#if you like decorating a house and dressing characters it may be of your liking. It's also in other languages other than eng

[nonokoko13]

Ah, yes, the P GGG. Pastel, Gothic, Gay, Gamer

[dinogoofymutated]

First born Headcannons! Multi/Fem!Afab! Reader - Angel, Colossus, Nightcrawler, Gambit OKAY FUCK I don't know what came over me it just happened okay??? This whole thing started thinkin about colossus and a lil baby and then I was thinking about Warren taking the nightshift with his own baby and I spiraled from there. Warren's is like twice as long as everyone elses my bad yall. If there are any typos don't make fun of me ill fix them tomorrow I'm so tired lol TWs: Childbirth mentioned (Not described tho), Babies, wholesome shit. I know that some of these characters have had kids in the comics and that these hcs may be ooc, but I do not care lol. Little bit of anxiety and panic, but everything is okay.

Warren Worthington

Warren is such a dad. I don't even know how to describe it. Like, he's not as effortlessly fatherly like Piotr is, but once he has a kid he's devoted to making sure this kid gets all the emotional, physical, and financial support they would ever need.

He had such a rocky childhood with his own dad, so he hates the idea of his child ever going through the same sort of thing.

He might be a little clueless with the actual baby things, like when to feed, how to dress, and what to feed his little one, but he does take diaper duty as his sole purpose in life. He does adjust for the things he lacks though, and gradually adjusts to be better at them!

He's strangely good with babies, even before he had his own! There's just something about him that makes them stop crying. He's also an expert at nap times.

    It’s an early weekday afternoon. The sun is shining through the blinds in warm golden rays, the sink clean and the dishwasher running. There’s a click once the message on the answering machine stops playing, and you have an uncertain frown on your face as you take it all in.

    The house is silent, brightly decorated with pictures of your close friends lining the walls of the hallway. The sounds of your husband quietly shushing your infant son gradually become easier to hear when you reach the cracked door of the nursery, pushing it open as quietly as you can.

    Warren’s back is facing you, fluffy wings almost glowing where the sunrays touch his feathers. Your newborn is sleeping in his arms, napping after a lunchtime bottle. He’s bouncing the baby just slightly, and you swear you can see his smile without ever having to see his face. It’s a sweet moment you want to crystalize in your memories. You lean against the doorway, smiling just as bright as you’re sure he is.

    "Hi~" You say sweetly after a moment. You were right. Warren’s happy smile is bright and blinding when he turns to look at you.

    "Hey," He says quickly, lifting your sleeping son so that you can see him better. "Hi Mama, say hi Mama!" Warren whispers as he lifts the baby’s pudgy little hand to wave at you. You can’t help but giggle, walking forward to kiss both of them on their cheeks- your little one not stirring from his nap. You take a breath afterward, leaning against his side as you debate telling him.

    “Something wrong?” Warren asks, one of his wings stretching out to wrap around your side and pull you closer to him. Normally you giggle, but today you bite your lip, unsure.

    "Your dad called." Your words are soft when you say it, and Warren immediately laughs in a way that sounds more like a scoff.

    “His secretary, you mean.” Warren attempts to correct, and his joking tone makes you frown a little, rubbing his upper arm in an attempt to be soothing.

    “No, not her, honey.” Warren stays silent after you say it, his brow furrowing as his face turns into a reflection of confusion and sadness. You can see the conflict as he turns the words over in his head, cooing and shushing your son back to sleep when he starts to stir a little, feeling the atmosphere shift. 

    “...what did he want?” He asks, voice low and quiet.

    “He left a message on the answering machine if you want to listen to it.” You tell him. “He, well… He wants to meet his grandson.” Warren scoffs at that, shaking his head as he starts to pace the room a little. You stand there, grounded as you watch him process the sudden contact.

    “He really said that? After all he’s put me through, he wants to meet our son… What a joke.” You grimace when Warren starts to laugh. He finally stops pacing to gently lay your son back in his crib. He leans against the side with one hand as the other rubs his eyes before it slides up to run through his hair.

    “Do you want him to?” You ask after a moment, stepping over to his side. He leans into your touch when you reach out to hold his cheek.

    “I-” Warren stops himself, taking a deep breath as he takes your hand in his own. “What do you want to do?” He asks instead. You shake your head at him, taking hold of his hand in both of yours, tracing the wedding band on his finger.

    “He’s your dad, love. It’s your choice.” You say softly. Warren is still frowning, and he lets out a long breath, deflating a little bit. He turns around to face you, pressing a kiss to your temple and holding you there for a long moment. You wish you had even a fraction of Jean’s or the Professor’s power, if only you could see what was going on in that head of his. He pulls you into a side hug, and the two of you spend a long while looking at your infant in the crib. The perfect mixture of the both of you. Certain to be a mutant in his own right. You can tell Warren spends every second thinking about it.

    When he steps away from you, He’s silent.

    “Warren?” You call out for him as he leaves the room. You’re about to follow when you hear the distinct sound of your son about to wake up, the little whine catching your attention as you coo him back to sleep instead. The door to the nursery is open, and just faintly down the hall, you hear the sound of the landline starting to ring.

    “Hey, Dad, it’s Warren. Is Saturday okay?”

Piotr Rasputin

GOD this man is so good with kids. I mean, have you seen those comic panels with him and his sister??

This man was made, built, forged to be a dad. He's protective but encouraging, and although he may be blunt, he knows when his kiddo needs some comfort.

He takes all the classes with you during the pregnancy, and he knows he'd never hurt his baby, but there's always a lil bit of worry in the back of his mind. He's a little too strong, and he hates the thought of slipping up and accidentally harming this fragile little soul the two of you brought into this world.

He gains confidence with time, and when the baby arrives he's always carrying them securely on one thick arm, belly down as they sleep soundly against him.

    His baby is so small when they hand her to him in the hospital. She's tiny. Smaller than the width of his arm. He looks like a giant as he holds her, sat next to your bedside as you recover from her delivery. He's in awe as he looks at her, a tiny little life, the greatest gift you've ever given him besides your hand in marriage. 

    You and others had always joked that his baby would be huge, big-headed, 99th percentile, and he never minded it. It was no secret that he was a big man, and he didn't mind what size the baby was as long as it was healthy, and looking at the little bundle of joy in his arms, he decides he wouldn't have it any other way.

    It's almost comical, how small she is. Hell, even you might have doubted the paternity of the baby girl if it hadn't been for her head of pitch-black hair, and pretty blue eyes. Almost a carbon copy of himself.

    “She has your eyes.” You say once her cries quiet down, and she begins to fall asleep in her father's arms.

    “No.” Piotr hums, gingerly touching his daughter's face. “They look much more like Illyana's.” You hadn't thought about that before, but now that he mentions it, the resemblance is undeniable. You giggle at that, Scooting closer so that you can lean on his shoulder.

    “The nurse said that she's waiting outside, when you're ready. I'm sure she's beyond excited to meet her niece.” You mumble. Piotr has placed a finger in the palm of your baby's hand, both of you smiling when the little fingers do their best to try and close around his fingertip. Piotr cannot wait to see the face of his sister when she sees your baby, but he'll be the first to admit, he'd like it if this moment could just last a little while longer.

Kurt wagner

Kurt is such a good dad oh my god.

He's always talking about you and the kids, bragging about literally everything you do ever. He's the kind of dad that has endless photos of his kiddos in his wallet, car, locker, everywhere.

And he's so devoted, too. He'll do anything you ask him to do during the newborn stage (and after) and is beyond supportive. His goals are happy Spouse, Happy kids, Happy life.

He's also very sentimental :) he thanks god every day for you and the blessing that is your baby.

    Kurt’s side of the bed was empty when you woke up this morning, and despite the normal amount of anxiety you normally feel when that happens, you feel peaceful. You’re smiling at the empty mattress, rolling over to his side to push your face into his pillow, taking a deep breath. Used to, you would be worried. You would wonder where he was, or if he was safe. If he had gone off on some x-men mission without telling you (which he never did). But today, you know exactly where he is. You’re smiling now as you think about it, pressing a kiss to his pillow before standing up.

    There’s a soft humming in the house, quiet and soothing. It’s not hard to figure out where it’s coming from, the path to the spare room having become second nature to you- although, it really wasn’t much of a spare room anymore. You try not to be too loud when you enter the room through the cracked door.

   Kurt is humming sweetly, your son laid out on the changing table as Kurt finishes worming his pudgy little legs through a new onesie. The baby whines a little, squirming around as Kurt attempts to change his clothes. 

    “Patience, Mein kleiner Schatz. This won’t take long.” Kurt says sweetly. Your son isn’t really having this whole changing business, and it makes Kurt chuckle. His tail is wrapped around a bottle of milk, and he sets it to the side right before he snakes his tail over the crib. He brushes the spaded end lovingly over your baby’s cheek as a distraction, and the infant coos as he finishes getting his arms through the sleeves. His tail takes over from there, buttoning the onesie's clasps as he turns to grab the bottle of milk instead- stopping for a split second when he sees you in the doorway. Kurt smiles.

    “How are my boys?” You ask, voice a little rough from sleep.

    “Gut! And lively, it seems.” He tells you. He passes the bottle off to his tail again when you walk over, taking you into his arms as he shakes the formula up a little more. Kurt kisses you sweetly on the lips, pressing his forehead against your own when you separate. 

    “Guten Morgen, Schatz. How are you feeling?” You swear you fall in love with him all over again each day when he greets you like that. You shrug your shoulders in response, smile dropping just a little bit.

    “I’m okay. Still tired, and definitely still bloated, but I’m okay.” You admit. Kurt frowns a little, brushing some hair from your face.

    “Did you see the medicine I left for you on the nightstand?” Kurt asks, and you immediately make a bit of a silly face, remembering that you didn’t exactly get up on your own side of the bed today. Kurt knows what that looks means and begins to laugh, just as your son begins to whimper and whine to be held and fed. You try to go pick him up, but Kurt stops you as he picks your baby up instead, bottle at the ready.

   “Go take your meds, I’ve got him, Liebchen.”

Remy LeBeau

Remy is a little nervous to be a dad.

Not in a flight way!! He's just a little worried that he'll be a bad influence on the kiddo. and well, I mean sure. If you're worried about the kiddo being a little rager and being into a few to many wild hobbies I guess (usually comes with the cajun territory)- but overall, Gambit is such a sweetheart, and if anything his kiddos would be so respectful and loving towards their parents.

Remy's very protective over your baby. The protectiveness is at it's height around 0-3yrs of age, but it never, ever goes away completely.

He might talk some smack about how a little bit of dirt/germs never hurt anyone, but He's actually the kind of dad that makes everyone put germex on before even thinking about holding the baby.

He's on top of feedings, and never fears a blowout when it comes to changing diapers (no matter how much he might gag). He might not have the diaper back stocked and loaded 24/7, but he's doing the best he can.

    When you wake up, It’s about 3am. Your eyes blink oper wearily, and the light from the alarm clock is practically burning into your eyes. You want nothing more to curl up and go back to sleep, and you almost do, until the time actually registers.

    3am. Its 3am, and you went to bed at 10pm. This is the first time you’ve woken up since then. Your veins feel like ice when you realize that you haven't heard the baby cry once. You rip the cover off of you, breaking out in a panicked run across the hall to check on your newborn. You don’t even realize that Remy isn’t even in bed until you slam the door open and see him standing there, your daughter in his arms as he rocks her to sleep in the rocking chair You breathe a sigh of relief as he looks at you with a tired smile, but your anxiety still remains.

    “Remy? Is she okay?” You whisper, practically leaping over to his side to take the little one out of his arms.

    “She’s Okay, Cher.” Remy replies softly. He stands from the chair, wrapping his hands around your back, the infant snug in between your bodies. You sigh again, taking a moment to look at your daughter carefully, eyeing her chest as it rises and falls, and straining your ears to hear her breathing. Remy gives you a second to get situated, yawning just a bit as he sways the three of you as you stand there. You relax as he holds you both, resting your head against his shoulder.

    “Why don’ you go back to bed.” Remy says after a long minute. “That was the longest I’ve seen you sleep in a while.” You frown. He’s not wrong. Your newborn has been a bit colicky lately, crying for nights on end since you brought her home with very few things to keep her comfortable. She has started to grow out of it, but the effects still remained. She cries a lot at nighttime, and it makes you wonder if that’s why you had slept so long, because of Remy staying up to keep her quiet.

    “And leave you here? Remy, how long have you been awake?” You ask, looking up at his face. He shrugs, smiling still as the three of you sway.

    “I’m fine. I can stay up all night if I need to, as long as you get to catch up on some sleep.” If it were any other circumstance, you might have swooned at the words. As sweet is he is, you can’t let him do that! He begins to step away to place your daughter in her crib, and you hold yourself back from trying to take her from him and commanding him to just go to bed.

    “Remy-”

    “Ah ah ah, Cher, don’t wake ma petit, now.” Remy cuts you off with a whisper, turning around to place a finger against his lips in a shushing motion. He almost makes you giggle, but instead, you simply shake your head at him. He pulls you into a loving kiss when he’s close enough, running his hand through your hair. You know he’s waiting for you to pull back, to retreat into the bedroom to sleep like he asked you to, but you’re still hesitant. He knows your stubbornness firsthand and chuckles when he pulls back a little.

    “Do I need to tuck you in, too?”

[submattsmxmmy]

Dead dove: do not eat 💖 Hiii, it's @ariestrxsh and this is my secondary account. Here is my contribution to kinktober. I know the Ghostface trope has been done so many times, but I figured it would still be a fun little smut to write in honor of Halloween.

👻🎀 content warning: smut, degradation, predator/prey dynamic, restraints, knife play, blood play, ghostface!matt, ghostface!chris, slutty!reader

👻🎀 author's note: idk if this would be considered a dead dove: do not eat fic, but it certainly contains some rather dark material, so i'd rather label it that way to be safe. also, my reader's slutty nun outfit may offend you if you're religious, so please scroll and don't read if it's going to upset you.

👻🎀 summary: you're throwing a halloween party at your house in a remote area. the night becomes like a thrilling, real-life horror movie after your friends, matt and chris both show up dressed as the infamous ghostface.

masquerade

"What are you guys going as tonight?" You asked Nick, Matt, and Chris as the four of you aimlessly wandered around the Halloween store that was littered with all the decor you could dream of for the party you were throwing later. You'd done most of your holiday shopping a few weeks prior, but you just needed a few final touches to complete the vibe you were going for.

"I'm going as Stu Macher," Nick responded, fiddling with some tacky Halloween decoration. "I'm going as Ghostface," Chris confidently replied, and your gaze softened as you pictured him in one of those sexy masks.

"Hey, what the fuck, Chris? I'm going as Ghostface," Matt slugged Chris in the arm. Your breath caught in your throat, and your lips fell open as you pictured them both in the Ghostface costume. "Relax. That'll make it more fun. Then no one will know who's who," Chris smirked. "People already have a hard time telling us apart," Matt rolled his eyes.

"What are you going as?" Nick asked you, ignoring his brothers. "Well, I'm going to be the only one out of the four of us who isn't going as a Scream character. But it's going to be a surprise," you told them, wandering over towards a giant cauldron that caught your eye.

"What are you going to use that for?" Matt asked. "Punch bowl! Isn't it perfect?" You asked, picking it up and cradling it in your arms as the four of you continued through the store. "Can you at least give us a hint about what you're going to dress up as?" Chris playfully poked you in the side.

"All I can tell you is, it's gonna be sexy, and you're gonna thank God when you see me in it. I'm trying to get laid tonight," you proudly stated as the four of you headed over to the checkout counter to pay.

Nick, Matt, and Chris dropped you back off at your place, which was out in the middle of nowhere, so you could finish setting up, and so they could change into their costumes. You thought it was fitting you lived in a secluded part of your town's national forest and didn't have any neighbors for miles.

You'd just finished putting out the last of the decorum when people started trickling in. You had fake spiderwebs strewn in every corner, a smoke machine, and a black light.

You were just thinking about how excited you were for the boys to see you in your glowing slutty nun outfit when the doorbell rang, and as you pulled open your creaky front door, you saw Nick covered in fake blood accompanied by a pair of Ghostfaces, the whites of their masks lit up by the black light. "Look at you!" Nick gasped as you gave them a twirl. Chris and Matt's eyes were immediately drawn to your exposed chest and your bare thighs.

"Please, Mr. Ghostface, don't kill me!" You jokingly shrieked, placing your hands on your cheeks and making a fake surprised face. "You look really good," one of them said to you. "So do you guys," you seductively replied, nibbling on your lower lip and looking at the three of them, but especially Matt and Chris. You had a bit of a thing for masked men.

They shuffled into your house, admiring the way you had decorated. More guests started arriving, and the party started to really take off. Nick started hitting it off with a guy you worked with who was dressed as a skeleton, which left you, Matt, and Chris alone.

"You guys wanna scare Nick tonight?" Matt asked menacingly, tilting his head in his ghostface mask, which had no business being as hot as it was. You bit your lip at him.

Chris could tell you were entranced by the costume. "Like the mask, sweetheart?" Chris asked in a deep, menacingly voice that was strikingly familiar to that of the original Ghostface, taking his 'prop' weapon and running the edge along your cheek, but the metal was sharp and cold. "Shut the fuck up. Oh my god, is that a real knife?" You asked him, staring wide-eyed at it.

"Yeah, why does that scare you? Or do you like it?" Chris said in a spooky voice. You narrowed your eyes at him. "Neither. You guys are so immature. Have fun scaring Nick. I'm gonna go enjoy my party and try to find someone to hook up with. Try not to cut anyone with that thing."

You rolled your eyes at them and pushed past them, trying to hide the effect they were having on you. Both sets of eyes traveled to your ass as you walked away. "Why don't we play a prank on her instead?" Matt inquired. "Yeah, she could use a little loosening up," Chris responded.

You couldn't deny that the way Chris had put that blade up to your cheek while he was dressed like that was having a rather strong effect on you, an effect so strong that you desperately wanted to turn back around, grab them by their solid black robes, and beg them both to rail you while they wore their Ghostface attire.

You'd always found them both attractive, but they were your good friends, and most nights that the sexual thoughts about them creeped into your psyche, you were able to will it away, or something you'd never admit out loud to - sometimes you'd just take care of the aching between your legs really quickly, and the thoughts would usually dissipate on their own, but tonight was different.

You could feel a damp warmth between your thighs as you sauntered off in another direction to greet some of your other friends, but even as you asked them how the party was and tried to get your mind off of the Sturniolo boys, you found yourself peeking over your shoulder, stealing glances at them, and losing your inner battle with yourself to fight off your urges.

It had been so long, and you were so horny.

"I think that guy over there is checking you out," your friend who had animals ears on nudged you and glanced off in the direction of the punch bowl you'd bought earlier. Your eye caught a tall man with zombie makeup on that you didn't recognize grabbing himself a cup of spiked punch, his gaze flicking up at you every few seconds. You thought he was kind of cute.

"Go talk to him," your friend urged you, lovingly squeezing your arm. You took one more glance in the direction of where Matt and Chris had been standing just moments ago, seriously considering trying to pursue one of them instead, but when your eyes scanned over the crowd, you didn't see either one of them. You'd missed your chance.

"Okay, fine," you whispered to your friend, rolling your eyes and working up the courage to approach him. You took a deep breath and headed in his direction.

"Hey, do I know you?" You asked, grabbing yourself a red solo cup and serving yourself some alcoholic punch. "You know, some would say your costume is offensive," he said, ignoring your question and motioning towards your exposed breasts in your very ungodly outfit.

"Then why don't you rip it off of me?" You flirtatiously shot back. He looked unamused with you.

"Hey, so, what's the deal with your friend?" He asked, taking a sip of his drink and his gaze looking past you to where you were previously standing. "Oh, my friend," you said in a slightly disappointed tone, realizing you'd just approached and been very forward with a man who had been interested in the girl standing next to you the whole time.

You started back off in the direction you came from, and your friend glanced over at the embarrassment in your expression. "What happened? Was he a dick to you?" She asked, concern in her eyes while she cradled your face. You could understand why he was looking at her instead of you.

"No, nothing like that. If you think he's cute, you should go talk to him. I'll be right back," you responded, feeling your face get hot. You pushed past a crowd of people to get to the bottom of your staircase, and you hurried up the steps before your tears could fall.

It wasn't so much that you were upset about not getting the guy. You weren't even that interested in him. It was a combination of a few things, really.

It was the humiliation of misreading the situation, the insecurity you felt about not being as pretty as your friends, and the constant self-doubt you had about whether you really were a slut like everyone called you and if any guy would ever want you again because of it.

Through your teary vision, your bedroom door caught your eye. You stopped dead in your tracks, sniffling and wiping away your tears as alarm bells went off in your nervous system.

Your bedroom door was wide open, and you swore you'd shut it before the first few guests had arrived. You walked through the door frame cautiously, overwhelmed by a sensation of having eyes on you, studying your surroundings to see if anything else was out of place.

You shrugged off the feeling of being watched, chalking it up to the fact that it was Halloween, and you had been watching a lot of thriller and horror movies in the couple weeks leading up to your party.

You made your way over to the bathroom sink, setting down your red solo cup on the cold countertop and peering at your reflection in the mirror. You didn't want to spend Halloween night sulking in your bathroom while your two hot best friends were downstairs, strutting around in their sexy Ghostface attire and probably finding other girls to sleep with.

You cleaned off the eyeliner that was smudging on your bottom eyelid, glued the corner of your eyelash back down, and readjusted your breasts in your costume.

After fixing the imperfections with your wardrobe, you decided you weren't going to let the night end without taking a stab at trying to have sex with whichever one of the Sturniolo brothers you saw first, excluding Nick of course. You were done pretending like you weren't completely taken with them.

Your gaze flickered over to the reflection of your partially open closet door in the mirror. Again, you could have sworn you'd left it closed. Filled with dread, you slowly tiptoed out of the bathroom, past your bed, and over to your closet. You rested your hand on the round, metal door knob and slowly pushed it shut.

You realized how ridiculous you were being, rolling your eyes at yourself and letting out a sigh at how jumpy you'd been lately. You turned back around and started to head out of your bedroom when all of a sudden, you heard the sound of the closet door creaking open again.

Before you could spin yourself around and identify the threat, you felt a gloved hand cover your mouth and a cold, sharp blade resting against your neck. "What's your favorite scary movie?" The way his voice came through sounding just like Ghostface had you both scared and turned on.

Your eyes rolled back in your head, and you let out an audible moan against his palm, causing him to pull his hand back. "What was that?" Chris accusingly asked, speaking like himself again. "What the fuck? How do you make your voice sound like that?" You asked in a shaky voice.

He chuckled in your ear, avoiding your inquiry. "Answer me first. What was that sound you just made?" Chris posed the question again. "Nothing. Real funny, Chris. Let me go," you responded.

Another figure appeared in the corner of your eye as Matt walked around in his Ghostface costume, shutting your bedroom door closed. Your heart dropped as you watched him lock it and make his way back over to you. "Let you go? Are you sure you want that?" Matt cooed, running the back of his gloved hand along your cheek and tilting his head down at you. You gulped.

"Is this turning you on?" Chris whispered into your ear. "Gross," you rolled your eyes. "Only one way to find out," Matt menacingly replied. "Why don't you check her, Matt?" Chris smirked under his mask.

Your mouth fell open, and a strangled whimper came through as Matt reached between your legs, lifting up your skirt and slipping his fingers into the waistband of your panties. Immediately, he felt the wetness leak through his glove.

"Oh, she's soaked. Her clit practically has its own heartbeat," Matt relayed to his brother, drawing circles on it with his fingers and talking about you as if you weren't in the room with them. "I bet she'd like it if we took care of that. Don't you think?" Chris wondered, dragging the blade across your collar bone and between your partially exposed breasts.

You couldn't hold back your delighted sounds as they both put their hands on you. It was like a dream come true. Your prayers had been answered. You'd fantasized about them each separately, but the idea of having them both take you on at the same time didn't even seem like an option until now.

"What's turning you on so much? The mask? The knife? The fact that it's me and Matt?" Chris cooed at you, pulling your top down to reveal your tits. He took the knife and started running the sharp edge against your nipples that stiffened at the touch. You immediately shuddered and let out a whimper.

"All of it?" Matt wondered, continuing to play with your pussy that was becoming wetter by the second. "Answer him, slut. What's got you all wet, hmm?" Chris growled into your ear. Of course, it hurt your feelings to be called that, but there was something about the way Chris said it so endearingly that it didn't seem like he was trying to do anything other than turn you on, and it was working.

"Nothing, it's completely unrelated," you lied, biting your lip to hold back another moan, but your attempts failed, and your head fell back against Chris' chest. You felt his hard cock against your backside, and it twitched at the way you struggled to keep yourself composed. "Yeah, mine's unrelated, too," Chris replied sarcastically, staring down at your tits as he continued to tease them with his knife.

You felt Matt's fingers slip into your hole as he started to fuck you with them. "You want us to stop?" Matt asked. You nibbled on your lip and softly shook your head no. "That's what I thought. She's such a little slut," Chris said to his brother. "Don't you know it's always the slut who dies first?" Chris rasped into your ear.

"Oh, she likes that," Matt cooed, feeling your pussy start to throb around his fingers. You tried to hide your reactions, but your body language couldn't keep your secret from the two pairs of Ghostfaces who manhandled you.

"You still never told us your favorite scary movie," Chris pointed out. "Blair Witch Project," you hesitantly answered. "Mmm. That's a scary one. Especially when you live out here," Matt replied. Chris leaned over to Matt and whispered something in his ear that you couldn't quite make out.

"Lay on the fucking bed, slut," Chris responded as they both let you go. "We're gonna go have a little chat in the other room, and you're gonna lay right here and behave," Matt ordered you. "And if you try to run, you're gonna be really sorry," Chris said, waving the knife in your direction.

They both disappeared behind your bathroom door. You heard the sound of Chris and Matt arguing behind the wooden barrier about who was going to have their way with you first, but you had another idea.

When they both emerged from the bathroom, you were gone, and on your nightstand was a note that read: "come find me in the woods, mr. ghostface. xoxo, your prey" with a heart drawn below the lettering.

"Oh, that sneaky bitch thinks she can be in charge of her own fate. We're gonna have fun with her tonight," Chris told Matt as he picked up the note.

They both disappeared out of the room, down the stairs, and out the backdoor towards the dense treeline behind your house with a flashlight Matt had snagged off your kitchen counter.

All they had to do was listen quietly for a few minutes beneath the blanket of stars and clouds, and then they heard you, crushing twigs and leaves under your weight as you tried to stealthily make your way through the forest.

All of a sudden, you were lit up by the flashlight Matt held in hands. "Gotcha," he said in a menacing voice. You froze and stared at them both, unable to move a muscle. "Think you're so slick, huh?" Chris asked in a low, sexy rasp.

"You know what would make this so much more fun? If she had to guess who's who while we take turns fucking her," Matt suggested, taking a few steps towards you. "And if she guesses wrong, we'll make her bleed," Chris laughed, closing in on you as well.

You'd never seen this side of the two brothers, but it excited you more than you were willing to admit.

You started slowly walking backward until you backed into a tree, and you swallowed hard as you felt its rough trunk under your palms, realizing you didn't have anywhere to go.

"Please, Mr. Ghostface. Spare me!" You whined, but you couldn't hold back your smirk as Matt pulled the knife out of his robe and cut your costume from your body. You gasped as the fabric fell the floor in front of your feet. You'd never imagined your night would go like this. In fact, this was hotter than anything you could have ever dreamt up.

"We told you that you'd regret running." It was that same ominous, threatening, and sexy voice that Chris had used earlier in the night, so that must have been him. "I thought we told you to behave," said the other, sounding just like the first one. Fuck, you thought.

You watched as the boy with the knife started to cut a hole in his robe, and your eyes widened, and your jaw fell open as you realized what he was doing. You watched as his dick poked through the black fabric, staring you down. He handed off the knife to his brother.

"Since you like to run, one of us is going to have to hold you still," the second one said pinning your wrists above your head with one hand with the other, he held the blade up in front of your face. You saw yourself in the reflection of the sharp metal accompanied by the man in the Ghostface mask beside you, and it sent goosebumps across your flesh.

He closed the distance between the weapon and your breasts, and he started tracing your nipples again with the knife's edge. Your chest rose and fell as your breath quickened. You peered at the boy who was settling between your legs, grabbing ahold of his big, veiny cock with his gloved hand as he started pumping it back and forth a few times, making sure it had reached its full potential.

He hiked up your leg, wrapped your thigh around his waist, and pulled your panties to the side before sinking it into your heat and stretching you out. "So tight," he groaned deeply, feeling the way you gripped his dick. You let out a few loud moans as you adjusted to his size, taking every inch of him.

"That's it. Take it like the slut you are," he gruffed, picking up the pace and wrapping his gloved fingers around your neck. "Like that?" The boy who was holding your wrists cooed as he dragged the sharp object across to your other peak.

You loved the way both Ghostface masks reflected your fear back at you as well as your pleasure, their empty eyes, and their contorted mouths, taunting you. You glanced back at the brother who was between your legs, focusing on his thrusts. His fast and powerful thrusts.

Every time he bottomed out in you, a desperate mewl escaped your lips, filling the atmosphere. The masked man started to mimick the sounds that poured from your mouth while his brother fucked you, and you adored every second of it.

You loved the way they were feeding your sick fantasies, holding you at knife point, wearing their sexy costumes, and fucking you dumb while they degraded you. Your sounds became louder, more urgent, and less inhibited. You could feel the intensity building.

"Scream for me, bitch," the man between your legs chuckled. His mean words, his hand around your throat, the movement of his hips, and the cold, sharp metal dancing across your skin were enough to cause you to snap.

You hit the point of no return, clenching around the mystery man's rod, sending him to the same fate shortly after. You could feel his twitching cock filling you up as your orgasm took its course, the two of you moaning in unison while you finished together. Your legs grew weak as you came.

"Oh my god, Chris. Matt. Whoever you are," you breathlessly panted. You thought for sure you'd be able to tell them apart by now, but you had no idea, and you found it all the more enticing.

"Such a good girl for me," he cooed, slowing down his thrusts, pulling out, and watching his seed flow out of you. He stared down in awe at the mess he made, taking in the sight and savoring it while his breathing pattern returned to normal.

"I've been waiting for this," the boy to your left said as he switched places with his brother. He took the knife, hooking it into your panties and slicing the delicate material, watching the fabric fall to the ground and revealing your pretty pussy to him.

Then he cut a hole in his robe like his brother had done, and you peered down at his gorgeous cock poking through the tear in the material.

He roughly pried open your legs, guiding them open with the blade. He dug into the inside of your right thigh with his gloved hand and rested the knife on your lower stomach. You couldn't keep yourself from admiring his big, throbbing dick, and you sharply inhaled as you felt him slip his tip into your entrance.

"Oh, fuck," he moaned as he bucked his hips forward, his entire length vanisihing into your tight hole. Your eyes flicked back up to his Ghostface attire, taking in the incredible view of being fucked by a man in such a sexy mask.

The man beside you restrained your wrists, pinning them above your head again. "Alright. Time to guess. Who am I?" The boy beside you asked in his creepy Ghostface voice, tilting his head at you as he tightened his grip. You innocently peered up at his mask, searching for some kind of hint in his demeanor.

"Chris, is that you?" You asked uncertaintly. "Wrong. Remember what happens when you guess wrong?" Matt cooed, running his gloved finger along the underside of your chin. Your eyes were glazing over, your lips fell open, and your cheeks were flushed.

Chris applied more pressure to the knife, running the blade along your lower stomach and drawing blood. You let out a satisfied whine as you felt the release of the knife cutting you. The warm, sticky red fluid glistened in the moonlight as it slowly dripped down your abdomen.

"So pretty," Matt whispered, brushing your messy hair out of your face and his eyes dancing between your desperate expression and the way the blood looked so beautiful on your skin. Moans began pouring from you again as Chris fucked you senseless up against the tree.

"Please, Mr. Ghostface. Harder," you begged, your eyes lazily rolling back into your head as your breasts bounced to the cadence of his thrusts. "Cock dumb little slut," Chris menacingly chuckled at your pathetic pleading, but he still gave you what you so enthusiastically craved, relishing in your desperation for him.

You loved feeling helpless and giving yourself over so willingly to both brothers as they used you for their own pleasure. Your whimpers became louder and fuller as you neared your tipping point again.

"Harder," you cried out again before your orgasm took over. Your gaze danced between both of their masks, and your pussy started rhythmically throbbing around Chris' cock as he delivered a few more monumental strokes. You felt a wonderful, relieved feeling in the pit of your stomach as you came unraveled under the control of both boys.

Your brows pinched together, your knees weakened, and your stare began to lose its focus until you couldn't concentrate on anything except for the pure pleasure and ecstasy coursing through you. You were pumped full of Chris' cum as his cock twitched inside of you, and as you came down from your intense adrenaline rush, you felt all your muscles relax.

Both men chuckled, removing their masks and revealing their identities to you. Sure enough, you had guessed wrong. Chris leaned in and chuckled into your ear.

"Don't worry, sweetheart. You may have guessed wrong, but we're going to spare you. You're worth way more to us alive than dead."

[blossomingmoonlight]

⭑ I am yours and you are mine, whatever may come ⭑

Masterlist

Pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x sister!wife!reader (characters are +18)

Summary: after your mother Rhaenyra ascended the iron throne you were finally able to wed your betrothed. But with a royal wedding comes a bedding ceremony.

Warnings: NSFW, mdni, smut, vaginal sex, making out, handjob, grinding, humping, creampie.

Word count: 2.2k

You anxiously played with your hair as one of your handmaidens braided it. Your other handmaiden standing in front of you, adding the accessories to your beautiful ivory gown. Today was your wedding day. It was a joyous day in King’s Landing, your mother, the queen,  having ascended the iron throne and having slayed your traitorous uncle, she could finally rule. You were already betrothed to your brother Jacaerys before the war but the wedding was put on hold because of the events. But today was the day, you were nervous but also excited. After 7 days of celebrations the royal wedding would take place, in the very room the iron throne was in. After some time of preparing you were ready to head down to the doors that led to the throne room. As you stood there nervously waiting for the doors to open you felt a hand on your shoulder, your step father prince Daemon would walk you down the aisle. He offered his arm with a smile and when you took it the doors opened revealing the huge room decorated with candles, feathers and flowers. And not to mention the hundreds of people from court within. Your eyes immediately shot to the end of the aisle where your soon to be husband stood next to the high septon who would be officiating. 

You were pulled out of your thoughts when Daemon started walking, all the eyes in the room were on you, soft gasps all around at the sight of your beautiful dress and hair. You walked alongside Daemon down the aisle and when you reached the end, Jace took your hand so Daemon could join your mother and brothers at the base of the steps. Jace walked you up the few steps to where the high septon stood. Both of you taking each other's hands and giving each other a nervous smile. Then the high septon spoke. “The love of The Seven is holy and eternal. Source of life and love. We stand here today in thanks and praise to join two souls as one. Father, Mother, Warrior, Smith, Maiden, Crone, Stranger hear now their vows.” You kissed Jace’s cheek before he spoke. “I am yours and you are mine. Whatever may come.” Then you repeated the words. “I am yours and you are mine. Whatever may come.” You smiled, which was returned by Jace. The high septon continued. “Here in the presence of gods and men, I proclaim Jacaerys of house Velaryon, (Y/N) of house Velaryon to be man and wife. One flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever.” The septon ended. Jace gave you a light kiss on your lips and the room disrupted with applause. You both looked at your mother, brothers and Daemon, and they smiled. Then Jace took your hand and walked you down the steps, now the celebrations could begin. 

After hours of dancing, feasting and entertaining your guests you started getting nervous for the next part of the wedding, the bedding ceremony. Even though the old tradition of people “making sure” the ceremony actually took place was dropped years ago, it still scared you. You knew the basics of it, of course. But still, you didn’t know what it would actually be like and it made you nervous. Obviously Jace was a sweetheart and would take care of you, so you expected it to still be a positive occurrence. What you didn’t know was if Jace had any experience already, of course as a man he was allowed to bed whomever, whenever he wanted but you always thought it didn’t fit his character, and he rarely left the Red Keep, so you decided you were both clueless, which made it a little less intimidating. Jace sat beside you at the large table in front of the guests. Your family all sitting next to you two. And alas the feast was declared over by the queen and you and your new husband left the room to his bedchamber.

His bedchamber was a place you have been to many times before but now it was different, you were going there with a completely different intention. An intention that made the heat pool in your belly. As if Jacaerys read your thoughts he asked “Are you alright? It’s okay to be nervous, I’m nervous too.” You were glad that even though wine was poured as water tonight, he didn’t overflow his cups. Wanting to be sober with just enough of a buzz for confidence. “I’m alright, yes, but I am nervous. Ha- have you had any...well experience?” You asked him anxiously, getting ever closer to his bedchamber. “No not really, I wanted to save myself for marriage too, it’s only fair. And I have to admit that I also didn’t want to uhm- father bastards, you know.” He explained, grabbing your hand and ordering the guards by his door to leave you, you both certainly did not want anyone listening in. As he led you inside your nervousness grew and you started to feel hot all over your body, and he hadn’t even touched you yet. 

“Jace, do you know...well you know, how to do this?” You asked him, looking him in his beautiful chocolate eyes. “The basics, yes, don’t worry. I’ll make sure to never hurt you, and if you want to stop you can always just tell me, okay?” He told you sweetly, as he put his hands on your waist, taking in your beautiful figure. “Okay, I trust you.” You mumbled putting your hands on his chest. He looked in your eyes and brought his lips closer to yours. You could feel his warm breath on your lips and you slightly parted them, waiting for him to close the gap. At last his big soft lips were on yours, the moment heating by the second and you grabbed his brown hair slightly tugging at the roots, which earned you a groan from him. He then walked you back towards his bed pushing you down before confirming you were still okay with it. 

After you told him it was okay he immediately had his lips on yours again, his tongue now asking for permission to enter. Something that you eagerly permitted, as his tongue came in touch with yours, you softly moaned in his mouth. You could feel your wetness between your thighs and you wanted him to touch you so badly. “Jace, please touch me, just touch me, anywhere.” You begged as you removed your lips from his for but a mere moment. “Anything for my wife.” He muttered. He kissed your cheek and started removing your dress and undergarments. After he undressed you he started removing his own clothes as well. And holy fuck did he look good, his toned abs, his biceps, you didn’t know your husband was this well gifted under his clothes. But as you observed him, your eyes landed on his already hard cock, glistening with precum at the tip. He was big, at least you assumed that he was bigger than other men, he sure looked like it. 

Jace saw you observing him and smiled. “I hope I am not disappointing you my love.” You looked at his face again and a blush spread across your face. “No no, not at all. You are incredibly handsome Jace.” You admitted, he grabbed your face again and kissed you deeply. You moved your hands over his toned chest, which made Jace groan against your lips. “Let me touch you Jace, please.” You pleaded with him, you wanted nothing more than to wrap your hands around his slightly dripping cock. “Of course, please touch me.” He moaned at your touch and you started to move your hand experimentally. Gripping him sometimes harder and sometimes softer again to test how he would react and what he would like best. A firmer grip clearly got the best reaction so you firmly started jerking him off until he begged you to stop. “Why? What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” You asked him nervously, had you grabbed him too hard and hurt him? “No no not at all, it’s just- if you had continued... I would’ve... finished too early.” He smiled awkwardly. 

“Oh- of course, I’m sorry. I just wanted to make you feel good.” You smiled. “Ooh fuck.” He mumbled to himself, loving the way you said that. “And it did feel really good, I promise but I need to make you feel good now. So that I might prepare you for...the actual activity.” He expressed. You smiled at him and he pushed you to lay down, while trying to remember the words of the book he had read about sex he decided that he would be better off experimenting himself to see what made you tick. So he slid his hand up your thigh and touched the mound between your legs softly. He decided that that was the right move as you moaned at his touch. Again he touched you only this time he added a bit more pressure and moved to try and find the spot that made you moan the loudest. Then he found it, the nub that made you moan his name in pleasure. “Yes- please- right there Jace.” You moaned, grabbing his wrist out of want. 

He smiled to himself and felt himself become even harder, unable to stop himself he began humping the bed softly while rubbing circles on your clit at the same time. He joined you in your moans and soon you trapped his hand between your legs when you closed your thighs shut as you came, feeling the wetness gushing out of you, almost screaming your husband's name. Jace stopped moving to avoid cumming and removed his hand when you had calmed down and opened your legs again. “That was amazing Jace, I think I’m...prepared enough now.” You smiled hazily at him. “Alright, as you wish.” He said before moving his hips close to yours, gripping is cock and sliding his tip across your slit, trying to find your entrance. When he slipped in, you both let out a moan. He stayed still for some time to let you get used to his size. After a while he moved deeper into your wet cunt making him moan again, never in his life could he have imagined the pleasure, finally understanding why men are so desperate for it. 

“Are you alright? Can I start moving?” He asked you not sure if you had adjusted enough. “Yes I’m okay, it doesn’t hurt as bad as I thought it would.” You reassured him, it was indeed better than you thought. So he started moving his hips slowly, grinding against you while trying not to moan too loud, he was clearly in heaven. After a couple of thrusts he began moving faster not being able to help himself, you just felt too good. “Oh Jace, yes- you feel so good.” You moaned his thrusts starting to feel better each time he moved in and out of you. Jace then moved closer against you, pressing his chest against yours, burying his face in your neck, now absolutely pounding into you hard. He couldn’t help but moan your name over and over again against your neck. 

But he really did it when he moved to be hitting you right against the spongy spot that made you scream for more. You begged him to finish inside you, all you could feel, see and smell was Jace. He was filling your every sense. The slapping of your skin and your moans surely to be heard in the halls, but you were too focused on Jace and chasing your own high to notice. Jace’s balls pounded against your ass and even that felt good. You could tell by his moaning, stuttering and heavy breathing that he was getting close to his release. Luckily you were dangerously close yourself, and this time it felt different somehow, like it was going to be more consuming. You moaned Jace’s name at every thrust and he started to get sloppier. Just as he was about to cum you felt yourself squirting hard, soaking the sheets underneath you, you arched your back and your hands gripped on to the mattress for dear life, screaming your husband's name. Your walls tightening around him made him fill you with his seed, as he moaned loudly. You gasped for air as you had apparently been holding your breath due to the intensity of your release. Confused as to what just happened. 

Jace kissed your neck and moved to your side to hold you in his arms. “What just happened?” You asked him, slightly embarrassed at the soaked sheets. “It’s okay, I read that it can happen when women feel extremely good, so it’s quite the compliment I suppose.” He grinned. You smiled at him and wrapped your arms around him, hugging him close. “I love you Jace.” You said, kissing his cheek. “I love you too, my beautiful wife.” He said, stroking your hair. You definitely didn’t need to be nervous anymore and you knew for sure this would become a frequent activity.

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

Let me know what you think of this one, and I hope you like it! xx

[dorabellingham]

Halloween

warning: there are scares, but i don't think anyone gets scared like that

characters: jude x reader

summary: when you decide to have a little more fun on the night of the 31st but you're really scared

request: yes

may contain spelling and translation errors!

On Halloween night, the streets of Birmingham were decorated with jack-o'-lanterns, fake cobwebs, and decorations that created a humorous atmosphere of terror. You had convinced Jude to go to a haunted house. It seemed like a fun idea, a way to relive the mild horror thrills of when you were kids. But as soon as you arrived in front of the dark, foggy building, you began to question your choices.

You held Jude's hand tightly, staring at the facade with wide eyes. The house seemed to be crumbling under the weight of years and neglect, but somehow that only made it scarier.

—Jude, are you sure you don't want to do something else? Like watch a scary movie at home?

Jude laughed, squeezing your hand affectionately.

—You said yourself you wanted to be scared, right? Are you scared?

You lifted your chin, trying to look confident.

—Scared? Me? I just want to make sure you can hold yourself together and not run away when something scary comes along.

He chuckled, wrapping his arm around your shoulders as they walked inside.

—I’ll be here, holding on to you. The question is… who’s going to run away first?

As soon as you entered, you felt the air grow thicker, stuffier, and a shiver ran through you. The place was very well decorated, full of visual effects, sounds of chains, sinister laughter, and here and there, actors dressed as ghosts, murderers, and horror figures lurked in the shadows. Each step seemed to echo in the darkness, making you jump at any movement that escaped the corner of your eye.

—See? Don’t worry.

Jude whispered, as if holding back laughter. But your hand was clasped around his so tightly that he could barely move it.

You walked through narrow hallways, where old dolls stared at the visitors with empty eyes. You were curled up tighter and tighter, hugging your boyfriend's arm, but trying to keep a straight face so as not to show panic. However, when a ghostly figure slid out of a wall with a shrill scream, you let out a scream and clung to Jude as if your life depended on it.

—Jude Victor!

You whispered, hiding your face in his chest.

He chuckled softly, holding you closer and lightly stroking your back to reassure you.

—I told you I'd be here, didn't I? They're just trying to scare you... but no one will come near you, I promise.

You lifted your face enough to look at him with an expression divided between fear and distrust.

—Babe, I'm not kidding. I think there are people behind us. They're following us!

He tried hard to contain his laughter, but it was clear that the situation was very funny to him.

—It's just a trick, sweethear. Look. —He said, gesturing to the actor who had crept further back, a man dressed as a zombie with expressionless eyes. —They're pretending, just so we can have a different night.

But you didn't calm down. With each step, the place seemed more claustrophobic, more sinister. The walls were decorated with terrifying images and, in the distance, the sounds of chains dragging seemed to come from a hidden room. At a certain point, a hooded figure appeared next to you, extending a skeletal hand, and you let out another muffled scream, clinging even tighter to Jude's arm.

—Okay, I can see you're taking it seriously. —He said, trying to hide how cute he found the way you clung to him. —Do you think you want to get out of here, or do you want to go all the way?

You looked at him, and your pride prevented you from asking to leave.

—No... I can.

But with each new hallway, each new sinister figure, you shrank back more, tightening your arms around him.

You reached a room full of distorted mirrors, and as you passed through the center, a figure appeared out of nowhere in the reflection, as if it were directly behind them. You let out a small scream and buried your face in Bellingham's shoulder, unable to face the situation.

—Babe. —He said, his voice cracking with laughter. —This is just a game.

He wrapped his arms around you, protecting you as if he were the only real thing there.

You finally looked up, feeling his reassuring touch on your back.

—You think this is funny, huh? Just wait until you get scared too. I'll laugh a lot when it happens.

Jude looked at you with a challenging smile.

—Me? Get scared? Never.

When they finished the route, they passed through one last dark hallway, and you felt a small wave of relief.

—Finally, it’s over…

But just as they were almost at the exit, a hooded figure appeared with a fake knife, screaming. You grabbed Jude so hard that he almost lost his balance, but he kept his arm firmly around you, laughing softly.

—Fuck, Jude! What's this shit?

You, still shaking, lightly punched him in the chest.

—See? You survived.

—You laughed the whole time! I don’t know how you manage to be so calm!

He pulled you closer, kissing your forehead.

—Because I knew nothing would happen to you as long as you were with me.

Still recovering from the shock, you smiled, leaning into his embrace. As scary as the haunted house was, the feeling of safety next to Bellingham was something that no ghostly figure could shake.

[fluffylino]

ghostface ! hyunjin

little did you know you'd end up bumping into someone unexpected at a halloween party

-suggestive? so flirtatious istg

you weren't this type of person. the type of person in college to actively go seeking out parties and big frat parties. infact thats what you'd probably prefer avoiding. classmates and seniors drinking till they pass out or doing god knows what in bathrooms.

it was scary to be amongst so many people yet deep down you really wished you could experience a party like this. atleast for once in your life.

a recently made friend encouraging you to join her and her group of five friends. you weren't exactly on that level of closeness to go out with them but they genuinely were sweet. you felt like you could trust them. however they weren't as much into halloween as you.

you were wild on the inside. god knows what they'd ever say if they ever found out you found ghostface attractive.

not the killing and gore and all. just the idea of a mask like that. hiding someone's appearance completely.

yet all one could see was their physical figure, mannerisms and...their voice.

"you've never watched scream? the 1996 film?" you questioned, voice raising in pitch as they all shook their heads.

"oh is it that ghostface dude you keep mentioning?"

"technically yeah...imagine bumping into somebody wearing that whole outfit...here..in this place"

you said, getting a little anxious as you saw the classmates dressed up as various characters. some a little too gory and drenched in fake blood.

it was a halloween party afterall.

"I really hope he's there..." another friend chimes in. her cheeks visibly turning red. her and her huge ass crush on this guy.

"hm and if he is? what you gonna do with him" you can't help but tease her. nudging her shoulder and wriggling your eyebrows mischieviously. she laughed nervously.

"shhh what are you saying! dirty dirty!" her eyes widening. internally you questioned the innocence of this poor girl. she wasn't the type to think dirty thoughts.

"you think hyunjin will really be here?"

she whispered, looping her arm around yours. both of yall walking past people and into the house. streamers and decorations all over. lights dimmed down and occasionally flashing. the music louder than expected.

"..hwang? hm i don't know" you mumbled, feeling a bit shaky. guilt setting in slowly.

the thing was...you may have had a teeny weeny crush on him as well. however you pushed it aside when you found out she liked him like crazy. she described it as falling in love with him completely. it was a little too extreme but you simply laughed along. knowing all too well that they had never even spoken once in the previous semester.

hyunjin was a senior by a year or three. watching him from afar in the canteen. heart thumping faster than usual when he glanced your way too many times to be casual.

"he's looking at me, isn't he?" she'd always blush and say, trying to avoid him in all the possible ways.

a little delusion because it took only a few instances for you to figure out that he was...looking at you everytime you either walked to buy some coffee or whenever you'd be laughing and cracking jokes.

but you never know? maybe you just thought he knew your existence.

its only when the music gets louder and more people start coming in do things get overwhelming. grabbing a few shots of soju and downing it quicker than ever.

"we're gonna go there okay?" she slurs, waving goodbye and running off somewhere amidst the crowd with the other three. you hum to yourself, smacking your forehead. beginning to feel the alcohol kick in.

just when you think you should leave, your eyes land upon a mask. worn by someone who looks absolutely sculpted.

no flowy robe to match the creepy mask yet the way his arms looked in a tank top the stranger wore was worth drooling over.

looking away quickly when he turns his head towards you.

"god-...f-fuck he's hot..." you mumble breathlessly to yourself. cheeks burning and body on fire.

trying to steal another glance at the stranger. however he had vanished. was he in the crowd or did he go to the kitchen or backyard or-

"looking for me, honey?"

neck spinning to the side to come face to face with the elongated mouth and downward eyes of the spooky mask. a choked out shout leaving you.

"u-uh i-...i m-mean" you don't even know what you're saying at this point.

its the way he's leaning over you. towering above you.

"sooo you got a boyfriend?"

his voice goes straight to your core. its insane how turned on you are. realising he's playing along. reciting lines from the film.

"why? you wanna ask me out on a date?"

dragging your syllables. its the alcohol thats talking now. growing more confident and comfortable with this supposed stranger.

"maybe..."

the mask tilts comically.

leaning down even lower. that is until he sits on the short table opposite to you. carelessly dropping a few leftover candies on the ground. its a mess anyways.

he moves closer. thick thighs on either side of yours. his elbows resting on his knees as he seems to stare back.

expressions hidden under the damn mask. seeing just a sliver of his eyes under the mesh.

"you're pretty...pretty hot to not have one" muffled behind the mask. you can hear him breathe.

eyes trailing down to his arms unconciously.

"you think i'm hot? even though i'm dressed up as joker?" you chuckle. blushing incredibly hard.

because for some reason this stranger felt familiar. his mannerisms and his physique.

"even hotter, baby"

his voice. you've heard it before. you feel like you know this man's voice. no wonder you were enthralled. why couldn't you pinpoint who it belonged to?

"do i know you?" you sit up quickly. mimicking 'ghostface' who sat infront of you.

moving closer till his body heat engulfed you.

"mh do you?"

he tilts his head, humming condescendingly. goosebumps rising on your skin when his hands carefully rest on your knees.

"cause I definitely know you honey"

again.

your heart races.

unconciously leaning into him.

"you do? i see this little game you're playing" you tease. placing your hands on top of his. he lets you.

"m'not playing any games sweetie"

the man laughs lowly. shoulders shaking and neck arching to look down at you. growing more and more interested.

"yeah? then why don't you show me whose under this mask"

gently placing your index under his chin. his hands resting higher on your thighs now.

"oh i couldn't. that would ruin the fun wouldn't it."

allowing you to play around with the edge of the mask. edging him on mercilessly.

"what if i said i wouldn't mind it staying on"

you whisper, eyes meeting his briefly. arousal pooling in your abdomen.

whoever this was. you knew him for sure.

"while we talk? or did you mean during sex? please do tell, doll"

his voice drops an octave lower and you let your instincts kick in. forcing you to your limits with his teasing.

pushing the mask up just enough to kiss him senselessly.

it takes him by surprise, and you find yourself clinging onto him. his hands sliding higher to hold your waist.

quite literally using his strength to pull you right onto his lap. the low table creaks at the weight of two .

(lord have mercy we must stay focused brothers we MUST STAY FOCUSED AAA sorry i had to lolz)

"f-fuck...who are you..." you whisper, nose brushing against his. he huffs out a breath. choosing to kiss you with more fervour.

your fingers slipping under the mask.

shakily pushing it higher until your heart throbs. but that isn't the only thing throbbing when you see his uncovered face.

hyunjin.

"y-you...hyu-njin" going absolutely speechless as it sets in.

you're kissing hwang hyunjin.

the senior you thought you'd never even have the courage to talk to.

the mild taste of peach soju on his tongue. quietly opening your mouth for him to trail his tongue over your bottom lip.

the dark mesh falling over your face when you let go of the mask to fist at his fluffy hair. you could run your fingers through his hair.

his grip on your thighs strong enough to firmly keep you planted directly over where you could feel him.

getting worked up with how affected you were.

the feeling of his hands, his hair, his hot mouth moving passionately...his covered length....

"your friend. tell her you're with me, baby"

hyunjin pants out, nudging his lips to the corner of your mouth. your eyes widen, heart pounding.

"tell her im kissing you"

it felt like you were committing a sin. but you just couldn't bring yourself to care that much.

"tell her...i don't plan on letting you go home anytime soon"

.

.

.

.

ha ha ha ha ha ha ha surprise!

its a late halloween present but who cares! ghostface hyunjin has made an appearance acjwugsbsjskskshs~

<3333

[thoughtsfromlayla]

26 Ways of Taking You: A for Aphrodisiac

Summary: On a quest to save your little brother, you and your fated companion Dream of the Endless, run into a small problem in Aphrodite's Temple.

Notes: ~2.2k words, GUYS! I finally wrote a fic that wasn't below 500 or above 5,000 words, it just doesn't need any random side characters... or a definitive plot.

Warnings: MDNI - 18+, dubious consent, sex pollen, aphrodisiac (duh), porn without plot, unprotected sex (get tested yearly guys), P in V, no foreplay just straight fucking, Dream is a red flag but he's my red flag. I am willing to die on that hill.

⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

B for Breeding

“A temple of Aphrodite?” You question as you walk through the marbled entrance. The overwhelming smell of roses fills your senses and the honks of swans disappear as you cross into the building.

Morpheus follows closely behind. The drizzle of rain seemingly bounces off his coat and hair leaving him dry like the Sahara. On the other hand, you, the poor human with no otherworldly affiliations, were soaked to the bone. Your light jacket and sundress stuck to your skin until it became itchy and you quickly take off your jacket to dry easier in the momentary shelter. 

You miss the way Morpheus stares at your exposed shoulders and legs. His eyes run up and down your body, to the way the dress sticks to you like a second skin.

“Aphrodite loved Ares, unlike her vowed husband. But such is the game of gods.” Morpheus explains and peels his eyes away from you. 

You lean on a large pillar that supports a large brazier, one of many others. The heat helps you warm up and the shivers slowly leave your body as it dries your clothes. 

“So, Ares is… here?” You say without much confidence.

When the fates set you out on this quest to find your brother, you hadn’t even packed your lunch yet. They just threw you to the wind and then gave you Morpheus as a guide. As for him, it was so “He could get out of the house more” as his older sister has explained it to you. 

So, here you were, soaked in summer rain and sharing conversation with Dream of the Endless on a quest to find your kidnapped brother - all of which happened since this morning. The everything bagel and cream cheese you had for breakfast sat uncomfortably in your stomach, the same stomach that was screaming at you to eat something as your journey had left you to skip the midday meal. 

“Ares is behind this gate created by Aphrodite,” Dream sighs as if he were spelling out the obvious. “Yes, it is a possibility.”

You simply roll your eyes. For someone who is almost infinitely older than you, he certainly didn’t act like it. Feeling warmer and dry you started exploring the temple, running your fingers across the divots in the carved stone much like the climbing ivy that decorated the walls. 

At the end of the temple stood a magnificent statue of Aphrodite herself, wrapped in cloth and her hair flowing in the wind. Beneath her pedestal, you could make out a rectangular outline made out of large roses. 

“Hey! The door!” You exclaim in excitement. As much as you hate to admit it, Morpheus was right. He usually was right but you’d rather keep that comment to yourself, in case the ego inflates any more of his head and he drifts off. Which, would unfortunately leave you on your own to solve these puzzles. 

Morpheus appears behind you, peering over your shoulder at the door. 

“Seems like a hidden mechanism. It would be wise to not touc-”

You press your palm onto the center of the door and it gives away to the pressure of it. 

“You fool!” Morpheus seethes out and you tense. 

It seems like a trap, now that you think about it. With bated breath you wait, slowly inching yourself closer to Morpheus in hopes that the King of Dreams may be able to protect you if something were to go wrong. 

Yet, nothing. 

The door slides back into place, the sound of marble against marble scraping against each other in the otherwise completely quiet sanctuary. The quiet atmosphere stays peaceful for a few seconds but ends when a yelp escapes you when the roses suddenly go into full bloom, the petals giving a “floosh” right in your face, its sweet pollen dusting both of your bodies. You stare wide-eyed at it waiting for anything else to happen. When nothing did, you let out a sigh of relief and turn to Dream with a smile. 

“See, nothing to worry about.” You shrug with your palms facing upwards. The two of you stare back as a golden engraving appears on the door. 

“One from two, enter together.” You read out loud while trying to dust off the shimmering pollen, sneezing when some enter your nose instead. 

Great, a riddle but nothing comes to your mind as you think. Morpheus glares at you still and his eyes drift down to the palm that touched the door. 

“Your hand is glowing,” He states. 

You look down at your open palm and panic. The skin is bright pink and as Morpheus has stated, glowing. You scream at your hand and shake it aggressively. When the glowing still doesn’t reside you scream again and face the palm towards Morpheus’ face and shake it aggressively to grab his attention. 

“Enough,” He commands and grabs your wrist. The grip is stern but it doesn’t hurt and the warmth of his skin calms you down. 

It is now that you realize that the skin doesn’t actually hurt. There’s no burning sensation or pins or needles, nothing. Morpheus takes a closer look at your hand and you can feel the exhale of his breath fanning your palm. It tickles and you try to pull away, but his grip doesn’t relent. 

“What? Do you see something?” You ask, your other hand is clenched in on itself as a way of grounding yourself. 

Morpheus doesn’t entertain you with an answer and instead brings his face closer. A sound that you didn’t know you could produce comes out from your throat as you feel the warm, slick feeling of his tongue on your palm. 

“Wha..mm” Your words fall short and he licks again and a whimper leaves your lips. You look up at him, his eyes are closed as he inhales deeply.

He brings your hand to his cheek and leans into it. When you release your hand and he lets you, you see that your glowing mark has smeared to his cheek. You come in closer, nervous about marking the Endless but he stops you again. He peers at you, all silver gone from his eyes and instead blown pupils pull you deep into their voids. 

His hands find themselves around your waist and you place your hands on his chest to stop him from invading any more of your space. It doesn’t and he advances still. His brooding act doesn’t help with voicing whatever he could possibly be thinking. 

“Hey, what’s gotten into you,” You release a moan at the end when he presses his nose to the junction of your neck. The hot breath released from his mouth had your lower regions start to grow hot and slick. 

When his tongue licks the length of your neck, your fingers grasp desperately at the lapels of his jacket, holding on tight as your knee buckle beneath you. Morpheus smelled like grass after a summer thunderstorm and he stood sturdy like an old oak tree. 

You whisper his name and his grip tightens more, bruising and unforgiving. 

He groans into your neck. “Aphrodisiac.” 

Of course, Aphrodisiac, named after the goddess Aphrodite, the very goddess you are trying to please and solve her riddle. The thought crosses your mind momentarily but it is quickly cut short by Morpheus’ continued administration. The pink stain spreads further on Morpheus, anywhere and everywhere you touch him. Your cheek was pink as well, where he touched yours and markings of his tongue glowed pink as he continued his kisses down your neck and across your collarbone. 

“Oh, gods,” You moan into his hair as he dives deeper towards your chest. Your body is turning hot and you can’t tell if it’s just the aphrodisiac or the way he is touching you. Perhaps it’s neither, perhaps it’s both. Either way, you can’t stop the sounds that escape your lips. 

He presses forward and you step back until your back hits the pedestal and Morpheus’ large frame follows, trapping you between a rock and a harder place. You can feel his erection pressing against your stomach, hot and heavy and begging to be released. 

With restraint, Morpheus pulls back and pants into your neck. Your own breath was ragged, your tongue felt heavy when you speak. 

“Please,” You whisper, your hands travel down his chest, pink smearing along his black shirt, and cup his erection. 

He looks at you now, eyes peering into your soul asking you if you really did want this. You nod, not trusting your voice for a second time. 

“Say it,” He commands again, his forehead pressed against yours. “Say it,” He whispers in a plea. 

You tip your head up and respond with the strength you have left. “Yes,” You murmur against his lips, barely brushing yours with his own. 

He seals the deal with a kiss and hands once again go to your waist. He grabs you, hoisting you up and your legs immediately wrap themselves around his lean torso. You impatiently grind your heat into his as he dips his hands below your dress line and moves your undergarments to the side. 

It was rushed, it was sloppy and it was nowhere near romantic, yet you’ve never felt so much excitement. No one was near but the peering gaze of the daunting Aphrodite statue made you feel exposed. Morpheus doesn’t bother to warm you up for him and the heat of his cock presses against your cunt. He pushes forward and it stings. Tears swell in your eyes at the intrusion, his cock splitting you open as he sets a rhythmic pace. 

“Forgive me, forgive me,” He chants into your ear but the words fly in one ear and out the other. The pleasure the Dream Lord was giving you more important and present in your mind. 

Your hand reaches into his hair and grabs onto his roots. A groan sings from his throat and you can’t help it when your lips connect to his Adam’s apple. You leave bruising kisses along his neck and continuously feel the vibrations of his moans, each one low and gritty. 

Morpheus felt like he was about to lose his mind if he didn’t quickly finish the two of you off. His body felt like it was on fire and his head pounded in his skull with ideologies of fucking you until you were nothing but a pile of pleasure. When your nails grip his shoulders, he welcomes the pain and bites down on your collarbone to suppress his wanton moans. 

You were too sweet for him, a type of innocence that he didn’t want to taint. Tears well up in his eyes as he realizes that he did it without him even knowing. The aphrodisiac completely consumes the two of you. He loved it, the feeling of your legs wrapped around his waist, your grip on his hair, your moans filling the space and echoing around the temple, but were not his to take. 

“More, more, more,” You moan, head thrown back towards the ceiling and he couldn’t deny you the pleasure.

His thrusts become ferocious, slamming into you harder and harder until you were just a babbling mess in front of him. Your words range from his name to curses to simple pleas. The contractions of your cunt spasming around him make him falter for a moment but he presses on. When your orgasm reaches you, your scream is muffled by his open mouth kiss. His thrusts turn sloppy and uneven before he finishes as well and you feel the way his cock pulses within you. His semen drips out of your spent hole and mixes with your release on the polished marble floor. 

Your body deflates as the orgasm finishes and you’re left panting and leaning on Morpheus as your thighs tremble around his waist. The door behind you opens with an ungodly scrapping sound and you look behind you. Lust was still evident in your eyes but you were pulled back to the real world again. 

The aphrodisiac wore off and a blush rose high into your cheeks. You push against Morpheus’ chest not wanting to be in his space, asking him to put you down, but quickly realize that it was a bad idea when your knees buckle and you start to fall. 

Morpheus grabs onto you to steady you and you murmur a thanks, too embarrassed to look at him in the eyes. The aphrodisiac has made you look at Morpheus in a different light, but there were more important matters at hand. You take one steady breath and readjust your underwear and dress, Morpheus releases his grip on your arms as you go to turn towards the open door. 

Beyond the door is nothing but darkness with a slight wind blowing out towards you and the smell of metal and leather comes into your nose. Before you can go, Morpheus’ fingers wrap around your arm again. 

“Should we… talk about it?” He asks in that low voice of his. 

You look back at him, somehow finding the confidence to look at him in the eyes. You find that they are full of adoration and passion that it turns your eyes downwards again. You’ve heard the rumors of what it means to be the lover to Dream of the Endless. It is rainbows and butterflies, the world at the edge of your fingertips, but one wrong move, and you are cast away like you were less than nothing. You think of Nada, Queen of the First People, who is still condemned to Hell for declining his promise to make her queen of the Dreaming. 

It’s too much, you have your brother to save, and there is no room to talk about love. 

“Later,” You say instead. You still need his help and if the promise of ‘later’ keeps him around long enough until the end of your quest, then so be it. 

“Very well. Later,” He repeats then follows you into the realm of Ares.

B for Breeding

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Want to be added to my tag list for my future fics? Comment, send me a message, or a DM and I'll add you!

This is going to be a 26 part series, all porn, no plot hehe ( ๑‾̀◡‾́)

Until the next fic,

♡ Yours, Layla

[seoulmatez]

— 𝓈𝓊𝓃𝒹𝒶𝓎 𝓂𝑜𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔 ౨ৎ

multicharacter (suo, kiryu, umemiya, & togame) x reader. 2k wc. ﾉ sfw ﾉ fluff ﾉ one suggestive bit the end of togame's ( if u squint ) ﾉ mornings spent with them!

a/n: it’s my first time writing 3/4 of these characters so apologies if my characterization is off — i’m working on it!

ᡣ𐭩 SUO HAYATO

people say it’s normal for partners to pick up habits from each other and you suppose your relationship with suo is no different. you’ve taken up joining him for his morning meditation sessions, making it a ritual of your own. even now, the two of you sit side by side on the rug in your living room, coffee table pushed to the side, patio door open to let in the sound of chirping birds and soft wind that characterize the calm nature of morning.

you hear his breathing from beside you, each breath deep and controlled. his very presence is enough to set your mind and being at each but as you mimic his technique, you begin to wonder what thoughts run through his head during these brief, relaxing moments. perhaps he has a mantra he repeats to himself or maybe he simply takes the time to mentally walk himself through his tasks for the day as preparation. 

would it be naive of you to hope that his mind wanders to you? it’s not so unreasonable to think that he can feel your presence as well, no? maybe you have the same effect on him—maybe he’s found a new sense of serenity in your proximity. you’ve certainly started enjoying mornings more given the opportunity to share this time with him. it feels like the two of you are secluded in your own impenetrable bubble, inaccessible to the outside world and any distractions it may throw your way—

the bubble pops with the feel of fingers tickling your exposed sides. your eyes fly open at the unexpected contact and all that steady breathing you had been focused on goes out the door as the sound of your giggles penetrates the once-quiet air. despite obvious evidence of an attack, the perpetrator is nowhere in sight. it’s not until you tip your head back in uncontrollable laughter that you finally see him—suo situated behind you with a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

tears pool at the corners of your eyes as you try to pry his fingers away but you’re no match for him. his hands only still at your sides when you collapse against his chest in defeat. your uneven breathing fills the room, punctuated by a chuckle from suo. the vibration from him causes you to turn your eyes up to meet his.

dark hair and an eyepatch almost shield his gaze but one cherry brown eye is still on display and it’s looking straight down at you. “i thought meditation was supposed to be calm and relaxing.”

“sorry,” he apologizes, but you doubt its genuineness when he playfully pinches each side of your tummy, drawing a squeak out of you. “i took a peek and you looked so cute and concentrated—i just couldn’t help myself.”

his hands come up to cradle your face, lithe fingers running along the curve of your jaw before he dips down to steal a kiss. his lips are soft and warm and easily restore that soothing feeling you associate him with. you suppose it’s enough to earn your forgiveness.

ᡣ𐭩 KIRYU MITSUKI

“your pink is starting to fade,” you tell kiryu, your fingers combing through the soft pink strands. he’s sitting on top of the toilet seat with his legs crossed, still dressed in the pajamas he slept in. it’s funny—how soft he looks in his matching set with messy bedhead despite all of the metal jewelry decorating his face. 

one of his hands pokes out from the satin sleeve that’s just a bit too long to reach up and take hold of a tuft of hair. the pieces of hair that are usually clipped back hang in front of bright green eyes as he examines the lightened strands. 

“should we refresh it with more pink?” you ask. there’s plenty of dye left over from the last time you colored his hair stored underneath the sink. it wouldn’t take too long and neither of you are in a rush to leave the house, though, before you make a move to grab it or even wait for an answer, another thought pops into your head. “or maybe we can try another color?”

kiryu lets the hair fall from between his fingers and turns his eyes up toward you. a cat-like grin pulls at his lips and there’s a curious sparkle in his dazzling irises. “oh? any suggestions?”

you take in the pink that has dulled to a pale hue, like a cherry blossom past its prime, and the darker hair that has started growing in at the roots. with a contemplative hum and head tilt, you share your thoughts. “maybe we could bleach it and keep it blonde?”

“nah.” he shakes his head, floppy hair bouncing with each back-and-forth movement. “that’ll wash me out.”

you can’t help the laugh you breathe out at his reasoning. ever so insightful, you think, toying with his silky soft strands. it makes sense, though—kiryu’s always been in tune with the intricacies of his appearance, understands what looks are flattering on him and which styles to avoid. you wouldn’t be surprised if he knew more about cosmetology and fashion than you did.

“you’re right.” you nod your head in agreement. truly, you’re sure that blonde would look just fine on him, to you and everyone else at least, but knowing his preferences and what he tends to steer clear of makes it too easy to tease him. you try to hide your smile with your next words. “orange could be fun though, yeah?”

his smile doesn’t waver but his eyebrows do knit together in a show of disapproval. “did you wake up on a mission to turn me into a clown?”

your laughter echoes off the bathroom walls with his response. kiryu’s expression softens as he takes in how pretty you look when you laugh. he could get used to seeing such a sight every morning. 

you clear the humor from your voice, pushing the hair hung over his forehead back to place a kiss on his hairline. “guess we’re sticking with pink, then.”

ᡣ𐭩 UMEMIYA HAJIME

“i’ll never understand how you’re so good at that,” you say from behind umemiya. your arms are wrapped around his midsection, your head tilted to the side to get a glimpse of the work he’s putting into breakfast. he’s stood at the stove, hands expertly alternating between pouring thin layers of an egg and vegetable mixture into the pan and rolling the layers into an omelet. you’ve tried the task on your own several times in the past and none of your attempts have ever come close to what umemiya delivers.

he chuckles, the rumble of the sound vibrating against your arms that hold him. that makes it even more impressive—even with you clinging to him, he has no trouble making the picture-perfect dish. “lots of practice. don’t sell yourself short—yours are good too.”

“you shouldn’t lie, ume.” you pinch his side but the action only draws out another laugh. he’s so kind he won’t consider saying something that might hurt your feelings—even if it’s true, even over something as trivial as eggs. you love that about him, how he always considers the feelings of others.

you can only hope that you’re able to repay all of his kindness.

“i know i would have ruined the omelet but are you sure there’s nothing else i can help with?”

“hey, i told you not to worry about anything,” he lightly scolds you for looking for something to do. he told you earlier that he could handle preparing breakfast on his own this morning—something about wanting to treat you to the first harvest of the vegetables he was growing in his garden. they’re sprinkled into the meal—the carrots and scallions in the omelet, the pickled daikon waiting to be plated. “the only job i’m tasking you with is to relax.”

“fine, fine. i’ll leave everything to you.”

despite your compliance to stick to relaxing, you follow umemiya around the kitchen as he cooks, commenting on how good everything looks and simply watching him in his element. you don’t get to focus much on him when the two of you cook together and you have to admit that it’s nice seeing him do something he loves with such a satisfied smile on his face.

before long, breakfast is finished and plated on the table, you and umemiya sitting opposite of each other. you pick up your utensils and a piece of the rolled omelet with them. you bring it to your mouth and are a second away from taking a bite when you notice the light-haired man isn’t mirroring your actions. “aren’t you going to eat?”

“yeah.” he nods and then points to your food. “you give it a taste first.”

without directly asking, he wants to know what you think. you give in to his request and take a bite of the omelet. just as all of his cooking is, the dish is incredible. you shoot him and smile and nod in approval while you chew which earns a chuckle.

“good?”

“even better than usual,” you tell him after swallowing. “your veggies were definitely the secret ingredient.”

your compliment makes his smile grow wider. it’s nice to know you can bring him happiness the same way he does for you.

ᡣ𐭩 TOGAME JO

even with the curtains closed, a sliver of sunlight passes through them, lighting up a stripe of skin on your face. your eyes flutter open and are met with the light. it’s bright and warm, signifying the start of the day. you glance at the sleeping figure in front of you with all of his messy dark hair and beauty marks scattered about his skin. the light doesn't seem to have disturbed him and you can’t find it in yourself to rouse him.

you plan to let him snooze for a bit longer while you get an early start to the day. his arm lazily draped over you, you attempt to scooch back and simply let it fall, though, as soon as you make a move to leave, his arm tightens around you. 

“i’m getting up, kame,” you whisper, hoping your voice isn’t loud enough to really wake him up. you make another move to leave the bed but find yourself pulled even closer to the warm body. he groans restlessly but you don’t buy it—once is a coincidence, twice is a pattern.

you grin at his disguised effort to keep you from getting up. not entirely convincing but you can’t deny its efficacy—he has kept you in bed. “you’re terrible at pretending to be asleep.”

“can you blame a guy for trying?” he asks, eyes still closed, voice groggy from not having been used in hours. “i’d rather stay in bed with you than go out and do anything.”

it’s flattering to think that he’d rather spend time in bed doing nothing with you over any other way he could spend his day. you’d be lying if you said the prospect wasn’t tempting but you know better than to indulge. agreeing to another ten minutes is essentially akin to signing your entire morning away and unlike togame, you actually have some things to get done today.

“what about all the stuff i have to do today?” you ask. you have a sneaking suspicion that you already know the answer but you want to hear it for yourself.

his eyes finally drift open, putting green irises on display. his gaze is sleepy but there’s a lingering glint of humor in it. “i’m sure it can wait a short while.”

“i knew you were going to say that,” you tell him through a quiet laugh. togame’s lips curl up in a smile as he presses his forehead against yours, only loose, dark curls separating his skin from yours. maybe you should be annoyed at how easily he’s willing to set your day back but the truth is, he’s right—everything else can wait. 

you breathe in deeply, letting your hand come up to play with the thick strands of hair at the nape of his neck. “how do you suppose we spend the morning in bed?”

his lips brush against yours, stopping at the corner of your mouth to press a kiss there. his breath tickles you with his next words. “i can think of a couple things to do.”

thanks for reading! if u enjoyed, please consider reblogging or commenting ❤︎

[lovesjill]

halloween with scream characters

pairing: billy loomis, stu macher, cici cooper, olivia morris

warnin: it's just my headcanons about characters

author notes: happy halloween, my pinkies!

billy loomis

billy is the type of person who thinks halloween is a little tacky, but he enjoys the opportunities it provides to play pranks and scare people.

billy enjoys scaring people, he enjoys the dress-up aspect. the idea of ​​making others afraid and the adrenaline rush of the fight or flight response make him enjoy the holiday. he would go to a haunted house or a haunted corn maze and laugh the entire time.

on halloween, he would spend the evening taking you for a midnight walk in the woods and going to a few parties with friends. on the way home, he would scare you a time or two.

he will definitely have a horror movie marathon, you will watch horror movies with him all night long snuggled up to him. he might scare you or tickle you from time to time, making you laugh. when you fall asleep, billy will turn off the movie and cover you with a blanket and fall asleep with you

he also loves all those halloween candies, which makes his love for halloween even bigger. you can see him quietly eating candies from time to time

stu macher

just loves halloween!

⁠a big fan of halloween, stu looks forward to the holiday every year, especially as the season approaches. he loves the opportunity to dress up in spooky costumes and enjoys all things creepy and scary.

stu will go all out with his halloween costume. he will try to find a costume that is both unique and matches his personality.

he will of course throw a party at his house, you will help him decorate his house for the party. his parents will leave for a few days for work as always, and the house is at his disposal as always

will be happy all the time and hyperactive as always!

he loves giving candy to children, so he will buy as many sweets as possible.

at a party he will stick to you and won't leave you. he will fool around with you and the guests all the time and just have fun.

stu will compliment your costume and he may even help you create it himself. he will make snide comments about your outfit

cici cooper

I think she really love halloween!

she is the girl who will often be bullied and she likes it and doesn't like it at the same time. she doesn't like being scared because she is an "easy target"

the woman sorority will decorate their house "omega beta zeta" and you and cici will have a lot of work to decorate the house

cici will definitely dress like a black cat. a black dress and ears on her head will suit her very well. It was you who suggested that she dress like that and she agreed. you specially drew cat whiskers on her face to complete her look.

many people complimented your girlfriend, especially guys and you were a little jealous

you'll naturally be at a halloween party, find a secluded spot and eat pizza and watch horror movies together, cuddling

olivia morris

she likes this holiday!

olivia loves to eat sweets with you, but she doesn't like all those horror movies and scary games.

she will definitely be dressed as a witch, the hottest witch you have ever seen. that dark purple dress suited her very well and showed off her body

she's definitely against pumpkin carving, she hates pumpkins.

you both will hang out at one of your friends house for a horror movie marathon, but after a while you both will run away to her house and have fun together at her house doing your girly things

[snailsagere]

Please read my dni in my bio before interacting

I made a computer games to play when regressed so here's phone games to play when regressed!

Phone games to play when regressed!

All of these games are free unless stated otherwise and I will give content warnings if needed! If I miss anything and you think I should include it then feel free to tell me!

🌸= personal favourites

Monster girl maker 1 and 2

Description- it's a cute dress up game where you design monster girls, it's really really cute!

CW- I think it's got some medically stuff and general stuff that may be scary

My little pony pocket ponies

Description- it's a game where you get through enemies using the mlp characters it's quite tricky so I recommend this more for anyone who regresses to older ages but it's still really fun!

CW- none :3

🌸My little pony colour by magic

Description- it's a colour by number game where you colour in scenes and decorate a friendship museum!

CW- none :3

🌸My little pony magic princess

Description- you rebuild equestria and complete quests as well as little in game competitions!

CW- none :3

🌸My little pony celebration

Description- you celebrate loads of different parties hosted by the my little pony characters!

CW- none :3

Toca world

Description- pretty much like a doll house but on your phone, make characters, make them a house and explore the world etc, there are also dlc's you can pay for which add stuff like new locations etc

CW- none :3

Toca hair salon 3

Description- this is a paid game where you cut and style different people's hair!

CW- cartoon scissors, hair cutting equipment etc

🌸Hello kitty around the world

Description- you travel to different countries as hello kitty, learn facts about them and where they are in world! you also earn traditional outfits and food to dress hello kitty and feed her!

CW- none! :3

Hello kitty educational games

Description- play a variety of different games to earn outfits and furniture for hello kitty!

CW- none! :3

🌸Hello kitty fashion star

Description- dress up girls in sanrio clothes!

CW- none! :3

Hello kitty cafe

Description- own a cafe! And play as sanrio characters! This games a bit tricky so I recommend it for older kids! Aswell as that there used to be in app purchases to make it easier but they do not work anymore so keep that in mind!

CW- none! :3

Hello kitty goodnight

Description- you play little mini games to get the hello kitty family to sleep!

CW- none! :3

🌸Littlest pet shop your world

Description- play loads and loads of littlest pet shop mini games and if you have the lps with the rubbery heads you can even scan them into the game!

CW- none! (I haven't played every mini game but it seems fine)

Cats and soup

Description- this is a clicky game where you unlock cats for them to make soup

CW- drawings of cartoony knives (to cut veggies)

Bunnybuns

Description- you play as a bunny making food for customers based on hints they give you

CW- none (I don't remember if they use kitchen equipment but I think they don't, not certain though!)

My talking Angela 2

Description- look after a cat called angela, play mini games etc

CW- none! :3

🌸Virtual families 3

Description- I grew up play virtual families 2!this is the same premise we're you look after a family on your phone!

CW- none! :3

Tsuki odyssey

Description- similar to tsuki adventure but now you're in a new location, you can fish, buy things, decorate your house and see what tsuki gets up to

CW- I think burglary is mentioned at the start

Cats are cute

Description- expand a town of cats, pet them, feed them and play with them!

CW- none! :3

Adorable home

Description- play as a couple and adopt loads and loads of cats, look after them and decorate and expand your house!

CW- none! :3

Any papa's game

Description- cook food for customers! All the papa's games are paid for but they're only £1-£3! My personal recommendation is papa's pancakeria!

CW- some of the games have knives in them

🌸Pokemon playhouse

Description- you collect pokemon and play cute mini games with them! This is a good game for little kids who like pokemon!

CW- none! :3

Pokemon smile

Description- brush your teeth to catch pokemon!

CW- none! :3

Pokemon go

Description- walk around outside and catch pokemon! Definitely recommend doing this when it's less cold hehe

CW- none! :3

Pokemon cafe

Description- a match three gand where you make food and drinks fir pokemon customers!

CW- cartoony knife+kitchen equipment maybe

🌸Egg!

Description- raise eggs until they hatch into cute creatures! I loved this game when I was little

CW- none! :3

🌸My school-learning game

Description- be a teacher in a school and teach characters basic maths and English (it has a few different language options depending on where you're from) you can unlock things but you have to pay for them but what is free is fun

CW- none! :3

Colouring games

Description- colour in pictures!

CW- none! :3

🌸Jungle floof

Description- raise jungle animals and play mini games!

CW- none! :3

🌸Applaydu

Description- a kinder egg toy game! Loads of different activities to do and you can unlock characters by scanning your kinder toys!

CW- none! :3

🌸Duo abc

Description- learn the alphabet and basic words (only English), disclaimer? Maybe? not the same as duolingo, this app is made for children

CW- none! :3

Extras! (games I found while making this list)

Plants vs Zombies 1, 2 and 3

Description- fight zombies by setting up plants with different abilities! I recommend this for older kids, I had pvz 1 and 2 when I was younger and I was very bad at it haha

CW- zombies, ungorey violence (no blood etc)

Sundae picnic

Description- make ice cream for cats and dogs! (please don't actually give cats or dogs ice cream)

CW- none! :3

Pokemon sleep

Description- collect pokemon by sleeping (sometimes the app doesn't record your sleep properly but usually it's ok, still fun either way)

CW- none! :3

Khan kids

Description- I haven't played it yet but it looks like it has little mini games for younger kids on it!

CW- idk :c

[the-fiction-witch]

Baby Dragon

Media House Of The Dragon,

Character Daemon Targaryen

Couple Daemon X Reader (Targaryen Visery's Heir)

Rating Suggestive

Warning Uncle X Neice

I sat at the foot of Balerion's skull bathed in the flames of hundreds of candles. My hair was pulled into a sleek braid down my back, and my red textured dress with my decorative Valyrian steel dress Jelwery, the metal formed into layered spikes like amour across my shoulders and hips with filigree around my breasts. It wouldn't do anything to defend me in a real fight but it was dramatically decorative giving me the illusion of spines that glimmered silver to match my dragon 'Silver Star'. I watched the flames dance in front of me and I fiddled with my rounded Dragonglass necklace between my fingers in the silence. 

I enjoyed the silence heard only my breaths until I suddenly jumped as arms and thick hands wrapped around my waist and he breathed down my neck his breath hot against my skin. I knew by the feeling of his arms and hands were enough to identify him but his voice hissed into my ear. "I'm Home," 

I chuckled a little a sly smile broke across my lips as I did my best to be proper even if I still teased him,  "Ah ... pleasure to see you have returned safe and well Prince Daemon"

He tightened his grip, “What are you smiling at?”

"Can I not smile? I am happy to see you, home uncle,"

“How is it that the thought of seeing me doesn’t bring you to hysterics?” he chuckled as his breath tickled my skin, 

"I admit the thought of seeing you does thrill me. It has been three long years without you." She answered, "However there years is a long time, and... You might say I have changed. And now am at an age where a princess cannot be in hysterics just because her uncle is home" I answered and I could tell immediately he wasn't happy, he didn't like my newly found confidence, he didn't like that he wasn't the one to turn me so hysteric at his meer sight, touch and breath. 

"You've changed," He accused, "Explain." 

"As I said I was pleased to see your return Prince Daemon. And yes while on some level I do indeed wish to... Throw my arms around you and rejoice in your return. A princess should be proper, should she not?"

“I am not your subject to act proper around. What of my wishes, princess? Do they not factor into this equation?”

"And what are your wishes Prince Daemon?" I wickedly smiled as I turned to glance over my shoulder at him meeting his eyes, 

“I wish to hear that you will stop being so goddamn proper and act like the girl I left behind and have you melt in my arms like you did when you were younger, and kiss me without a care in the world." He growled, 

"I'm afraid that is impossible" I chuckled slyly, "my father has spent the last three years ensuring my proper education and behaviour. It is no act. I'm afraid to inform you but... The little girl that would melt into your arms that you left behind is gone, father ensured she was replaced." I turned to face him fully revealing her dress, my Valyrian steel decorative armour and the necklace of dragon glass which took his attention and made him smile as it was a gift he had given me the night before he left for the war and the sight that I still wore it for him after all this time gave him a prideful smile as he stood in his red and black finery with his silvery hair cut short, "As much as our desires may be to do so, there are too many cares in this world to kiss you."

“Damn my fool brother… he has ruined you…” he complained in his frustration, “My gods what has he done to my sweet little Y/n…" he glared as he inspected me, "You're dress is tight, your spikey, your proper and refined,"

"he did what had to be done. I am his heir. A blushing stuttering princess would have no place on the iron throne." I explained, "I suppose I am... No longer your baby dragon," for a moment I let a smile slip through as I spoke the name he had always called me. 

“I suppose you are no longer the baby dragon you once were princess… and what of that necklace? I gave it to you when I left. Do you still have the same sentiment I left with when I gave it to you three years ago?” he asked,

"you asked me to wear it always and think of you. I have never removed it since you left," I admit with a blush, 

“And have you kept to the other rule? Have you missed me since I’ve been gone? Do you think of me every night before you rest your little head to sleep?”

"I have missed you greatly, I wear the necklace always and I think of you nightly as I set my head to sleep I think of ... The night before you left"

“That was quite a night… wasn’t it princess?” he smirked, 

"it was... A night of many Impressive things,"

“Impressive huh? And how many of those many things still haunt your fantasies?”

"all of the things," I admitted, "Tell me Prince Daemon... How many of those things from that night still haunt your own mind, your own fantasies, has the thought of us that night... Kept you warm these long nights of war"

“That night has not left my mind for a single day… not a moment… nor has this foolish girl that had the audacity to grow up when I wasn’t there to keep her in check," he growled as he moved his lips close to my own, 

"humm I did not wish to grow up. To abandon being your baby dragon. However, if you have complaints about the foolishness that grew up and now stands before you." I whispered, "Take it up with your brother. My father. The king"

“Don’t tempt me with that suggestion princess- because I know your father would take delight in denying me such pleasures…" 

"Perhaps that was his intention? To make me his heir to train me to be a proper princess all while you were gone unable to add input. To deny you your baby dragon,"

“Do not tell me you have become so indoctrinated by his teachings that you do not desire the things I gave to you years ago Baby Dragon." he smirked, "You still want me? do you not?"

"what I want. Is not of consequence."

"Not of consequence?" He raised an eyebrow, 

"I am a princess. Heir to the throne. Future of our kingdom and its people... What I want is not relevant. The baby dragon you once made your plaything has been forced away," I explained as I tried to move to put space between us, but he grabbed my arm. 

“I don’t give a damn of your place, princess. I gave you this necklace as a token of my love- to be kept on your person at all times and I do not care what that fool brother of mine wishes for you- you are still mine- to touch, to kiss." He said as he stroked my necklace, "I still want you to be my baby dragon…"

"...he will never allow us our love. Then or now. He is disgusted by our feelings. He will have us sent to death if he ever knew we did so now ... Now that I am mature, that I am at an age of understanding and of consent, now that there is risk I could give you children. My father, my brother. The king of the realm. Will not allow this. As much as I love you and as long as I have loved you." I explained fighting back tears, I pulled off my necklace and held it in my hand as I offered it to him, "I understand if that means... I cannot have this anymore,"

“I would rather die than live a life without you, princess. Just as soon as we are apart I am filled with despair and anguish… no matter how much I try to put my feelings aside I cannot you are meant to be with me…" He said as he took my necklace and slipped it back around my neck, 

"he will put us to death if we ever-"

“I. Do not. Care. What he will do to us… I just want you. I need you. I will have you. No matter what. and I will burn all of the seven kingdoms to be with you," 

"I-I... I know it is foolishness but..."

“But what princess?”

"Dragonstone." I blurted out, "... Steal me. Steal me from your brother. From my father. From this castle. From this kingdom. Take me to Dragonstone. your castle. Take us there on dragon back and make me your bride."

“Steal you?" he smirked,

"Yes."

"Yes, steal you I shall princess and take you to Dragonstone. I shall make you my bride. I will not live another day without you by my side.”

"you would truly do this for me?"

“I would do anything for you Y/n, my baby dragon. I… will not live to see you marry someone else. And I would rather die than not be in your life, not wake up every day without you.” He smirked, “If it means we have to run together to Dragonstone to escape the king and our duty…then so be it. Nothing will keep me from my love and future wife… not even death.”

I smiled and let everything go jumping into his arms wrapped my arms around him but he pushed me away, 

"Ahh! Damn it." He complained before he removed my decorative Valyrian steel dress Jelwery, "You're too spikey baby dragon," he laughed before hugging me tightly again, "I will have you. I will always have you. I will protect you. I will cherish you. You will be mine. My baby dragon. My wife." He cooed, “Do not worry, princess. We shall be gone by the morning. The king will be devastated- but we shall be together. There will be nothing stopping us. Nothing to keep me from putting my lips on yours. I shall claim you now and forever.”

"I do not care for his devastation, I care only that ... This is what you truly want?"

“And what if it is? What if I want you and only you? What if I want to spend the rest of eternity holding you and kissing you? What if I wanted you to be the mother of my children?

what then princess? What then?”

"Then I will happen stolen!"

“Then that is what I shall do to you princess. I will steal my bride. That is what I wish for.” he looked into my eyes, “Do you wish for the same? Will you steal my heart forever then? Will you make me the happiest man alive and claim me forever and claim me as yours for a lifetime to come?”

"I will I swear it on the old gods, the new, the seven, on old valyia and the seven kingdoms.

“Then that is good enough for me- my precious princess, my baby dragon my beloved… I will steal you away and we shall be gone tomorrow morning. You will become my bride. My queen. My love. My wife, forever.”

[senditcolton]

Request: Mean Marty smut. Because “we’re a bad idea” is completed (loved the character progression in that last chapter, by the way), there’s a good chance Lamoriello isn’t re-signing him and Clutter, and this entire off-season has hurt my heart. Dealer’s choice on the content.

- 💛

I'm Not Sentimental, but...

a/n: considering the way I managed to write all of this in a single night I feels just proves how much I kind of missed writing smut. why is it always this man to pull me back to smut writing? the world may never know. inspired by this moodboard by @smileysvech, this ask from a previous thirst night, and this proposal from @comphy-and-cozy, (not sure if you'll get the full epic, but here's a little taste)

Song Inspo: "Billie Bossa Nova" by Billie Eilish Word Count: 5k Warnings: smut. sugar daddy/baby dynamics, bondage, sensory deprivation, oral (m receiving), sex toys, overstimulation, dirty talk, and just general depravity... I'm going to hell, it's fine.

Aman. Premiere Suite. Ten o’clock. Sharp.

That was the four sentence text message Matt Martin had sent you earlier today. A text message that you had been repeating in your head almost religiously, as if being able to recite it from memory would make him forgive you for the fact that it was now 10:15 and you were still a block away.

Hell, being able to recite the message would most likely get you into even more trouble.

Instead of memorizing the now irrelevant text, you should’ve been practicing a rehearsed speech of excuses to tell him when you finally did arrive: your boss kept you at work for longer than expected, you had to stop at your house to get ready, dressing to the parameters that Matt had set in the text massage prior to the one rattling in your brain. Anything that would transfer the blame from you onto someone else. But you knew it would be pointless.

Matt loved reminding you that you were capable of anything. A reminder that was uplifting when brought up in conversations about the education he was helping pay for. A reminder that was shameful when he said it in that degrading tone that made you weak in the knees.

When the two of you had agreed to this dynamic all those months ago, you knew what you were signing up for. Being a sugar baby wasn’t for the meek. That statement was only amplified when you added Matt Martin to the equation.

After all, no sane person would willingly agree to trudge down New York City streets in a set of highly risqué lingerie, the only protection between you and indecent exposure being a long tan trench coat.

Yet… here you were.

A sigh of relief whooshes out of you when you see the neon sign of the hotel ahead, your pace quickening as if that would make up for lost time. You try to keep an air of confidence about you as you walk into the lobby, your heels clicking on the tile floor. The song-and-dance at the front desk is blissfully short – only the words ‘premiere suite’ needed to fall from your mouth before someone is escorting you to the private elevator. You step inside, the doors closing and you watch the LED numbers increase, your heartrate rising with it.

You were so late. You were in so much trouble. But, instead of the dread you should’ve felt at the thought of facing Matt’s disappointment, there was a thrum of excitement running through you.  

It wasn’t anything to lie about. In fact, Matt often liked to tease you, asking if you broke the rules on purpose because you liked the punishment. Whenever he asked, both you and he knew that there was no denying the truth.

It was a deliciously predictable game of cat-and-mouse. You knew exactly how far you could push and he knew exactly how much you could take. It was a transaction, like every other part of your arrangement. And while some might think that knowledge would dampen the mood, it actually just made it even more intoxicating.

The elevator finally stops, the doors opening directly into the suite – an elegantly decorated room decked in the blacks and beiges that screamed bougie. You step forward, out of the elevator, your heels sinking into the carpet as your eyes dart around the room, looking for Matt. You eventually spy the outline of his tall frame in front of the opened bay doors, the cool air streaming in from the balcony, fluttering the curtains. He has his back to you, his arms crossed and you see an empty whiskey glass dangling from his fingers.

He knew you were there. He had to have known that you were there, the elevator ding when you arrived being anything but subtle. Yet, he didn’t acknowledge you – just kept staring out at 5th Avenue.

Perhaps against your better judgement, you decide to break the silence with a gentle whisper of his name but before you could add another word to the single syllable sentence, his voice cuts you off.

“What time is it?”

It’s a somewhat rhetorical question but one that demands an answer nonetheless. He knew the time but more importantly, he knew that you knew the time. But he wanted you to acknowledge it – admit your failings – and that delectable shame causes the heat to rise in your cheeks.

“10:28,” you whisper out and your quiet admission has Matt turning to face you. He looks good, like always. The white button-down shirt is cut perfectly to his body, the black of his slacks and his tan tie making it seem like he belonged in this room. Everything about him screamed power and luxury, from the Windsor knot still snug below his throat, to the Rolex on his wrist, to his cufflinks glinting in the low lamplight.

“10:28,” he repeats. He moves forward, quickly abandoning his glass on a nearby table, his now empty hands coming to grip your chin and tilt your head back to lock your eyes with his. “It’s like you don’t want to see me,” he muses, the dangerous sparkle in his irises only hinting at what was to come.

“Of course, I do,” you rebut, the pleading edge to your voice sounding almost too sickly sweet to even your ears. “But –”

Whatever words you had poised to fall from your lips are silenced by Matt pulling your face towards him to crash his lips against yours. You should hate how much you melt under his touch, how willingly you open your mouth to allow his tongue to have access. But you don’t. It was nearly impossible to hate Matt Martin, even when his lips disappear from yours.

“No excuses, sweetheart. We both know any excuse you have could be resolved if you just let me take care of you entirely,” he whispers, his thumb brushing along your jawline.

The proposal isn’t new; it’s one that he had casually suggested almost every night since your arrangement started. It was also pointless to argue with him because he was telling the truth. He had enough money to make it so you could exist to only be on his arm and at his beck and call. But that wasn’t the life you had envisioned. He knew that. He respected that.

This was your boundary for him; one that he liked to toy at but you knew he would never cross.

“I know,” you whisper, having no other answer to give him. It seems to be enough, that lazy smug smile appearing on his face; the one that had Islander fans cheer and opponents sneer when he was playing. One that occasionally appeared in press conferences he attended as Assistant General Manager. It signals an end to the conversation and acts as a segue into the inevitable.

His hands fall from your face, moving to your coat as he deftly unties the long belt from its cinched position around your waist. The material slips from your frame with a surprising ease, leaving you clad in the lingerie he requested – the set he bought you a week ago. The undergarments are more for decoration than actual function, considering the only coverage on your chest was a pair of satin ribbons and the fabric around your hips disappeared when it came time to cover your core.

“Gorgeous,” he murmurs, his hands delicately tracing the lines of your body, toying with but not undoing the bows on your chest and hips. The sharp breath that he sucks in between his teeth at the sight of you makes the heat pool in your lower stomach.

“Wanted to make sure I looked perfect for you.”

“Think that will excuse you for being late?” he asks, that smirk reappearing as his head cocks to the side. You quickly shake your head in a negative (even though you hoped that flattery would get you out of whatever torture was to come), an action to which his only response is a deep chuckle.

He walks away from you for a moment, the space between Matt’s heat and your newly exposed body allowing the coolness of the night air to hit your skin. You watch him pick up the pale pink leather cuffs that you only now realized had been waiting for you on the table next to the whiskey glass he abandoned a few short minutes ago.

“Wrists.”

The single word is all it takes for you to present your hands to him, watching with baited breath as he wraps the material around your joints, buckling the hardware securely against your skin. You let him guide your arms behind your back, the click of the restraints locking together seemingly reverberating around your ribcage.

“Knees.”

It is somewhat ridiculous how single syllable words are all Matt needs to utter to have you obeying him perfectly. The descent to your knees is easy, the plush carpet forgiving, and your eyes glance up, tracking Matt’s movement as he walks back in front of you, towering over your body more than he usually did. His hands come to his neck, elegant fingers undoing his tie, allowing the material to now drape down either side of his collar. He continues to deconstruct the professional façade he was wearing like a mask, unbuttoning the top buttons of his dress shirt and removing the cufflinks to roll up his sleeves. His hands return to the silken material of his tie, pulling one side until it falls from his frame. It takes you an embarrassingly long time to realize his intentions with said material, a pout forming on your lips as he takes the fabric in both hands.

“Don’t give me that look, darling,” he coos as he moves the material towards your face, the stretch of fabric between his fists the perfect length to wrap around your head, the high-quality silk covering your eyes and plunging the room into darkness. You feel his adept fingers loop the material, careful not to get it tangled in your hair as he tugs a secure knot against the back of your skull.

“Felt like you didn’t want to see me tonight anyway,” he muses, his voice now becoming your only guide as he continues, “since you were almost a half-hour late.”

“I’m sorry,” you whine, knowing that the plea, no matter how pathetic, would fall onto deaf ears.

“I know, sweetheart.”

His reply is pitying but firm – a staple in the dynamic established between the two of you. Rules had been laid out and it was only befitting that when one was broken, a punishment followed.

Although, the sound of his belt buckle coming undone combined with the snap of the leather as it slipped from his belt loops didn’t sound like the beginnings of a punishment to you.

Your mouth opens with practiced ease, outstretching your tongue and submitting yourself to him in what you were sure looked like the most perfect bow-tied present. He chuckles and you feel his fingers grip your chin again before his thumb is pressing against the pink muscle of your tongue.

“That eager for me, aren’t you?”

You only response is to wrap your lips around the digit, gently suckling – just enough to tempt him into giving you the real thing. He laughs, his thumb slipping out of the wet cavern of your mouth before the sound of him unzipping of his dress pants causes your mouth to open again.

It is slight torture, waiting for him, not being able to see him and not being able to know what was coming and when it was coming. But that only heightened the excitement you felt when the delectable weight of his shaft came to rest on your outstretched tongue. You feel the appendage slide against you, the tip of it disappearing into your mouth – shallowly at first but slowly increasing its depth. You press your tongue against the bottom of his length, a silent indication that you were willing and ready to take all of him, one that Matt reads and responds to by holding the side of your head as his hips begin to move, thrusting into your mouth. You relax your throat, allowing him to slip deeper as he takes what he needs from your body, the filthy praise rolling from his lips while yours are otherwise occupied.

“Never get tired of this,” he groans from above you. “Never get tied of seeing your mouth wrapped around my cock. Of feeling your throat constrict around me. Such a good girl – such a pretty perfect slut for me.”

You can hear his words become stuttered, feel the steady rhythm of his thrusts turn staccato and it isn’t long until his climax comes, the feeling of his release filling your mouth almost as intoxicating as the taste of him. You suck, cleaning him with an eager deftness that has him groaning, a trill running through you. You wish you could see him – see the post-orgasm glow that alit his skin, see the way he pushes back the strands of hair that always fell over his forehead. For the first time since he took your sight away, it felt like a punishment.

He finally pushes back, the silky smoothness of his length removing itself from your mouth until a single string of silverly saliva is all that connects you. A laugh emanates from his chest as he takes you in, surely looking like a mess with the sheen of sweat on your skin, the spit on you lips, the track of tears escaping from underneath the makeshift blindfold.

“Y’look so beautiful. Gonna take a picture,” he mutters and you gently nod your head in consent.

You hear the click of a phone camera before Matt’s hands are back on your body, this time lifting you up off the ground before trailing down your arms to unclasp the restraints. He doesn’t remove the material from your eyes, leaving you still blind as he guides you further into the room. You allow him to manipulate your body, letting him push and turn you until he is gently pressing you back against the mattress of the king-sized bed, the sheets gliding against your skin. He guides your arms up over your head and your once again hear the click of the restraints although this time when you tug, the resistance you are met with is not your own wrists but a wooden bedframe.

Another whine escapes from you, the previous act of having him in your mouth only succeeding in making you even more desperate; something that Matt most likely knew, hence why he still prevented you from touching him or even seeing him. You are simply forced to wait in deprived silence, listening intently to every noise that hits your eardrums for indication on what was to come.

You hear the rustle of fabric, the zip of a zipper, and what you think is a small chuckle from Matt before you can feel his weight sink onto the mattress. Your thighs fall open of their own volition but Matt doesn’t tease you about it, instead happy to drink in the sight of your soaked core.

“Oh, that wet already, aren’t you sweetheart?” he asks and judging by the dampness you can feel on your skin, you can only imagine how lewd the display must appear. “Got this desperate from me fucking your face? Such a perfect slut, always ready for me.”

Another whimper falls from your lips, the rolling of your hips acting as both a confirmation that you wanted him and a silent plea for him to give you more than just his words. The sigh that escapes you when you feel him trace down your thigh is blissful, until you realize that it is not Matt’s rough calloused fingers slowly trailing towards your core, but instead a soft silicone.

“No, please,” you whimper out as Matt moves the toy closer to the apex of your thighs, the rounded head coming to glide against your slick folds. “Want you Matt. Want your cock.”

“You already got it tonight,” he whispers, the toy trailing up until the tip of it presses against your clit.

“Want your cock inside me.”

“You want me to fuck your perfect cunt? Want to feel me stretching that tight little pussy open?”

Your only response is a desperate whine as your hips buck, the action forcing the toy to bump against your bundle of nerves, causing your breathing to stutter. Matt holds the wand in place and you can feel him hovering over you, his breath fanning across your cheekbones.

“Then you should’ve been on time,” he whispers, his sentence punctuated by the click of the power button, the sudden vibrations forcing a downright pornographic moan to fall from your lips. He keeps the vibrator pressed firmly against you, the buzz of it filling the room.

Your already desperate state accompanied by the low and steady hum of the vibrator means that your climax hits you faster than expected, the warmth of it washing over your body as you whine and writhe against the sheets. Matt waits until your body is no longer trembling to remove the toy from your core before turning it off, returning the room to its former silence.

That should have been the end of it, the deprivation of touch, of sight, and of him, seeming to you like punishment enough. But when the head of the vibrator is pressed against your sensitive core again, your mind is left reeling.

Your confusion allows Matt to roughly grab your leg, pulling it closer until the firm length of the wand is pressed against the supple flesh of your inner thigh. The sensation is quickly followed by another, the feeling of a different material wrapping around the toy and your leg. It takes a minute to recognize the light scratch of the fabric as the belt that used to be looped around your trench coat.

“Wh- ” you begin to ask, the simple question not even being completed before Matt shushes you, his hands still working to wrap the belt around your skin.

His hand tugs at your other thigh until you can feel them press together, the sensation of your skin fully sticking to each other impeded only by the wand firmly held into place by your limbs. But the intention behind those registered touches doesn’t fully hit you until you feel the cinch of the belt tightening around both of your legs.

“Matt, please, don’t,” you beg, the understanding of what he was about to do hitting you like a freight train. Your wrists tug at your restraints, a mantra repeating in your brain that says he couldn’t possibly be this mean.

“What are you whining about, darling? I’m about to give you more pleasure than you probably deserve.”

You whimper, knowing that he had a point. He could’ve switched the entire script, going with the torture of edging you but never allowing you a release instead of the painful bliss of overstimulation. But you needed him. Not a toy, not an orgasm – him.

“I know you can take it, like the perfect whore you are,” he mutters, his fingers tracing over the ridges of your face, that depredating praise making another zing of desire flow through you, the arousal gushing from your core even more noticeable to you because of the bindings on your legs. “But if you don’t think you can, all you have to do is tell me.”

He is giving you a choice to end it here, to have him untie you and let him take care of you. But as much as you wanted him to coddle you, you wanted to earn it. Matt knew that – you were always looking to prove yourself to anyone – hence his phrasing. Another trick in his arsenal.

So, instead of the safe-word, another plea escapes your lips, your begging consent for him to continue. You can’t see it, but that grin pulls across Matt’s features once again, a smirk of both power and admiration aimed directly at you. His hand falls from your face, trailing a torturous path down your body before dancing across your bound thighs.

The vibrations that hit you are expected and yet somehow manage catch you entirely off-guard, your core still sensitive from your previous orgasm. A high-pitched moan crawls its way up your throat as your muscles clench, your back arching.

“There she is. There’s my good girl,” Matt whispers, his praise the only thing strong enough to cut through the haze that you felt slowly enveloping you. “Feels good, yeah?”

A pathetic whimper is the only response that you can give, the sensations assaulting your body rendering you essentially speechless. Usually, that was sufficient but Matt’s mean streak seems to be never-ending, the click of his tongue sounding throughout the room.

“No, sweetheart, I need your words.”

There is a proper answer – one that you learned quickly after you once said yes and that agreement led to even more discipline. Now, the words were caught in your throat, not because you didn’t know what to say but because it was difficult to even form a string of syllables that was in any way coherent.

“Not as good as you,” you manage to choke out, your sentence rendered choppy by the hiccups of gasps that you couldn’t hold back.

You feel the mattress shift, Matt’s weight disappearing and you have no shame in letting your protest be heard, a pitiful mewl ripping its way out of your throat. You can barely hear Matt’s chuckle before you register the mattress dipping again, this time on either side of your head. It’s the press of Matt’s lips against yours that has your second orgasm crashing over you, unabashed moans falling from your mouth into his, all of which Matt greedily swallows. The orgasm fades only briefly before your body writhes again, the restraints around your wrists and your legs holding you and the vibrator tight.

Matt’s lips disappear from yours, another strangled groan falling from your lips, the sound now only hindered by your dwindling sense of self-control.

“I’m going to take a shower,” you hear Matt explain. His voice is cruelly casual; it was as if he was discussing the weather, as if he wasn’t leaving you bound with the wand still humming between your thighs, abusing your oversensitive core. “I can see you trying to quiet all those pretty little noises you want to make. Let them out, sweetheart. I want to hear you – want all of New York to hear what a good little slut you are.”

You aren’t sure whether it is his encouragement or your own desire that erases any lingering shame you have in your body, your moans now falling freely. The only praise that Matt gives you is a quiet ‘there she is’ before you can sense his presence disappearing from the room, the confirmation coming in the sound of the showerhead turning on.

When your third orgasm thrums through your body, you realize that your current predicament was more of a challenge than anything else. Not just to have Matt hear you over the crash of the water but to even stay coherent enough to do so, a test you were starting to fail as you feel the weight of your sub-space prick at the corner of your eyes. You try to ground yourself by listing every sensation: the way the sheets dampen with sweat underneath you, the way the supple leather digs into your wrists, the cool breeze coming from the window dancing over your skin. But everything is slowly drowned out by the incessant buzz of the vibrator between your legs, still pressed against your clit, that constant stimulation forcing your body to writhe, your thighs to slicken, your chest to heave.

The noises that do manage to fall from you are a jumble compilation of sighs, moans, and curses, each less coherent with every orgasm that passes through you. It is the most delicious torture, the relief of a climax followed swiftly by the borderline pain of the vibrations still going. There is no quantifying anything: how long you’ve been here, how many orgasms had been ripped from your body, how tears you’ve shed from the overstimulation. You’ve lost all sense of anything else but the hum between your legs and the torturous pleasure it brings.

Finally – finally – after yet another orgasm has crashed into you, the vibrations stop and you can’t help the absolute half-sob, half-sigh of relief that huffs from your chest. That sub-space that you had been fighting off, you now give into with a sigh, allowing the haze to sink into your body. It encompasses you, making you feel as if you were floating in the vastness of space, as if you were being smothered in velvet. The only thing that keeps you somewhat tied to earth is Matt’s gentle voice, the quiet praise falling from his lips. It takes Matt lifting you off the mattress and cradling you in his arms for you to fully come back to the present moment. Only then do you realize all the fabric that was previously tied along your body was gone, leaving you naked. You don’t care, choosing instead to nuzzle deeper into Matt’s chest as he whisks you away, your eyelids fluttering open and readjusting to the low candlelight of the bathroom.

Matt gently places you down into the tub already filled with warm water, the temperature feeling heavenly as it penetrates your muscles. A soft kiss on your temple is what Matt leaves you with before he exits the room, closing the door firmly behind him. You swear you hear hushed voices emanating from underneath the door but you are still too dazed to even bother worrying yourself over it. Eventually, Matt returns, this time with a small cart carrying a bottle of champagne and a plate of chocolate covered strawberries.

“Drink this first,” he quietly demands, handing you an ice-cold water bottle. “All of it.”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice, the chilled liquid never feeling more refreshing against your tongue, coating your sore throat. You give the empty bottle back to him, the plastic being replaced by smooth glass as he hands you a champagne flute, before leaning against the side of the tub with his own glass. You take in his appearance, hair still damp from his shower, only a pair of sweatpants on his frame. His own blue eyes appraise you similarly, the quiet concern mixing with a pure devotion in his irises. You finally decide to break the silence, your voice sounding terribly hoarse as you whisper.

“’M hungry.”

Matt just smiles before grabbing the plate of strawberries, setting them down on the small stool next to the bathtub, making it easy for you to reach them. You happily munch on the fruit, feeling a modicum of energy return to you as you lean back and let Matt take care of you. His hands move beneath the water, massaging your tight muscles before grabbing the soft cotton washcloth, dampening the material in order to wipe away the sweat still clinging to your skin. You only protest once with a small hiss when he brushes against your oversensitive core, the sound quieted with a hush. The praise that fell from his mouth might have just been repeated from earlier but this time you could register it and every word made your body warm.

Sounded so pretty for me. I knew you could handle it, my perfect girl. You did so well.

He eventually lets the bath drain, helping you out of the porcelain tub and drying off the water from your body. The plush complimentary robe is thrown over your frame and Matt takes your arm, gently guiding you back to the bedroom. You can’t stop the breathy laugh that falls from your lips when you spy the shopping bags, designer labels on all of them, now piled up by one side of the bed – a bed that had been stripped and remade with fresh sheets.

“For you,” Matt whispers in your ear, pressing a kiss against your temple. You reply by turning your head towards him to press your lips onto his. It is gentler than any other kiss you shared tonight and you melt into his embrace. He helps you slip underneath the sheets, his broad body not far behind as he wraps his arms around you, pulling your back into his chest.

“I could make it so that you would never have to work again,” he whispers to you, reiterating the proposal that he postulated almost every time he saw you. You are about to retort, a sigh of his name falling from your lips before he silences your protest by continuing. “I know, you like to feel independent. And I admire that about you. I just like having you by my side.”

You rotate your body in the bed, turning to face him, the sharp angles of his face highlighted by the lights of the city that never sleeps.

“I like being by your side,” you whisper, your heart soaring at the sight of his smile.

“I don’t want you to give up your life – become some sort of trophy or anything. I respect you too much to ask you to do that. Just… promise me you’ll think about it.”

He doesn’t fully elaborate what it is: whether he meant allowing your dynamic to expand to every aspect of your life so you could do what you wanted without the pressure of making money or whether he meant becoming his completely, without any monetary value placed on the relationship you shared.

But, the silence of the hotel room, you come to realize that there is little difference between those two possibilities.

Matt wouldn’t just stop taking care of you if he wasn’t bound by a contract. He was more than that. What you shared was more than that; more than a number in your bank account, more than the amount of designer product in your closet, more than a simple transaction.

It was something real.

[starsofjewels]

The Yellow Wedding

(Gregor Clegane x Bride! Reader)

Yes, I know, and I pinky promise I'm ashamed that I'm a Greggie C simp. Yes, I know, he's like the only GOT character who is completely morally unforgiveable. Yes, I know, I have a problem, blame it on the lack of stability idfk.

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

A/N: This pookie has been in my drafts since before I made this account, so it's kind of my baby. If you think Gregor Clegane is bad, just wait and see what else I have in store for y'all. Gods bless.

This is the beginning of a series I like to call- Who the f*ck is writing for that character? I did promise questionable- You get questionable.

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

CONTENT: Canon compliant! Arranged/ forced marriage, language, non descriptive! Sex/ nudity, alcohol use/ drunkenness

(Is Greggie C his own content warning? Probably.)

Word count: 3.3k

It is not a match you would ever make for yourself. You would spend no time begging your father for such a marriage or pleading with your mother to make your father consent. No, this was your father’s decision alone. You do not know what Tywin Lannister has promised your father, but you assume something great; more men to fish the rivers or more materials to make the small Riverlands village your father controls less sparse. No matter what it is, he is convinced it is worth the price, and so you will marry Gregor Clegane, the Mountain.

Although you have spent your childhood in the Riverlands, you have heard of the monstrous man. Beastly tall, and stronger than any man alive. Even you, with your quiet, humble education are well-versed in his ferocity, of the sheer terror he inflicts upon even the strongest of men. Although you were no older than three or four at the time of Robert Baratheon’s rebellion, you know full well what the Mountain did to Rhaegar’s bride and their children; and the horses he can behead with a single swing of his great sword. And it makes you sick to believe that you will wed such a monster. 

Crying to your father does nothing, nor does wailing endlessly to your mother, or the septa whose focus is now on your sisters. You are a low noble, your father tells you, it is better than you deserve and more than you will ever get again. Your mother cannot speak to you, she sobs when she tries, and you know there are things not even your mother can tell you.

Your sisters squeal with excitement at the idea of travelling from the Riverlands, and you realise that although you have gone as far as Highgarden, your sisters have barely seen Acorn Hall. You do not ride with them, no, Lord Tywin provides you and your father with a separate carriage, decorated beautifully and accompanied by grey horses. Your father promises he will let you keep one after you are married, and even as a grown maiden, the thought of another horse excites you.

You realise unreasonably quickly that this wedding is a Lannister wedding. Although you are not marrying into the house of lions, the entire event is tainted with their presence. You will be married in Lannisport, in a dress paid for by Tywin Lannister and designed by his tailors. The food and the wine from his contacts, and the guests Lannister supporters. Your father is impressed, he tells you what is gold, and what is silver, and how lucky you are to be such a finely kept bride.

“Lannisport is beautiful this time of year,” Your father takes your hand in his as you begin to ride, as though that helps you, “You will enjoy it, I think- The sea air may calm you…”

You nod, uninterested, as you begin to move further away from your home. He sighs,

“You may not be pleased with this arrangement, Daughter, but Lord Tywin has given you a better wedding than any girl could wish for. The Mountain may not be a kind husband or a good husband, but you will be safe.”

“If he doesn’t eat me first…”

Your father hears you, despite how lowly you mumble. He looks at you, displeased, and says nothing.

The ride to Lannisport takes several days. Each time you stop your sisters marvel over something new, so easily impressed that a fallen tree sparks hours of conversation. They spend all of their time “helping” the stableboys with the horses and chasing after innkeepers’ cats. Part of you wishes you were young enough to join them, to run along with them and hide from the cooks, sneaking sweets from the kitchen.

Instead, you are sat down with your mother and your septa. The latter very gently explains what will happen to you when you are joined with Clegane in the eyes of the Gods when you become man and wife and things are suddenly expected of you; and you realise it is nothing you didn’t already know from listening to your father’s guards, or from far too much time with only yourself for company. It will hurt, she tells you, it always hurts; he will not be gentle, he will not care for you afterwards, and you wonder how a celibate sister would know such things.

The rush of Lannisport is not like anywhere else you have been on your travels; it is busier, much busier. You know from your studies there are hundreds of thousands of inhabitants in this city, and you wonder if all of them have come out to meet with you. They haven’t, of course, aside from a few young children who stare at the gold and silver carriages, and the servants employed to assist your family. Anyone around you is far too busy with their own life to care at all about what you do. 

Your sisters are taken off to see the sights the city beholds, the high walls, the ports, and the beaches, utterly distracted by lights and sand. You, as always, are not as lucky. The septa dresses you in a fine yellow dress, in such a shade you immediately recognise it as Clegane colours. She fixes your hair with thin, silver ribbons which suit your hair nearly perfectly, and leads you along the bright halls of your apartments.

You have no time to awe at the Lannisters’ exuberant wealth - You see the gold-lined portraits your father could never afford, the jewels left in glass bowls with no fear anyone may steal them. No, you are brought swiftly, and with no fuss, across the halls, until you reach what you assume to be a sitting room. She leaves you at the door, slamming it shut before you can register you have been thrown in.

The room is darker, the curtains are pulled, creating a dusky light which draws only unease from you. Wine is laid out for you, and a selection of fruit, and other trinkets you cannot make out in the dim light.

The creature at the other end of the room stirs, and you yelp. You expect it to be Gregor Clegane, and your hands reach for the doorknob, only to find it locked. The man stands, and he is far taller than you could imagine. Taller than any man in the Seven Kingdoms, or anywhere else, you think. He grumbles and moves closer to you with slow, deliberate movements, taunting you.

Once you see the scars poorly hidden by his thick, long hair, however, you realise it is, in fact, not your prospective husband. But his brother; the Hound, Sandor. 

You have heard every rumour about the Hound. Savagery matched only by his brother, a rage fuelled by a young Gregor plunging his brother’s face into a fire, over nothing more than a wooden knight, no matter what their father told those around them. He fears nothing: not Gods, not kings or the lions they surround themselves with. And soon, he will be your brother-by-law

He laughs. Deep, and rumbling, and you know he is laughing at you. The Hound takes a cup of wine for himself, drinking it entirely with one sip. He eyes you up, and down.

“You are… my betrothed’s brother?” 

You try to sound like a proper lady. The Hound laughs in your face.

“Your betrothed?” He mocks, setting the empty cup down and marching towards you. You see the burns on his face - Ugly, pink things, still not healed after endless years and more ointments than you could imagine. “This isn’t a fairytale, little lady. I’d be surprised if you survived the wedding night.”

“I-”

He does not let you speak,

“If his hands don’t kill you, girl, his cock will.”

Your eyes go wide as he utters the word - Something you’ve only heard out of drunken peasants, and not knights. He notices immediately.

“He’ll say far worse than cock, petal. I don’t know why Tywin Lannister is making you marry my brother, but it won’t be pleasant.”

He sighs, sitting himself back down,

“The only reason I’m here is to make sure you make it to the bed- It’d look bad on the family if he killed you before then - As if we could be worse.”

There is nothing you can say to make the situation better or, for that matter, any worse. Sandor looks at you properly, and he realises how young you are.

“How old are you, girl?”

“I’m… nine and ten, Ser.”

He softens, somewhat. His scars seem less frightening when his face is not a scowl.

“Young-” He says, quietly, “young, little thing. By the Gods, his last ones have all been older.” His voice drops, but you hear him. “He might spare you…”

He fills the brief silence that follows.

“You’ve never had a man, have you?”

“No, Ser.”

“Ser. I am no Ser, lamb.”

You stare up at him, almost confused. You were certain he was a knight- Any king would jump at their chance to knight a man like Sandor.

“I refused. Ever since Rhaegar Targaryen knighted your betrothed. If a brute like the Mountain can be made a knight, I refuse.”

“That… I suppose that… makes sense.”

He sighs, reaching out to you and taking your hand, gently.

“If you do what he says, you might be fine. Don’t anger him, petal. Don’t ever anger him. Not even the Gods will save you.”

With that, he leaves you alone in the dim sitting room, until the septa returns and helps you back to your chambers. She asks basic questions, which sound as though she’s written them in advance.

For the next three days, you are primped and prepared like a fine ham, rather than a beautiful bride. Women engulf you nearly every moment of the day, bathing you in hot water filled with roses, scrubbing you raw.

You are taught the wedding procession, how the septon will join you together under the Seven, and what will be expected of you in the early stages of your marriage.

Upon the morning of your wedding, you are awoken to find your wedding dress already waiting for you; white and delicate, an apparent symbolism of your purity. Despite never having bedded a man, you wonder how pure you truly are. Of course, you look like the freshest, whitest snow in comparison to Gregor. 

Once you are dressed, and the ladies have swooned over how beautiful you look, you sit with the septa, awaiting the Mountain’s guests to complete their prayers, so you may be brought in.

There are private prayers for you, the septa blesses you and prays for a hopeful marriage. She sits with you and offers you wine. 

“Do you truly think this marriage is a good match?”

She sighs, taking a place beside you.

“Gregor Clegane is indeed a dangerous man, but all men can be tempted by the kisses of their lover, and enough delicate touches.”

Your eyes widen and you look at her, shocked. She smiles at you.

“Do you really think I wouldn't know of the ways of men, sweet girl? They are all the same, these brutish, knight types.”

For a moment, the septa becomes almost like a best friend, she laughs with you in a way you have never seen before.

“If I am still alive when you have daughters,” she says, “I shall serve them. And I shall pray every night they are as wonderful as you, sweet one.” She looks at you, “write me. Tell me you are safe, yes?”

“Yes. I promise you.”

Your father calls for you shortly after, you see his eyes widen as you emerge from your bedroom in that fine, white dress. You are walked rather unceremoniously to the castle’s great hall. There are decorations everywhere, flowers of white and yellow, blue and red. A true, rather fantastical, combination of your house being joined with the Cleganes and the Lannisters overseeing your union. 

Your septa waits for you by the doors and sets a crown of flowers upon your head; a bronze headdress, with flowers twisted into the metal. A small, inconsequential tradition of your house. An attempt to make you feel as though you haven't been entirely abandoned by them.

As you walk to the aisle, you recognise almost none of the guests. You see Sandor first, sitting right at the back of the hall. You can tell he is already drunk, and he refuses to look at you.   

Although you are not married in a sept, you are still joined by a holy man- You assume the septon is someone of reasonable importance within Lannisport, whose loyalty to the house of lions overpowers his devotion to the faith. Or, perhaps more likely, this septon has refused to marry a monster such as your groom in a place of worship.

You see the Mountain from a distance and, somehow, this man is far, far taller than his brother. You would expect such a man to be wed in his chain mail, or the heavy black armour you have heard so much about. Instead, he wears a tunic in such a yellow you immediately recognise it as Clegane colours, even from a distance. Although this is your first meeting, you notice how out of place he looks without his armour. 

The wedding procession is long and quite boring, and you understand why your sisters have each been given a new doll to entertain themselves with. They smile and wave and giggle as you eventually pass them, delighted to see you dress so wonderfully. Your mother shushes them, her eyes so red you can tell she has spent hours sobbing over this marriage.

The Mountain reaches out for you, and your hands grasp his own large paws, enclosed in black leather gloves. He makes no effort to speak to you, or smile at you, or do anything to comfort your terrified self, but you see him look you up and down and smile with desire. At least he is pleased with you.

His cloak is far heavier than you would expect it to be. Thick, black fur, which weighs you down to the point you are unsure how you can stand properly. It must be bear, you think, or something equally ferocious. He lets you take his arm to support yourself, as he pledges to protect you; and you wonder how long said protection will last.

One of those large, gloved hands takes your chin, lifting your face up to look at him. His hand is the size of your head, perhaps bigger. The Mountain is so large, he grasps you by the waist and pulls you up to reach his head. He carries you like you are nothing, cradling you with the same ease one would a cushion. 

You are announced as man, and as wife, and he kisses you with the ferocity expected of such a man. It is not loving nor fond, but it is certainly passionate. He refuses to let you go, holding you tightly and walking with you, like a child.

The celebration is far greater than anything you could imagine. The Lannister dignity and refinement thrown violently aside for drink and dance. You are placed at the head of the feast table, beside your monstrous husband. You watch him eat, and drink enough to kill any lesser man. You cannot eat, despite the cakes and pastries, and all of the things you would gladly finish off on any other occasion. 

You look at Gregor, and you sip your wine graciously, fearful of spilling something down yourself.

He catches your glance, and looks down at your barely touched plate. You anticipate anything but your husband lifting your spoon, and putting it to your mouth like a baby. Half out of fear, and half out of curiosity, you accept the spoonful of broth. It is too hot and not particularly flavoursome, not that you complain. Gregor smiles, looking you up and down once again, and he speaks. For the first time.

“You’re pretty.”

“Is that… good?”

He thinks for a moment,

“Aye, it’s good. You’ll make me good sons with those hips.”

You grow hot with embarrassment, unable to do anything but giggle slightly. He leans into you, out of your father’s earshot.

“Are you as delicious as you look, little thing?”

“I- Don’t know, my lord.”

He moves your hair to kiss the side of your neck. You can see this action garnering the attention of those around you,

“Mh, well- Just you wait, then, and we shall see.”

The rest of the evening is almost a blur, as you take more and more wine and honey mead. By nightfall you are flush with borderline drunkenness, and your equally-drunk husband could be a prince charming, for all you care.

He lifts you up to dance with you, too large for any form of regular dance. Your first dance as a couple is a spectacle to behold; and you cannot stop laughing the entire time. You cup his face in your hands, and you kiss him as though you do, truly love him, but you assume it is merely the alcohol in your system.

You mean to thank Lord Tywin, or whomever he has sent to oversee the wedding, or to visit your young sisters, brought out of the way of the wedding feast. There is not enough time, or sobriety, for you to do either. You are instead lifted from your chair and hauled off to Gregor’s chambers, for your new duties as his wife.

By the time he is finished with you, you can barely remember your own name. You do recall your septa’s warning of a man’s cruelty once his desires are fulfilled, and expect the worst.

Your husband rises from you, almost completely naked, and for a moment you think he will return to the festivities without his tunic. Gregor, however, returns to you with a cup of wine. You can barely drink it, giggling drunkenly as near half the wine dribbles down your bare chest.

Although you clean yourself, he holds you steady.

You spend the rest of the night in his bed, listening to the celebrations below eventually die down, as more guests retire. You sit up in thought, and he looks at you.

“No bedding ceremony?”

He snorts, pulling you closer.

“No. No other man gets to see-” His hands travel down your body, resting on your hips, “this.”

You groan, shivering despite the fire.

“Are you pleased, then?”

“Aye, aye. Pleased. I’ll be more pleased once you give me my sons.”

You whack his shoulder lightly. He does not even feel it, of course.

“Can we not enjoy our wedding night first?”

“Gods, you talk like a rich little cunt, woman.”

You splutter with laughter and he kisses your neck again, biting down on your shoulder just gently enough that it does not hurt.

“We can enjoy ourselves whilst you give me a son, love. That’s the fun of it.”

You sigh, resting a head on his bare shoulder.

“That was… quite fun…”

“Aye, it was.”

Eventually you shuffle down the bed, realising just how large it really was, to facilitate your husband’s massive form. It is warm, even if the sheets stick to your skin.

His arms wrap around you, and before you know it he is asleep, tucked into your shoulder. Gregor’s peacefulness seems odd, compared to the beastly Mountain you have heard stories of, and you wonder if he will, truly, treat you well.

You watch the fire for some time, until you too fall asleep. 

The festivities continue for a day and one more night, until the feast is truly over and you set off for your husband’s keep. 

You give the older of your sisters your crown of flowers and wave with the same enthusiasm they did on your wedding day as Gregor hands you his stallion’s bridle and wraps his arms around your hips. You leave Lannisport as the lady of the Mountain, and you wonder how he can be so pleasant to you, but so fearful on the battlefield. 

Not that you particularly care, not when you seem to have tamed the Mountain who Rides.

[asvterias]

𝖬𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗒 𝖳𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖦𝗂𝗋𝗅 ~ 𝖲𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖾𝗋 𝖣𝖺𝖼𝗈𝗌𝗍𝖺

summer masterlist || clarisse’s version || robyn’s version

warnings: just minor cursing!!

pairings: summer dacosta ✘ black!fem!reader

genres: very clingy!summer x very!clingy!reader, kinda naive!reader, smitten!summer, wholesome fluff between summer’s family & reader, chaotic family goals, summer’s sister is named after months (idek 🤷🏾‍♀️), reader is considered a sister/daughter-in-law by summer’s close family, reader is indecisive (LIKE ME Y’ALL 🤞🏾😘), mentions of marrying, summer is VERY DOWN for reader

summary: in which, spending the christmas holiday with your girlfriend’s family takes a surprising outcome.

word count: 2.7k+

tag list: @xanasaurusrex @star-girl69 @nvirskies @thegiganticgirlkisser @novastarrs @karslyn @yourmom-25s-blog @matchmalonee @missingaevelynhugo @symp4nat @marvel8169 @lyzsaphrodite @babyzzlove @shark1008 @rztaros@ocaeies @oceean @onxlyficcharacter @glwmcres

author’s note: i didn’t know which character to write it for so decided to do both alternate versions.

Song Playing — Margaret by Lana Del Rey (just the main chorus is used)

‘Cause, baby, if your love is in trouble

Baby, if your love is in trouble

Baby, if your love is in trouble

Visiting your girlfriend’s family for Christmas was an occasion you dearly anticipated. It was great reuniting with her family for the holidays and relaxing from the stress of school.

Summer’s parents were Charlotte and Jamal Dacosta, who were married for 30 years and wonderfully nurtured an all-girls family. Her parents had three younger daughters, assuming they were triplets, named April, May, and June, now 13 years old.

Right now, they had just gone errand shopping, leaving you and Summer alone in the house, and wouldn’t be back until a few hours later. Deciding to take advantage of your alone time, you two made it quite worthwhile, firstly unpacking your suitcases. Every moment spent together was precious and memorable so you made every time unforgettable.

When you know, you know

When you know, you know

Soon after, you two did each other’s hair, wore matching clothes, horribly danced and sang, watched your favorite movies, cooked lunch together, and made out all in the span of five hours.

By evening, her family reached home, hands filled with Christmas-related supplies, some being groceries. Guess they also did some last-minute grocery shopping as well. While everyone was decorating the Christmas tree, all humming along to Christmas songs and dressed in matching Christmas pajamas, including you. Summer’s parents never singled you out, you were their eldest daughter’s girlfriend, a huge reason why Summer’s smile brightened immensely for the past 2 years. You felt grateful to be a part of such a loving family, and they never let you forget it. Her siblings admired you, especially June, the youngest one, she was very shy, unlike her older siblings who were all brazen and outgoing. June loved the attention you gave her, aware she was your favorite sister.

Later that same day, the Dacosta family was arguing over which Christmas movie to watch, many voices overlapping with different opinions in mind.

“Y/N should choose, she’s our guest.” Jamal bargained with his daughters.

“Yeah, Dad, because all of our guests basically live here and are dating Summer.” April sarcastically replies.

“Young lady, you better watch that tone!” Her dad, Jamal warns.

“Hey, don’t be an asshole,” June shouts at April.

“Language, June!” Charlotte chastises her youngest daughter with a firm look.

“Did I lie?! Exactly, I never lie.” April taunts.

It kinda makes me laugh, runnin’ down that path

When you’re good as gold

“Y/N’s basically our sister-in-law at this point, we don’t have to sugarcoat it anymore.” May points out. “Or did I only see Summer’s pinboard with all things wedding-related, alongside a picture of her and Y/N?”

“Shut up, you little snitch,” Summer flings the mixing spoon in May’s direction, “What the hell were you even doing in my room?”

“Ummm we’re siblings, I needed some jewelry and I politely took some without your knowledge, it’s not a crime...”

“Yeah, it is a crime,” April chimes in, crossing her arms, “It’s called stealing,”

“And you’re suddenly lacking jewelry?!”

“Ehh not really,” May shrugged nonchalantly, “You weren’t home so the opportunity kinda raised itself.”

“But I locked the door!”

“And I opened the door with a bobby pin, it’s not rocket science!”

“Mom!” Summer yelled, resorting immediately to discipline, “Aren’t you gonna say something to them? This is a complete invasion of my privacy!”

Charlotte looks at the triplets, “Girls, it was very wrong to sneak and snoop through your sister’s room.”

“Me! I never participated in such activities,” April defends herself, “That was all May and June.”

“June, you were in on too?”

“Like I said I got bored and called June,” May grinned.

“June!” Summer shouts betrayed at her youngest sister.

“Sorry, May was very convincing.” June murmurs, too ashamed, avoiding making eye contact with her eldest sister, “Besides, I think the pinboard was very lovely. Are you guys really getting married to each other or is Summer just manifesting?”

“The truth comes out once and for all,” April laughs, eating the spare marshmallows.

‘Cause when you know, you know

When you’re old, you’re old

“Shut up April!” Your girlfriend yells at her sister.

“Don’t tell April to shut up!” May exclaims.

“You can’t tell me what to do!”

“But Y/N can!” May concluded and turned to you, “Y/N shut Summer up! She’s puppy-dog whipped for you, we all know it!”

“See the kind of family you’re marrying into, Y/N, enjoy it while it lasts.” April teases you, nudging your side slightly.

You paid no attention to April’s comment, eyes glued on Summer as she consistently argued with her sisters. Everything was hectic right now, and your reaction towards it certainly wasn’t helping anyone, especially your girlfriend.

“What is she talking about?” You turned to your girlfriend, watching her shoulders tense up as she awkwardly shuffled on her feet.

“Nothing important,” Summer dismissed with a wave of her hand.

“Nothing important,” May mocks her eldest sister, “You basically planned the rest of your lives together, I wouldn’t classify that as nothing.”

“I’m gonna literally kill you,” Summer fiercely glares at May, “Mark my words!”

“Wow, I’m so scared,” May rolls her eyes.

“Imma show you scared, alright,” Summer began to venture towards May but her father’s reflexes were quicker, and grabbed his daughter. Jamal keeps his grip strong, stopping Summer’s actions of attacking her younger sister.

“How about we all go bake some cookies to settle down?” Jamal suggested, still holding his eldest daughter, waiting for her to calm down. May stuck her tongue out, spurring Summer’s annoyance, who struggled to escape her father’s strong grip.

“That’s a good idea!” Charlotte agrees, clapping her hands.

Summer’s parents made all of you settle into the kitchen, tasking each sibling with various tasks of baking gingerbread cookies. Luckily, you were given the easiest job, icing them after they cooled down whilst Summer made the hot cocoa. For the rest of the night, Summer and May were distanced furthest away from each other, hesitant if another sibling fight was to break out.

Your girlfriend’s irritation at her sister simmered down at the sight of you. Keeping her close to you made her mind hazy, forgetting all about the earlier argument and focusing all her affection on you. Being clingy with each other, Summer hugged you from behind, kissing your neck as you giggled at her actions, miserably failing to put the icing on the gingerbread cookies.

Like Hollywood and me, the diamond on your ring

The soul that you bring to the table

“Stop doing that, babe.” You squirm from her kisses, an easygoing smile evident on your lips. “I don’t wanna mess up the gingerbread cookies,”

“Why should I? You clearly love it.”

Her hands wander onto the inside of your pajama shirt, lingering her soft touch across your stomach, kneading at the flesh. Your girlfriend stares at you, viewing your side profile, observing your cute mimics, and admiring your beautiful melanin skin.

“I do, but the gingerbread cookies—“

“Will be fine besides everything you do is perfect,”

“So will you let me focus?!”

You thought so; it was worth a try.

“Nope.” she squeezed your waist tighter, resting her head against the back of your shirt, “Just pretend that I’m not here.”

“That’s quite impossible, I could never fathom you not being here.” She presses light kisses on your shoulders as her curly hair tickles your neck, giving you tiny goosebumps.

“Stop being sappy, that’s my job!”

“Never!”

One that makes me sing

In a minor key

She gently pecks your lips, and feeds you a marshmallow, both smiling in contentment at each other’s presence.

To end the night off, her parents stuck to their created tradition. It was a tradition in the Dacosta household to watch Christmas movies every night in December, to keep the winter season alive. You thought it was cute, and instantly adored the little family tactic. Summer didn’t mind her family’s tradition, quite accustomed to it from a toddler, and now since you were dating, no complaints left her mouth. As long as you were beside her, or holding her, she slept like a baby, comforted in your arms.

Eventually, on Christmas Day, extended family is invited over and that hassle is settled down again with the same method.

After hours of incoherent curses and overlapping yelling, the classical ‘Home Alone’ movie was finalized and everyone was huddled up on couches in the living room. Her siblings took the bigger couch, sitting directly in front of the television whilst you and Summer sat on the right couch, partially facing the television and her parents sat opposite.

The lights were dim, giving the room a much cooler vibe to drift asleep in. Munching down on cookies and drinking hot chocolate as you snuggled up with Summer with a fuzzy blanket wrapped around you two.

“I wish we could be like this forever,” she whispers in your ear.

“Me too.”

There were some beats of silence, canceling out the movie sound effects as you remembered the huge sibling dispute, regarding the topic of marriage, and Summer wanting to be your future wife.

That innuendo May had teased you about clawed at your mind and made you anything but curious. Since it stemmed from a whole argument from Summer, this discussion wasn’t a light topic to handle, but you wanted answers! You wanted answers and you wanted them now. Hopefully, there aren’t limited answers to the questions you desire to ask, which will leave you irritated. You want the whole truth, not the half or a quarter, you just want the full truth and if your girlfriend knows what’s best for her, she’ll be completely honest with you.

‘Cause when you know, you know

When you know, you know

Certainly, you misheard what your girlfriend’s sister had so brazenly said to you. Summer wanted to marry you, sure it was a little stretch, you’ve been dating for 2 years now, so you didn’t think that thought would cross her mind. It didn’t even cross your mind. Never mind, that was a fucking lie, seeing as your Pinterest board is mostly dedicated to wedding-related content but you kept that private. Well, you couldn’t have been more wrong, apparently, that thought had crossed her mind, and it remained there.

So asking the question couldn’t hurt, right? Not that it was a complicated question which depends on your girlfriend’s response. Or maybe confirming your assumptions would end your overthinking once and for all.

“Hey, babe.” you look up at her.

And when you’re old, you’re old

Like Hollywood and me, that diamond on your ring

“Mhmmm…” her attention no longer directed on the movie, peers down at you.

“About May’s earlier statement, is that true?”

At first, she stayed silent, contemplating her upcoming words. She exhaled slowly, nodding gently, and whispered back, “Yeah, it’s true.”

Your eyes sparkle in astonishment, “Really? You want to marry me?”

“I’d be crazy not to…and I know that might be moving too fast but I’ve never been so certain about anything else in my life..well besides dating you. You’re my absolute dream girl and someday I wanna make you my wife.”

You giggle, hiding away your flustered face, “But I don’t understand, why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I was kinda embarrassed,” she sheepishly admits, “Scared kinda.”

“Scared?!” You shake your head. “You?! The most confident girl I know was too scared to tell me this?!”

That soul that you bring to the table

One that makes me sing

“I was scared of your reaction; that you’d possibly freak out thinking I’m moving too fast in this relationship and end it all.”

“You’d really think I would break up with you over a future reference?” You inquired, raising an eyebrow, “It’s not a crime to think about those things, even I thought about our marriage from time to time.”

Summer stared at you, shell-shocked as she stammered on her words, “You thought about it too?” Like she couldn’t believe the words coming out of your mouth.

“Of course, I did.” You reassured her, bringing your interlocked hands to your chest, and squeezing her hands tightly.

“No bullshitting, right?”

“No bullshitting whatsoever.”

All Summer did was flash you a toothy grin and briefly peck your lips.

“Guess what, then?”

“What?” She bites her lower lip, brown eyes glowering at you.

“I wanna marry you too.” You stated.

“Why not we get—“

“Ehh Hey!! Lovebirds!” May whisper-shouts interrupt your lovey-dovey bubble.

“What?” Summer grew agitated by her sister’s interruption.

“Keep it down! Some of us are trying to watch the movie.”

“Mind your own business then!” she rolls her eyes at her sister, throwing a pillow towards May.

“You’re really a fool in love,” You chuckle.

“Only a fool for you, I promise you that.”

“You’re a lovesick fool regardless.”

In a minor key

Diamond on your ring

This time she shifts her full attention onto you, eyes sparkling in admiration as a warm smile appears on her face, “Now, my darling wife, where were we?”

“Oh, so we’re starting the names early then?”

“Well, I definitely intend to make you my future wife, why not get a headstart?” She winks, gazing at her beloved girlfriend.

You pressed her lips against yours softly, seemingly making the kiss sweet and innocent. Tugging one of Summer’s loose curls that dangled in her face, you pulled it behind her ear as your lips moved as one. You adored Summer’s hair, thick voluminous curls flowing down to her neck and you couldn’t resist playing it in when she was close.

“I think that’s a great idea, my love.” You sigh, finally pulling away from the kiss, your thumb gliding across her soft cheeks as she smiles lovingly at you. Every day you wake up, guessing how truly lucky you are to be dating her, to be her forever girl, to be her future wife. Instead, she always reassures you that she’s the only lucky one to be dating such a unique woman as yourself. You two made each other complete, like pieces of a puzzle, longing to be together, destined to stay together forever, to overcome any obstacle thrown your way made to test your love. Summer didn’t know what it was like to be truly in love and to experience severe heartbreak whenever you’re not around, and now she understands why couples are so clingy with each other. Now she fully comprehends why love languages are important to express, if not some, maybe all of them. Love is deemed too powerful, and the stability depends on both partners’ perseverance to keep their relationship thriving for the better. Summer knew love changes a person, whether it is for better or for worse, weighing on the aspects of a healthy or unhealthy relationship. Without a doubt, Summer knew you were her soulmate, from the moment everything connected with you two, and how perfect your kisses were, she couldn’t find a more perfect girl anywhere. You were her girl, her only girl, her perfect girl, and hopefully her forever girl.

Either way, you two were utterly obsessed with each other, and nothing or nobody could ruin it, not if both of you had anything to say.

‘Cause when you know, you know

When you know, you know

likes, comments, and reblogs are highly appreciated!

© asvterias, 2024. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my works onto any other platforms without my permission.

[wake-me-up-inside-imagines]

Do you have any jealousy hc for Charlie the mafia man? Like maybe he finally takes his darling out to a gala or something and they are dressed to the nines. Obviously this gets some attention and maybe someone hits in reader? Or someone hits on him and reader gets defensive over him and their relationship?

Ooooh this'll be a fun one, jealous Charlie is certainly a character. I hope you enjoy! I didn't do reader getting jealous because Charlie would shut that shit down before reader could have a chance to do anything, but if you would like me to make that jut let me know!

Charlie Craven Jealousy headcannons

Warnings: mentions of violence, Mafia stuff, random creep, and slight sexual implications (second to last last paragraph)

Gn! Reader

Banner/divider credit goes to @cafekitsune

Yandere! Charlie who (reluctantly) prepares to take you to a gala, hosted by a different crime syndicate he hopes to be allied with by the end of the night if things go well. Of course, he loves showing his darling off, and thinks they’re the most beautiful being in the world, but this… this is an environment he’d rather leave his darling out of. It may be a gala, but the attendees are very dangerous individuals that he’d rather keep his darling far away from, especially if something were to go wrong during the night.

Mafia boss! Charlie who knows that if he doesn’t show up with you, it’ll be perceived as a show of weakness, whether it be a weak relationship with you, or weak confidence in his ability to protect you. He can’t afford that, so he decides to take you, although he’ll grumble about it when no one’s listening. He has no doubt in his ability to keep you safe, he just wants you far, far away from his job. He doesn’t want to taint your innocent little mind with ideas of violence and crime.

Mafia boss! Charlie who makes sure to have a multitude of security guards with him and his darling at all times. This isn’t unusual, in fact the other syndicates leader will most likely have his own guards around him, just for safe keeping. Still, Charlie only allows his strongest and most trusted guards around you, placing more emphasis on your safety than his own.

Mafia boss! Charlie who buys you the most extravagant, jaw-dropping outfit he possibly can, taking account for what you like and dislike in such outfits before buying it. As reluctant as he is to have you there, he wants everyone to know how amazing and ethereal you are in comparison to them and their lowly colleagues. Besides, no one, not even a potential rival in crime would ever even dream about trying to take you away from him right? They know who they’re messing with… right?

Wrong.

Mafia boss! Charlie who can’t help but soften his expression anytime he looks at you, despite how risky any show of emotion is in front of this unfamiliar organization. He trails alongside you as you ooh and ahh at the fancy decorations and outfits, a small smile gracing his features as he observes how happy you are to simply walk around and look at everything. He’s used to extravagant shows of wealth, it’s almost synonymous with his job, but besides his massive house, you’re not used to such environments, so it’s cute to see you experience a luxury gathering for the first time. Charlie knows it might make those unfamiliar with him believe he’s weak, but he’s content in knowing that that assumption would be their downfall if they were to attempt to use his “weakness” to their advantage.

Mafia boss! Charlie who doesn’t leave your side from the second you enter the gala. He doesn’t trust a single soul around you, except for himself and the guards he brought along with him. If anybody needs to speak to him, they’ll do it with you present, wether it be the lowliest and least valued members of the syndicate, or high ranking leaders who are tasked with representing the higher powers amongst their organization. The only person who would be allowed to speak to him without you present is the boss of the organization itself, and Charlie gave strict instructions to the guards with you on how to behave if that event should occur, as well as from threats of what should occur if they were to fail at their job.

Mafia boss! Charlie who couldn’t have known that it would be during such an occasion that you would be approached by a member of this organization who had had his eyes firmly planted on you ever since you entered the room, but stayed a safe distance away in fear of incurring Charlie’s wrath. Charlie finds himself invited to a private meeting, just for him and the infamous crime boss he’s here for, and reluctantly leaves your side, promising to be back as soon as the negotiations are completed. The guards swarm you, keeping you in caged in a crude circle made up of their bodies, but that wouldn’t stop the unknown man from approaching you. Now that the big, bad danger was out of the equation, he had nothing to fear, not even the numerous guards surrounding you.

Mafia boss! Charlie who returns from his meeting to see some low life with a pretty swollen looking eye getting carried away from you by one of the guards while the rest of them crowd even tighter around you. He was only gone for 30 minutes, what could have possibly happened in that time? Keeping his composure, Charlie swiftly rejoins you, his concern only growing when he sees the bewildered yet amused look plastered across your face.

Mafia boss! Charlie who urgently asks you what happened, taking your arm in his and pressing you to his side protectively. He’s relieved to see that you aren’t hurt, but something must have happened for his guards to get violent in such a formal setting. They may be in the crime business, but even they know to behave themselves in such a setting unless absolutely necessary. You smile in amusement as you explain to him that the man with the black eye had attempted to approach you, asking you to dance with him and to accompany him until Charlie returned. The guards wouldn’t let him get anywhere near you, keeping you blocked behind their bodies, but the man persisted, constantly complementing you and following you around as the guards attempted to shuffle you away. His attempts grew more desperate as time passed, even becoming so brave as to insult Charlie to your face in an effort to bolster himself up, a gesture you certainly didn’t appreciate. You had told him to fuck off and bother someone else, and that’s when the man had gotten brave enough to attempt to grab you from between the guards bodies, an action that resulted in a swift and efficient punch to the eye, courtesy of the nearest guard. Charlie had shown up right after that, when the guard who had nearly knocked the man out grabbed him and dragged him off somewhere where he couldn’t bother you anymore, not that he would want to, of course.

Mafia boss Charlie who does not find the situation nearly as amusing as you do. He’s grateful that you’re safe, unharmed, and pretty happy all things considered, but the fact that anyone had attempted to get near you at all, successfully or unsuccessfully, had his blood boiling. He does his best to keep his composure, both for your sake and to keep up appearances towards everyone else, but it’s abundantly clear that his mood has worsened significantly. That fact is only made more apparent when you hesitantly admit that it had scared you a little when he tried to grab you, but that you were fine now, thanks to the guards he’d left with you. The guard who punched the man approaches Charlie and lowers her head, apologizing sincerely for causing a scene, promising him that they had done what they could to keep the man away from you without using violence, and only resorted to such methods as a last resort. She then turns to you and apologizes for allowing you to see such violence, but you quickly reassure her that you didn’t mind, and appreciated what she and the others had to keep you safe.

Mafia boss! Charlie who, for one of the first times in his life, thanks his employees. It’s curt, and in no way as friendly as most thank you’s are, but the words were still said, stunning all the guards, especially the one who had apologized. She blinks in shock before composing herself, spitting out a quick “it’s no problem at all, sir.” before taking up her post once again. He supposes your kind nature is rubbing off on him, an idea that both scares and thrills him.

Mafia boss! Charlie who doesn't let you stay much longer after that, too on edge after what he saw to relax again. He knows you're safe and sound with him around, but he doesn't want to risk anyone else getting any ideas. Besides, he's already gotten what he came for, there's really no reason to stay any longer. You agree to leave without any arguments, you've had your fun, and you can tell just how bothered Charlie has become from the incident. He takes his leave, you right beside him, giving short, polite goodbyes to those high enough in rank to matter, before ushering you into his limo and ordering the driver to take the two of you home.

Mafia boss! Charlie who gets so clingy once the car starts driving. He won't admit to his jealousy, in fact he adamantly denies experiencing such petty feelings if you ask him about it, but it's obvious the whole ordeal has restarted his supposedly buried fear of you trying to leave him, or worse, getting taken away by someone else. He pushes you into his chest, holding you tightly while capturing your lips in a heated kiss. He won't break apart from you until one of you needs to come up for air, but he soon reattaches his mouth onto yours, repeating the cycle until either you've had enough, or until you arrive back home.

Mafia boss! Charlie who reminds you how beautiful you are, and how happy he is to have you by his side. His voice is soft and sensual, his hands beginning to wander as you cuddle up on the couch. He wants nothing more than to feel you in this moment, to remind himself that you belong to him in mind, body, and soul, and no one, especially not some random low life, could ever take you away from him. He takes his time warming you up before moving the two of you to your shared bedroom, determined to end the night by showing you just one of the many, many reasons he's the best partner you could ever hope for. You're more than happy to receive his affections, and by the time you two are actually ready to go to bed, you're both comfortable and satisfied, content to bask in each others presence as you nod of, Charlie holding you to his bare chest as he whispers sweet nothings into your ear. You fall asleep like that, safe and sound in the arms of the one you love most.

Oh, and don't think that Charlie forgot about that guy from earlier. Come morning, he'll know everything he needs to about that individual, and he'll set out to make sure that said individual never, ever underestimates how dangerous and protective Charlie is ever again. That is, if he's fortunate enough to still be alive to think by the end of it. You'll never know man's fate though, Charlie will make sure of that. He doesn't want you to see the violence he's capable of. He'd rather keep you safely away from his job, where nothing can hurt you, physically or mentally. He'll come back home in a more cheerful mood than normal, a welcome sight after the fiasco from the night before. He won't tell you what he's been up to, and you won't ask, content to bask in his presence. You'll stay like that for what seems like forever, just holding each other, and soaking up the warmth the other radiates.

Charlie will make sure nothing like this ever happens again. He swears it.

I hope you enjoyed!

[misc-obeyme]

Here is part two with the rest of the characters!

I actually included the three undateables - Mephisto, Raphael, and Thirteen. I'm getting tired of waiting for them to become dateable, so I decided to go ahead and write some for them, too. I don't know how good they are, I feel like I have no clue what I'm doing when it comes to them lol.

I may have also included my OC Arsenios as a bonus... just 'cause I really wanted to write one for him. It's exactly the kind of scenario he would be there for so it just fit so well. Anyway, you can read more about him here if you're curious. He's also the last one, so you can just skip it altogether if you like lol!

FLUFFTOBER 2023

GN!MC x the dateables, the undateables, and one OC lol

Warnings: none that I can think of??

It was an October night in the Devildom and the House of Lamentation was hosting a Halloween masquerade ball. The main hall had been decorated splendidly in oranges, purples, and blacks. An entire feast was laid out, the table full of dishes contributed to the party by Barbatos and Simeon. The room was dark, lit mostly by orbs of orange light, enchanted to float through the air by Solomon. On a small stage there was a live band playing a mix of lively and slow creepy music. The dance floor was filled with demons, all of whom were unrecognizable…

Due to the masquerade theme, special masks had been made for each attendee. They were made by Satan and Asmodeus, working together to create magical masks that would completely obscure each party goer's appearance. Once they put on the mask, a glamor fell over them that transformed them and made them unrecognizable. Every glamor costume was black and incorporated a look involving fancy suits, flowing dresses, and probably too many sequins.

The party organizers all knew what each other's mask-generated costumes looked like. Everyone had been present when Asmo revealed his designs. Everyone… except you. You had insisted on creating your own glamor and thus hadn't been present to see everyone else's.

Now you stood in the middle of this masquerade party, unable to recognize a single person.

And yet you knew that the person you wanted to see most was in the room somewhere. And after a small amount of time, you were certain you had figured out who it was. You made a bold move and asked them to dance. While you were in their arms, they told you to meet them somewhere specific later, when the party was winding down. You agreed and spent the rest of the night exchanging looks with them, anticipating the moment when you would be alone with them.

Had you chosen the correct person? Did you know them well enough that you could determine their identity when their appearance was so altered? And more importantly… did they know who you were?

Diavolo

You actually had to pretend that you didn't know who he was. The reality was that there was no mistaking Diavolo. He walked like a king, moving about the room and talking happily with every demon he came across. He had a presence unlike any other, even rivaling Lucifer in the way he commanded the space and everybody's attention.

You had to intercept him and ask him to dance. He accepted your invitation readily enough, but you weren't sure if it was out of politeness or if it was because he actually knew who you were. He spoke with you easily while you danced and even when he asked you to meet him in the foyer, you weren't sure if he knew you.

You managed to break away later, when things were winding down. You had seen Diavolo going into the foyer and followed him after only a few moments.

His mask was already gone and you found him in full demon form. Diavolo looked absolutely regal standing there, waiting for you. You went up to him, almost intimidated. You still weren't sure if he knew you.

"You wanted to see me, Lord Diavolo?" you asked carefully.

Diavolo chuckled. He reached out to take off your mask. "Were you truly afraid I didn't know you, MC?"

You blushed and looked away.

Diavolo laughed and took your hands, pulling you outside into the Devildom night. Before you knew what was happening, you were in his arms and with a heavy beat of his enormous wings, the two of you were flying. The wind rushed through your hair as you wrapped your arms around him, pressing yourself close.

Diavolo hovered for a moment. "Don't be afraid. I have you. I only wanted to be alone with you for a moment. Up here, no one will see us."

You flushed, amazed at the sight of him, his strong arms keeping you up, the yellow light of the moon splashing across his skin. Everything became heated as he kissed you, the neediness of his lips indicating just how much he had been waiting for this moment.

Barbatos

If you hadn't been deliberately looking for him, you likely wouldn't have noticed Barbatos at all. He stayed out of the way, on the edges of the party, sometimes fully in the shadows. But even in his glamor, he maintained his usual butler pose and his stance was what gave him away.

You weren't sure if he would accept when you asked him to dance. You knew he was a guest at this party, but he had a tendency to go into butler mode even as an attendee. To your delight, he bowed to you and took your hand. You hadn't been sure if he knew who you were, but the way he danced so close to you indicated that he did. Likely, he had known all along. Your suspicions seemed confirmed when he invited you to the kitchen.

You slipped into the kitchen as the party quieted, finding Barbatos making tea. You weren't in doubt of his identity, but the sight was so familiar, any questions were immediately put to rest.

"Come, MC," Barbatos said. "I've brewed your favorite."

You took off your mask. "You always knew it was me, didn't you?"

Barbatos poured you a cup of tea and handed it to you. He met your eyes and took off his own mask. "Just as you always knew it was me."

You put the teacup down on the counter next to your mask. You took Barbatos's face in your hands and kissed him.

Barbatos responded by wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing you back.

After a moment, he pulled away and smiled at you. "Your tea will get cold, MC."

"Let it," you said, kissing him again.

Simeon

You really thought it would be easy to find an angel in a room full of demons, even if they were all unrecognizable. You moved from group to group, trying to figure out if you could find Simeon by his words. Perhaps he would say something that would tip you off.

You were unsuccessful still by the time someone asked you to dance. You almost said no, but something stopped you. You cocked your head and considered him. He was graceful, his hand extended, ready to take yours. You couldn't quite place it, but there was something about him that made you think… could it be…? When he asked you to meet him in the guest room later - your room - you were even less sure than before.

When you entered your own room to find him waiting for you, you hesitated.

But then Simeon laughed and no glamor could hide the musical sound of it.

"I'm sorry, MC," he said. "Did I confuse you by asking you to meet me in your room?"

You sighed, coming fully into the room now and taking off your own mask. "It was a little unexpected, yes."

You walked up to Simeon and took off his mask yourself.

"But in the end, your angelic laugh gave you away," you said with a smile.

Simeon blushed. "I only wanted a moment alone with you and this seemed like the best place."

You put your arms around him. "It is," you said.

Simeon kissed you without prompting, his arms tightening around your waist and pulling you into him.

Solomon

You were the only two humans in the room. Maybe that was all it took. Perhaps it was the unmistakable bond between master and apprentice. You could even argue that after all the time you'd spent doing spells together, you simply knew the feeling of the other's magic. Whatever the reason, both you and Solomon knew each other upon first sight.

You both deliberately kept your distance, each of you sending glances at the other across the room at regular intervals. It was a look of knowing, a soft smile, quick eye contact, a conversation without words. You were the first one to ask him to dance. He accepted right away, holding you closer than a stranger would dare to as you moved together to the slow song that was playing.

You were a little startled when Solomon teleported you right off the dance floor. You grabbed onto his arms as the room spun a bit before resolving into his own room at Purgatory Hall.

You took a step back and folded your arms, frowning at him. "Was that really necessary?"

Solomon chuckled. "You sound upset, MC. After all those looks you gave me tonight, I thought you would want us to be alone."

You blushed and were grateful that you were still wearing your mask. "I mean, yes, obviously, but now everybody's going to be in uproar about it."

"No they won't," Solomon said, putting his arms around you again. "Nobody knew who you were, did they?"

You suspected that some of the others had figured out your identity. But the look in Solomon's still glamored eyes made your stomach flip and you found you no longer cared. You took off his mask and yours, tossing them aside before kissing him.

Mephistopheles

Maybe you wouldn't have known Mephistopheles with the glamor, but he gave himself away with his haughty demeanor. He moved around the room with his chin up, following Diavolo like a puppy. Everyone in the room was aware of Diavolo's identity, so it only made sense that the one constantly seeking his attention was likely Mephisto.

You approached and asked him to dance, knowing that his sense of correct manners would prevent him from saying no. He didn't seem to be able to tell exactly who you were as you danced with him. You wanted to ask him to meet you later, but you weren't sure if he would agree. So instead you mentioned that Lord Diavolo was going to be in the music room.

You were pleased to find Mephisto waiting when you showed up in the music room. He turned to you and frowned.

"I thought you said Lord Diavolo would be here," he said.

You took off your mask. "I'm sorry," you said. "I only said that because I didn't think you'd come if I just asked."

Mephisto's frown deepened as he took off his own mask. "You? What do you want?"

You came closer, tapping his chest with your fingertips, smile teasing. "Oh I don't know. It's a party. You seemed so tense and preoccupied. I thought you might like to let go a little."

Mephisto blushed, but he caught your hand in his. "And I suppose you think you can help me with that?"

You leaned forward, your faces almost touching. "If you let me."

Mephisto pulled your hand so you stumbled forward a little and your lips crashed into his. His arm wrapped around you and you couldn't resist putting your other hand on his cheek as you kissed him back.

Raphael

Raphael was almost painfully obvious. You even heard him say something about spears, which instantly let you know who you were dealing with. He seemed oblivious about who you were and he also seemed like he didn't particularly care who was who at all.

That was, until you asked him to dance. He agreed, but it was clear to you that he was puzzled. Not just about who you were, but why you wanted to dance with him. He likely thought you were a demon and therefore would want to stay far away from him. And yet, as the dance went on, he relaxed, which surprised you. Had he realized who you were? You thought he must have when he asked you to meet him in the garden.

When you arrived, he turned to look at you. He had already removed his mask and he had a rose in his hand, which he handed to you as you came closer.

"I asked you to come out here so I could give you this," he said, his voice serious, his demeanor as stiff as it always was.

You held the rose carefully and looked at him. "Do you… know who I am?"

Raphael smiled and it transformed his face. One moment he had been staring at you with an almost stern expression, but now there was a sweet softness that you rarely saw. "Of course I do, MC."

You sighed and took off your mask. "What gave me away?"

Raphael blushed lightly. "It was your kindness. I did not think a demon would ask to dance with me. I would have recognized if it had been Simeon or Solomon."

You couldn't help yourself. You leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips. To your complete surprise, Raphael put his hands on your waist, keeping you there and kissing you back. You found out in that moment how soft Raphael could become.

Thirteen

You expected it to be difficult to find Thirteen. You thought she likely didn't even want to be at the party at all. So you supposed she would keep to herself. But you should have known she wouldn't be able to give up a chance to trap a certain sorcerer. She had brought a trap that looked absolutely terrifying, but before it could be sprung, Barbatos intercepted it and had her take it apart.

She was sulking about the lost opportunity when you asked her to dance. The way she brightened up immediately made you think she must know it was you. You were the only one she seemed to genuinely like. She danced with you happily, smiling the whole time. When the dance was over, she asked you to meet her later in the planetarium.

As soon as you arrived, she was at your side. "MC! You came!"

You laughed and took off your mask. "How did you know it was me?"

Thirteen giggled. "Your shiny soul, of course! It was the first thing I saw when I got here!"

You blushed and reached out to take her mask off, too. "I might not have figured out who you were if it wasn't for that trap you brought."

Thirteen frowned and shook her head. "Barbatos ruined my chance."

You took her hand. "Maybe, but I'm sure you'll come up with an even better trap for Solomon."

Thirteen pulled you closer, her smile back. "You're so sweet, aren't you, MC?"

"Only to you," you said, leaning in and pausing only a breath away from Thirteen's lips.

Thirteen needed no further prompting, letting her lips meet yours as your arms slid around her.

Arsenios

The live band playing on the small stage seemed to consist of a group of demons all wearing the glamor-giving masks. You were a little mesmerized by the one who was playing the piano, but you had no idea who he was at first. You watched them play as you moved about the room, your eyes always going back to the demon at the piano. A few times, he looked up and met your eyes.

You noticed when band members began to take breaks, one of them leaving the stage while the others played something soft and mellow. So you were hovering by the drink table when the demon who had been playing the piano came to the table for some water.

"Hey there, MC," he said as he filled a little cup from a large glass jug with slices of Devildom citrus floating in it.

You frowned. "You know me?"

He shrugged and drank the whole cup in one long gulp. "There's a rhythm to the way you walk," he said.

Something about the way he said this clued you in to his identity. "Arsenios?"

He took off his mask, revealing that you were correct. "I didn't think you'd know me."

You pretended to be offended. "Really? Who else would recognize someone by the rhythm of their walk?"

Arsenios chuckled. "Yeah, okay, smart ass," he said.

You grinned and grabbed his hand, pulling him away from the drinks and into the nearest empty room, which happened to be the library. He let you lead him, an amused expression on his face when you turned back to him.

"I'm glad you're here tonight," you said. "Even if it is as the entertainment."

Arsenios reached up to remove your mask. He put it carefully aside before cupping your cheek in his hand. "And? Are you entertained?"

You leaned toward him. "Not yet."

Arsenios pulled you close and kissed you, arms enclosing you. You could just hear the soft strains of the music - sans piano - behind the beating of your heart.

part 1 with the demon brothers

flufftober | kinktober | masterlist | Thank you for reading!

taglist: @anxious-chick @t0tallycoolname @libidinous-weeb