and pick you up Kay? I'm not going to relax until I see that you're okay. I'll see you in about ten minutes okay?"
The tension you're feeling begins to disappear and you wait for Eddie to arrive, thanking Robin and Steve for being so amazing tonight.
True to his word Eddie arrives as quickly as he says he would and gives Steve and Robin a quick nod in greeting, he immediately pulls you close to him.
His lips press against hair and he briefly talks to Steve before guiding you out the door and into his van.
You're so exhausted from the nights escapades that you're asleep instantly.
❤️
When you wake up you're in Eddie's bed, Eddie is laying beside you and reading Lord of the Rings - The Two Towers. When he realises you're awake he presses his lips to your forehead and he tucks the covers around you, cuddles up at your side and holds you close.
"I'm sorry I was such a dickhead. You have no idea how much you mean to me, you mean everything to me and I was so scared to tell you. So I lashed out and said stupid shit. Things I didn't mean"
There's something unspoken hanging in the air, a familiar tension that's been playing the two of you for a little while now.
"I thought that you were sick of me and that's why you said those things" you confess and play with a start thread on his plaid shirt.
Eddie's jaw drops and he's silent for a moment, "Princess how could you even think that? You're...shit, I've never felt this way about anyone and it's terrifying trying to think of the right words, wondering if you feel the same way" he pauses as he lets the words sink in.
He's blushing, restless and anxious as his eyes meet yours; You sit up and cup Eddie's cheek with your hand.
"How do you feel about me Eddie?" It feels pretty certain now but you'd like to make sure. You'd like to hear him say it.
"I'm in love with you princess. How can you not see that? I guess I was just scared to tell you because I'm not exactly the perfect guy am I?" He scoffs as he says this and you scowl at the way his eyes turn sad.
"I don't care about that Eddie. Who wants perfect? I don't. I think you're amazing and handsome, you're sweet and kind, a gentleman. You make my heart skip a beat when you look at me and I feel at ease and content when I'm with you" his fingers entwined with yours and he sighs.
"You know so many people think I'm a freak, normally I don't give a fuck but I do care what others think about you" you soften and press gentle kisses over his cheek, the action causes him to smile shyly and his tense body relaxes.
"Eddie I don't give a shit what anyone says or thinks. Are you going to give us up just because of some idiots who don't matter? The only people that matter in this relationship are you and me. I love you Eddie, I'm so in love with you"
He looks up at you stunned and then he kisses you fiercely, "No I'm not giving us up. I love you sweetheart so much. You're my girl and I'm not letting you go because of some dumb assholes opinion"
The two of you spend the rest of the night making up and when you're tucked up in Eddie's arms as he falls asleep, you're left with the gentle feeling of this being where you're meant to be.
This trailer, Eddie's room, his arms around you as his soft snores fill the air. The sound of the wind blowing against the windows as you're lulled to sleep.
This felt like home.
💕
I get to love you
It's the best thing that I'll ever do
I get to love you
It's a promise I'm making to you
Whatever may come, your heart I will choose
Forever I'm yours, forever I do
I get to love you, I get to love you.
I Get To Love You- Ruelle
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spermeboy · 3 days
Text
HIS GOOD SUBMISSIVE TOP.
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pairings: billy loomis x top!male reader
summary: Billy Loomis arrives at Stu's party after everyone has already left wanting to speak to the reader. They go upstairs and into a room for some privacy, where they begin talking, which leads to the reader losing his virginity.
requested by: anonymous.
warnings: SMUT, anal sex, feminization, swearing/slurs, oral sex (r!receiving), powerbottom!billy, submissivetop!reader.
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"Tatum!" I call out to my best friend, "Come on! The party's over." I shout louder, hoping that she can hear me from wherever she is. I stumble my way over Stu, who is standing in the doorway looking around suspiciously, "Stu, do you know where she is?" You ask him before almost jumping out of your skin as Billy pops out from the side of the door, giving Stu some suspicious look before gently placing his hands on your shoulder. "Baby... can we talk?" Billy stares at you with sad eyes wanting forgiveness."You know, I'd never kill anyone, right?" He says, asking you a question.
"I think we should speak in private," you say in a mellow tone as you take his hand and bring him upstairs to a private room, "don't be too loud!" Stu shouts up, causing Billy to smirk. You roll your eyes, and you feel Billy's hand tighten around yours once you're both upstairs, Stu watches from afar his eyes never leaving your ass as he watches you walk up those stairs, with each step your ass jiggles and ripples causing him to bite down on his lip "fuck.. Billy is so lucky, " he mumbles to himself as he shuts the front door and walks into the living room to see what's on tv. You make your way into Stu's bedroom for privacy. You sit down on the edge of his bed, Billy paces back and forth at the front of the bed before sitting down next to you on the bed, giving some distance between the both of you.
He stares at you slightly before looking away, "So...um." You mumble out trying to speak, but nothing comes to mind, "so.." Billy chokes out slightly before scoffing his frog out his throat. "I've been selfish... and I want to apologize, " he says before I cut him off, "no." I mutter out, "Billy I've the one who has been selfish and self-absorbed with all of this frigid bullshit, " I say with a small smirk and a chuckle. Billy's eyes widen hearing the apology and taking in the words that are coming out of your mouth. He watches your eyes flutter down to look away from him, Billy brings his hands to your face, bringing your face to his. "kiss me." You mumble out, feeling his lips smash against yours.
You feel his tongue slide over yours coating your taste buds in his sweat tasting spit. His tongue swirls against yours, stroking against yours as they swirl around eachother. His hands roam over your body as his tongue dominates your mouth, he unbuttons your jeans pulling them down slightly as pulls away from your mouth, breaking the kiss. Billy pulls the jeans off your body, revealing your bare legs to him. He begins to kiss along your inner thigh reaching your growing bulge "fuck... I wouldn't of expected you to be so big" he groans out to you as he pulls off your underwear letting your large meaty cock flop out and smack against your thigh.
"fuck baby boy... it's so big" he groans out as he slaps it against his face gently before opening his mouth and slapping your flaccid cock against his tongue feeling it harden against it. Billy wastes no time swirling his tongue around the tip, gently sliding his tongue under the cock head to taste all the pre-cum that leaks out of your cock. He gently begins to bob his head back and forth every time, taking more and more into his throat, causing your head to throw back, feeling your dick getting sucked for the first time. It felt like heaven. Billy maintains eye contact the whole time as your cock reaches the back of his throat, your whole cock coated in his saliva.
"mhm!" He groans out, feeling your cock pulsate in his throat before he pops his head back a string of spit connecting his mouth to your tip. Billy begins to strip off while you watch him like a submissive boy. He gently straddles your lap, and your hands naturally fall down onto his hips, squeezing his ass gently. "You want to fuck this pussy?" He whispers into your ear as he lines up your tip with his hole, gently sliding down it taking in half of your cock, purposely squeezing his tight pucker around it. "B-BILLY!" You shout out which causes Billy's hand to immediately shoot up your mouth covering it, "be a good boy and stay quiet. Just feel how tight my cunt is." He says with a huge smirk on his face as he watches you squirm under him.
Your hands grip onto Billy's bubble butt feeling them tense as he finally takes your cock to the base, "r-rock hard, aren't we Baby." He whispers into your ear, your face contorts and your body squirms as he slowly begins to rock his hips back and forth fucking himself with your cock. "s-such good pussy" you groan out not taking your eyes off of him as he bucks his hips up and down, "n-ngh" you bite your lip holding back from groaning your eyes flutter back as he speeds his bounces up and down.
Stu hears your whimpers and moans all the way downstairs, he closes his eyes and imagines you whimpering for him as you ride his cock. He palms himself through his trousers as his hard-on grows bigger than it already was before, He slides his hand into his underwear and begins jerking himself off as he listens to your moans and cries of pleasure. Billy takes your virginity, and you've been loving every second of it, your tip brushing against his g-spot every time he bounces. His tight pucker squeezes your length, causing you to throw your head back and your cock twitches indicating your release and with a couple more bounces from Billy you shoot your load inside of him. He places his hand on your chest as he helps you ride out your high, "such a big load." he groans out as he grips his hand on his cock and begins jerking faster and faster.
He pulls himself off your cock and begins jerking off to your face, you open your mouth wide and stick your tongue out wide for him as he pumps him cock. With one final jerk, he shoots his thick creamy load all over your face, "N-NGH!" He groans out as his ropes of cum hit your face. You breath heavily as you lay down against the bed wiping the cum off your face with your hand and licking it all up, making sure to swallow cause you'll never spit. Billy gets up and begins getting changed, "you completely drained me, and you also filled me." he says with a chuckle as he pulls his shirt over his head. He gently crawls onto the bed, pecking your lips before leaving the room. You lay against the warm duvet licking up the rest of the cum with a smile on your face.
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taglist - @starboye @mailmango @ghostking4m @kingchaospostsstuff @crispysoup318 @inhumanshadows @its-ares
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ghostsangel · 17 hours
Note
Could I request being friends with Ghost (who's desperately in love with you) and admitting to him one night that you don't think anyone would ever love you? If reader is plus size that would be amazing! Thank you 😊
oh my god this is adorable!!! sorry if this is too short or it sucks. totally felt like writer’s block.
simon “ghost” riley x fem!plus-size reader
tags/warnings: a lil internalized fatphobia, smitten ghost, this is legit fluff bro, a bit of angst if you squint
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You’re so tired of being alone.
It sounds stupid, but you’ve never had a boyfriend. Never been kissed or had sex or even held hands with a guy. A big part of you feels like it’s because you’ve got a bit more meat on your bones—apron belly, saggy boobs, thick thighs. How would you expect anyone to love those parts of yourself when you barely do yourself?
“You alright?” Simon’s voice tugs you out of your thoughts.
You blink and look at him, forcing your lips to tug up into a smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just thinkin’.”
“About?” He takes a sip of his beer, leaning back against your couch.
You’ve been friends with Simon for a couple of years. You met through mutual acquaintances, and found he’s really fun to hang out with. Caring, a bit goofy when he’s drunk, protective. In truth, you’ve developed a bit of a crush on him. But, surely, someone who looks like Simon….yeah, you’re out of his league.
You shrug, crossing your arms in front of your belly and leaning back on the couch. “Things.”
Simon raises his brows. “Things,” he repeats. “Come on, tell me. We’ve been friends for a long time, doll.”
His eyes pierce through you, and you can’t help the heat that rises to your face. Averting your gaze, you rub your thighs together, shaking your head. “It’s stupid.”
Simon grunts and sets his beer down, moving to sit next to you on the couch. He turns your head to face him, fingers on your chin. A prickly subject for you—your double chin makes you so self-conscious, you could cry.
“C’mon, nothin’ you say could be stupid,” he reassures you, releasing your chin.
You’re silent for a moment before you sigh. “Just thinkin’ about me. And how I’ve never been loved, and probably never will be.”
Simon blinks at you, brows drawing together. “And why do you think that?”
You look at him incredulously, your hands gesturing to your body. “Because I look like…this. I’m fat. And guys don’t—”
“Shut it,” Simon says, tilting your head up by your chin. There’s a look in his eyes, one you’ve never seen before. “You’re bloody beautiful, doll. Your body makes men like me weak, and it drives me crazy.” He leans in, and your breath hitches in your throat. “Ever since I met you, you’re all I fuckin’ think about. Think I’ve loved you since that first day.”
Your heart stops, and your brain scrambles as you try to reply. “I—what? You…what?”
Simon laughs softly, his fingers moving to cup your cheek. “You don’t have to worry about anyone not loving you, sweetheart. I already do. Been crazy about you since we met.”
“Really?” You breathe out, meeting his eyes. “You’re not just lyin’ to me or makin’ fun of me or—”
Simon shuts you up with a kiss, his lips pressing against yours slowly. You kiss him back, clumsily, not sure what to do. You just follow his lead, letting him take control. The kiss causes heat to run down your spine and you pull back after a moment.
“I’ve never…” You trail off, meeting his eyes.
“I know. Don’t worry, love. I’ll be all your firsts if you let me.”
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omgthatdress · 12 hours
Text
special thanks to all my followers who have stuck with me through the "fundraiser asks are bots & scammers" mess. My post did indeed piss quite a few people off but the response has been 90% positive, with a lot of people being relieved of the massive anxiety those asks were causing them (another huge thing that I hate about them is how they feed on people's mental health issues, esp. those with hyperfixations/anxiety on doing good and morality)
For the people who are getting really big mad at me it's like "tell me you got scammed without telling me you got scammed," which is a lot harder for some people to accept than you would think.
Also for those who still insist the asks aren't bots, I made my post with a big opening statement that I readily delete and report any fundraiser ask in my ask box, tagged it "Palestine" and "Palestinian," and the number of asks I got in my box literally quadrupled the next day. They are targeting people who are blogging on the issue because that's what bots do. Classic bot behavior.
If you have fallen for a fundraiser ask bot, don't hate yourself too much. Everyone on Tumblr has fallen for a charity scam at least once, including me. Those things are fucking heart-wrenching and convincing and hard to ignore. The important thing is that once you have the scam explained to you, you accept that you've been scammed and don't double down and insist what's obviously a bot is a real suffering Palestinian without any real proof. That's when you turn into an asshole.
Some people are like "I'd rather give to a thousand scammers than put a Palestinian family at risk!" and...... yeah you realize that's bad, right? The money that could actually be out there saving people's lives is instead going to an unknown criminal of unknown origins. For all we know, these bots could be funding Zionist settlers driving people in the West Bank out of their homes. (I AM NOT claiming this as a fact, merely illustrating that we don't fucking know. pissing on the poor, etc.)
And.... well some people really are a special kind of dumb and when you're really fucking stubborn about how dumb and naive you are I'd say fuck it, you deserve to lose your money, but no. People's lives are actually at stake and that money needs to go to the people who actually depend on it, and that makes me angry.
YES these bots are harmful and YES they need to be removed from Tumblr. Delete and report any that you get.
148 notes · View notes
cheolaholic · 2 days
Text
ring of love; csc (07)
summary; agreeing to join vernon spectate an underground boxing match wasn't how you'd expect to spend your friday night. you also didn't expect to see seungcheol, someone you've lost contact with for years, become a part of the ring.
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modern! au • boxer! au • hhu focused • multiple kinds of tropes • fluff, angst, smut
a/n;; im gonna be honest, i had no clue as to how im gonna write chapter 7 so i took a short break. that ended with me diving head first into love and deepspace which now has led me to a new obsession – Sylus. if you saw that post i made abt LNDS a few weeks ago, that has manifested into a side blog @chaeriescola where i’ll be posting my-non kpop related fics (read: Sylus & Zayne brainrot) also, i’m on Patreon now !! if you join my Patreon, you’ll get early access to the fics (a week early before they get posted on tumblr & ao3), exclusive bonus content, sneak peeks of other projects etc. if you’d like these special treats, feel free to join 👀 enough of me yapping, onto the fic~
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Seungcheol wasn’t exactly sure what he was expecting when he tasked Mingyu and Vernon to look after you – considering how they both absolutely suck at understanding the whole “look after ___ for me but, don’t let her catch you” concept. He’s seen them tail behind you, possibly raising concerns in some students and staff whether they were stalking you from the moment they spotted you.
coups: can’t you two be more discreet? coups: you both look like you’re the worst stalkers gameboi: ? tallgyu: I think we’re doing a good job alien-non: yea, she hasn’t noticed us gameboi: you really got Mingyu and Hansol to tail after ___? gameboi: no offense to all 3 of you gameboi: but Hansol’s logic is practically gone if Mingyu’s leading tallgyu: HEY alien-non: I suggested we wear disguises but Mingyu didn’t want to! tallgyu: those weirdly shaped sunglasses are way too obvious coups: what you’re doing now is way more obvious! tallgyu: she hasn’t noticed us tallgyu: it’s fine hyung coups: Vernon alien-non: yes coups: you know how aware ___ is of her surroundings coups: she’s probably already spotted you both gameboi: but chose not to say anything
As if on cue, when they both turned a corner, they were both startled to come face-to-face with you, arms crossed, staring right at them.
“You’ve both been following me for the past hours, can I help you?” you ask, eyes narrowing when they both exchange a look.
“Well…” Mingyu started, “We… We just wanted to make sure you didn’t get lost…?”
Vernon mentally facepalms at Mingyu’s response while you scrunch your eyebrows in confusion, “To make sure I wouldn’t get lost…? On a campus I’ve been attending for at least 2 years…?”
“Seungcheol hyung wanted us to look after you,” Vernon confesses, “I don’t know why, but he just told us to keep an eye on you.”
“And, so, you’ve decided to follow me around?”
“Mingyu was the one who suggested it…”
“You both would make terrible secret agents…” Seungcheol mumbled as he came up behind you, wrapping an arm around your waist as he sent glares to the two younger males. “Cheol, I’m a big girl now – I can handle myself!”
“I know, I know,” he admits, “And, I’m sorry, pup-”
“Pup? You call her ‘pup’?” Your ears burned red at Mingyu’s question, forgetting that not everyone grew up with you and Seungcheol or knowing the reason that he calls you that.
“It’s a nickname I gave her while we were growing up,” Seungcheol answers, “And, it stuck with her since.”
“She grew up with you? Oh, you poor thing,” Mingyu faked cries as he pulls you into an embrace, “He must’ve picked on you non-stop.”
“Actually, he didn’t pick on me.” The taller male pulls away, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion at your answer. “He stood for me and may or may not have threatened the people that did pick on me.” He looks at Seungcheol with a look of betrayal, “That’s not fair! Why does she get special treatment while you keep picking on me!?”
Seungcheol pries Mingyu away from you, his arm returning to its position on your waist as he answers, “Because you’re Mingyu, and she’s… she’s ___.”
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‘Well… this is… awkward…’ you thought to yourself as you sat in front of Wonwoo, one of the other boys you had briefly met that night. Seungcheol suggested you meet the three of them altogether, mainly Mingyu and Wonwoo since you were already best friends with Vernon, to somewhat break the ice.
‘Choi Seungcheol, you ass, this is anything but breaking the ice! If anything, this is increasing the freezing point of the ice!’
Unfortunately, Seungcheol’s plan of grabbing lunch together is now facing a setback. You had no classes that day, Wonwoo finished his, but Seungcheol, Mingyu and Vernon were being held back for their classes.
“Seungcheol, I’ve only met him once!” you whisper-shouted into your phone, “And, neither of us exchanged a single conversation since!”
“I know, I know,” Seungcheol answers, wracking his head to come up with solutions, “But, this lecturer is talking so slow that I have no choice!”
“What about Vernon and Mingyu?”
A sigh was heard, “Apparently, the model was being fussy about how she should be posing for their portrait. The lecturer needed her to be partially clothed, but since Mingyu was in the class… You can fill in the blanks…”
You let out a sigh, looking into the windows of the cafe as Wonwoo sits at a booth near the pick-up counter, “How much longer until you all are able to get here?”
“Probably an hour… And another 20 minutes to get there. Hey, you and Wonwoo both like drinking coffee and are introverts! Maybe you both can try talking to break the ice.”
Oh, boy, did Seungcheol underestimate the introversion you and Wonwoo possess. You had initially tried to have small talk with him, only to chicken out when he looked at you with that piercing gaze through his glasses. It’s been half an hour since you sat down at the booth with him, your strawberry milkshake sitting on a coaster as he goes to order possibly his third cup of cappuccino.
When he returns with his drink, you can’t help but ask, “Isn’t that… too much caffeine…?”
Wonwoo seemed a bit taken back when you finally opened your mouth to talk, but he recovers quickly and shrugs, “Honestly, after drinking caffeine for years, you kind of grow immune to it. You should’ve seen Mingyu’s reaction when he found me sleeping after downing 5 cans of Monster.”
“Five!?”
“Yes, five.”
“And, you were still able to sleep?”
“Like a baby.”
Wonwoo was surprisingly easy to talk to – you just needed to get over your social anxiety and the very intimidating resting bitch face he has. You’ve come to learn that the man in front of you was GAM3BO1WOO, a famous game streamer on SVTwitch. You’ve seen a few of his stream clips on your feed, but you weren’t exactly a fan of his since his taste in games and yours were vastly different.
“Do you play every new game release?” you asked, scrolling through his MAESTRO account and skimming through his posts.
“It depends, actually. If a new game really catches my eye, then I’ll download it. Other than that, either the companies sponsored me to stream their games, my followers keep requesting that I play the game they think would suit me or want to see me play. Sometimes, Mingyu and Cheol would gift me co-op games since a lot of them have the mechanic of if one player already owns the game, the second player plays for free.”
“Have you ever hopped on trends?”
“It drives traffic and increases my followers, can’t really complain.”
You’re not sure how long you’ve been conversing with Wonwoo. But, it was definitely long enough for neither of you to notice the three men standing right outside the window, watching you two fondly and surprised. “They’re… talking…” Mingyu says in awe, a chuckle from Seungcheol following afterwards, “Nice to know two of our introverts are getting along just fine.”
You noticed them from the corner of your eyes, turning to the window, Wonwoo following to look at them. You smiled, giving them a small wave which they returned while the latter gave a small nod of his head.
“Sorry for keeping the two of you waiting,” Seungcheol apologised the second he got to the booth, taking a seat next to you. Mingyu and Vernon took their seats next to Wonwoo after placing their orders at the counter. “Aren’t you going to get anything?” you asked the older male, looking up at him as you took a sip from your milkshake.
“I’m assuming you’re waiting for me so you can order some kind of snack which we either share or I finish the remaining you can’t.” When you don’t answer and avert his gaze, Seungcheol knows he caught you red-handed. He chuckles as he gets out of the booth and towards the counter, which unfortunately for you, leads to an interrogation by the other three boys – technically, it was mainly Mingyu with the occasional questioning from Vernon. Wonwoo just sits quietly, listening in as his eyes would dart between you, your two ‘interrogators’ and Seungcheol who was still lining up.
The two men asked you the questions you’d expect.
“How old were you when you met Seungcheol hyung?”
“I think… I think I was 5? He should be about 7 or 8?”
“What did he look like back then? Did he look like a nerd?”
“Well, he had the signature bowl kid every boy got when they were kids or teens.”
“Was he scary?”
“Kind of? Not a lot of people messed with me because of how protective he was over me.”
“Mess with little red riding hood, the big bad wolf will come and get you.”
All attention was on Seungcheol as he placed a plate of strawberry cake and a plate of a dozen brownies on the table, returning to his seat right next to you. Noticing the stunned expressions from his peers, he shrugs, “That was what they’d always say to anyone trying to approach her with ill intentions. It’s basically their way of saying ‘if you don’t want trouble, don’t go looking for trouble’.”
An easier way to put it was – if you don’t want to deal with an angry Seungcheol, don’t bother his girl. Your heart still flutters at how some people referred to you as ‘his girl’, but you knew that actually being his girl was nothing more than a dream to you. “By the way hyung, when’s your next fight? Maybe ___ could come and help out, y’know?” Vernon asks, reaching out to grab a brownie only for his hand to be lightly slapped by Seungcheol. “Ow! What was that for!?”
“If you want them, go get them yourselves,” the older male answers, pushing the plate of brownies towards you. “These are for ___. If you want one, go get one yourself.” Your face heats up at the gesture, and heats up further when the three males turn to you. “Why does she get special treatment?” Mingyu whines, “And how can she possibly finish that entire plate?”
Seungcheol pats your head as he answers, “Because she’s ___. And, yes, she can. If she can’t, I’ll finish it.”
“Can we have a piece if you’re the one finishing it up?”
“No, get your own.”
“Ah, hyung!”
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You’ve managed to bond with Wonwoo and Mingyu, becoming close with them in a matter of days and now, you’ve got four ‘bodyguards’ walking around with you (Mingyu refers to them as that, the others and you just play along). The downside that comes with the friendship would be a flock of envious fangirls (and occasionally fanboys) who had begun to buzz around you like moths attracted to light.
“How did you become friends with Wonwoo? Could you ask him to shout me out on his streams or MAESTRO account?”
“Is Mingyu single? Could you introduce me to him?”
“Would you like to be friends? I’d love to be friends with the boys!”
Both boys could see you were tired of the clout chasers, especially Wonwoo since he knows you value your personal space. Both men had taken the issue to their social media, expressing how they’d appreciate it if their ‘fans’ stopped bugging their friends and loved ones in an attempt to get close with them. You remembered when both of them addressed the issue on Wonwoo’s stream, the sternness in both their voices still sent shivers down your spine.
“We understand that you may think you know us as we both are content creators and certain information has been released about us online. While we may not be able to put an end to the parasocial relationship that you have built with us, we do not know you and you do not know us. Do not harass our friends and loved ones, and if your unhealthy obsession of us persists, please seek help.”
That was enough for a majority of the fanboys/fangirls to back off. Some still linger, but they were no longer up close and in your face bombarding you with questions or requests.
Currently, Wonwoo, Mingyu and Vernon sat in a discussion room within the library as they waited for Seungcheol and you. It was a small meet-up, but it could also be treated as a short co-working/co-studying meet-up. Your class was ending later than usual and Seungcheol offered to wait for you so both of you could walk to the library.
Beauty and the Beasts
mingoo: @princess how much longer is the lecture gonna take?
princess: erm… another 15 mins?
princess: …
princess: who set my nickname as princess in the gc?
All four boys replied altogether and you playfully rolled your eyes.
mingoo: coups hyung
vernonnie: cheol hyung
nonu: seungcheol
cheol: i did
cheol: i got you your coffee order btw
mingoo: what about us?
cheol: you lot already got your orders before you headed to the library
mingoo: i’m assuming you got her snacks too
cheol: yes
cheol: and they’re only for ___
cheol: so don’t try to steal them
Mingyu lets out a groan as he lays his upper body on the table. “It’s not fair,” he whines, “Why does Seungcheol hyung give ___ special treatment? Is it because she’s a girl?” Vernon shrugs, “Maybe? But, he’s treated his exes the same way, too.”
“Yeah, I know that, Vernon. But, isn’t there something different?”
Mingyu sits up as he looks at Vernon, his words seeming to be hinting at something as the younger male sits in silence. “It’s like he’s more attentive, more caring. Like, he was caring before to the other girls, but there’s this extra layer to it, y’know?”
“He means there’s more than meets the eye,” Wonwoo says, “I think what Mingyu’s trying to say is that Seungcheol is whipped for ___.”
“Yes!” Mingyu exclaims, pointing at Wonwoo with a puppy-like grin on his face, “But, also no? I don’t know! They grew up together so maybe it’s like a habit he has or a sense of responsibility he feels?”
“But, who would want to call their childhood best friend who is now an adult ‘pup’?” Vernon questions, and Wonwoo tips his pencil in the younger male’s direction, “Precisely. Everyone would grow out of it, much less a nickname like that. Hell, would you call any of your friends that kind of name as an adult?”
Mingyu hums in understanding. All three of them knew just how shameless Seungcheol could be sometimes. Vernon bites back a gag when he recalls accidentally witnessing Seungcheol and his then girlfriend making out in his car, in the campus’ parking lot - in broad daylight. He pitied his therapist who had to listen to him ramble on and on about suspecting the older male having an exhibitionist kink.
“So, you really think he’s whipped for her?”
“Seungcheol barely remembers your favourite cake, but he remembers ___’s coffee order.”
“He probably has it written down somewhere?”
“I beg to differ,” Vernon speaks up.
He joined Seungcheol to get coffee a few weeks ago. While Seungcheol was ordering his, you had texted Vernon saying your Business Module class had completely drained you and you were in need of a quick pick me up. All he did was say, “___ wants us to help get her coffee,” and Seungcheol began reciting your order to the barista without a second thought.
“He knew it like the back of his hand! Not a single thing was missed out!”
As Mingyu and Vernon continue to discuss Seungcheol's love life, Wonwoo glances down at his phone as it vibrates, a notification from you. Opening up the text app on his laptop, he types out his reply.
___: hey woo?
___: is it ok if i call you that-
wonwoo: yes?
wonwoo: n yes, perfectly fine
___: ok
___: um, so the class im in rn, we’re almost done btw!
___: they need me to write some kind of paper abt how psychology n business work
___: n since you’re a psych major
wonwoo: you need my help, yes?
___: bingo
___: is it possible for you to help me?
wonwoo: sure thing
wonwoo: why don’t you go over the details with me once you’re out of class?
wonwoo: we’ve booked the discussion room for the entire day
___: don’t the others have class?
Wonwoo can feel Mingyu and Vernon standing behind him as they “observe” his conversation with you. “Oooh, you’re texting his girl~” Mingyu teases, earning a glare from the older male that shuts him up immediately. “She needs help with her coursework and I have relevant information that can help her,” he replies as he resumes to type out his reply.
wonwoo: seungcheol only has one class today iirc
wonwoo: gyu and vernon have some kind of workshop in an hour
___: oh, cool!
___: then i can also get cheollie’s opinion
“Do you think they have a thing for each other?” Vernon asks, seemingly picking up on certain signs just from the text Wonwoo had just exchanged with you.
“Who? Seungcheol hyung and ___?” Mingyu asks back and he nods. The taller male thinks for a while, recalling the times that he’s seen any form of interaction or exchanged conversation the pair have shared. “Maybe? But, there weren’t any obvious signs that explicitly showed that Seungcheol or ___ like the other.”
“Well, there is a saying that love is in plain sight. Or that whole “you were hiding in plain sight” trend that was going around CIRCLES a few months ago.”
“Should we play cupid?”
“I think it’d be best if we don’t interfere with their love life.”
Wonwoo had a point. While their curiosity was gnawing away, the last thing they’d wanna do is accidentally driving a wedge between you and Seungcheol. It would be worse if they were reading the room wrong and neither of you were harbouring any feelings for the other. “But, that doesn’t mean we can’t find some clues to answer our hypothesis.”
Mingyu and Vernon looked at the older male who was still typing on his laptop. “Are we conducting experiments on them now?”
“I wouldn’t put it that way. I’d say it’s more of observing their interactions with each other.”
“We’ll leave the psychology part to the psych major.”
“If this ends up being your thesis paper, Woo, we’d better be given credits.”
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Later that night…
gyu created the group Operation Cupid 💘
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taglist (unable to tag a few ㅠㅠ)
@yoonclip @1004luvangel @catjunhui @mystikha @spk93 @tinkerbell460 @yoozuku @dnylwooo @christinewithluv @limbomoon @plutoxxxworld @i-give-up-1234 @m1ngyuc0re @yunloyal @leclercloverbot @bettybeako @billboard-singer @ocyeanicc @krupyadoorrahe @seobinnieshi @xcynthiaaa @k411z @disneyprincesshuri @sunnyapp @khxsh @staygenezy @loufi8iepuff @ursweetner @noisypapergalaxy @wonwootakemyheart @sugainpinksweater @leah-rose03 @thisisnothelastofus @yearnoclock @kwonhoeshi @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @ru-lin @deobiforever @belladaises @cheoliekkuma @duskunt1ldawn @hyneyedfiz @marshmallowshouse @ak6ko @chwevernonlover @jejuboo-s @tsukinluv @atinytinaa @gyros-cum-sock @soupbinlily @jungwoos-luvr @ener-energy @watermelon-sugars-things @cyberpunkhwx @ddaengpotate @nightwingsrobbinhoods @chaerrylov3r @joshuaahong @wonussmile @uliceeeeeeee @wonwoo24 @shinetogether17 @simplejihoon @luvkpopp @shingbangyes @black-swan-blog27 @minhui896
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Text
Beside You...
Pro Hero Bakugo ♡ Pro Hero Reader
Friends to Lovers
Summary: Bakugo always held victory close to his heart, but he held you closer.
From being kids in the playground, to freshly new homeowners talking about marriage, and til you both took your last breaths with a smile... you were the thing he held closest.
(This is Bruno Mars and Lady Gaga's fault for cooking up Die With A Smile. Had me in my feels.🫠)
TW: ANGST !! and some suggestive writing but no smut. Read at own risk.
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Age 6
Bakugo knew from a young age who he's supposed to be. Even as kids change their future occupation to astronauts to doctors, he never had doubt. He was meant to be a hero. He was meant to protect you.
"Hey! Stop pulling my hair it's not funny!"
The young blonde hears your cries from a mile away as two of the older kids from the playground tug your hair and take your toy away.
"Or what? you're just a pathetic weakling who can't even fight back." The two kids laugh as they continue to torment you.
Suddenly, a big explosion was directed at the two bullies sending them flying. Bakugo had never had such perfect precision with his quirk before. It was his first perfect and biggest shots he's had since his quirk manifestation.
"Die you extras! If you even think about bullying her again, I'll blow you to bits!" He barked like a high squeaking chihuahua standing in front of your body that was thrown down from the blast. Safe to say you never saw those bullies again.
"Get up. Your dress is going to get dirty." Bakugo huffs, sounding angry but still holding his hand out with a blush.
Your eyes widen as you take his hand to get up, and you give him a big hug, causing him to be taken aback.
"You're my hero!"
Bakugo never went to the park without you after that. Not if both of your parents wanted to deal with constant crying/yelling from the two of you...
Age 14
After the U.A. exams, you and Bakugo sit in his room as you hold your head in your hands in defeat.
"Stop sulking. You don't even know if you got rejected yet." He says in his usual huff but still holds your hair back.
You mailed your results to his house so you could open it together.
"Easy for you to say. You had the highest points. I swear it took me forever to get one robot when I was too busy saving others from getting mauled by theirs." Y/n sighs as she reflects on the exams.
"I don't know Kats, I think I did better in the Shiketsu exam than I did U.A. I'll probably only be getting the acceptance there." You groan as you wipe some tears from your face.
"Shut up. You don't know shit yet." He said earning a scoff.
"I know I did dog shit at the exam, and that's enough. Sorry to say, but I don't think we'll be in the same class, or even the same school."
"I'll go to Shiketsu then."
You let out an audible laugh before looking at his face, dropping you smile instantly.
"Holy shit. You're serious?" You say before shaking your head. "No, you can't. Your dream is UA. Don't be switching shit up just because of me." You say before turning your body towards him.
"I don't care where I get my license at. I'm still going to be number one. No matter what. Beside can't be training if your ass is getting into trouble the whole other side of town",He said, rolling his eyes as he looked away from your widened gaze.
"Katsuki-," you say before getting cut off.
"Don't make a big deal out of it, princess." He quips, signaling to you that's the end of the discussion. He's going where you go.
Silence falls between the two of you until the sound of a car is heard right after. You both rush to get the letters and begin to open them. Revealing two holograms of All Might congratulating them on their acceptances to Class 1-A.
You grab him and jump up and down from excitement.
"See you idiot. You were overreacting." He says with his usual smirk. You roll your eyes. Maybe you were being a bit dramatic.
"Yeah, but still.." You say before kissing his cheek, causing him to freeze up. You smile at him.
"Thank you for wanting to cheer me up and wanting to stay by me."
His stares at your beautiful smile before looking away.
"Tch. Always, you big baby." He says before pulling you into his arms as you laugh.
Your romantic relationship didn't wait long after that moment.
Age 22
"Last fucking box." Bakugo grunts putting down the box down in the empty living room filled with the rest of the labeled boxes. While your slumped body lays on the couch, you just assembled.
Something about wanting to make the house feel more homey for the time being or procrastination for unpacking Bakugo calls it. Still, he takes the opportunity to lay next to you.
"Why didn't we just keep our apartment." You groan as you look at him. He glares at you.
"You were the one that suggested buying the house in full, princess." He said. They both earned quite a bit the last year and had money to spare.
"Besides, that place was getting too cramped for all our shit. You know this already." He says before grabbing your face as you pout.
"Ugh, but now we have to unpack all of this." You say as he smushes your cheeks. You wrap your arm around him.
You both lean in for a kiss, embracing the comfort of the couch. You both pull away and sit up, looking at all the boxes.
"Cmon, get your ass up and help me unpack." He says, trying to reach for a box before you blurt out.
"Let's get married today."
Just as he thinks you can never surprise him, you say shit like that.
He was planning on marrying you, like hell he would buy a house just for a girlfriend. You were his first and only, no doubt. But he didn't expect how this would play out.
"What?" He says in a shell-shocked tone.
"The court house doesn't close til 9. We still have time to make it over there. So what do you say." Going up to him with a sheepish smile.
"Fuck no." He says to you while you pause, smile dimming while thinking you misinterpreted his goals with you.
"Oh. Okay. Yeah, it was stupid ide - "You say before getting interrupted.
"Fuck that's not what I meant, Babe." He says before grabbing your pulling away figure.
"I wanna marry your ass, but I'm not doing it at a courthouse just because you're trying to avoid moving into our damn house." He says before peppering you with kisses. His grip on you tightening.
"I just needed to make sure that meant moving into a home meant what I thought it meant." You mumble between kisses. Wrapping your arms around his neck.
"Of course it does, dumbass." He says, deepening the kiss as he walks and pulls you down to the couch. Falling into each other's embrace.
It's definitely a creative way of getting comfortable in the new home.
Age 45
"Fucking shit" Bakugo groans after the building collapsed on the two of you by the villian you both were trying to stop for months now.
"Katsuki." You weakly groan beneath him as the raging headache ensued from the collision of the building.
Bakugo look around them, sighing in relief as he realizes his wife is okay, and so is he. He tries to get but stops when he hears you yelp in pain.
"Stop, don't move, Katsuki!" You breathe tiredly. Only then does Bakugo look down and see the large metal bar piercing the two of you together. It's shocking the two of you are still alive.
Bakugo looks into your eyes as you whimper in pain. His adrenaline is beginning to stop as he winces in pain, too. But he puts on a brave face.
"Shh.. Fuck. It's okay, baby. We're going to get out of here okay, rescue shouldn't take long." He now says breathlessly holding you close.
You smile weakly at him, grabbing caressing his face.
"You're no liar, Katsuki. It's okay." You say while your voice cracks with emotion. He grits his teeth as tears spill out of his eyes.
"I'm sorry... I can't save us this time, baby " He says, choking on tears and blood. Your tears beging to spill, too.
"There was still so much I wanted to do with you." He sobs out as you listen, sobbing too.
"Fuck, we should've stopped ages ago, our stubborn asses. Should've retired early, go on a vacation, fuck maybe even had a child or two." He huffs out in a sad laughter as you both realize just how different your lives could've been if you had stopped being heroes year before.
Maybe your guy's death would have been more peaceful; one with old gray hair and wrinkles.
You give out a weak laugh. Your vision starts to get smaller, so you try to soak up every last detail of your husband's face.
"I don't regret this." You say choking on your blood. He stares lovingly into your eyes. His vision too slowly giving out.
"I loved that I got to spend every moment with you, Kats. I fucking love you're annoying ass so much. I couldn't imagine breathing without you next to me." You say with a weak smile, gasping for air with each pause.
Bakugo weakly smiles back at you as he brushes the debris off your face. Taking your beauty in for the final time.
"Good thing we don't have to" He says his final comeback as he pulls you in and puts his lips on yours.
Taking each other's final breath...
[If] our time on Earth was through, I'd wanna hold you just for a while, and die with a smile.
If the world was ending, I wanna be next to you~♡
Alternative Happy Ending
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Shut up, I'm not crying you are 😭.
It's literally one of the most emotional pieces I've ever written in my life.
Blame Bruno Mars and Lady Gaga. 😭
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bro-atz · 13 hours
Text
what we do to boys who are on the run
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in which: you just so happened to kidnap the wrong man, and you chose the worst possible one to kidnap.
pair: mafia boss!mingi/afab!reader
word count: 6.6k
content: smut, angst (everybody gets mad at bro), mingi's got a gun!, mingi's also on the run oops, some depiction of violence, wounds and bullets and general injuries, domestic!mingi?, big dick!mingi agenda, fingering, oral sex, unprotected sex (PLS REMEMBER TO WRAP UP IRL!), creampie?, completely consensual!
rated: R | nsfw — minors do not interact
author's note: hold onto your hats this is going to be a long note— and the extremely sylus inspired brain rot continues! domestic sylus anyone? also inspired by the movie ittefaq (you gotta really squint to see it tho) ONE MORE THING this is my contribution to the @cultofdionysusnet summer event: see u on the flip side; and lastly, i'm making this a sylus inspired brain rot series (sorry not sorry) ENJOY special thanks to choy @skteezcursed @ja3hwa and @k-hotchoisan
what we do to boys series: san, mingi
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You didn't mean for it to happen. You went to the airport to surprise your brother. Well, you were going to "kidnap him" since he didn't know you were going to be there, but what you didn't know was that he missed his flight, so he decided to cancel his trip. And it certainly was not your fault for mistaking the man with the sunglasses and face mask for your brother. However, it was definitely your fault for putting a pillowcase over his head and pulling him to your car so you could bring him back to your apartment.
When you sat the man down in your living room and unveiled him, you were mortified. Sitting on the couch was a man with sharp eyes, a sharp nose, and the most attractive lips you had ever seen in your entire life— also, he had a gigantic gash across his cheek. This guy was most definitely not your brother— so who the hell was he? More importantly, how and why the hell did he let himself get kidnapped by you when he easily could've gotten away from you with all those damn muscles? And most importantly, why the hell was he bleeding?
"What the fuck?! You're not my brother!" were the first words out of your mouth upon seeing the man.
Rubbing his temples, he looked up at you with a piercing glare, sending shivers down your spine. "You treat your brother like this? Damn, I feel for the guy."
Still completely shaken by the fact that you abducted a total stranger and brought him into your home, your fight or flight instincts kicked in, and unfortunately for you, your body chose fight. You grabbed the lamp next to the couch and held it in front of you awkwardly.
"W-Who are you?!"
"Definitely not your brother, that's for sure," the man chuckled dryly.
"Don't act smart with me!" you raised the lamp, threatening to break it over his head. "I-I'll use th— I'm not afraid to u-use this!"
The slight smirk on his face dropped when you weakly threatened him. Moving his jacket aside, he revealed a gun while saying calmly, "Princess, that's not a weapon. This is. Now, put down the lamp before you break a nail, alright?"
Your blood froze the second you saw the gun. Meekly, you obeyed him, praying that he wouldn't pull the gun out of his holster. He silently gestured for you to get on your knees and kneel before him, which you did. Leaning forward, he brought his face closer to yours.
"You're going to answer my questions first," he started, his low voice practically scaring you shitless. "Why'd you want to kidnap your brother?"
"I-It was supposed to be a prank... He didn't know I was coming to the airport..."
"Why didn't you think to check who I was first before deciding to kidnap me?"
"You were wearing the sunglasses and the mask— You looked like my brother from behind, so I just acted— I got confused," you rambled, your brain desperately trying to keep it together while you answered his question.
"I see," he nodded and leaned back. "And what about your brother?"
"Huh?"
"You said you were at the airport to kidnap your brother, right? Is he on his way?"
"I— I don't know," you stuttered.
"Call him. Find out," he nodded.
You pulled your phone out of your back pocket to see that you didn't have to call him— he texted you the entire saga on how he missed his flight and that he would not be visiting since the airplane tickets were too expensive.
"Well?" the man asked after several moments of silence passed.
"He's not coming..." you whispered, suddenly realizing that your chance at survival diminished significantly due to the fact that no one was going to come to your apartment.
"Good."
Good? Why good?!
"What do—"
"No, princess. I'm not done asking questions just yet," he interrupted you. "Where's your first aid kit?"
"I-In the bathroom..."
"Where is the bathroom?"
"Down the hall..."
The man stood up and immediately winced, his hand flying to his stomach to clench it. He took one step away from you, only to turn on his heel. He did the thing you feared he would do: he took his gun out of his holster. You were practically near tears seeing the gun so close to you.
"Take me there. I'm not letting you out of my sight."
Nodding, you led him to the bathroom. He didn't touch you, but he forced you to enter the bathroom first, ensuring that you wouldn't be able to escape.
I kidnapped him, so why am I the one being held hostage?
He put his gun down on the sink and started looking through the cabinets for the first aid kit, but he was looking in all the wrong places, so you cleared your throat and asked, "Can I get it for you?"
He froze. He looked at you, then nodded once. You grabbed the first aid kit from where it was and set it down on the sink next to the gun. You considered using that chance to grab the gun and use it on him, but you didn't have the courage to do that— plus, you knew that you were somehow going to manage to shoot yourself in the process.
The man opened the box and grabbed a couple different things from the box— you couldn't tell what he grabbed because the lid of the box blocked your view— then started taking his jacket and shirt off. You immediately looked away, unsure of what to do at that moment. Sure, you could've looked at him warily since he was holding you hostage, but you also didn't want him biting your head off for looking at him while he did what he had to do.
As you pondered these questions, you heard him hiss in pain, immediately snapping your attention to him. You barely acknowledged how defined the muscles on his torso were before realizing he was cleaning a wound on his waist, instantly making you panic.
"You were stabbed?! You should go to the hospital!"
"I wasn't stabbed, I was grazed by a bullet," he replied while rolling his eyes. "And do you really think a guy like me should be in a hospital? I'll get arrested."
"Maybe for the gun, but if you're not a bad guy—"
"I would like to think that I am—" he interrupted you. "A bad guy."
"W-What do you mean...?"
"Oh, princess... You really should be careful next time you try to abduct someone..."
He set down the stuff from the kit and took a step towards you. Your back was pressing uncomfortably against the sink countertop as he pinned you in place, his face lowering to meet yours. Despite the fresh scar on his face and his general lack of warmth, you had to admit that he was kind of hot.
You felt your face flush with warmth, and you immediately avoided eye contact. The man stifled a snicker as he smirked. "You're cute, princess," he said, his voice laced with amusement.
He finally moved away from you to tend to his wound, letting you breathe. You kept your eyes on the ground, but your eyes would occasionally flit over to him to see what he was doing. He cleaned up the wound and was bandaging it when you glanced at him the seventh time. Surprisingly, he cleaned up after himself and closed the kit before putting it back where you got it out from. You kind of expected him to tell you to do that— but at this point, you didn't know what to expect.
"Come."
He held the gun in front of you again, and your nerves ran cold again. You left the bathroom first, the man following after you. You returned to the living room where he sat down on the couch with a grunt and you stood in front of him.
"So, since you kidnapped me," the man started, nearly making you roll your eyes at him. "I think it's only fair that you deal with the consequences and let me stay here a while."
"Huh?"
"I need a place to lay low. I was going to make other arrangements, but... I wouldn't mind staying in some princess's frilly little apartment."
You gritted your teeth and did your best to keep from yelling at him. After all, he could definitely kill you if you acted up. 
"I suppose that makes sense," you bit out.
"Great then—"
"But! I have some conditions."
You watched the man's gaze harden. You held your breath as he leaned forward, his gun still in hand. You were terrified he was going to hold it up, but he didn't.
"Never interrupt me, princess," he said, his deep voice scaring the shit out of you.
"Sorry," you squeaked.
He leaned back into the couch. He set his gun next to him, and you let go of the breath you had been holding.
"What are these conditions of yours?"
"If you're going to stay here, then you need to answer some questions I have for you," you stipulated.
"Alright," he said with a massive sigh. "You get one question."
"Only one?"
"Is that the question you want to ask?"
"No! No," you shook your head. "Just— Hold on."
The man looked at you as you thought about all the questions you had for him. Truth be told, you didn't want to know anything about his injury or his gun because that was just a nightmare waiting to happen. Finally, you settled on your question.
"Why do you want to stay here?" you asked.
"I'm not going to tell you."
"Wait! Then, I want one more question since you technically didn't answer my last one," you countered.
"Fine."
"Can you at least tell me your name?"
"...Mingi."
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The night after you kidnapped Mingi, you looked him up online, and while you did struggle a bit, you managed to find some articles about him and his gang. The more you uncovered about him, the more terrified you became of him. To think he used that gun to actually kill someone meant that he wasn't joking when he held the gun to your head— that thing was definitely loaded with real bullets.
You didn't know how long he was going to stay for, but when one of his underlings delivered a package— the biggest box you had ever seen— to your workplace, you figured he was going to be there for a while. You wanted to tell him off, but knowing that he hid his gun from you but could use it at any time made you keep your damn mouth shut.
Despite this home invader maximizing your anxiety, Mingi was surprisingly helpful and respectful, which only made you more wary of him.
Honestly, he was kind of like a dog if dogs had thumbs. You didn't have to worry if he would be gone when you left for work because he definitely made himself at home on your couch and promised you that he'd be waiting for you to get back— although, the first time he said it, it was more like a threat, like "if you don't come back home and try to tell the cops, I will kill you," type thing— but after that, it really was like walking home to a loyal dog. A loyal dog who would have dinner ready for you the second you got home.
"Hey, princess, you're home," Mingi greeted from the kitchen as soon as you walked through the threshold.
That was another thing. He still called you princess. And again, you wanted to tell him to stop, but you were too damn afraid to say anything to him.
"Yeah," you replied, exhausted. "I am..."
You threw your bag somewhere in the living room then trudged to your bedroom before flopping onto the bed. Your day at work was fine, but living with the mafia boss drained all of the energy from you that every action you made took twice the amount of effort that it should've. The second your face hit the pillow, you passed out.
When you woke up later that night, you woke up to see food for you on the kitchen countertop with a little note from Mingi that simply read "eat". You glanced at him on the couch where he was peacefully sleeping, the blanket he used to cover himself slowly slipping off his body.
That was your first mistake with the mafia boss. You shouldn't have cared, but you couldn't help it. You fixed the blanket for him. When you fixed it, he snuggled into the blanket and let out the softest sigh, your heart skipping a beat. You froze when he adjusted his sleeping position, worried that he would wake up, but he didn't. Carefully, you made your way back to the kitchen, ate the food he left for you, then went back to bed.
After seeing him sleep peacefully that one singular time, you unintentionally lowered your guard around the man.
One day, you got home from work to see Mingi sitting in the kitchen. He was on the phone with someone, but you couldn't tell who because the second you entered the room, he hung up.
"Who were you talking to?" you couldn't help but ask.
"None of your concern," Mingi brushed your question off. "How was work today?"
"Tiring... I think I'm going to go take a nap—"
"Don't do that. If you take a nap now, then you're going to be awake all night, and then you'll be even more tired at work tomorrow."
"Tomorrow's Saturday, Mingi," you pointed out.
"Oh... Well, don't take a nap. Keep me company."
Your stomach flipped. You had no idea why, but it did. Maybe you were scared— the man wasn't exactly an angel, and the way he said it was a little nerve-wracking, but he didn't sound malicious. Regardless of your confusion, you decided to just listen to him.
You sat at the kitchen island while Mingi went into the kitchen to start making something. As you sat there, however, you felt your eyes getting heavy, so you stood up and joined him near the stove, watching him as he tossed a couple of vegetables into the pan. You stared at the vegetables just tossing and turning, your eyes starting to get even heavier than before. Before long, your eyes were fully closed, and you started leaning towards Mingi. The second your body came in contact with his, though, you jerked awake and stood up perfectly straight.
"Did you just fall asleep standing up?" he asked with slight amusement as he looked at you, but the straight look on his face suggested that he was anything but amused.
"...Yes."
Mingi lips curled upwards into a slight smirk as he looked back to the stove. He smirked, and your heart fluttered. Your freaking heart fluttered for the mafia boss's insane side profile and devilish grin.
You were done for.
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You don't know when the dynamic started shifting for the two of you. Heck, you didn't even know when you went from fearing for your life to enjoying every second you spent with the mafia boss.
Since he pretty much refused to leave your apartment, and you didn't have much of a social life outside of work, you were alone in your apartment together a lot. You started hanging out with Mingi more as a way to keep yourself from taking a nap as soon as you got back from work, and to fill the time between getting home and bedtime, you watched movies, played games, and just talked with the guy. He never told you anything about himself, but he could somehow talk about anything and everything for hours and hours on end.
One night, the two of you were watching a pretty innocent movie— so innocent to the point where it was honestly boring the shit out of you. You stifled a yawn as you and Mingi sat on your couch while watching the movie.
"Come on, the movie isn't that boring," he commented when he saw you actually yawn.
"I'm tired, and this is the world's slowest movie. I'm going to yawn," you retorted.
"Maybe we should change it then..."
Mingi grabbed the TV remote and flipped the channel, the next channel immediately showing the most intimate scene you had ever seen in a movie in your entire life. The second the scene appeared, you heard the characters on screen moan loudly. You choked on your spit and looked away while Mingi panicked and turned off the TV.
Silence filled the living room. You buried your face in your hands. Mingi covered his mouth with his hand. Neither of you dared to speak or even look at each other. The silence continued to persist until Mingi cleared his throat.
"I... Um..." he tried to clear the air with a wavering voice. "M-Maybe we shouldn't watch a movie tonight..."
"Y-Yeah..."
There was another bout of awkward silence. You stood up and silently retreated to your room. Before you closed the door, you squeaked out a quick "good night" to the man in the living room, only to bury yourself in your bedsheets. Your heart was racing, and your mind was spinning— the moment was definitely not expected and awkward, but despite how insane the circumstances were, you were somehow turned on.
The dynamic definitely shifted after that point.
You and Mingi were still friendly with each other, but there was always something underlying in every interaction the two of you shared. It was either prolonged eye contact, or electricity every time the two of you briefly made physical contact with each other. Honestly, Mingi just breathing made you feel like your entire body was on fire, and the longer the tension persisted, the more desperate you got for him to do something— anything— with you. 
However, you lacked the courage to tell him that. So, one day, you sat yourself down in front of your vanity mirror in your bedroom and gave yourself a pep talk. Well, you were actually getting ready for an office party you were expected to go to, but you talked yourself into finally making some sort of move on him when you got back from the party.
As you got ready, you planned it out in your head. You were going to slip out of the apartment without Mingi knowing that you left, have only one drink at the party, and then come home immediately after. Luckily, you were able to do just that— you didn't run into Mingi on your way out, you managed to only get through the party on one glass of wine, and you returned home shortly thereafter.
When you got home and opened the door, Mingi didn't expect to see you wearing the tightest dress he had ever seen you wear. His brain short-circuited the longer he stared at the beautiful shape of your body, his eyes drawn to the way the dress hugged your bosom so tightly that it seemed like your chest was ready to pop out of the dress.
"I was wondering where you went," he murmured when you walked back into the apartment.
"There was a company party. I had to go," you sighed as you took your heels off, your sigh slightly turning into a moan of relief.
Mingi gulped nervously when he heard you, his body flushing with heat. It only got worse for him when you shook out your hair, messing it up a little.
As you ran your fingers through your hair, you couldn't help but notice the peculiar look on his face. Sober you would've just dismissed it, but you had enough liquid courage inside you to open your mouth and tease him.
"What is it?" you asked him, a smile playing on your lips.
"Nothing," he immediately responded while sucking in a breath.
You took a step towards him, your body mere centimeters from his. You held his arm, prompting him to look directly into your eyes.
"It doesn't seem like nothing," you whispered.
The man pressed his lips together and exhaled slowly through his nose, his entire body tingling when you rubbed his arm slowly with the faintest touch.
"You're doing this on purpose, aren't you, princess?"
You bit your lower lip and nodded, a smile playing on your lips. Your hand moved from his arm to his shoulder, then to his neck, your fingers tracing a line down the back of his neck. You closed the distance between you, pressing your body against his. Mingi exhaled slowly, heavily, and he let out a little grunt when you pulled his face towards yours, your lips barely brushing against his.
Mingi looked at you with wide eyes. When you kissed him properly, he acted without another thought. He wrapped his arms around you and kissed you back harshly, hungrily. His hands moved from your waist to your ass, his large hands cupping underneath and pulling you upwards so that he wouldn't have to bend as much to kiss you.
You clung to Mingi's shoulders when you felt his tongue push into your mouth, making a moan slip out of your mouth. You met his intensity with your own to the point where you were kissing him as if your life depended on it. Your hands desperately clung to him before you ran one hand down his chest, down his stomach, to his waist. You cupped your hand over his clothed hard-on, and that's when everything suddenly changed.
The second he felt your hand on his cock, Mingi pushed you away. He was breathing heavily as he increased the space between the two of you, his chest heaving as he avoided eye contact with you.
"No..." he muttered between breaths. "We shouldn't..."
"What? Why not?"
Mingi bit his lower lip in frustration and ran his fingers through his hair. He racked his brain for the proper justification, but he just couldn't come up with anything.
"I... I can't explain."
You huffed in frustration. "You can't keep using that as an excuse, Mingi—"
"Please don't be mad," he interrupted you. "It's just... Can you just trust me when I say we shouldn't?"
"You, the guy with a gun? You want me to trust you?"
"Please."
You took a step away from Mingi. You pushed your hair out of your face and avoided eye contact with him. You were filled with frustration and anger at that point, but you knew that arguing with him was pointless.
"Fine," you finally bit out. "Whatever."
With that, you stormed off to your room and slammed the door behind you.
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You and Mingi were walking on eggshells around each other the days following. The two of you couldn't be in the same room after that night. You weren't mad at Mingi anymore, but you didn't want to be anywhere near him because you were still so frustrated with him. That, and every time you were in a room with each other, the sexual tension shot through the roof.
Mingi was on the phone one night when you entered the living room wearing nothing but a robe. You just finished your shower, but you had yet to put clothes on because you needed to find your headband before you could start your night routine.
"Alright, sounds good," Mingi spoke quietly, his eyes tracking your every movement as you searched the living room.
He hung up and continued to watch you warily, his eyes locking on you every single time you bent over to search.
"What are you looking for?" he asked.
"My headband," you responded.
You started searching between the sofa cushions for the headband— the same sofa that Mingi was sitting on. Mingi refused to move as you continued to search, irritating you further. He was sitting right on one of the cracks. You stood in front of him and frowned at him when you realized that there was no way in hell he was going to move.
"Mingi, move," you tried ordering him even though you knew it was pointless.
Mingi's gaze hardened. You tried to move him yourself, but the second your limbs got close to him, he grabbed you and pinned you down to the couch.
"What the hell—"
"You're doing this intentionally, princess, and you know it," Mingi interrupted, his low voice sending shivers down your spine.
"I don't know what you're talking about—"
"Don't. Don't fucking try me," he interrupted again, his face lowering towards yours.
You stopped breathing when you felt more of Mingi's body weight on you the closer he pressed himself to you. His knee pushed right between your legs, and his nose brushed against your jawline before he buried his face in the nook of your neck while inhaling deeply. Your entire body trembled when you felt his sensual breath on your neck.
"Mingi," you uttered when he let go of your arms so he could wrap his around you. "You better not be teasing me..."
"You think I would be teasing you right now?" he exhaled shakily.
"After what happened last time? Yes, I do."
Mingi stopped. He moved up and locked eyes with you, and you saw the deep, dark lust swirling in his eyes. Your heart thudded wildly against your chest when you saw the way he was looking at you. He wanted you the same way you wanted him, and there was no way he was going to push you away the same way he did last time.
Rather than continue in the living room, Mingi lifted you up and carried you to your bedroom. He laid you down in your bed and untied your robe, revealing your bare body. He once again buried his face in your neck, but this time he cupped your breasts, his large hand massaging your breasts as he left soft kisses all over your neck. You moaned slightly as held onto his shoulders tightly, your body beginning to writhe beneath him.
"Mingi," you whimpered in a hushed tone.
"Yes, princess?" Mingi murmured into your skin.
You didn't know what to say— part of you wanted to beg him for more, but he was barely doing anything, so you wanted to beg him to just fuck you already, but you knew that he wasn't going to just do as you asked so quickly. You settled for cupping his face and bringing him to meet your gaze briefly before locking lips gently with him.
He kissed you gently at first, meeting the same energy, but when you brought your knee up between his legs, his breathing hitched, and he kissed you a lot more forcefully. You moved your hands to the back of his neck and held on tightly as you found yourself getting swept away in Mingi's barrage of kisses.
As his lips ravished yours, Mingi's hand moved from your breast down between your legs. His fingernails scratched along your folds before he teased your cunt by barely sinking a singular finger into your cunt. You rolled your hips upwards the second you felt his fingers prod into you, making him withdraw his fingers— he was teasing you again. You whined and rolled your waist towards him impatiently.
"You're so impatient, princess," Mingi couldn't help but note with a slight snicker.
"How can I not be when this is all I've wanted for so long?" you huffed out.
Mingi's ears turned a light shade of pink briefly when he heard your words. Before you could say or do anything to poke fun at his random shyness, he thrust two of his fingers into your cunt. You gasped and held onto him even tighter when he moved his fingers in and out of you quickly, without remorse. His fingers were quite literally ruining you with the way he was curling them and ramming them deep inside you.
"F-Fuck, Mingi," you cried as you dug your nails into his skin. "S-Slow down!"
As if he was going to listen to you. Mingi added a third finger and continued with his rapid pace. You felt tension build inside you the rougher he got, and right when you felt like the tension was going to snap, he withdrew his fingers. Without missing a beat, Mingi lowered himself so that his face was between your legs. He kissed and sucked on your clit intensely before shoving his three fingers inside you again, overstimulating you completely. You cried loudly as you came, your cunt fluttering as you squirted.
Despite you cumming, the man kept going. He flicked his tongue rapidly against your clit and continued to fuck you with his fingers. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you pushed your head back into your bed and let yourself go completely. You came again, the force making not only your legs but your entire body tremble.
You were only seeing stars in your vision when Mingi finally stopped. You did your best to blink them away as you felt him move away from you. You were barely able to see clearly when he knelt before you and started stripping himself down. He took off his shirt to reveal his defined chest and the abs that you saw the very first time you met him. The wound that was on his waist had actually healed quite nicely, barely leaving a scar on his body. You couldn't help but reach for his waist and trail your finger along the area that he injured.
"W-What is it?" he asked, his voice trembling a little.
"The wound..." you muttered.
Your eyes slowly moved from gazing at the faint injury to his face. His eyes were still intense, but there was a small smile on his face— a smile that quickly turned into a smirk. His hands reached for your waist, and before long, you were sitting up. He slid the open robe off your shoulders, leaving kisses along your newly exposed skin as he did so. He trailed the kisses from your shoulder down your arm until the robe was completely off you, and he took your fingers into his mouth as he threw the robe off the bed. Your limbs tingled when you felt him suck on your fingers, the pressure making you feel pleasure that you'd never felt before— which was crazy considering that all he was doing was merely sucking your fingers.
When Mingi took your fingers out of his mouth, he sat back on his heels and undid his pants. Your eyes widened when you saw him pull out the most massive cock you had ever seen. His cock was rock hard, throbbing and twitching with every breath he took. He quickly removed his pants entirely and tossed them aside before reaching for your hand and guiding it to his cock. His cock seemed even more massive in your hand, and you were so dumbstruck by it that the man had no choice but to guide your hand up and down his length.
"Don't be scared, princess," you heard him chuckle in a low tone. "I promise I won't hurt you."
As his hand continued to guide yours, his other hand reached for your neck and brought your face closer to his. He pressed his fingers into the sides of your neck gently and kissed you sloppily but passionately, his tongue infiltrating your mouth. You were on cloud nine with the way he was squeezing your neck just right and kissing you over and over again. Your brain was melting the longer he kissed you, and when he stopped, you nearly whimpered. You looked at him desperately, and when you saw the smirk reappear on his face, you knew that he was definitely not going to leave you disappointed.
Mingi laid down on the bed so that his back was pressed against the headboard. He moved you so that you were straddling him, your hands holding onto his shoulders. You felt him rubbing his cock along your ass, the sheer size of his cock making you more nervous with every passing second.
"Are, uh... Are you sure this is the best way to start?" you whispered, your nerves starting to make your body tense.
"Trust me, princess. I know what I'm doing," Mingi replied in a hushed tone, his lips near your ear as he leaned towards you.
The sound of his low voice in your ear made you shiver. Holding your waist, Mingi moved you up before taking his cock and lining it up with your entrance. As soon as you felt the tip of his cock press through your cunt, you exhaled through your teeth, only for that exhale to get cut off by a loud cry when Mingi pushed down on your waist.
"Mingi— Fuck! Y-You're too big!" you sobbed when you felt his cock fill you up to the point where you felt like he already hit your cervix.
"Just breathe, princess," he said calmly as he brushed your hair out of your face. "Relax for me, okay?"
You exhaled slowly, and your body relaxed slightly. You remained seated on Mingi's cock as your grip on his shoulders loosened, his cock throbbing inside you. Leaning towards you, Mingi peppered kisses along your neck and chest, his hands rubbing your waist, hips, and thighs.
"Good, princess... Now, start moving when you're ready, okay?"
You pressed your lips together and nodded. Taking a slow breath, you slowly and barely started moving your waist up and down, the length and girth of his cock a little too much for you to handle on your own. You couldn't help but let out a little cry every time you moved, his cock somehow seeming to get bigger with every movement you made.
Mingi's hands moved to cup your ass, and he assisted you. He moved you on his cock, making you cry louder when you felt the impact of your ass on his thighs and his cock ramming deep inside you whenever he pushed you down with force. The more he had to move you, though, the more frustrated the man got. After making you ride his cock for another solid ten seconds or so, he suddenly flipped you so that your back was pressed against the mattress.
Without a moment to lose, Mingi lowered his body so that your breasts were barely grazing his chest as he rolled his waist into yours. You wrapped your arms and legs around him, your nails digging into the skin on his back as his thrusts got stronger. Your entire body lurched with every slam of his pelvis against yours, and you choked on sobs and whimpers whenever you felt his cock reach deep inside you.
As painful as it was, you didn't want him to stop for even a second because it also felt that fucking good. The way his cock would graze your cervix which each thrust made you more and more excited, and it made the knot in your stomach get tighter and tighter.
"Fuck, princess," Mingi hissed through grit teeth. "You're so fucking tight. You feel so— Fuck!— So fucking good... Your cunt was just made for me, wasn't it, princess?"
Tears blurred your eyes, and one slipped out when you shut your eyes tightly and cried loudly in agreement. You couldn't even bother trying to come up with coherent words as Mingi literally fucked all of the thoughts out of your brain with his intense thrusts. You didn't think they would remain as intense when he started moving faster, but you were sorely mistaken— Mingi was strong and powerful no matter what his pace was.
Mingi bit his lower lip as he moved up. He grasped and pulled on your breasts as his waist moved rapidly, the sounds of your skin making contact over and over again filling up the room along with the squeaks of your worn bedsprings and the two of you moaning and groaning. The room got hotter, and you felt Mingi's sweat start to dot your skin when he dropped his head to watch the way your cunt swallowed his fat dick.
Honestly, just the sight of your sore red pussy was enough to make the man cum, but he held back as long as he possibly could. It was when he suddenly rammed his cock as far deep inside you as he could did he hit your cervix and make you cream around his cock, subsequently making him cum because your cunt got so tight that he thought you were going to snap it off. He grabbed your waist and rammed his cock deep inside you one final time before groaning loudly and filling you up with his cum.
The two of you were panting heavily by the time your highs wore off. Mingi's cock was still throbbing inside you by the time you caught your breath and blinked the blurriness out of your eyes, only for that blurriness to return when you felt him start to pull out, the friction of his cock inside your cunt making you feel good all over again.
"Fuck, princess," Mingi winced then chuckled when he felt your cunt tighten up. "Do that again, and I'll be forced to fuck you all night."
You locked eyes with him when he said that, and you pulled him closer to you before he could pull out completely. You kissed him sensually and left a tiny bite on his lower lip, slightly startling the man before you whispered, "Fuck me all night, then. I want you to ruin me, Mingi."
Mingi kissed you again as he pushed his cock all the way inside you once more. He smirked against your lips in between kisses.
"Your wish is my command, princess."
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The next day was extremely weird. When you woke up, Mingi wasn't in bed with you— sure, he didn't have to sleep in the same bed as you after the two of you slept together for the first time, but considering that the two of you stayed in your tiny apartment together, it was weird that he wasn't there next to you. That, however, was not the weirdest part of that morning.
You barely made it out of bed and stumbled into the living room to see that Mingi wasn't on the couch either. Actually, there was no trace of him living in your living room at all or in your entire apartment for that matter. Your jaw dropped as you realized that Mingi was not only not in the apartment, but he and the very little belongings he had completely vanished.
You searched your entire freaking apartment for any sign of him or at least a clue as to where he had gone, but there was nothing in sight. Mingi had disappeared as if he was never there in the first place, leaving you confused, angry, and sad.
Sure, he was a mafia boss, and he owed you no explanation, but how could he just leave you like that? Especially after the way the two of you spent the night prior, why did he just leave you like that?
In the days following, you tried to see if you could figure out where he had disappeared to, but you couldn't. There was no way you were going to be able to track down that man. Just as randomly as he entered your life, he left it as well, and you had to somehow make your peace with that.
Yet, you couldn't help but miss him. You couldn't help but miss the man that held the gun to your head and threatened to kill you, the man that spent so much fucking time with you over the past several weeks, the man you accidentally fell in love with. Fuck. How the hell were you going to make peace with that?
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Fire on the Mountain - Chapter One
Pairing: Otto Hightower (House of the Dragon) x OFC (Lia Costayne) Warnings: Canon typical death and mild angst. Word count: ~8.4k
Chapter summary: Lia suffers bitter disappointment at the king's tourney, and finds herself uncertain of her future in the wake of an unexpected shift in dynamic.
Series masterlist
Author's note: Header by @vampire-exgirlfriend who also beta read this for me - this story would be nothing without you. Thank you for the care and attention you have put in both myself and my writing. I love you.
The wheels of the carriage squeaked and rattled over the bumpy roads of King’s Landing, accompanied by the thumping of the horses’ hooves that pulled them towards their destination. Lia shifted uncomfortably, repositioning against the plush cushions that she sat upon. It was not the instability of their short journey towards the Dragonpit that irked her, however.
Click. Click. Click.
She cast her gaze down towards Alicent’s fingers, the sound of her nails moving against her skin was audible even over the din of the wheelhouse. The flesh was red, raw and bloodied, and Lia had to force herself to suppress the way her lips attempted to curl in disgust, instead leaning forward to place her own hand over top of Alicent’s, squeezing gently, a comforting gesture that halted her friend’s nervous habit.
Alicent smiled softly at her, but Lia could tell from the way she lowered her eyes that she was embarrassed at having been caught outwardly expressing her anxiety. Lia could not help but pity her, she had plenty to feel worried about herself, but had never allowed it to manifest itself in such an unseemly manner.  House Costayne was sworn to the Hightowers, and so it was no question that Lia, youngest daughter of Lord Owen Costyane, would serve as a companion to Lady Alicent, the young daughter of the Hand of the King. Whisked away from the Whispering Sound at the age of six, the two years in Oldtown had been extraordinary—the largest port in the Reach, full of bustling excitement and things to see, all temptations to a precocious and formerly sheltered little girl. When King Viserys took the throne, Lord Otto called his daughter to the capital to be a companion to the young princess and of course, Lia joined as part of Alicent's household.
At the age of fourteen, she had spent more of her life away from her family than with them. They were leagues away, and the memory of the castle in which she was born was but a distant memory. The silver chalice and black rose that adorned the Costayne House sigil felt more tangible to her than the faces of either her mother or father.
She could not pretend that she had suffered in their absence though; she had had every luxury she could ever desire at her disposal, and though her family were far away, at least they still lived. Alicent had suffered through the loss of her mother, and had to keep her composure through all of it. The royal court was no place for the weeping and wailing of a young girl. Lia supposed that if she had been forced to endure that, then she would likely have taken to picking her nails bloody too.
The death of Alyrie Florent had brought Lia and Alicent closer together, and with it their shared bond with Princess Rhaenyra had blossomed too. Lia helped to bring Alicent out of her shell, allowing her an outlet for behaviours that were otherwise considered unseemly for a young lady at court; they gossiped, laughed loudly, and did so with the unspoken bond of secrecy that runs like an invisible thread through the fabric of friendship. Alicent had a calming influence on both Lia and Rhaenyra, serving as the voice of reason that helped to keep them out of trouble–most of the time. Oftentimes, it would take but a look from Alicent for both girls to know they had gone too far, a trait she had doubtless inherited from her father. It had taken just a simple widening of those big brown eyes to halt Lia and Rhaenyra’s ascent up through the branches of the Heart Tree in the Godswood; a foolish attempt to gain a vantage point in order to spy through the higher windows of the Red Keep, that would likely have resulted in broken limbs. Rhaenyra shared Alicent’s knowledge of propriety, though not her love of it, and the wild, adventurous side of her played well with Lia’s, her status as The Realm’s Delight allowing them a margin more leniency than most would be afforded. 
The three girls were inseparable, yet in the unwavering foundations of their bond, Lia had never felt more uncertain about her own future. Otto clearly had plans for Alicent, and Rhaenyra’s comfort was secured in her position as the King’s daughter, however, no such fate awaited Lia. She was every bit the spare part, aware of the fact that her destiny is one she will have to build on her own. As such, she delights in being Otto’s confidant, sharing news of the movements of Rhaenyra and Alicent in exchange for his favour. It had begun innocently enough, a fatherly figure taking an interest where the patriarch of her own family was unable to. She had taken pride in recounting her lessons to him, beaming up at him with girlish exuberance as he had listened carefully, amusement glittering in his eyes. It had never occurred to her that he had any ulterior motive, and so the unspoken vow of secrecy she afforded Alicent slipped in front of her father, allowing him to be privy to the gossip they indulged in and the adventures that they embarked upon with Rhaenyra within the walls of the Red Keep. As Lia had grown older, she had started to suspect that Otto’s questions served a deeper purpose than simple interest, however, it did not deter her; acting as a confidant to the King’s Hand would not be without its advantages. She hoped that when the time was right, the loyalty of both her and her family would not be forgotten.
The wheelhouse pulled to a shuddering stop just outside of the Dragonpit, and Lia moved to push the door open, stopping as they were plunged into sudden darkness. A forceful gust of air shook the carriage. They had arrived just in time for Rhaenyra’s return on Syrax. Lia and Alicent hovered apprehensively by the door, waiting until they heard their friend’s dragon thump heavily against the earth, before tentatively peeking out. Lia was brave enough to descend the small set of wooden steps to the ground below, while Alicent opted to remain in the safety of the wheelhouse, standing in its doorway.
She could not help but feel envious of Rhaenyra, watching as she slid gracefully from the back of her golden dragon, pulling her riding gloves off with her teeth, staring up at the great beast in admiration as it was coaxed back to the pit by the dragon keepers. Lia longed for the sense of adventure and freedom that the princess experienced high above the clouds of King’s Landing, the walls of the Red Keep felt as much a cage as they were an extravagance at times.
Though as Rhaenyra drew closer, the sulfurous stench of dragon radiating from her leathers, Lia wrinkled her nose in repulsion, deciding that if she were to experience freedom then she certainly had no desire for it to be atop the back of a dragon.
“Syrax is growing quickly,” Alicent commented, nodding towards the dragon’s retreating form. “She will soon be as large as Caraxes.”
“That’s almost large enough to saddle two,” Rhaenyra replied with a grin.
“I believe I am quite content as a spectator, thank you,” Alicent quipped, the gentle smile reserved only for Rhaenyra spreading across her mouth.
“And you?” Rhaenyra regarded Lia with a raise of her eyebrow.
“I prefer to keep both my feet firmly on the ground, I am afraid.”
Rhaenyra tutted. “Cowards, both of you,” she jested, stomping up the carriage steps.
The three of them huddled together on the same seat on the way back to the castle, talking excitedly about which knights they expected to be in attendance for the tourney being hosted by King Viserys in honour of the impending birth of Queen Aemma’s second child.
Their laughter carried through the Keep’s corridors as the three of them walked back towards Rhaenyra’s chambers, linked arm in arm, Rhaenyra sandwiched between Alicent and Lia.
While Alicent and Lia reclined comfortably on couches, nibbling on candied lemon slices, Rhaenyra went to change out of her riding gear. The two exchanged a surprised glance as she reappeared in a yellow gown, much too quickly to have bathed. Lia could not imagine being allowed to conduct herself at court smelling quite so pungent; it was a privilege only afforded to royalty. Her and Alicent had to always present themselves as clean and well groomed, a necessity that Lia did not mind at all. She was well aware of her own beauty, and took a level of care with her appearance that bordered upon outright vanity. She would never dream of being seen outside of her chambers without her long, dark curls having been meticulously brushed and styled. Whereas Rhaenyra, Lia often thought, could have been mistaken for one of the scullery maids were it not for the finery she dressed it. She was lucky she was pretty.
Rhaenyra swept into the Queen’s apartments, leaving her friends to stand awkwardly in the doorway, looking in on the queen and her ladies. They both greeted Aemma courteously, and she responded with a polite hello and a strained smile. 
A sense of unease crept over Lia’s flesh at the sight of Aemma, fanning herself as she lay on the settee by the open balcony windows. She looked more uncomfortable every time she saw her. It was not a state she wished for herself, though it was an inevitability. Such was the role of a woman, though Lia hoped her fate would be one more fortunate; she was all too aware of the fruitless pregnancies that Aemma had endured prior to this one.
“Take a bath, you stink of dragon,” Aemma gently scolded her daughter.
Lia bowed her head, concealing the way her lips curved upwards in amusement, suddenly pretending that the golden stitching of her ivory coloured gown was the most interesting thing in the world. She kept her blue eyes fixed upon the cuff of her sleeve, her fingers absentmindedly fiddling with the delicate golden rings upon the fingers of her left hand. At last, someone was saying it aloud. A statement only a queen could get away with saying to a princess.
Rhaenyra ignored her mother, settling beside her. “Did you sleep?”
“I slept.”
The princess huffed. “How long?”
“I don’t need mothering, Rhaenyra.”
“Well, here you are, surrounded by attendants all focused on the babe. Someone has to attend to you.”
“You will lie in this bed soon enough, Rhaenyra. This discomfort is how we serve the realm.” The queen’s voice was tired, though of the pregnancy or of this oft repeated conversation, Lia could not tell.
“I’d rather serve as a knight and ride to battle and glory.”
“We have royal wombs, you and I. The child bed is our battlefield. We must learn to face it with a stiff lip.”
Lia lost herself in her thoughts as Rhaenyra conversed with her mother, continuing to twist the rings upon her fingers and shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot, as her mind conjured scenarios she would prefer not to dwell upon. She wished for a secure position in life, but did not want to be confined to the birthing bed. She longed for power, to have authority, over herself, surely, and perhaps over others, yet did not share the princess’ desire to fight in battle. Her days of climbing trees and skinned knees were well behind her.
She was roused from her thoughts as Rhaenyra hurried past her.
“Where are you going?” Alicent called after her.
“I am late!” She replied over her shoulder, running in the direction of the Small Council chamber.
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Lia propped herself up on her elbow, lying on her side as she watched Alicent carefully stitch delicate powder blue flowers into the fabric suspended within her embroidery hoop. Her own lay discarded beside her, she had given up when the thread had become knotted, in no mood to attempt to fix it.
“Alicent…” she began slowly, “do you ever think about why your father wanted to bring you to King’s Landing?”
Alicent kept her eyes upon her needlepoint, her tone matter of fact as she continued her work. “To instruct me in what is expected of a highborn lady.”
Lia huffed, leaning across and tugging Alicent’s sleeve to get her full attention. “Yes, but why?”
The other girl sighed, lowering her embroidery hoop into her lap and fixing Lia with an exasperated stare. “To give me the best possible opportunities in life, so that an appropriate match may be made for me.”
“And that is enough for you, is it? To simply be married off to a man who is not of your choosing?”
She lowered her gaze, her voice soft. “My mother did not choose my father, and yet they were very happy.”
“But is that what you want?”
“What is it that you are trying to get at?”
Lia hummed, flopping down onto her back against the plush rug that they sat upon in the solar, clasping her hands across her front as she stared up at the vaulted ceiling. “I am unsure of my own purpose, what it is that I want.”
Alicent nodded in understanding. “Well, there will be plenty of eligible knights at the upcoming tourney. Gwayne is going to be there,; he is competing in the jousting.”
She scoffed, recalling the gangly boy of ten, a mop of hair the colour of rust, that they had left behind in Oldtown all those years ago. “Ah, yes, how fares your older brother?” she asked, turning her head to the side to look at her friend.
“He is a knight now,” Alicent said proudly, “and quite handsome too.”
“Handsome?! How would you know?”
“He tells me so in his letters.”
The pair burst into peals of laughter, stopping abruptly as Otto stalked into the room, casting a disapproving glance at both of them. “Do the pair of you not have lessons to attend this afternoon?”
“We were waiting for Rhaenyra, so that we might all go together,” Alicent said apologetically, scrambling to her feet and smoothing the skirts of her dress down.
Lia rolled her eyes, knowing their fun was over, and rose to her feet too, running her fingers through her dark curls, rumpled from having laid upon the floor.
“Well, the Small Council has concluded its business for the day, and with it Rhaenyra’s duties as cupbearer, so run along. Do not keep your septa waiting.”
“Yes, Father,” Alicent said quietly, making her way out of the solar. The skirts of her pale blue gown swished behind her, the cascade of her auburn hair down back appearing as Autumnal leaves against a cloudless sky.
Lia readied to follow suit when Otto reached out, gently grasping her forearm and halting her movements. “I trust you are behaving yourselves?”
“Always,” she said with a saccharine smile, moving to pull away from him.
He tightened his grasp, and Lia lifted her eyes to meet The Hand’s, his gaze steely and unblinking, apparently unaffected by the mischief that glittered within her own. “The Princess is…spirited. Do not allow her to lead you or Alicent astray.”
She slipped away from him, pausing once in the corridor to look back over her shoulder at him. “You have raised a well mannered young woman, Ser Otto. She will heed your wishes, though I cannot say the same for myself.”
Lia did not know why, but she had always enjoyed testing how far she could push Otto Hightower. He seemed to have more patience for her misdeeds than that of Alicent’s, and there was a certain thrill to watching his features pinch into annoyance. Perhaps it was because she allowed him to be privy to the secrets of her and her two friends, and he did not wish to sever that connection with too harsh a scolding for misbehaviour. She still remembered when he had taken it upon himself to instruct her in the art of handwriting, claiming that hers looked as though “a spider had fallen into the inkwell and then scurried across the page.” She had taken her quill and flicked the end at him, watching as spots of black had splattered across his doublet. He had scowled, snatching up her wrist, but then she giggled. His grip on her had loosened and his expression had softened. If she did not know him better, she would have sworn she saw the ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
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Rhaenyra did not turn up for lessons, leaving Lia and Alicent to endure the presence of the stern Septa Marlow without her. Lia would not have minded, except for the fact that that day’s lesson was history, her least favourite subject. She endured a scolding for not remembering that Princess Nymeria departed Rhoyne for Dorne, and by the time the hour was over she felt tired and irritable.
Alicent had always been more studious than she was, her ability to focus surpassing Lia’s, who was far too easily distracted by the world around her. The comings and goings of the Red Keep’s staff was far more interesting to her than what was contained within any book. She preferred to focus on the whisperings found within darkened alcoves of the castle, than the monotonous drone of Septa Marlow.
“Come,” Alicent said, pulling a thick historical tome from the library shelf. “We shall study in the Godswood, the fresh air will help you to remember.” There was no heat in the subtly pointed look she directed at Lia, so she followed without complaint, merely returning a glare of her own.
They had been seated beneath the heart tree in the Godswood not five minutes when Rhaenyra arrived, quickly settling herself between them, as was her customary place within the confines of their group. She placed her head in Alicent’s lap, and her legs across Lia’s, letting out a sigh as she gazed up at the clear blue sky through the branches of the tree.
“You did not attend lessons today,” Alicent said to her, hefting the book onto the grass beside her.
“I did not,” Rhaenyra replied simply.
Lia spied the Valyrian steel and ruby necklace that now rested around Rhaenyra’s neck. It had not been there earlier. She leant over, lifting the pendant delicately between two fingers.
“A gift from your father?”
Rhaenyra furrowed her brow, as though she found the idea ridiculous. “A gift from Daemon.”
“He’s back then?” Lia’s interest is piqued. Daemon had never paid her much attention. As a ward of House Hightower, she was of no consequence to him. However, he was endlessly fascinating to her; his volatility and reckless behaviour served an endless supply of gossip.
“Mmmm,” she hummed, “to take up his position as Lord Commander of the City Watch, and compete in the tourney.”
“And give you gifts,” Lia teased with a smirk, letting the pendant drop softly back against Rhaenyra’s clavicle before settling back against her palms upon the grass.
A look of worry flickered across Rhaenyra’s face, her mouth turning downwards as her gaze grew distant. She studied her fingers for a moment, then asked “So what did I miss today?”
“History,” Lia said bitterly, “Princess Nymeria’s escape from Rhoyne.”
“Have you read it?” Alicent asked her.
“Of course I have read it,” Rhaenyra said, “there was no need for me to be there.”
“Then when Princess Nymeria arrived in Dorne, who did she take to husband?” Alicent silenced Lia as she opened her mouth to answer. “Not you, you actually turned up today,” 
Rhaenyra groused, shrugging her shoulders as she continued to lay across their laps. “A man.”
Alicent scowled, her tone clipped with annoyance. “And what was his name?”
“Lord something,” Rhaenyra replied petulantly.
“Gods, if only you had been there today,” Lia giggled, “you would have made me look good. Septa Marlow was furious.”
Rhaenyra smirked, playing with the rings upon her fingers. “She is funny when she is furious.”
“You are always like this when you are worried,” Alicent commented softly.
“Like what?” snapped Rhaenyra.
Alicent did not hedge her words, the only one to speak to their princess in this way. “Disagreeable. You are worried your father is about to overshadow you with a son.”
“I only worry for my mother. I hope for my father that he gets a son. As long as I can recall, it is all he has wanted.”
“You want him to have a son?” Lia asked.
“I want to fly with you both on dragonback, see the great wonders across the Narrow Sea, and eat only cake.”
Lia snorted as Alicent clicked her tongue. Lia did not mind the idea of seeing the great wonders, or existing solely on cake, however, the notion of taking flight on Syrax made the prospect seem far less exciting.
“We are trying to be serious,” Alicent protested, glancing warily at Lia, “well, at least I am.”
“I never jest about cake,” Rhaenyra said with a smirk.
“You are not worried about your position?” Lia asked, her curiosity piqued, masking the envy she felt that Rhaenyra possessed a position that could be threatened in the first place.
“I like this position,” she told Lia, wiggling her feet in her lap, making her laugh aloud, “it is quite comfortable.”
“Rhaenyra! Lia! It is impossible to have a serious conversation with either of you!”
The princess groaned, moving out of their laps and sitting cross legged in front of them. “Princess Nymeria led her Rhoynar across the Narrow Sea on ten thousand ships to flee their Valyrian pursuers. She took Lord Mors Martell of Dorne to husband and burned her own fleet off Sunspear to show her people that they were finished running.”
Lia raised her eyebrows, impressed by her knowledge, glancing over at Alicent to gauge her reaction. Before Alicent could respond, Rhaenyra leaned across and tore the page free from the book, letting it flutter into Alicent’s lap.
“So you remember.”
Alicent chewed her lip nervously. “If Septa Marlow sees this book–”
“Fuck the septa!” Rhaenyra interrupted.
Not for the first time, Lia felt envy burn acrid in her chest. Only a princess could get away with defacing a book from the Crown library and not have to suffer the consequences. She wondered if Rhaenyra had any awareness of the power she yielded over both her and Alicent. And if she was aware, would she even care?
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Lia meandered through the halls, slippered feet quiet on the stone floor as she made her way to the library the next da She looked up, her attention stolen by Otto walking in the direction of the Small Council chambers. Changing course, she fell into step beside him, taking in the way his features were furrowed into annoyance. There could be only one explanation for it.
“So, you have heard that Prince Daemon has returned to the Capital?” she asked with a wry smile.
Otto paused, eyeing her carefully before ushering her into a nearby alcove. “What do you know?”
Lia shrugged. “Little and less. He gifted Rhaenyra a necklace, Valyrian steel.”
“An empty gesture,” he remarked bitterly, an exasperated sigh escaping him as he adjusted the collar of his forest green doublet. He cast a cursory glance over his shoulder to ensure they were not being watched, before fixing her with a heated stare.
“Oh, I am not so sure, you would be surprised at what people are willing to share if one is generous.” She reached up, tapping the bronzed hand that was pinned to his breast, as if to punctuate her point.
Otto’s much larger hand clutched hers, enveloping it, though it did not pull hers away. Her eyes shifted to where their hands now rested upon his chest, the gesture stirring something within her that she could not quite identify, filling her with both warmth and unease.
“I know a girl as clever as you cannot be swayed by trinkets,” he said softly, the low timbre of his voice vibrating through their connected hands.
Lia swallowed thickly, slowly pulling her hand back and letting it drop to her side, though still able to feel the place where his palm had rested. She felt an overwhelming need to push back against whatever had transpired, and so doubled her efforts to be cheeky. “If you are not feeling generous, perhaps Prince Daemon may have additional trinkets to spare.”
Otto straightened, his expression turning stony.
There it was, the annoyance that she felt much more at home with.
“You should not covet the actions of that brute of a man. Keep away from him.” He glared down at her, a silent warning before leaving her alone in the alcove, as he continued on his way.
Lia smiled to herself. Provoking Otto suddenly seemed much more appealing to her. If she could capture the interest of Daemon, then perhaps the Hand of the King would be more forthcoming in furthering her position at court, and making clear his plans for her.
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“My dearest Lia, 
It is with deep regret that I must inform you that your mother and I will be unable to attend the King’s tourney. Your mother is suffering a fever and we did not wish to risk the journey to King’s Landing when our efforts must be spent upon ensuring her recovery. Your mother has requested that your brothers stay here at the Whispering Sound, as she fears her worry over them both competing will worsen her condition.
We have passed along our apologies to the Lord Hand, however, please send him my regards. I hope that life in the capital is treating you well and that you are behaving as befits the royal company that you keep.
Warmest wishes,
Your loving father, Lord Owen Costayne”
Lia gripped the parchment tightly between her fingers, having lost count of the number of times she had read it since it was brought to her by the maester two days prior. She lost herself in the words, the din of hoofbeats and roar of spectators fading to nothing as her eyes flitted between the letter and the lists, as though if she concentrated hard enough she could will her brothers into attendance.
Rhaenyra sat beside her, equally morose, her brow pinched in worry. Shortly after the tourney began, King Viserys had announced to all in attendance that Queen Aemma had begun her labours. It was obvious that Rhaenyra would rather be at her mother’s side than watching this display. However, it had not been allowed.
Sitting on the other side of Rhaenyra, Alicent had picked her nails bloody once more. A combination of worry for both the Queen and her older brother, Gwayne, who would be competing in the tourney.
Lia crumpled the parchment between her fingers, stowing it up her sleeve as she leaned forward, looking out across their elevated position on the stands, eager for a distraction.
“Who is that?” she asked, nodding towards a young man she did not recognise.
“The Tarly squire?” Rhaenyra responded, clearly as keen to focus on something else as she was.
“Mmhmm,” Lia affirmed, glancing back at her.
“Lord Massey’s son, I think. He is promised to Elinor Stokeworth, they are to be married as soon as he wins his knighthood.”
“Best get on with it,” Alicent chimed in, leaning forward conspiratorially, “I heard that Lady Elinor is hiding a swollen belly beneath her dress.”
Lia and Rhaenyra gasped, the three of them quickly falling into fits of giggles, though she was pulled out of her mirth when she felt a firm hand upon her shoulder. Looking back, she saw Otto seated directly behind her. He leaned in close enough that both his breath and his beard tickled softly at the shell of her ear as he spoke quietly, isolating her from the huddle of her two friends.
“I thought you might offer your favour to Gwayne.”
She pulled back, regarding him impassively, before speaking much louder than he had to her. “Actually, I intend to offer my favour to Prince Daemon,” she said with an amused smirk, “I have not yet had the pleasure to welcome him back to the capital.”
Otto’s nostrils flared in obvious annoyance, his gaze unblinking as he exhaled heavily, sitting back against his seat beside the King, though his focus remained upon her. His eyes raked carefully over the delicate manner in which she had pinned up her ringlets, revealing the slender slope of her neck. Lia suppressed a laugh as she turned back towards Rhaenyra and Alicent, pleased with her efforts, and the three of them continued to share gossip about those participating in the lists.
She eyed the knights carefully, wondering to herself if any of them would be a suitable match for her. There was no denying that Daemon cut every bit the imposing and extravagant figure, the plume of his dragon shaped helmet blood red and striking against the grey of the stone walls. It was a pity he was already wed, albeit unhappily, to Lady Rhea Royce. Daemon’s presence within King’s Landing had always been so sporadic, coupled with Lia’s being too young to appreciate what a handsome man he was, that she supposed he was never destined to be a suitor for her anyway. A pity, but it would not stop her from expressing interest, if only to incite the look of irritation on Otto’s face that she had grown to enjoy so much.
So engrossed in what was going on, she did not notice when King Viserys slipped away from his seat. Daemon rode towards the stands, a cocky grin upon his face as her, Rhaenyra and Alicent rushed to the railing to greet him.
“Lady Lia,” he drawled with a courteous nod, “a fine young woman you are growing into.”
She felt her skin flush at the compliment, glad of the fact she had opted to wear her house colours for the occasion; she knew that the gold and black of the gown complimented her complexion. It was an effort to resist the urge to both giggle and look behind her for Otto’s reaction.
“You flatter me, my prince,” she responded sweetly, “I wish you luck, though I am not sure you will need it.”
“I am confident that I can best my opponent, but I would ask for the favour of the Lady Alicent Hightower to ensure my victory.”
Lia’s face fell, her heart sinking in disappointment. She watched Alicent move sheepishly back towards their seats, meeting her father’s eye as she took the intricately woven band of flowers and ribbon. She knew from Otto’s sour expression that it was merely a ploy from Daemon to further upset the King’s Hand, having already beaten his son spectacularly in the lists. However, the rejection stung all the same. She wanted it to be her favour that Daemon had asked for.
As she took her seat again, she grasped her own hoop of feathers and twine, half turning to toss it haphazardly into Otto’s lap. “Here, you might as well have it,” she muttered sullenly, “I have no one else to give it to.”
Misery clung to Lia like a black shroud as she leaned back in her seat, visibly sulking and crossing her arms, as she watched the tourney, but did not really see it. She had hoped that the day would prosper a potential match for her, though, with Alicent’s favour already given away, Rhaenyra was her only rival. There was no way she could compete with a princess.
Her lips twitched with smug satisfaction when the mystery knight with the red and black spotted shield bested Daemon; a small retribution in Lia’s eyes for having snubbed her favour for Alicent’s. She did not bother to join her friends when they rushed back to the railing, both eager to greet the man who managed to unhorse The Rogue Prince, not even swayed by Alicent’s gasp of “he’s Dornish.” What was the point? She saw the way his dark eyes glittered with interest, but it was not interest directed at her; no, they glittered only for Rhaenyra. 
Lia knew that she could be the most comely of maidens in all of the Seven Kingdoms and it would do little to sway a suitor when presented with a Targaryen Princess. She could not help the jealousy that swirled like a maelstrom inside of her as she watched Rhaenyra throw her favour down towards him.
The smile that graced the princess’ fair features as she returned to her seat only faltered as Otto touched her delicately on the shoulder, the colour draining from her face as he whispered to her. As the news spread throughout the royal box, Lia’s eyes remained fixated upon the floor of the stands where her favour now lay, trampled under foot as people rushed back towards the Red Keep. It was crushed, and with it her hopes for the day.
Queen Aemma was dead.
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The wind whipped Lia’s dark curls around her face as she stood upon the clifftop, the bite of the icy sea breeze nipping at her cheeks. The wrapped bodies of both Aemma and her short lived son, Baelon, laid prone upon the pyre that stood before the modest crowd gathered for the funeral. Syrax looked over them from her perch, awaiting Rhaenyra’s command, her neck undulating with discomfort under the feeling of her rider’s grief.
She could not imagine a more brutal death; cut open like livestock in the birthing bed, and for naught. The babe that had been tugged from the Queen’s womb had lived but for a few hours after her passing. Her heart ached for Rhaenyra, who choked on the command of “drakarys!”, the word faltering with unshed tears as she ordered her dragon to engulf her deceased mother and brother in flames.
Lia knew she felt pity for Rhaenyra, but was she truly sad that Aemma was dead? She did not know. She knew it was proper to express condolences, but she did not think she was experiencing grief. Would she feel sadness at her own mother’s passing? She was as much an acquaintance to her as the Queen had been, considering how many years had passed since she had last seen home. It was a disquieting thought, and one she was eager to push from her mind.
She desperately wished she had a hand to hold, to squeeze for comfort, and could not help but notice the way that Alicent gripped her father’s with such intensity that her knuckles were white. Stood to the other side of him, Otto had ensured that Lia’s arm linked through his, a gesture which she found oddly mature in comparison to the childlike manner in which Alicent’s fingers entwined with his. Perhaps it is just because she is not family, she pondered, though memories of the intimacy with which he had held her hand to his chest just a few days prior linger at the back of her mind. She was being treated as though she was a lady, when she had never craved more to be comforted as though she was a little girl.
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A cavernous void opened between Lia, Alicent, and Rhaenyra in the weeks that followed, filled only by loss. Lia spent much of her time alone, not knowing how to comfort Rhaenyra in her grief, for it had made her angry. Her tone was curt whenever Lia attempted to engage her in conversation and she had withdrawn so far into herself that she did not know how to coax her back out. Deep down she knew that her friend was justified in her bitterness towards her father, for he had killed her mother in his desperate attempt for an heir, an heir that barely lived long enough to draw his first breath.
Lia wondered what her own expression of such grief would look like, had the circumstances befallen her.
Otto had become more protective of Alicent. He sought Lia’s company less often, instead looming over his only daughter like a shadow, summoning her to his quarters to speak to her of things that Alicent would not allow Lia to be privy to. In all of her years in King’s Landing, despite missing her family, she had never felt lonely. Now it was a feeling that overwhelmed her with such potency that she had picked up a quill more than a dozen times, hurriedly scrawling a plea to her father to allow her to return home. Each time she had thought better of it and tossed the balled up parchment into the fireplace. She had yet to find her purpose within King’s Landing, but she knew in her heart that her fate was not to run away like a mewling child, simply because her friends were preoccupied.
Deciding she could bear her own company no longer, Lia emerged from her quarters, seeking the comfort of a familiar face. She found it in Alicent, but as she was about to call out to her, she faltered, thinking better of it. There was something strange about the way her friend carried herself, her gaze downcast, trepidation in her step. Lia slipped into an alcove, peering out discreetly from behind the wall. Alicent was not dressed as she usually was, the royal blue gown she now wore was much too grown up. She narrowed her eyes as she studied the fabric. It was a dress that had belonged to Alyrie.
Curious to see why Alicent had suddenly taken to wearing her late mother’s clothes, Lia quietly followed behind her, mindful to keep her steps light and maintain her distance, so as not to get caught. She froze as she saw Alicent slip through the door of the king’s apartments, a feeling of dread forming a pit in her stomach. Rhaenyra had not spoken to her father properly since the passing of the queen, so what possible reason could Alicent have for keeping such close company with him?
It was with this question in mind that she stormed into Otto’s quarters the next day, a seething and lingering anger bolstering her. She did not knock, though her intrusion was met with only the slightest raise of an eyebrow by the king’s Hand as he looked up from his writing desk.
“Lia, to what do I owe the interruption?” he asked, his tone friendlier than she had been anticipating, causing her courage to waiver as her outrage quelled slightly.
She opened her mouth to speak, stammering over her words as she struggled to get them out. Why on earth was he not annoyed by her just bursting in? She had been prepared to be met with resistance, and it completely unraveled what she had planned to say. Closing her eyes and exhaling heavily, she shook her head as if to clear her mind and tried again.
“Alicent has been visiting the king.”
Otto pursed his lips, carefully placing his quill back into the ink pot, before he leaned back against his chair. “She has,” he said matter of factly, “the king is alone in his grief. Alicent has been of great comfort to him.”
Lia blinked rapidly, a wave of nausea churning her stomach, as she realised that this was not only information that the king’s Hand was already privy to, and he did not have an issue with it, but he was also the one that has arranged these visits in the first place. She narrowed her eyes as her shock and disgust turned to sudden anger, simmering hot beneath the surface of her skin.
“So it would not be an issue were I to offer him comfort also?” Lia asked, her jaw jutting out defiantly.
Finally, a flicker of annoyance passed across Otto’s face, his brow furrowing as he clasped his hands upon the desk. “You shall do no such thing. And you will speak of Alicent’s visits to no one.”
“Or what?”
“Or,” he began, rising from his seat, suddenly towering over her, “the pleas to return to the Whispering Sound that you crumple into the fireplace may just find their way to your father.”
Her blood ran icy cold as, simultaneously, her cheeks blazed with heat. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came to her. Tears of humiliation pricked her eyes. He knew. Of course he knew; the Hand had spies everywhere, she had acted as one herself on many occasions.
Otto’s expression softened as he took in her look of upset, and he sat heavily back in his seat with a sigh. “There is no need for tears, you—”
“Why am I even here? You may as well return me home,” she interrupted, her voice thick with emotion.
His features remained gentle and impassive as he regarded her silently for a moment. He then reached into a drawer of his writing desk, pulling out her favour and holding it out for her to take. Each feather and intricate loop of twine was undamaged, in seemingly pristine condition. She examined it in wide eyed wonder as she accepted it from him. It was as good as the day she had made it, no longer crushed as it had been when she had last laid her eyes upon it.
“How? Why?” She whispered, disbelief and confusion causing her brow to furrow.
“You may have need of it yet. Your time here is far from over. Now run along, I have important matters to attend to.”
She wanted to protest, to press him for further answers, but instead the authority in his tone had her obediently turning and leaving with more questions than she had initially arrived with.
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The late afternoon sunshine beat down upon Lia as she sat on a stone bench in the gardens, the soft rays warming her skin, casting the last of its amber brilliance in the hours before dusk. She held her favour delicately, fearful that too tight a touch might cause it to break apart again, as she studied it for imperfections, wondering how it could have been so expertly mended, and why.
“I would have thought you would have given that away at the tourney.”
Lia startled slightly, lifting her head at the sudden sound of Rhaenyra’s voice. A playful smile graced the princess’ lips as Lia watched as she came to sit beside her. Rhaenyra reached out a delicate finger to stroke across one of the favour’s feathers.
Lia returned her smile, though it did not meet her eyes. “I found no one I liked enough to give it to.” It was a half truth, but admitting that Otto had it repaired and returned to her would have raised questions that she is unable to answer.
Rhaenyra hummed in acknowledgement, before facing forwards, her eyes fixed upon the row of rose bushes planted into the flower beds in front of them. The two girls sat in uncomfortable silence, until Lia could bear it no longer.
“I am sorry I have not been there for you, it is not an easy thing to lose your mother,” she said softly, glancing sideways at Rhaenyra.
Rhaenyra shook her head, turning to face Lia, gripping her hand in one of hers. “It is me that should be sorry. I have not made it easy for you, for anyone, to comfort me. I was just so, so…”
“...angry?” Lia offered, intertwining their fingers. The warmth was soothing, and she had not realised until this moment just how dearly she had missed her.
“Hmmm. Did you know that Father sent Daemon away?”
Lia’s eyes widened, though it was no surprise that Daemon, prone to coming and going as he pleased, was no longer in the capital. Tt was a shock to her, however, that this time his absence was at the command of his own brother. “What for?”
Rhaenyra swallowed thickly, averting her gaze. “My father would not say, but I have heard whispers. He made a jest about my brother to a crowd in a pleasure house, apparently.”
“And your father banished him?”
“I am sure there is more to it than that, especially considering that Daemon has been removed as my father’s heir.”
Lia raised her eyebrows, her lips parting slightly as she struggled to take in the information. It appeared she had missed an awful lot in the weeks that she and Rhaenyra had not spoken. “So, who will be his heir now?”
“He has asked me to be.” Rhaenyra appeared less sure of herself than usual as she said this, her voice quiet and uncertain, as though she felt simultaneously crushed by the weight of the responsibility, but also terrified it would be taken away from her again.
Lia smiled at that, a gesture of both gentle comfort and genuine happiness, though she could not help the pang of envy she felt at both her friends having secured their futures. Alicent’s own advancement under the watchful eye of Otto, and now Rhaenyra’s succession to the Iron Throne.
“You will make a fine queen.”
Rhaenyra gave Lia’s hand an affectionate squeeze. “So, where is Alicent?”
‘With your father, most likely.’
Lia knew she should not say; it would have devastating consequences for their friendship, and Otto would be furious. Yet she could not help the pang of guilt she felt at withholding such information from Rhaenyra.
“I am unsure. Does she not know yet?”
Rhaenyra shook her head. “I had hoped to find the two of you together. I will need you both to help ready me for my proclamation. I feel too nervous to allow my lady’s maids to do it.” She paused, her fingers tightening once more, twisting their hands together further. “Lia, I need you, I need my friends.”
Lia’s heart ached for her, and she leaned in, resting her forehead softly against Rhaenyra’s in silent assent. The two girls remained like that, the void between them bridged by a desperate need to cling to the other for support.
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Lia stood on a wooden step stool to the side of Rhaenyra, the tips of her fingers sore from the sheer number of pins she had had to press into the princess’ intricately braided hair, simply to keep her headdress in place. She pulled back to admire her work, a small smile pulling at her mouth. The intricate gold and black halo was positioned perfectly upon Rhaenyra’s head. Satisfied, she stepped down to move towards the bureau to fetch the jewelry.
Alicent stood behind her, helping to drape the heavy black cloak around Rhaenyra’s shoulders, beaded gold and red dragons adorning the lapels. It was not until Lia moved back towards them that she noticed Rhaenyra’s sombre expression in the looking glass.
She stood rooted in place, running her fingers over the smooth gold of the earrings, not quite knowing what to do.
‘We could run away from all of this.’
‘Let us cross the narrow sea on dragonback and eat only cake.’
It appeared that Alicent had also noticed Rhaenyra’s sadness, as her hands had stilled upon her shoulders, her gaze soft and sympathetic as it met the rincess’ in the reflective surface.
Wordlessly, Rhaenyra tugged Lia towards her and the three girls embraced, as much a gesture of comfort for them as it was for her. A silent reassurance of ‘I am okay. I must do this.’
Lia clung tighter, part of her wanting to reassure her friend, another simply wanting to smother the voice in her mind that raged in jealousy over the fact that Rhaenyra would one day rule the Seven Kingdoms, yet somehow had the audacity to feel sad about it.
As Lia entered her own chambers to ready herself for the ceremony, her eye was immediately drawn to the emerald green fabric that lay across her bedspread. As she drew nearer, she saw that it was a gown, long sleeved with a plunging neckline, and intricate golden thread in the seams. She ran her fingers over the material. The brocade felt expensive to the touch, far grander than anything she had worn before. There was a note sealed with wax resting atop it.
“A trinket, and a gesture of generosity - O.H”
Lia did not need to peer into a looking glass to know her cheeks had turned scarlet. A gift from Otto, and with the timing of when it was delivered to her, she knew he would be expecting her to wear it to the proclamation. 
She felt far too grown up, the dress accentuating dips and curves upon her body she was unaware she even had until she had put it on. Yet another step away from girlhood, but towards what she had no idea.
Lia had never felt self conscious before, but she was certain that, as she walked through the corridors of the Red Keep, she shone like a beacon, a lurid invitation for all that she passed to stare at her. She longed to run back to her quarters, to tear off the dress and change into something more unassuming, but knew that a refusal of such an extravagant gift from Otto was a line that even she dared not cross.
As the lords of the Seven Kingdoms gathered in the Great Hall of the Red Keep to swear fealty to Rhaenyra as the heir to the Iron Throne, she looked every bit the future queen in her Targaryen finery, and it was not until Lia saw this that she understood the significance of Otto’s gift.
Her friends were ascending towards womanhood, and she must too.
Lia watched on, with Otto stood between her and Alicent. She wanted to feel pride for her friend.However, it was hopelessness and uncertainty over her own future that held her firmly in their grasp. She stood in the presence of two future monarchs, but what was to become of her? 
“You look lovely,” Otto leaned down to murmur in her ear, his breath ghosting across her neck.
And as she felt the warmth and weight of his hand come to rest upon the small of her back, it seemed as though the walls of the castle closed in around her as tightly as the bodice of her gown.
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the-fiction-witch · 17 hours
Text
White Rose
Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Gwayne Hightower Couple - Gwayne X Reader (uncle and Neice) Reader - Y/n (Neice) Rating - 18+ Fondling/ fingering / nipple play/ nipple sucking / nudity/ incest/ forced orgasm/ breast play/ bj/ hand jobs/ manipulation/ Word Count - 3195
Requested -
hello dear, i wanted to say that you fic are all amazing ♥️ can you please write one where gwayne is the sworn protector of reader who is alicent's daughter. alicent has committed herself to making sure that she is away from the world for her safety and the result is that she is very naïve. one of reader's friend got pregnant without being marry, so she goes to gwayne to ask how can a woman make children. and gwayne ask reader to undress, and he undress too, to explain her. he encourage her to touch and suck his dick, and after he say that when she will be pregnant her breast (which are already big) will be full of milk, so he suck her tits while massaging her pussy 😩
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Y/n sat at the window of her tower looking out at the ships leaving the harbour, she sighed as she sat there.
“Uncle Gwayne?” She cooed,
“Yes, white rose?” He cooed as he stood beside her seat, looming beside her sword at his hip,
“Can I go outside and watch the ships?”
“You know what your mother says,”
“I cannot…”
“You cannot,” he told her, “You know you cannot leave the your room let alone the keep.”
Y/n sighed, “Please Uncle Gwayne…” She begged,
“I’m sorry white rose, but you cannot.” He said, “I wouldn’t be much of a sworn protector if I went against your mother’s commands.”
“But Mother commands too much,” She pouted getting to her feet to pace, “I am only allowed to leave my room for social occasions, I must wear these endless layers, I am never allowed on my own even to bathe and sleep, it is not fair.” she pouts lying on her bed face down,
He sighed and went over, “I know it is not fair, but you are my white rose. You must be protected from all those bad things out there,” he cooed stroking her hair,
“But I have you,” she turns to look at him,
“You do, but there are things in this world even I can’t protect you from,” he said, “Hey, come on, how about I call one of your ladies in waiting up and you two can have some cake,”
She gently nodded,
“Right away,” he cooed kissing her head and going to arrange it for her,
Y/n sat for tea and cake with one of her ladies-in-waiting, The lady linaena of House Lannister. The lady was only two years older than Y/n but acted and appeared far older given her knowledge and experience when compared to Y/n. But as soon as she arrived Y/n noticed something odd about her friend, she seemed to sit strangely, to often grimace or squeeze her eyes tight in pain, her hands resting always on her stomach.
“Is everything alright Linaena?” Y/n spoke up,
“Oh- yes, forgive me, my lady,” Linaena answered,
“Please, what’s wrong?”
“It- I am not very well my lady,”
“Oh, I am so sorry Linaena,” she cooed, “I hope it is not too bad?”
“No I… I- have a troubled stomach,”
“Goodness, any ideas what caused it?”
“...I had moon tea.” she admits, “Forgive me, my lady…”
“Oh…” She gasped, she took a moment puzzled but decided not to say any more on the matter, “I see, well if you are feeling unwell do not let me keep you.”
“Are you sure my lady?”
“Yes, of course, take your time. Rest.”
Lady Linaena took her leave returning to her own chambers to rest,
So Y/n called her protector back,
“A very short visit today,” He chuckled,
“...Uncle Gwayne?”
“Yes, My white rose?”
“What’s moon tea?” She asked,
“Pardon?”
“What is Moon tea?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Lady Linaena said it was upsetting her stomach, I was curious.”
He chuckled slightly, setting his sword down on the table, “Come sit with me.” He cooed taking her by the hand and kissing her knuckles before he led her to sit on the end of her bed, “Now, tell me what was discussed.”
“Lady Linaena seemed uncomfortable so I asked her if she was well, she said she was having trouble with her stomach and when I pressed her on the matter she said it was Moon tea.” She explained,
“I see,” He nodded,
“What is it Uncle Gwayne, I’ve never heard of moon tea before… may I try some?”
“No.” he told her firmly, “No, my sweet little white rose.” he said softer, “Moon tea is a very special tea that ladies drink when… well… when they don’t want to have a baby,”
“But Lady Linaena has yet to wed, why would she want rid of a baby if she is not wed?”
He smiled warmly, “Well, perhaps she was a very naughty girl and was doing things a young lady shouldn’t.” He explained, “Not like my sweet white rose,” he cooed stroking her cheek,
“What sort of naughty things?” she asked wide-eyed and Naive,
“Well, if she was drinking moon tea to get rid of a baby, then she must have gotten pregnant. And wanted rid of it because she wasn’t married yet. You see?”
“I guess so,” she nodded, “But how do ladies get pregnant Uncle Gwayne?”
He chuckled softly, “I think… it best if we have a full lesson on the matter.” he cooed, “Come, stand all nice and pretty for me,” he told her with a slight growl to his voice as he pulled her to stand between his legs, “Humm, good. Now very slowly pull off your layers for me. One by one. Nice and slow,” He demanded but his tone still gentle with her,
Y/n softly giggled and nodded, slowly she began to undress unlacing, unbuttoning, and unclasping all the various layers and elements of her gown,
Gwayne didn’t assist in any way just let her slowly work until her slip fell to the floor leaving her standing naked between his legs, He held back a groan and bit his bottom lip as he looked at her body, his eyes trailing over her curves and lingering in all her most intimate of places, “You are so beautiful, a sweet untouched white rose yet to be soiled and spoiled by the world,” he cooed his hands stroking his fingers over her stomach and waist’s tender skin which forced a ticklish giggle from her lips, “Now it’s my turn.” he growled in her ear. Gwayne then began to undress himself making sure to be slow and gentle letting her look at him as much as she needed to, and once he kicked off his britches leaving him sit on her bed completely naked he took her hands in his guiding them to his shoulders letting her stroke down his chest, “Are you ready for your lesson?”
“Yes, Uncle Gwayne,”
“Good,” he cooed, “Now look at yourself, look how beautiful you are, look at every curve and divot of this perfect body you reside in,” he told her running his hands slowly over her hips, “So immaculate, so stunning, an untouched, unspoiled white rose.”
She nodded,
“And now look at me, see how different we are?”
“Yes, very different,” she nodded blushing slightly,
“That’s because I am a man. And you are a woman. Men and Women are supposed to be different, meant to fit perfectly together,”
“Like a puzzle,”
“Yes, just like a puzzle.” he nodded, “When you look at me, do you start to feel excited?”
She nodded,
“Humm, that's desire. That’s your body telling you it wants to make the puzzle come together,” He smirked, “How you feel and so much more is how every man in the kingdom feels whenever they look at you,”
“All of them?”
“Yes my white rose, all of them. They all look at you and feel a burning desire to look at you, to make you theirs, to pluck the petals of my beautiful white rose.” He cooed, “They see you and all want you like this, exposed and willing, they want to make babies with you every last one of them.”
“How do they make babies?”
“Come on,” he cooed tightening his grip on her hips and pulling her into the bed with him, sitting her on his lap, he moved back a little so they sat in the centre of her bed with her sat on his thighs. “There, Now. When a man and a woman are wed they will be bed. And during the bedding, they will make love that's how they make the babies.”
“But Lady-”
“I know. But she did something very naughty, girls shouldn’t make love without being married. You understand?”
She nodded,
“Good,” He nodded, “Now, when a man and a woman feel the deep desire to make love,”
“And are married,”
“And are married yes,” he nodded, “They will start to kiss,” He cooed peppering little kisses up her neck making her giggle and playfully squeal in excitement, “And you’ll see the man will start to get hard,” he whispered in her ear,
“Hard?”
“Mhm,” he nodded caressing her chin before pushing her head so she looked down at his cock, “You see, watch me getting hard.” he cooed as he stared at her running his hands over her softly to make himself get hard for her,
“How did you do that?” she asked,
“I can’t help it, whenever a man see’s a pretty girl he gets hard. It has somewhat a mind of its own… it knows what it wants.” He growled, “See how egar it is to see you, to touch you, you make me wanna get all big and strong for my little white rose,” he groaned, “And if you or even I, was to touch it like this. It would make me feel… oh so good.”
“It would?”
“Yeah it would, and when a man feels amazingly good, he cums. His cock won’t be able to take the feelings anymore and it’ll be an explosion of pleasure, and his cock will spit out his jizz, his seed. Which is how babies are made.”
“From seed?”
“Mhm, When his seed is planted deep within it’ll grow into a baby.”
“Just like flowers?”
“Just like flowers, That’s how you bloomed my sweet white rose.” he cooed, “Your mother made your father feel so so good that he spilt his seed, which buried inside your mother and grew you.” He explained,
“So That’s what Lady Linaena did?”
“Yes, she made a man so happy he spilt his seed and got her pregnant but she drank her moon tea so she won’t be having a little baby,”
“I see…” She nodded, “So if I made you spill your seed it would make a baby?”
“Only if when I spilt it was inside you,” He cooed rubbing his nose on hers, “If my cock was deep inside your pussy” he groaned stroking his cock with one hand and softly cupping her pussy running his fingers between her lips, “You see my cock would have to be… in here,” he growled slowly pushing his finger inside her,
“Ahh!” She gasped,
“I know, it’s very tight, isn’t it? Umm cause you're a good girl, a good innocent little white rose, your petals still so tight. But tight is good, men love tight. That’s why men love taking little girls' innocence, cause of how tight and responsive you are,” He growled against her lips as he gently moved his finger in and out gently fingering her while he jerked himself off and watched her react,
Her face contorted unsure how to feel, she liked it but it kinda hurt, but it got easier the more he did it,
“When you get married, a man will adore doing this to you. He’ll want to have his cock inside you every moment of every day.” he cooed, “But there are other ways to please your husband.”
“How?” she asked,
“You see how I touch it, how I rub and stroke my cock?”
“Yes,” She nodded,
“Come on, you can do it.” He cooed kissing her hand and gently moving it to his cock, wrapping her fingers around his vainy shaft and guiding her back and forth, “Oooh-”
“What’s wrong Uncle Gwayne?”
“Nothing, nothing just… ummm that feels good. You're a natural.” he growled guiding her hand a little faster, “Just like that okay, keep going…” he demanded taking his hand away as he softly began to moan, “Oh fuck-”
“Like this?” She asked getting more into a pace,
“Yes… yes… Ohh y/n…” he moans throwing his head back, “Ohh my little white rose, how the fuck are you so good at this-” He groaned,
“I am?”
“Oh you are,” he groaned, “Ummm your gonna make me cum already,” he growled as he slipped another finger inside her and began to finger her at the same pace she jerked him off,
“Ughhhh!” She moaned in shock feeling pleasure now building between her legs,
“Yeah… ohh good girl, you feel good?”
She nodded,
“That’s how you're making me feel too,” he growled, but he forced her hand away and pulled his own from her,
Y/n whined at him suddenly stopping,
“I know, I know, but we have more to learn,” he growled licking her juices off his fingers, “Umm you taste so sweet,”
“I do?” she giggled,
“You do,” he nodded, “Do See how hard and desperate I am when you touch me like this?”
“Yes.” She nodded,
“You think you could make me feel better?”
“I can? But we might-”
“You can help me, without risk it’s okay,” he nodded, “Come on my little white rose just open your mouth and suck.” He cooed,
She nodded sheepishly and let him lead her down to his cock, she was nervous but he smiled down at her,
“Go on, just a little lick.”
She slowly licked from base to tip running her tongue along his shaft,
“Ohhh god-” he gasped, “Yes just like that keep going.” he nodded holding her hair to keep her close,
She nodded and continued to lick, swirling her tounge around his head,
“Uhhhh! Ohh yes! Yes… fuck! Y/n…” he moaned his hips bucking up towards her mouth, “Umm open those lips for me, nice and wide.”
“Yes Uncle Gwayne,” she nodded opening her mouth as wide as she could,
“Umm you're such a good girl,” he growled, “You look delectable with your mouth open.” he smirked before he guided his cock inside her mouth, holding her hair to keep her in pace, “Ohhhhh fuck-” He moaned, “Yes… yes… now suck my little white rose, suck as hard as you want,” he begged,
She nodded slowly hollowing her cheeks and sucking, finding her pace with her breaths and sucks,
He moaned and groaned loudly often bucking up to thrust into her mouth, guiding her hair to move her head up and down as she sucks, “Lick too. Lick all over,”
She began to lick and suck trying to keep at her pace,
But Gwayne was getting overwhelmed and began to thrust hard and fast fucking her mouth in desperation as he moans and groaned, “Fuck, fuck… I’m gonna cum-” He groans, “I’m gonna cum… I- Ughhhh!” His body froze suddenly as he moaned loudly burying his cock as deep in her mouth as he could sending his jizz across her tounge, “Fuck… ummm… that felt so good Y/n, My sweet little white rose,” he cooed between breaths, as he pulled his cock from her mouth, “Swallow.”
“Are you sure Uncle Gwanye?” She asked even with her mouthful,
“Yes go on, swallow it’s okay.” He nodded,
She nodded and swallowed it all, so he wiped her mouth and kissed her forehead,
“You did amazing,” He growled, “But we will have more to learn, you see if a husband and wife don’t want to make a baby, but they still want to make love and have pleasure, they can use their hands just like I showed you, or mouth like you just did for me or even…” he growled flipping her over onto the bed, grabbing her thighs and forcing her legs as wide as they would go, “Let me show you my little white rose,” he cooed kissing down her neck, planting the soft kisses down her chest which made her squirm and giggle, “Ummm… just a moment,” he cooed as he rubbed his face between her large breasts, “Someday when you do get pregnant, these will get even bigger,”
“Bigger!”
“Oh yes white rose even bigger,” he groaned cupping her breasts and kneading them as he rubbed his nose against her sternum, “They will swell and grow filling with milk for your babies. So you can feed your little ones from your breast.” he smirked his index and middle finger pinching and rubbing her nipples, “You see how hard they get when I touch them, even though you're not pregnant your breast want to feed, they want to do it. So they get nice and hard ready for a baby to suckle,”
“That sounds painful…” she whined,
“It can be, but it makes your babies ever so happy to feed from their mother… and… Husbands don’t dislike having a little lick too,” He growled licking across her entrapped nipple,
“Ummm-” She whined softly squirming more,
“Just enjoy it,” he cooed latching his lips around her nipple softly sucking and licking while his hand kneaded her other breast,
“Uncle Gwayne this feels funny,” She gasped,
“I know, I know,” he cooed, “It's cause you don’t really have any milk in here yet, but it feels good, doesn’t it? Feels all bubbly in your tummy,” He cooed returning his lips to sucking as his other hand moved to rub against her pussy once more stroking between her lips to find her clit,
She moaned as soon as his hand touched it,
And he bit down a little on her nipple as he purposely pleasured her hard and intensely, slipping two fingers inside her while rubbing on her clit, kneading her breast and sucking on her nipple,
She screamed and moaned out in pleasure as the onslaught of stimulation brought her to the edge of climax, she tried to call out, to ask what was happening to her but she was unable to form the words, until-
Y/n squealed digging her nails into her bed as pleasure washed over her, curling her toes, making her legs tremble, her hips buck up towards his hand, her body releasing a stream of squirt, her back arching up pressing her breasts closer to his mouth, her head thrown back and eyes rolling back into her head as she moaned uncontrollable animalistic sounds in response to the overwhelming pleasure,
Gwayne growled in satisfaction and kept going letting her ride out the whole of her orgasm until she was a gasping mess on the bed, he pulled back and licked his fingers clean, “Ummm look at you, you look so beautiful, sound so delicious. How can any man resist you.” he cooed, “That’s why you need to be locked up here white rose, cause every man in the kingdom wants to see you like this. And given the chance all of them will take it. So you and I need to stay safe up here okay,”
“Yes, Uncle Gwayne,”
“Good girl,” he cooed, “And I think we won’t see you little friend anymore, I don’t want her putting ideas in your head that a lady can do such things before she is wed,”
“But didn’t we-”
He chuckled, “I’m your uncle, I’m allowed.” he winked, “Come on little white rose lets tuck you in and we can have a little nap together and then I’ll show you some more little things,” He smirked,
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cherryys · 2 days
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looking at this panel again made me realize what megumi says here has more implications about him other than his sexuality or preferences. it's about how he views his wants vs. his needs.
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Todo asks him about his type. Usually when someone is asked that, they answer with their preference, what they *want*, or *prefer*, like for example Yuuji's answer of a "tall girls with big butts", despite having a history before of not prioritising that like when he liked yuko.
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But Megumi answers, not of what he prefers or what he finds attractive (whether physically or personality-wise), he just says what he *needs*. He doesn't have a preference as long as the person's character is unshakable. That's it. That's why Todo found his answer boring.
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it's not just because he described a character trait or personality rather than a physical attribute like Todo & Yuuji, but because it was the bare minimum. When you ask someone their type, if they reply "someone with a stable career" you'd find it a bit boring, no? it's not really answering your question of what they want in a partner, what they desire. just what they need. This approach of only looking at what is needed persists through everything Megumi does, not just his type, specifically his career a sorcerer.
He doesn't take more than what he's given, and he forces himself to provide what the situation needs. For example, his sacrifice bunt in the baseball game that Gojo called him out for. He didn't think about what he wanted, but what was needed for the match, and that was to let Nobara advance while he stays behind, so that they overall win the match.
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He limits himself like that. That's why Gojo's words of "It's okay to be selfish!" resonated. Because he never let himself take more. He never let himself step out of line.
This goes for his relationship with Gojo, too. he was a teacher, a mentor for him, but he never let himself step out of line to get any closer to him, as opposed to someone like Yuuji or Yuuta who interact with Gojo freely without any barriers between them. To him, he needs Gojo as a mentor and nothing else, and never let himself entertain the idea of wanting to be closer to him. throughout the conversations and interactions between Megumi and Gojo, there is a sense of distance that not even Gojo has with Yuuta and Yuuji, despite the barriers Gojo put up. Yuuji and Yuuta are both close to Gojo in the sense that they let themselves depend on Gojo and express themselves freely, able to talk about things other than jujutsu. but there isn't anything like that with Megumi. he always speaks to him formally despite 10 years of knowing each other and he's never spoke to him about anything other than jujutsu. to Megumi, Gojo is a teacher and mentor strictly and nothing else. not an adult he could depend on or someone he could confide in.
This goes for Toji, too. To him, he thinks doesn't need his father because he left him, that's why he doesn't care. even if he wanted to grow up with a stable caretaker in his life.
When Gojo first provided him with the two "choices" of training under him or being with the Zenin clan, he didn't think to ask if there was a third option where he just doesn't become a sorcerer. obviously this is because when you're like 6 years old and you're provided with two options, you don't think to entertain a third secret option, especially when you're talking to someone you don't even know, but this mindset of just taking what life gives you without question or defiance is largely why megumi didn't really thrive, especially in such a selfish environment like jujutsu sorcery where you need to overstep to succeed. only when he let go of those limitations (CH. 58) was he able to take selfishly.
His dream in 266 tells you this in full clarity. what he wanted was a simple and domestic life away from jujutsu sorcery. but he knew he didn't have the authority to really demand that from gojo, so he settled for what he needed, which was his sister's happiness.
this attitude of his likely resulted from the fact he grew up having everything taken away from him (his mother, his father, and even his stepmother) along with the fact that he grew up in poverty, so he didn't feel like he had any sort of authority to want things. he saw it as a luxury he wasn't allowed.
(interesting that the only time he has expressed a want, went against life and actually stepped out of line and made a decision out of a selfish need, is when he wanted to save yuuji.)
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sencrose · 3 days
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— WHO ARE YOU, REALLY?
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pairing: naoya zenin x f!reader, implied feelings involving naomaki
tags: dead dove do not eat. dubcon, angst?, reader is described as having a similar appearance to maki (mostly in hairstyle), incestuous undertones, physical abuse (against maki, sorry queen) established relationship, throatfucking, no prep, rough sex, pain during sex, (condescending) praise, hair pulling, internalized misogyny
wc: 3.2k
summary: You do not know what your husband sees in you. For better or worse, you learn.
a/n: back on my writing horrible things about naoya bullshit!! ngl this was weird to write but i also had a lot of fun with it. big thank you to @blueparadis for beta reading this for me <3 please read the tags and proceed with caution. ao3 link here
tagging: @pixelcafe-network @jellyfishsart
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You do not know what your husband sees in you. 
It is not that you are without merit, but you are, simply put, plain. A weed in a field of flowers in full bloom. The diet that follows after a bad bout of the stomach flu. A satellite in the night sky that might be mistaken for a star — until it glides past far too quickly to be one, much to an onlooker’s disappointment. 
You know what power the Zen’in clan holds. The kind of power where even the most upstanding of sons will poison their fathers just for a taste. The paranoia that comes with it, the rumors of potential traitors whispered between paper doors is enough to keep anyone on edge. 
With all of that in mind, you know in your heart of hearts you are not the type of person the next head of the clan would pursue. 
Yet you were told he picked you out by hand, out of the dozens of matchmaking papers given to him. Applicants that began and ended on ink, their names, birthdays, and occupations, were discarded without a care of who they were, or who they could have been. 
What an honor, you were told. 
So you packed up your things with a judgemental eye, preparing yourself for the worst when you arrive. Would they let you keep a stuffed animal that was a birthday gift from a friend, or is that too childish? What about this shirt — is it conservative enough or will it bring unwanted attention?
You left most things behind. 
Every now and then, you recall a conversation you had with your mother shared over a plate of cut fruit, shortly before you received the news from the Zen’in clan. It comes to you whenever you see the young girls rushing through the corridors, hands holding a stack of sheets that tower over them. 
“Do you have any dreams?” she asked, carving the skin of an apple, the crimson peel spiraling under her skillful thumb, “Ambitions?”
She tended to ask this now and then. It’s natural, you assumed; a mother’s desire to know anything and everything there is to know about their child. 
It’s hard to remember or keep track of all the answers you’ve given her. All you know is that they’ve become less ambitious over the years. From huffing your chest out and saying you’ll be an astronaut who lives out in the stars with the profound confidence only a child could have, to something less spectacular, more mundane. 
You didn’t have much luck becoming a sorcerer, which shrunk your options. Maybe you’d go to school. Maybe get a degree, get some kind of corporate job, waste your life away in a gray office cubicle. 
But none of those are dreams. Obligations, perhaps.
“No, not really,” you replied, detached from the conversation. It was the truth. 
She patted you on the back, comfortingly. “Ah, that’s a good thing. You don’t want to be greedy.”
You still don’t know what she meant by that, but you also made no effort to ask for clarification. The words simmered low and steady until it burned and branded itself in your head.
As if to pull you out of your thoughts, your mother handed you a slice, an offering. Despite her words, you wondered if it was consolation. 
Even after some time has passed since your arrival, you do not know what your husband sees in you. You’re not sure he sees you at all. 
His touch is few and far between. 
To your surprise, on the night of your wedding you did not consummate your marriage. It happened two weeks after, and it was not what you expected from someone who had supposedly picked you out on his own accord. 
It was anything but gentle. You learned quickly that Naoya Zen’in is not a patient man.
Rough hands were grabbing anywhere, everywhere. If you didn’t know any better, you would think he was trying to devour you. 
Nothing placated him. When you gazed up at him teary-eyed with soft pleas to go slower, you only made things worse. Hands grabbed onto your form to flip you over, push your face into the sheets so he didn’t have to hear your protests. Fingers pressed deep into the dip of your waist, so hard you worried about bruises forming (they did). 
Once he got what he wanted out of you, he tossed you to the side. As if you were some random girl he just happened to pick up for the night, someone he hoped would be gone come morning. 
As if you weren’t his wife. 
It was the first time in a long time that you realized, maybe, you had wants. Desires. To do something instead of having something done onto you. 
But your mother’s words haunt you. 
You don’t want to be greedy. 
For the first time since arriving at the estate, you have a hint of what your husband sees in you.
You don’t think you’re supposed to see it. You don’t think you’re supposed to be here at all.  
A girl lies on the floor of the open courtyard, her head underneath Naoya’s heel.
It’s like looking into a mirror, though a bit distorted. The image is similar, but the puzzle pieces filling in the gaps are all different.
Her hair is much like yours, though the strands that frame her face hang like blades, sharpened, ready to cut anyone who gets too close. 
You don’t have that type of intensity around you. The pieces of hair that frame your face soften your features. Wispy, uncertain shapes that blow away with the slightest puff of wind. 
The similarities start and end there. 
Though she’s younger than you, she wears a hardened expression, one you always thought would come to you with age. You realize now that you must’ve had it easy when you see how she wears it like it’s all she’s ever known. 
Although you go unnoticed by your husband, the girl acknowledges your presence. Her gaze meets yours, fury ablaze in her eyes, along with something else you don’t recognize. Your legs react before you even realize, taking a step back. 
Even with her body pressed into the ground in submission, you can tell she is anything but. It’s written candidly on her face, teeth bared to the world, begging for flesh to dig into.
Your husband must be a blind fool. Even you can see from a distance that she’s a wild animal in human form, just waiting for a chance to break the chains of her enclosure. You feel it in her stare, how she strips you down to a state even Naoya hasn’t witnessed. You don’t like it. How her eyes hone in on you like a lion staring down its prey.
Then again, would you even be considered prey? Even a rabbit has a fighting chance at running away. You do not know how to run. Not towards a goal, and certainly not away from danger.
But you can still walk. Walk while you can and you can forget you’ve ever seen this. Stuff it back in the recesses of your mind, back where you wrote off wants and desires and greed all those years ago.
You don’t walk away fast enough.
When you hear her name slip from your husband’s lips, your stomach freefalls. 
You haven’t been at the estate for long, but you know of her. Everyone does. You just never had the chance to put a name to a face. Maki Zen’in, one half of the clan disappointment, alongside her twin sister. It goes without saying that you also know of the ties that connect them.
You know your husband is a cruel man. He has to be; it’s practically a requirement for someone of his power and status. But it’s hard to watch when it’s laid out so plainly in front of you. Even so, you stay.
You watch with a tightness in your chest as he pulls her up by the base of her ponytail before throwing her back onto the ground, gravel and dust dispersed in the air from the impact.
Anger lights a fire in his eyes. No matter what he does, he doesn’t seem to get the reaction he wants, or much of a reaction at all. She takes it in stride, only emitting hushed grunts when he kicks her. While you flinch at the volume of his voice rising, she boldly sneers at his frustration.
You meet her eyes again. 
She laughs. 
It isn’t to piss off Naoya. No, it’s directed at you. The bystander who’ll go on with her day like nothing ever happened, even after witnessing the horrific abuse doled out at the hands of her husband.
Even though she doesn’t hold an ounce of cursed energy in her veins, you know what she thinks of you. You hear it in the dry chuckle she lets out before Naoya kicks her again.
You’re cursed. 
How pitiful. 
You’re sure he’s ranting about something, maybe something Naobito did, but you can’t bring yourself to listen to him. All you can think about is the girl in the courtyard, with an ire in her eyes you’ve never seen before. When was the last time you looked like that? Felt something so intense it radiated off of your very being, so bright and radiant it couldn’t be ignored? Have you ever had that kind of fighting spirit in you?
A stagnant silence brings you back. You vacantly stare back at your husband. It was your turn to speak for once. You perk up at the opportunity, though you’re unsure how to seize it.
“Sorry. I just don’t know what I’m supposed to say.”
“Well that’s the thing, isn’t it? You don’t need to say anything. C’mere.”
He pulls you in closer, his hand petting your head. It’s the only time he shows any semblance of gentleness, a cruel way of lulling you into a false sense of security. You know what comes next. His hand presses against your head, lower, lower, until you’re nestled against his crotch. Naoya looks at you, expectantly. 
Your fingers wrap around the cotton ties that hold his hakama pants, pulling with a tug. From there, the fabric falls easily, more so once you reach around his waist to undo the tension from the straps. 
You steel yourself to do what you’ve always done, though something sits in the back of your mind. 
You get him to groan with a long stroke of your tongue on the underside of his cock. Build yourself up to taking his entire length into his mouth, inch by dreadful inch, but it’s hard. By the time you swallow him whole, you can feel his tip pressing against the back of your throat. You do your best to service him at a pace he’d be satisfied with, one you know is out of your skillset, dribbling spit and coughing softly whenever you go too deep.
But Naoya isn’t satisfied. He’s impatient, his fingers weaving through your hair, pulling tight before he quickens your pace to his own liking. It’s something you still haven’t gotten used to. The burning in your eyes, the gross wet sounds that leave your mouth as he bobs your head up and down like a toy.
“Fuck, you’re perfect. Take me in so well, don’t you?” His grip around your hair tightens.
He continues recklessly fucking your throat, ignoring all of the choked cough and garbled yelps you let out whenever he hits the back of your throat. All you can do is take it, ball your fists and fold your thumbs in, and hope that trick you learned about reducing your gag reflex isn’t just some urban legend.
Naoya removes yourself from him as roughly as he places you onto him. The rush of air is both a welcome one and sudden change, and you gasp and cough at the sensation.
“Wife,” He brandishes the title like a weapon, the blade of a dagger pressed against your neck.
“Tie your hair up for me, won’t you?” he poses it as a question, but you know you have no choice in the matter. 
Time freezes.
Your eyes shift and you find yourself fiddling with your fingers, hoping he will change his mind if you look up at him with a disarming plea in your eyes, but his gaze does not falter. His eyes only get darker, a dangerous amber that glows like a warning sign in the lowlight of your shared chamber, as he awaits you to fulfill his request. 
Maybe your husband doesn’t see you, but you have always seen him for who he is, even if you didn’t want to admit it. It shines more than ever, when he tilts his head and the corners of his lips upturn. A snake carefully wrapping itself around a rat, just one good squeeze away from keeping you in his clutches forever. Once again, you’re trapped and frozen with nowhere to go. Unfortunately, you play your part well without trying.
You shouldn’t be surprised. It probably runs in their blood.
Slowly, you tie your hair up, strands spilling between your fingertips as you pick them up again, gathering and pulling through the hair only halfway through the elastic, an unstable, floppy bun.
You don’t want to be greedy.
A ghost of unspoken words from your mother whispers against your ear, and maybe if you caught on a bit sooner, things would be different. What was she trying to tell you? What did she hold behind her tongue so cautiously?
Because that’s not how I raised you?
Because that’s not a woman’s place?
Because that’s not what makes a good wife?
But none of it sounds quite right.
And though the thoughts swirl and cloud your head, something else rings bright and clear through the murkiness. 
You want. You want to be wrong. You want it with an intensity you’ve never felt before in your life, a desire clawing its way out of your chest, desperate to see the light of day. 
It’s a good thing. You don’t want to be greedy.
Naoya gently tugs on the loop of hair with his fingers, almost intimately, and it makes your stomach curl. He pulls apart the strands in half to tighten it, until a ponytail reminiscent of the one you saw earlier today sits on top of your head. 
It is only in this moment the clouds in your mind disperse, the addendum your mother wanted to add clear as day.
Because all you will be left with is disappointment.
Even though you’re filled with unease, you follow his lead because it’s all you’ve ever known. He pulls on the waistband of your skirt before pushing his hand against your back, getting you in position to arch for him. 
His fingers drag against your slit, before sliding two of them inside your hole, ignoring any initial resistance. Another thing you learned about your husband is that he’s a determined man; to your dismay, it doesn’t matter if it doesn’t fit, he’ll make it fit. Even the stretch of his digits is uncomfortable, scissoring them inside you just to hear you whine under his touch. You wince when he withdraws them, tighten up when you feel something hot and hard pressed against you.
There’s no getting used to his size. Even if he took the time to prepare you properly, you’re sure it would still hurt – if not at the initial penetration, then at the frenzied thrusts that come shortly after. His plump cockhead nudges teasingly against your hole, poking and proding before pulling away. He likes to keep you on your toes, hear you whimper when he surprises you a rough thrust. 
Something about him seems more impatient than usual.
He pushes himself into you, and you bite down on your lip as he splits your walls apart in one swift movement. Over the course of your marriage, you’ve learned to wait out the pain, keep your breathing steady until he starts to move. But his pace never stays slow for long. It’s only a short moment before his hips slam into yours faster and you have to weave through the sheets and grip for stability.
“Naoya, ‘s too much,” you whine, voice high pitched and on the edge of sounding needy.
Without warning his hands wrap around your ponytail and he pulls tight. The sharp pain makes you wince, arch your back until you’re pressed flush against his chest.
“Talking back, are we?” he quips back.
“No, no, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you say, hushed and quiet. 
You don’t think he accepts your apology, not when he tugs a bit harder and gives you a thrust so deep it knocks the air out of your lungs. Whether he accepts it or not, he’s still enjoying himself. You hear it in the groans he lets out whenever he hits you deep inside and you moan at the impact, feel it in the way his other hand kneads your breast before giving your nipple a tug.
“You like this, don’t you?”
You wonder if his words are actually directed towards you, but you don’t think too hard about your response, falling back on your default mode of placating him.
“Mhm,” you hum softly.
“Then you won’t mind if I go harder, right?” he asks, but he doesn’t give you a chance to respond. There’s no smooth transition, he simply goes straight into fucking you harder.
His pace is dizzying, the slap of skin-to-skin echoing throughout the room as he fucks you.
He only gets louder and more desperate as his hips slam into yours. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen him like this before. It makes your mind race, makes you wonder if he’s holding back his tongue to call out another name whenever he hums a bit too long in pleasure. Each sound he makes causes your heart to skip in terror and anticipation, but you never hear it. Still, it trembles. 
“Be a bit louder for me, ok?” he whispers in the shell of your ear. His hand traces down from your chest to your waist, lower until it reaches your aching clit. “I’ll even treat you tonight.”
The unexpected contact pushes you further into him, sends a shiver of tension up your spine. You don’t want to admit the pleasure boiling up in you, not like this, but your body doesn’t give you much of a choice. Your lips are the first line of defense to fall, high pitched moans you don’t recognize spilling so easily, naturally, as if it’s water leaking from a faucet.
Maybe he thinks you’re enjoying yourself just a bit too much, because the grip on your hair tightens once again. But it doesn’t stop the rush of warmth building up in your stomach, from your muscles tightening to prepare for your impending climax.
“Nao, I’m close, I’m close-”
Shame washes over you along with your orgasm, walls fluttering against his cock, as he fucks you through it. Naoya’s own climax follows shortly after yours, his hips thrusting harder until he stills with a shaky groan. 
Only once he removes himself from you, you collapse on to the bed, body spent. You cautiously reach for the hair tie, looking over at Naoya as you pull it out with a soft tug. He doesn’t stop you. 
You know what your husband sees in you.
You wish you didn’t see it too. 
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batmanisagatewaydrug · 22 hours
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Hey sex witch!
What advice would you give for someone who is interested in trying penetrative sex one day, but utterly terrified at the prospect of any chance, no matter how small, of becoming pregnant?
It’s a genuine phobia for me, and a big part of why I considered myself sex-repulsed as an asexual for a while, when I was really closer to neutral but was too terrified to try anything. Logically, I know things like condoms are fairly reliable, but there’s still that chance, you know?
hi anon,
in addition to condoms I'd definitely recommend looking into your options for hormonal birth control. IUDs have a failure rate of a little under 1%, which can be decreased even further by using them with another form of contraception like external or internal condoms (which go on the penis or inside of the vaginal cavity respectively; both are effective but Do Not use them together). it may also help your peace of mind to have some emergency contraceptive like Plan B on hand (when stored properly, it's shelf stable for up to four years!) or even make sure you have an actionable plan + emergency funds set aside for the worst case scenario of an unwanted pregnancy, whether it's an in-clinic abortion or a self-managed abortion at home. it can be scary to think about, but learning about your options and knowing that you have a plan in place + the ability to carry it out if the worst comes to pass can help make the risk much less daunting.
if you want to get really heavy duty with it you may want to look into the option of being medically sterilized. there are a number of options for people with vaginal reproductive systems, including bilateral salpingectomy, tubal litigation, or having the ovaries and/or uterus fully removed. it's expensive and can be difficult at times to find surgeons willing to perform these procedures on people who are still of reproductive age, but if you're set on it and able to afford it then it seems like a reasonable option to pursue for your satisfaction and peace of mind.
there are also plenty of ways of having penetrative sex that don't carry any risk of pregnancy, if those speak to you: toys and fingers can penetrate just as well as a penis, and there's always anal.
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appleblueberry-pie · 2 days
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I love yall, and I know I haven't been writing on here...but like what happened to being descriptive in our writing? I feel the effects of communism reaching the fingertips of the only group of writers who still (gladly) bother to give energy into this website. I barely do much, and I barellyyy give anything at all nowadays but without the explanations of anything going on, how are people new to this supposed to understand where ur coming from? I wanna feel the emotion in your story. I want you to tell your tale and i wanna feel what all those characters feel.
Im being given like literal scraps right now. All I see are what could pass as a description of what a book is about and then yall call it a day like whatttt that's not what we're here for. At all. I wanna feel what your brain felt when u wrote that one sentence. Description isn't just meant for smut, its meant for all forms of writing.
The best example I could give is with what I do best, yandere stories(sorry). Jujutsu kaisen(sorry to other Fandoms but what I'm saying does apply to everyone).
Yandere Gojo kidnapped you after you found out he was stalking you for over a week now. You don't even know him like that. He's just your coworker for crying out loud. But now you're trapped in his home for his to have, to take care of. And you can't do anything about it.
.........................okay??? Where's the rest? Why did he kidnap you? What drove him to take you in the first place? He had enough? Did he NOT have enough and just took you entirely out of sad guilty pleasure? Is he a loser that depends on you without realizing it? How does the reader feel about it?? Why isn't there anything about how the reader feels about any part of this?
What about buildup to the kidnapping? The mental work-up to that big moment? Where's the intention behind the language he speaks to you, the love he gives in every move he makes directed towards you, where's the devotion and care he shows in every touch he gives to you? Where's the absolute opposite of that care when he's around anyone that's not you?
Where is this character that you're proposing to us?
It's just hard for me to read anything when no one's....idk it just feels like no one enjoys their own writing anymore. I get everyone's busy, and they still post every now and then. And that's me. Im so fucking busy. But it's just like, somethings off. I wish I could find good writing again.
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