#adjustable bed frame king

[bi-writes]

i NEED to know how simon would react to his mail order bride getting all pretty one night.... like maybe the night of their wedding... and she's all nervous because she thinks he expects sex and she's so paranoid about offending him or making the wrong noises or just being a nuisance

mail-order bride

simon and mail order bride did not having a wedding; they are married before they meet. have a peek into their first evening together. (18+)

simon laid your suitcase down onto the floor of his bedroom. you look around anxiously, eyeing the bedroom that is supposed to be your own. there's a king-sized bed in the middle of the room, matching dark-wood nightstands on each side. there's one that's clearly being used, a phone charging there and a half-full glass of water.

there's a dresser on the far wall, littered with picture frames and small trinkets, seemingly from other countries. little russian dolls and different fabrics from different places, wooden elephants and small dishes of wonderful patterns. there's a few drawers open there, and when you make your way closer, you can see it's because they're empty. he must've emptied them out for you to use.

there's one picture frame that's face-down. you pick it up to peek at it, and you smile when you look at the picture there. it's simon and a few similarly-looking people. simon is in uniform, face clear of scars. there's an older woman on one side of him, and then on the other side is a little family of three, a sweet couple and a little toddler on the woman's hip. you put it back down facing up before turning back to your suitcase.

you were supposed to just put your pajamas on. simon had been cleaning up the kitchen, and you figure that meant it was time for bed. you rummage through your suitcase, going to reach for your pajamas when you see the little lingerie set you packed.

it still has the tags on it. it's a red pair of lace panties with a matching bra, complete with little crystal bows and lots of detail. you clutch the lace in your hands, looking towards the door. simon doesn't seem like the kind of man to ask you to do something you wouldn't want to do. but you don't know what his expectations might be. you don't know how he intends his wife to behave.

you stand and take the undergarments with you to the bathroom. you change into them, sliding the pieces on and adjusting them until they fit you nicely. you swallow hard as you look in the mirror, smoothing your hands over your body; your tummy, your thighs, over your breasts. you don't know if he'll even like what he sees. you don't know what he expected you to look like, if he got to choose, if he knows what you are underneath and wanted you because of it or in spite of it.

when you come out of the bathroom, simon is rummaging through one of his drawers. when he turns around to face you, he immediately turns back around.

"fuckin' christ--what the fuck are y'doin'?"

you flinch at the bite of his voice. you wrap your arms around yourself in an attempt to self-soothe, your eyes tearing immediately as you take in his reaction.

"i..." you stutter. "i...i-i thought--"

"you thought wot?" he snaps, and when he turns around to come closer, you panic, taking the straps in shaking hands and starting to pull them down your arms for him. "no, fuck, stop that--"

he puts his hands over yours before your breasts can spill out of the bra. he narrows his eyes at you, shaking his head, and you start to cry softly.

"s-simon, i'm sorry--i-i thought--"

"shhh," he shushes you. "just...quiet."

your bottom lip trembles as he takes the lace straps of your bra delicately and brings them back up, smoothing them back onto your shoulders. you close your eyes when he cups your cheeks, big thumbs wiping at your face as he soothes you silently.

when simon emerges in the bathroom, he tries to be subtle as he cups himself through his boxers, sighing deeply as he flicks the light on. he jumps a little as he steps back, the cat sitting on the edge of the sink and staring at him knowingly.

simon gives it the finger before shooing it back outside.

[starkeyisthelastname]

found the picture on the right on pinterest and felt like writing a little cute moment for our pornstar!rafe 💖😩

Job aside, you and Rafe both loved the camera and capturing every little moment. You were still sore, having just given birth to your second child a couple of days ago. Your baby girl was the perfect addition to you and Rafe’s family. It was hard to believe you both now lived in a home together and shared two children. You both tried to push aside the fact one day you would have to explain to your kids what you did as a career. Right now you both were focused on having a toddler and a newborn.

You brought the camera up to take a picture of you and the sleeping baby girl in your arms. You were wearing next to nothing, but that was the most comfortable. You were exhausted and breastfeeding, not caring what you looked like. You still wanted to capture these precious moments, no matter how tired you were.

“Taking more pictures again?” Rafe's deep voice pulled out of your photography session, your head turning to meet his tall frame that was standing in the bathroom doorway. He was shirtless, toned upper body flexing as he leaned against the frame. “Lemme me see her.” He motioned you closer, blue eyes watching as you walked over and slowly handed him the tiny baby.

Rafe was so natural with both of your children, something that took you by surprise as he was so closed off and held a lot of trauma. He vowed to never make his kids feel the same way his dad made him feel. He held the baby girl protectively, unaware you had brought the camera up to take a picture of the heart warming moment in front of you. He was such a good daddy, something you knew he had stressed constantly about during both of your pregnancies.

“Little man’s knocked out.” He said, referring to your son whom much like Rafe was a handful. He was attached to the both of you, and having a new baby at home was going to be an adjustment. You hummed, setting the camera aside as you followed Rafe back into the master bedroom. The little boy was in fact asleep, his face all Rafe’s as he slept soundly in the king size bed.

It was hard to believe that this was the same man that you never thought would confess his feelings. You climbed in bed carefully, watching as Rafe walked over to his side with the baby still in his muscled arms. “Can’t believe I got two kids and shit now.” He said with a laugh, his large palm coming to rest on the baby girl’s back as he looked down the sleeping boy between the two of you.

He once thought that his bleach blonde hair, signature mustache and fucking on camera was the only thing he ever would be good for. Not that the ‘pussy slayer’ wasn’t entirely gone, he couldn’t wait until the doctor gave the clear to have sex again. But for the first time in his life he felt truly happy with everything he had. The girl he was crazy in love with and two beautiful kids, something that he never thought he was worth having.

[homishguide]

How To Cover Metal Bed Frame?

Best and Complete Guide 2023

Safety Of metal beds

Metal beds are a popular choice for many people due to their durability, affordability, and aesthetic appeal. However, concerns have been raised about the safety of metal beds, particularly in terms of the potential for injury. One of the main concerns is that metal beds can be sharp, and can cause cuts or scrapes if someone bumps into them. Additionally, metal beds can rust or corrode over time, which can also pose a safety hazard.

Another concern is the potential for metal beds to be unstable or wobbly, which can be dangerous if the bed collapses or becomes unstable while someone is sleeping on it. To mitigate these risks, it is important to ensure that the metal bed is of high quality and is properly constructed. It is also important to regularly inspect the bed for any signs of wear or damage, and to take steps to prevent rust or corrosion.

Moreover, metal beds with sharp edges can be covered with corner guards or tape. The bed frame should be sturdy and not wobble when you move around on it. It's also important to ensure that the bed is assembled properly and that the bolts and screws are tightened securely.

Overall, while there are some concerns about the safety of metal beds, these risks can be minimized by taking the proper precautions and ensuring that the bed is of high quality. With proper care and maintenance, a metal bed can be a safe and durable option for many years to come.

Read More: https://homishguide.com/how-to-cover-metal-bed-frame

[misswynters]

Winter’s Embrace — Chapter One

Cregan Stark x targaryen fem!reader

[synopsis: You arrive at winterfell, you feel unwelcomed and like an outsider. You weren’t used to not customs of the north.

[a/n: i know, it’s always a targaryen princess switch it up! (pls this is my first time ever writing) and there’s barely any cregan x readers.

[word count: 2.5k?

[note | pls don’t just like, reblog & give me feedback. i don’t want to get shadowbanned

next chapter |

Winterfell loomed on the horizon, its grey stone walls blending seamlessly with the winter landscape. As your carriage approached the gates, you felt a shiver run down your spine, not from the cold but from the uncertainty of what awaited you within those ancient walls. The North was a world away from the warm sands and fiery skies of King's Landing, where you had spent most of your life. Here, you were not just a stranger but a princess—a dragon in a land of wolves.

The carriage came to a halt, and you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what was to come. The door opened, and a gust of icy wind greeted you. Wrapping your cloak tightly around your shoulders, you stepped out into the courtyard, your breath visible in the frigid air. The guards watched you with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion, their eyes lingering a bit too long.

Cregan Stark, who’s the Warden of the North, stood at the entrance to the Great Hall, his imposing figure framed by the heavy wooden doors. He was a tall man with dark hair and piercing grey eyes that seemed to see straight through you. As you approached, he stepped forward, his expression one of polite interest.

“Princess,” he greeted you, his voice deep and resonant. “Welcome to Winterfell.”

"Thank you, Lord Stark" you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. "I greatly appreciate your hospitality."

He nodded, his gaze not wavering. "I hope you find Winterfell to your liking, though I fear it may not be as comfortable as the South."

You forced a smile. "I am sure it will be an adjustment, but nevertheless i will get used to it"

The Great Hall was bustling with activity as servants hurried about, preparing for the evening meal. The warmth of the fire was a welcome contrast to the cold outside, but it did little to dispel the feeling of being an outsider. You could feel the weight of their gazes, the whispered conversations that fell silent as you passed.

Cregan led you to your chambers, a modest but well-appointed room with a large bed and a roaring fire. "If you need anything, do not hesitate to ask," he said, his tone formal.

"Thank you, My lord," you replied, trying to keep the tremor out of your voice.

He hesitated for a moment, as if he wanted to say more, but then he simply nodded and left, closing the door behind him.

The days that followed were a blur of introductions and attempts to settle into a routine. The people of Winterfell were polite but distant, their mistrust evident in their eyes. You tried to make yourself useful, helping where you could, but it seemed that no matter what you did, you were always viewed as an dragon in a wolves den.

Cregan was kind but distant, his duties keeping him busy. He checked in on you regularly, making sure you were comfortable, but there was an unspoken tension between you. You sensed that he believed you were ill-suited for the harsh realities of the North, a delicate flower from the South who would wilt in the cold.

One evening, as you sat by the fire in your chambers, lost in thought, there was a knock at the door. “Enter,” you called, expecting one of the servants.

To your surprise, it was Cregan. He stepped inside, closing the door behind him. "I hope I am not disturbing you," he said.

"Not at all," you replied, gesturing for him to sit. "Please, join me."

He took a seat opposite you, the firelight casting shadows on his chiseled features. "I wanted to see how you are adjusting," he said. "I know this must be difficult for you.

You sighed, staring into the flames. "It is. But I am trying to accustomed to the way everything is done here."

He nodded, his gaze intense. "You are stronger than you appear, Princess. I see that."

You looked at him, surprised by his words. "Thank you, Lord Stark. That means a lot."

For a moment, there was a silence between you, the crackling of the fire the only sound. Then, Cregan spoke again, his voice softer. "I understand that you are a dragon dreamer."

Your heart skipped a beat. It was not something you spoke of often, the gift—or curse—that you carried. "Yes," you admitted. "I have dreams of dragons and the future."

He leaned forward, his eyes searching yours. "Do you trust your dreams?"

You hesitated, then nodded. "I do. They have never led me astray."

Cregan seemed to consider this, then leaned back in his chair. "Perhaps, in time, you will find your place here. The North is a harsh land, but it can also be a place of great beauty and strength."

You smiled, feeling a glimmer of hope. "I hope so, Lord Stark. I truly do."

As the days passed, you began to find small ways to integrate yourself into the life of Winterfell. You helped in the kitchens, learning the recipes and customs of the North. You spent time with the children, telling them stories of dragons and far-off lands. Slowly, the walls began to come down, and you felt a sense of belonging start to take root.

Cregan was a constant presence, his support and encouragement a source of strength. He seemed to understand the struggle you faced, the weight of expectations and the challenge of finding your place in a world that was not your own. There were moments when you caught glimpses of the man beneath the lord—the kindness in his eyes, the warmth of his smile.

One day, as you were walking through the courtyard, a group of women approached you. Their leader, an older woman with a stern expression, looked you up and down. "Princess," she said, her tone respectful but cold. "We have heard much about you."

You nodded, feeling a knot of anxiety in your stomach. "I hope it has been good."

The woman shrugged. "Some good, some not. But actions speak louder than words. We will see what kind of woman you truly are."

You smiled, determined to prove yourself. "I hope I can earn your respect."

Cregan watched from a distance, his heart swelling with pride as he saw you stand your ground. He knew the road ahead would not be easy, but he had no doubt that you were strong enough to walk it.

One night, as the storm raged outside, you found yourself unable to sleep. The dreams had been coming more frequently, visions of dragons and fire, of a future shrouded in darkness. You threw on a cloak and made your way to the Great Hall, seeking solace in the warmth of the fire.

To your surprise, Cregan was there, staring into the flames. He looked up as you entered, his expression softening. "Couldn't sleep?" he asked.

You shook your head, joining him by the hearth. "No. The dreams..."

He nodded, understanding. "Tell me about them."

You hesitated, then began to speak, the words flowing out of you like a river. You told him of the dragons, of the visions of a future both beautiful and terrifying. He listened intently, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Those are just visions, what matters is how you act upon them and not let them get to your head” he said in a soft tone.

Tears welled in your eyes, and you squeezed his hand. "Thank you, Cregan."

He smiled, his thumb brushing gently over your knuckles. "You are stronger than you know, Princess. And I am proud to stand by your side."

The days turned into weeks, and the snow outside showed no signs of abating. Within Winterfell, you began to find your place. You helped in the kitchens, worked alongside the maids, and even joined the training sessions in the yard. Slowly, the people began to see you not as an outsider, but as someone willing to share their burdens.

Cregan watched with growing admiration. One evening, as you sat by the hearth, he joined you, his presence a comfort in the cold.

"You've done well," he said, his voice warm.

You looked up at him, a smile playing on your lips. "Thank you. It hasn't been easy."

He reached out, his hand gently brushing against yours. "Nothing worth having ever is."

The thaw began slowly, both outside and within the hearts of Winterfell's people. The Northmen, once so wary, started to see you in a different light. Your actions, your kindness, and your determination had begun to win them over.

One day, as you helped prepare for a feast, one of the older women approached you. "You've done well, lass," she said, her voice gruff but not unkind. "You've proven yourself."

You smiled, feeling a weight lift from your shoulders. "I’m glad i was able to prove myself." Cregan, watching from across the room, felt a surge of pride.

[snoringkitty1]

Aventurine boyfriend Headcanons

TW: Fluff, not proofread, Mildly suggestive content. Enjoy <3

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡.•

Aventurine at the beginning of your relationship is a flirty bastard, he'll tease you to high hell and leave you high and dry for his own amusement.

There is 0 initial affection, he's only in it for his entertainment or because he has something to gamble or get from you.

Kisses you with his eyes open, atleast at the start.

But gradually, when you realizes you won't be leaving because of his lack of effort, he might just soften up and start to let his guard down a little.

Though of course this is after a while, but you'll start to see the more vulnerable and faint side to him.

He'll become more affectionate gradually the more he begins to trust you with his feelings, though, it still might take a while. Patience is key.

He's still flirty no doubt, but now there's actually feelings and meaning to his words, and they aren't bluffs anymore.

His sense of fashion may or may not rub off on you..aka he forces you to wear matching clothes, it makes him feel special.

"Do i really need to where this..? Matching outfits are so tacky." You grumbled and adjusted the hat on your head before sighing and taking it off, running your fingers along the rim and raising a brow. "Well, you don't need to, but i would love you more if you did." He joked and fixed a few details on your jacket before taking the hat from your hands and setting it on your head. "You don't love me enough already?" You pouted and looked up at him. He smiled and shook his head, pulling you close for a kiss, his hands holding tight onto your waist as he trapped you in a kiss. "I love you~" He cooed softly and leaned back, "Some matching clothes won't change that." he assured and rubbed your cheek before stepping back and putting his hands in his pockets, "now~ shall we?"

The king of shopping dates, if you don't like shopping though, then the two of you will probably be having at home dates most of the time.

But don't think for a second he isn't buying the most delectable (and expensive) food he can find, because to him, if its clothes, food, hair, nails, you name it. He thinks you're a worthy investment (he just likes to spend money on you.)

Speaking of giving presents, thats simply his love language, because i reckon he feels like if he gives enough, then he won't have to worry about you leaving him.

That being said, he'll need a bunch of reassurance to stop giving random super expensive presents. He'll still give you some regardless but he'll tone it down significantly.

He comes off as the kind of guy who only gives or takes longer kisses, to me atleast.

He might use this to his advantage if he perhaps gets jealous, which i think happens pretty often.

But i think there's also a chance of him just absolutely demolishing you once you two are home behind closed doors.

Switch energy, but can and will top when he feels like it.

He'll let you decide the pace though, he doesn't want intimate moments to feel transactional.

Afterwards, i Dunno i feel like he'd just fall asleep with you, then take of you the next morning.

You rolled away onto your stomach..or tried to, the tight grip of a certain blonde kept you from moving too far away. When you let out an uncomfortable grunt though, Aventurine was quick to let go and sit up to check on you. You opened your eyes and looked up at him, smiling a little before closing them again, "I'm fine, i'm fine.." you mumbled softly, but that didn't deter him. He leaned down and kissed your cheek before getting up, you opened your eyes and sat up on your elbows to watch him, he disappeared into the closet briefly and returned with one of his shirts. "Here you go Darling~" he cooed softly and held the shirt out from you, his messy bed head framed his face nicely. "ah..thank you-" you smiled and put it on before flopping back again. "Anything else i can get you? I can order food, or make bre-" He paused when you pulled him close all of a sudden. "Just cuddle with me for a little bit.." You muttered softly, and He nodded, pulling you close again..and like that, you two were cozy and asleep in minutes.

Thanks for reading.

[idkyetxoxo]

Aegon Targaryen - A Night on Silk Street

Summary - It was well known that Aegon Targaryen had a preferred brothel worker and he made no secret of his appreciation for her. His gratitude was as generous as it was lavish, reflecting his clear favour. Truly, Aegon the Magnanimous, they say.

Pairing - Aegon Targaryen x reader

Warnings - Sexual content (smut!), mild language

Word count - 2114

Masterlist for Aegon • House of the Dragon General Masterlist.

Silk Street in King's Landing truly came alive after dusk, transforming into a vibrant tapestry of sights and sounds. 

The clink of tankards filled with ale echoed through the narrow streets, mingling with the boisterous laughter of patrons spilling from taverns. 

Lanterns flickered in the warm night air, casting a golden glow on the cobblestones as the whores, draped in silks and lace, paraded with practised grace, their smiles as much a part of the night as the moonlight itself.

Working in a brothel was an experience unlike any other. It wasn't something I ever dreamed of or took pride in, but it provided a dependable way to make an honest living. 

Each night, I traded fragments of my soul for coin, a small price to pay for survival in a city where women like me had little choice.

I reclined on my back, the bronze silk robe already draped over me as I toyed with the coin between my fingers. My latest patron, having finished his indulgence, was now dressing and preparing to leave.

The curtains of my alcove were thrown open with a sharp flick, and I let out a resigned sigh. 

"Not yet," I murmured, stretching my legs out languidly without bothering to lift my gaze.

"I'm sorry, my love," Sylvi's voice broke through the dim light. I turned my head to see her standing in the doorway, her silhouette framed by the flickering lanterns in the corridor.

"He was Northern," I began, propping myself up on one elbow and clutching the coin tightly in my hand. "And we both know what Northern men are like," I added, swinging my legs back and forth with a weary, yet knowing smirk.

"It's the king," Sylvi interjected, her tone sharp and urgent. I exhaled sharply, the weight of the revelation sinking in.

"You go," I instructed, but Sylvi's eyes narrowed in question.

"I'm with the prince," she replied, her voice tinged with a mixture of amusement and challenge.

I sprang from my makeshift bed, grabbing a pillow that had fallen to the floor, and poured myself a drink. 

"Look at us," I said, gesturing between us with a wry smile. "Commanding them like royal hounds." 

Sylvi laughed, the sound a rare burst of genuine mirth in the otherwise subdued atmosphere.

It was no secret that the royal brothers had their favourites. Aemond clung to the first woman he'd been with, finding comfort in familiarity, while Aegon had made me his chosen plaything after sampling every other woman in the brothel.

"Loyal pups, aren't they?" Sylvi remarked, and I nodded, downing my drink in a swift motion.

I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and adjusted my robe, preparing for the night's demands.

With a playful curtsy, I left the dim confines of my alcove and made my way toward the more opulent quarters reserved for those patrons who could afford the highest pleasures. 

The clink of coins and the promise of indulgence awaited in the luxurious spaces where the city's nobles sought their desires fulfilled.

I entered the private alcove, pulling the curtain shut behind me with a practised motion. Aegon turned with a boyish grin, his clothes already strewn carelessly about, revealing his eager anticipation. He was already in the mood for the evening's pleasures.

"Would you like a drink?" I asked, moving to the small table where a jug of fine wine awaited.

The wine reserved for nobles was always better, sweeter, more fragrant, and rich with layers of flavour. I poured myself a generous cup, the liquid glistening in the dim light.

"Yes," he responded, his voice warm and inviting. 

He approached me with a confidence that came from knowing his own desires, wrapping his arms around me from behind. His fingers deftly unfastened the ties of my robe, letting the fabric slip away with practised ease.

As his hands traced a slow, deliberate path up my sides, he pressed soft kisses along the curve of my neck, gently pushing aside the strands of my hair to expose more of my skin. His touch was both tender and thrilling, a prelude to the night ahead.

I turned to face him, feeling the heat of his body against mine. Our chests brushed together, and I handed him his cup, my eyes meeting his with a knowing glance. 

With a gentle, guiding touch, I led him towards the bed, our steps synchronized in the intimate dance we knew so well. 

The anticipation crackled in the air, blending seamlessly with the allure of the fine wine and the promise of the pleasures yet to come.

"Has it been a long night?" he asked, his voice low and warm as I settled onto his lap, straddling him comfortably. His hands rested casually on my hips, a gesture of both possession and affection.

"Not really," I replied truthfully, my fingers idly playing with the soft strands of his silver hair. The familiar hum of his contentment vibrated against my fingertips.

"Just some Northern men," I added with a knowing smile. "We all know how they can be." 

The Northern men were known for their brutish charm and cold demeanour, a contrast to the warmth and ease of my current company.

"Well, aren't you lucky that I have you for the rest of the night then," he said with a grin. 

His arm slid down the gentle curve of my back, coming to rest possessively on my ass, where he gave a soft, appreciative squeeze.

"So lucky," I whispered, leaning in closer, our breaths mingling. His smirk widened, a reflection of his satisfaction and the shared intimacy of the moment.

He leaned in, capturing my lips in a kiss that quickly turned fervent. His tongue sought entry to my mouth, and I responded with equal hunger. Our kiss deepened, a tactile conversation of longing and desire.

His hands slid up my back, pulling me closer as he stood up, carefully twisting us around. With a graceful yet decisive motion, he laid me back on the bed. I propped myself up on my elbows, watching him with a mixture of anticipation and curiosity as he pulled away.

With a mischievous glint in his eye, he reached for the cup of wine beside us. 

"Lay back," he instructed softly. I complied, my heart racing as I settled into the plush covers.

He tipped the contents of the cup, the rich, red wine cascading slowly down my chest. The cool liquid trickled down the valley of my breasts, and a soft gasp escaped my lips at the unexpected sensation.

Aegon positioned himself over me, his tongue darting out to savour the wine from my skin. 

"You taste divine," he murmured, his voice a sultry purr that reverberated through the room.

He licked the liquid off my chest with deliberate strokes, his warm breath sending shivers down my spine. He followed the trail of wine down to my navel, pausing just under my bellybutton.

"So sweet," he murmured, his voice a low, sultry purr that reverberated through the room.

With a tender, deliberate movement, he pressed a soft kiss just below my navel, his lips lingering briefly before he continued his sensual journey upwards. His kisses traced a path to my breasts, his fingers trailing up my midline in sync with his lips.

He opened my mouth gently with his thumb, placing his fingers just in front of me. 

"Taste," he instructed softly, his voice a mix of command and allure.

I complied eagerly, my lips wrapping around his fingers as I began to suck the remaining wine from his skin. Each slow, deliberate motion was met with his intense gaze, a silent exchange of desire and connection. 

His eyes never left mine as I moved, savouring the taste and the shared experience.

He withdrew his fingers from my mouth, his eyes lingering on my parted lips, and then he kissed me again, his lips capturing mine with a fervour that spoke of the passion that had been building between us. 

He paused briefly to admire me, his eyes dark with lust. With a smooth, practised motion, he positioned himself above me, the weight of his body a reassuring presence.

The anticipation built to a crescendo as he aligned himself with me, his touch both commanding and tender. The moment he entered me was a heady mix of relief and ecstasy, our bodies moving in a rhythm that spoke of both need and satisfaction. 

His movements were deliberate and controlled, each thrust a blend of passion and dominance.

The room was filled with the sound of our breathing, the mingled scents of wine and sweat, and the soft rustle of the bedclothes. 

"You feel incredible," he panted, his gaze locked onto mine. 

Aegon's rhythm grew more insistent, his hands gripping my hips as he drove into me with a fervour that matched the intensity of the night. His breaths came in deep, ragged gasps, and his gaze locked onto mine.

"Ride me," he commanded, his voice a low rumble filled with desire. 

He pulled out of me, his gaze locked onto mine with a compelling intensity as he guided me to switch positions. I nodded, my heart pounding with anticipation, and shifted until I was straddling him.

As I lowered myself onto him, the sensation of him filling me again was both exhilarating and grounding. I began to move on top of him, starting with gentle, rhythmic rocks. Aegon's hands rested on my hips, and he reached for the cup of wine once more.

Without breaking our rhythm, he poured the remaining wine down my chest, the cool liquid mingling with the heat of our bodies. 

He leaned forward, his tongue tracing the path of the wine, licking it off my front as I rode him, the sensation driving us both wild.

His touch became more insistent, his hands trailing up to cup my breasts, his thumbs brushing over my nipples in a way that sent shivers through me. I increased the pace, our movements perfectly synchronized as we lost ourselves in the moment.

Soft, breathy moans escaped my lips as I leaned down, my hands resting on his chest for support as I bounced up and down. His mouth followed the trail of wine up my body until our lips met in a heated kiss, the taste of the wine and the shared pleasure making the moment all the more intoxicating.

"Is this what you wanted?" I whispered, my voice barely audible over the sounds of our shared pleasure.

"Yes," he panted, his eyes locked onto mine with a fierce intensity. "Just like that." 

The sensations built and swirled around us, each movement a perfect harmony of desire and fulfilment. As his breaths became more erratic, his grip on my hips tightened. "I'm about to—" he choked out, his voice breaking off into a deep, guttural groan.

With a final, powerful surge, he reached his climax. The warmth of his release spilt inside me, the sensation both intense and familiar. I could feel the depth of his pleasure as it enveloped me, marking the peak of our encounter.

As he reached his climax, I gradually slowed my movements, allowing the intensity to gently fade. We separated, the room now enveloped in a quiet, satisfied stillness. I slipped off him and fell onto the bed beside him, the cool sheets a comforting contrast to our shared heat.

His arm reached out to pull me closer, his fingers trailing softly down my body in a tender, lingering touch.

"Much better than those Northern brutes?" he asked, his voice laced with playful satisfaction.

I laughed, nodding in agreement. "Oh, absolutely," I replied, the sound of my laughter mingling with the quiet of the room.

He fumbled around for a moment before presenting me with a small pouch. I sat up, curiosity piqued, and opened it to reveal a substantial amount of coins. The sight of the glittering pile was impressive, more than I had expected.

"What's this?" I asked, spilling the contents onto the bed in front of me. "This is way too much."

"Nonsense," he said with a dismissive wave of his hand, his fingers drumming through the pile of coins as if to emphasize their abundance.

"It's more than you've ever given me," I pointed out, astonished by the sheer amount.

He shrugged casually, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "Consider it a bonus for the night," he said nonchalantly. "You've earned it."

I looked at him, a mixture of surprise and appreciation in my eyes. It was almost endearing, seeing this powerful man so completely under my spell.

"Well, I certainly won't complain," I replied with a smile, my fingers deftly gathering the coins and tucking them away. The unexpected generosity was a pleasant surprise, a mark of the night's success.

Tonight, Silk Street thrummed with an unusually vibrant energy.

A/n -  Wine and sex... pure heaven for Aegon the Magnanimous 👀

[lxkeee]

END GAME

PART TWO

pairing: lucifer x fallen angel! fem! reader

fandom: hazbin hotel

genre: fluff

warnings: no warnings yet.

notes: very feral for this man and this is multishot fic and would be writing a smut for this. Reader is close to his age (probably a hundred years younger but meh)

additional notes: just because there are moments where Lucifer seems to be flustered or like mesmerized by the reader, it doesn't mean he already has a crush. It just means that he's been alone for so long that anyone who's gorgeous would make him get flustered cuz it's been awhile since he socialized with others lmfao. I am planning to make their relationship slowly bloom cuz why not?

PART ONE | PART THREE

“The name's Lucifer Morningstar, welcome to hell.” the light blond haired man said with slight smile and [y/n] can feel her jaw dropped. This is the first fallen angel? The king of hell? Very pale skin, short stature, pink cheeks, attractive. [Y/n] believes that the stories from ancient heavenly scrolls didn't do him any justice.

Lucifer just gave her a small toothy grin as he watched the awe look on her face as he leans his body against the door frame, crossing his arms as he looked at her. “You're Lucifer...?” she asked softly, looking at him with slight doubt and he nodded, “Indeed I am darling.” he replied with a grin, almost a smirk.

“You're much shorter than I thought you would be.” [y/n] says looking at him and Lucifer felt like an arrow was shot into his heart, if she stood next to him it would be guaranteed that she'll be looking down on him literally, “Though, I do believe that the heavenly scrolls did not do you any justice. You are prettier than how the scrolls describe you to be.” she says with a grin, crossing her arms on her chest as Lucifer just looked at her, blinking slowly as the red of his cheeks darkened slightly.

I swear to me, why is she so bold? He asked himself mentally.

He cleared his throat before eventually looking back at her, “Are you normally this bold to strangers?” he asked with a deadpan and [y/n] snorted a little, “Usually, I'm more.” she replied and Lucifer had to take a deep breather as he mumbled “Jesus...” underneath his breath making the woman chuckle.

[y/n] haven't paid him any mind, chuckling slightly to see the ruler of hell to be easily flustered. “I assumed you healed me? How long was I out?” she asked him, deciding to stop teasing the poor man. Lucifer managed to calm himself down, adjusting the collar to his suit, “Yes, you have crashed into my front yard but don't mind about it. You've been in a coma for almost... Three weeks.” he replied before eventually walking towards her and sat on the bed. His expression softened as his hand grazed over her shoulder blades, “They really cut off your wings...” he muttered softly and she just sighed, “Indeed they did.”

Deciding not to make her uncomfortable, he removed his hand from her shoulders, “If you don't mind me asking, what happened?” he asked and she gently lied down on to the bed, avoiding his gaze.

“Heaven was suffocating. Too many rules and I began to question them.” she replied softly and Lucifer just nodded in understanding, “I would probably have been bearable if I was allowed to punch Adam occasionally but nope.” she jokes slightly, making the light blond haired fallen angel chuckle, “Indeed.” he says softly making the woman giggle. Lucifer then gave her a raised eyebrow, “I think now's the time I catch the name of the person I took care of for almost three weeks. Hmm?” he asked with a slight hum. [Y/n] smiled before returning back to her sitting position, extending her hand for a handshake, “My name is [Y/n] [l/n], it is a pleasure to meet you.” she says and Lucifer smiled and held her hand and gave her knuckle a chaste kiss, “The pleasure is all mine.”

[y/n] just chuckles as he lets go of her hand, “As expected, you really are charming.” she says making Lucifer laugh slightly, “Thank you, now.” he says before clapping his hands together, “Since you are new here, I assume that you don't have anywhere to stay. How about you work for me? You are a fallen angel so I know you are powerful. So what do you say?” he asked, extending his hand with a slight smirk. [Y/n] looked at his hand with a raised eyebrow and with a small teasing smile.

“A deal with the devil...? What's the catch?” she asked, crossing her arms making Lucifer chuckle, “This isn't the usual deal where you sell your soul to me, that kind of deal requires a contract with your signature of consent. This is just a normal deal for you to work and be my assistant while getting a place to stay in return.” he explained, despite the smirk on his face, [y/n] cannot sense deception from the man. She sighs before eventually shaking his hand.

“You got yourself a deal, Lucifer.” she says making the king of hell smirk, “You won't regret it.”

end notes: and I worked like a doggg day and night 😭

[murdrdocs]

chad charming with a little girlfriend who’s from the isle and who’s completely inexperienced in more ways than one! chad charming with a corruption kink!! chad charming!!!

corruption kink; egotistical chad (typical); MDNI 18+ w/ CHAD CHARMING

you know this is going to fan the flames of his ego.

compared to how you knew him back at auradon prep, chad's calmer since coming to college, at least you thought he was. less egotistical, finally accepting that he would never be king of auradon, starting to realize that the world didn't revolve around chad. but he's still chad charming, so for now, the world revolved around him and you.

chad's little girlfriend from the isle. his project in some ways, an excuse for him to explain every little detail about auradon, down to why the roads are paved the way they are. he liked feeling needed, you liked the look in his eye when he got to explain something to you, it was a win-win. even more so when chad's experience, and your lack of, worked out like this—the two of you locked away in chad's dorm, sitting on his bed facing each other.

chad's question still sits in the air, hovering around you, breathing down your neck.

you're a virgin? he asked you, his tone incredulous, his eyes wide, and his mouth pulled into a small grin.

you don't mean to respond how you do, but it's second nature to scoff, roll your eyes, and cross your arms over your chest like you're nothing but an impertinent teenager.

he instantly attempts to do damage control.

"no, i didn't mean that in a bad way, okay? i swear." he holds up his pointer finger and draws an 'X' over his heart. "cross my heart."

when you don't make a move to leave, he places his hands on your hips, tugging in an effort to get you to cooperate and move with him. you do as told, shuffling forward until you're straddling chad's waist.

he looks up at you, hazel eyes squinted and his lips parted. "you want me to show you?"

what follows is one of the only times where chad's cockiness becomes useful, because he does know what he's doing. he doesn't second guess himself when he pulls your panties down and lifts up the skirt of your dress. he asks you if you're okay and if you're comfortable, and then as soon as you nod, he has a hand between your legs and pressed up against your center.

there's barely any nervous fumbling, nothing but an adjustment or two. he knows what he's looking for, and as soon as he finds it—a spot deep within you and off to the side—he doesn't miss it again. he watches you the entire time, lashes framing his lidded eyes and the corner of his top lip arched up, the slight furrow between his brows slightly covered by blond curls.

he looks equal parts amazed and concentrated, possibly the most focused you've ever seen him before. having all this attention placed on just you has your stomach churning, a feeling unlike something you've ever felt before crawling up your spine.

you've touched yourself before, you're not completely inexperienced (not that chad knows ... that's something you'll save for another day) but having someone else's hands pleasure you is different. the foreign touch makes it so much better, not knowing what to expect makes you want it even more.

the sudden urge to beg twists in your throat, slipping into your voice box and almost sliding up your throat. but you stifle the request for more, knocking your head into chad's shoulder as your fingertips press into his shirt.

you don't even have to say anything, chad knows what you're feeling.

"you're close, right?" you nod, not trusting your voice at all at this point.

"look at me," he says, his free hand sliding up your back until he cups the back of your head. "i wanna see what you look like."

it's like you can see the ego boost flooding his brain when he makes you cum. you see the way his eyes widen just a bit when your pussy clenches around his fingers and your lips part. you see the astonishment and the gratification entering him as you twitch and moan, chanting his name through it all.

chad loves feeling needed, knowing that he's the one who got you here like this. it makes him want to show you more ways he can make you feel good.

[death---dealer]

'come back' this 'why dont you just quit' that SHUT UP ART TAKES TIME and i'M GOING THROUGH STUFF. I swear I'm working on stuff for other characters Caesar is my comfort CHARACTER THO.

Before the Sun.

Caesar was teetering between deep sleep and a lucid state, the fluttering of his eyelids were indicative of that. A soft smile tugged its way onto your expression, fallen with slumber itself as you had only just woken up a minute prior. The Ape King was vulnerable, or at least so you thought as your stare studied the way Caesar was resting on his stomach, his shoulders rising and falling with an inclined pace of drowsiness. It was rare in and of itself to see the broad body of him sleeping, every carnal and primal intent seeped out of the very tips of his fur the night before casting in you in a naked hue beside him.

He never slid his entire large frame on your side, save for the usual arm that was spread against your roused body, ultimately keeping you pinned between the rippled muscles under his thickened furred forearm and the animal hides that helped cushion the nest below on your back. 

It was hard to see the angles of his face much to your displeasure as the dawn had yet to crest itself into the shared bed bringing with it the first morning light that played shadows of delicacies against Caesar’s already sharpened features. Instead, you found your fingers dragging against the grain of Caesar’s furred arm, upwards towards his bicep, never admitting that you longed to have him awake but that was the intent deep inside of your dozy train of thought. 

There was a grumble of a baritone from the Ape beside you. “You… should be sleeping…” “I could say the same.” The retort you had was quick as if you anticipated his words, a smile of acute fondness taking hold against the edges of your lips. Caesar processed your words slowly, hearing the infliction you had used and without even looking towards you, he was able to deduce that you had been smiling. Something he himself desired to see. The Chimp was still lingering in a dream-state as he rolled his gaze open just long enough to make minor eye contact that cause you to yearn to see the green-gold of his irises looking at you and only you as if it were the first time making such intimate contact in the first place. It felt ardent and aggressive, the way that your heart fluttered against your ribcage with his next words, the deep richness like silken honey enough to keep you captivated. “Hm… Council meeting… This morning. Must… Wake soon.”

The words made sense but you were unwilling to waver to them as did Caesar as you were pulled inwards towards him. As if the 'C' shaped position he held his hand against your exposed skin, exploding the nerves to the point of exasperated goosebumps, was gravity itself and you found it difficult not to help the equation by rolling and bringing your face into his neck. You could almost feel the movement of the ripping muscles of Caesar's jugular as he adjusted his head for your placement, always happy and fulfilled to let his face press into the crown of your head as you puzzled your expression into his neck. Eyelids fluttered shut at the impact that felt so natural.

His scent was indescribable as usual to your waking nostrils which then began to tangle happily with the dreams that you imagined were ingrained in some deepened part of your subconscious. Deeply stuck with notes of the Muir Woods, the vines snaking up the trees and musk as if Caesar had accidentally rubbed his shoulder against dampened foliage and the tiny droplets of moisture were still clinging to the frayed tips of his fur.

All so inviting and all too alluring as your eyelids fluttered shut in drowsed bliss for a split second longer than you would have liked as you wanted to do nothing more than admire Caesar before he needed to trudge himself out of the nest to begin his day. Shoulders strong and wide, gait paced and sure. Green and golden catapulted irises that were so intent and detailed on all aspects around him that it was a spectacle itself to watch Caesar scan the Colony in search of answers that bore no inquiry to being with. All things that translated and transcended all attention from Apes and Humans alike in his presense.

“It’s not morning yet…” Your voice is barely above a whisper as Caesar chortled in response, a mixture of innate affection from your teasing phrase and the way that your breath catapulted against his fur, sinking in from the proximity your face was to his thickened neck into his skin below and shattering against it like fire against an ice sheet. Canines peeking out momentarily which captivated your faltering gaze before they rested shut permanently, consumed by the warmth that Caesar always provided along with the shield of protection that always lingered around your Mate.

"The Sun's not even up..." That tapered off with a slumber filled yawn against Caesar's fur, a few strands letting them case between your lips as you beckoned your body closer to the Ape and entangling yourself further much to Caesar's adamance to wake sooner rather than later.

Feeling you soft against his harder body coated with pristine and thickly dense muscles, the ricochets of your breathing along his neck and down the scape towards where his shoulder fused all tempted him to linger, to stay and bide time that was meant for a meeting. Caesar could spare a few moments, maybe even minutes if you wanted to be more persuasive.

You could feel the pressing of ovals against your side as his grip on your tender and naked flesh became more possessive and coated with intentions that were fluttering against the horizon just like the Sun itself. He'd wait to get up until it had risen. Despite it being a Human Technicality. Caesar would have it no other way as he grunted quietly, fusing your body against his to keep warm for the rest of the pre-dawn morn.

[chxrryhansen]

౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ Cherry’s Concepts 6/50

Character; Rafe Cameron

Kink; Non con (DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT)

Dialogue; “Look at the mess you made.”

Requested by; Anon <333

As always, this blog contains 18+ content only, your media consumption is your own responsibility, THIS IS A DARK FIC!!! Please be warned, this fic is NON CONSENSUAL. Read at your own risk

₊♡₊˚ 🍒・₊✧

You stirred in the silky bed sheets, yawning as you woke from your nap, attempting to raising your hands to wipe away the crust.

Except they wouldn’t move.

You shot up, slowly becoming more aware of your surroundings as your eyes adjusted to the darkness. Each of your wrists were cuffed to opposing ends of a king size bed. The cuffs restraining you jingled as you attempted to pull your hands free.

How could this have possibly happened?

Your memory jogged as you recalled being at a party, hosted by a random boy you hadn’t even met. A party you didn’t want to attend in the first place but of course caved at your best friend’s pleads and bribery to pay for your drinks for the night- and the next few.

You remembered being blackout drunk, no longer caring about manners you had crawled into the first bed you found. Falling into a deep sleep.

As your eyes adjusted you noticed a tall male frame standing at your left. Due to the darkness of the room you couldn’t quite make out the face of the mysterious figure.

“Wh-Who are you?” you trembled, your body shaking in fear.

“Spread your legs.” the male commands, ignoring your question, his voice stern but oddly familiar. Your breathing picks up as you begin to panic, your hands flailing as you begin to scream “Help! H-“ He rushes forwards, his large hand smacking over your mouth essentially silencing your cries.

“Scream like that again and i- i swear to god i’ll fuckin’ kill you.” he growled.

“You got that?” he pressured once again, you nodded your head at a rapid pace, believing his threat to be true.

His hand fell from your mouth as he straddled you from above, his thick hands pulling up your dress and pushing your panties to the side. He groaned at the sight of your pretty pussy, soaked for him already and you didn’t realise it.

Before you knew it, the mystery man had removed his boxers and began to palm his cock in his hand. His thick shaft leading up to a swollen pink tip. His balls big and full of cum, ready to empty inside you.

Without warning he pressed his bulbous tip against your hole and thrust forcefully into you. Bottoming out in a single thrust as you began to scream at the top of your lungs.

His hand once again covered your mouth, only this time his other hand pinched your nose alongside it. Oxygen left your lungs faster than you imagined, your body thrashed, legs kicking, arms flailing. Still impailed on his fat cock, your pussy clenched in desperation of breath making him let out a long moan as he smothered you.

Just as you felt your body still and you begin to roll back he removed his grasp. You gasped desperate to fill your lungs with as much oxygen as you could get.

You were cut off as he began to thrust his length into you, your walls sucking him in. “You’re fuckin’ soaked, always knew you were a whore.” he sneered as you cried out. You begged him to stop, telling him he didn’t need to do this and that you promised not to tell anybody which only seemed to entice him further.

Suddenly you felt a knot in your stomach begin to tighten “No no no.” you choked, desperate to not cum all over your rapists cock.

You couldn’t hold in your moans of pleasure as you squirted, your juices coating his cock and his abs. “F-fuck look at the mess you made, dirty fuckin’ girl” he grunted.

His hips stuttered as his warm seed began to fill you up, hot ropes of cum spurted into your cunt, leaking out due to the amount of sperm he emptied inside of you. You quivered and shook around his length, coming down from your forced high.

He leaned over you, flicking on the light switch beside his bed.

You closed your eyes as the bright light made them sting, slowly blinking as your pupils shrunk down and your vision became less blurry.

Your face fell further as you recognised the figure infront of you. Your squirt still dripping down his body and his cum still leaking out of your own.

“Cmon’ don’t look so shocked you slut, it was only a matter of time before i found you.” Rafe chuckled as he watched your eyes begin to fill up with tears once again. How did he find you?

How does he always fucking find you.

[chilling-seavey]

Fantasy. Dream. Moment. (gr63)

↳ A/N Here we have it! The final blurb from my 1.5k celebration! Thank you all for submitting your song requests or questions...and thank you so much for being a part of my little corner of the internet! Now get ready for a perfect balance of spice and angst.

↳ Inspired By: 'Moment' by Victoria Monét

↳ Pairings: George Russell x Fem!Reader (NO use of y/n)

↳ Word Count: 970

↳ Warnings: NSFW undertones (no detailed description)

The shiny gold trophy that sat on the bedside table of the luxury hotel room housed a large number 1 along the base. George’s furrowed gaze focused on it, narrowing in on the meticulously carved curves of the sculpture glinting in the moonlight through the open curtains. It was the newest addition to his collection. His career was on the rise. His life, in every other aspect, felt like it was slipping through his fingers.

In moments like that, after the high of a win, the only thing to do was try to keep that feeling going for as long as possible. Usually a party, a club, never ending bottles of champagne and music loud enough to make ears ring. Instead, the silent hotel room George found himself back in housed only the faint creak of the king size bed. Hazy and elated, his body was flushed with heat that burned right down to the tips of his fingers, pressing indentations into your bare hips.

He didn’t speak; too focused on the pleasure of your body and the physical ecstasy that swirled around in his mind. This was his reward. He didn’t need anything else. Your sweet moans were a gift enough, bringing him right into the moment where time felt infinite and euphoria was tangible. That sweet, sweet high lingering in his bloodstream.

You spoke filthy words to him through the duvet clutched in your hands; words he didn’t register as his one-track mind had him all too focused on getting another finish that night. That was all he wanted. His eyes flicked back to his trophy still stained in champagne from the podium celebration: a reminder of the rise and fall of his aspirations. A win followed by the expected emptiness of loss. He was desperate to take control into his own hands.

Looking down at you bent over for him, his large hands gripped tighter to your waist, kneading the flesh of your hips as he yanked you into his rough motions. He counted himself down in his head, one count per stroke, just like the laps he had completed only hours earlier. One at a time. Fast and surely.

The fireworks that had burst across the inky sky above the night-kissed circuit upon completion of the grand prix were nothing compared to those that shone in George’s eyes. He pulled out quickly, letting his hand do the rest as lewd streaks of white landed up your back. They looked like the crisp white painted lines that framed the track he just drove. Two of his fingertips pushed up your spine between the mess like he was navigating the circuit again, gliding over the bumps of your vertebrae for a moment before sitting back on his haunches with a sigh. His eyes locked on his trophy again.

You adjusted yourself to be propped up on your forearms to look over your shoulder at him.

“You good?” you asked.

Your voice startled him slightly, as if he had already forgotten you were there. He cleared his throat and moved to lay beside you, draping an arm across his sweaty forehead, “Yeah. Good.”

Running your hand over his bare chest that was flushed with euphoria, you kept your eyes on his face for a moment as if waiting for him to say something else. When he didn’t, you patted your hand against his warm skin once and said, “I’m gonna find a towel.”

He didn’t even offer a nod, watching you get up from the bed and walk, naked, into the bathroom around the corner. The light was switched on and streaked across the carpet into the bedroom. George lolled his head to the side to look out the floor to ceiling windows of yet another luxury hotel, trying to steady the racing of his heart. He let out a breath and ruffled a hand through his hair to tame it a little, his mind going a mile a minute.

He kept glancing over to the bathroom to see when you’d return. He already felt lonely and cold.

Finally, when you walked back into the room after cleaning yourself up, you bent down to grab your underwear from the floor and started to put it on. George watched you and propped himself up on his elbows for a better view, trying to figure out how to say what he wanted to say without sounding like a complete idiot.

“Can you…stay the night?” he finally spoke.

Your eyes rose to his, expression unreadable but still polite, as you did your bra back up, “You only paid for two hours.”

“I’ll pay more.” he replied quickly. Almost embarrassingly quickly.

You chuckled warmly, retrieving your shirt, your pants, “I can’t.”

“Please.”

“I have the right to refuse.” you reminded him firmly, yet kind, giving him a glance as you buttoned your pants up and pulled on your blouse.

George bit the inside of his cheek, staring at you. He didn’t argue.

Once you were dressed and your purse was over your shoulder, you inquired, “The money?”

He gestured to the dresser where his wallet and phone had been tossed earlier in the night before dropping flat onto the bed again and raking his fingers through his hair. You helped yourself to the luxury leather wallet and pulled out a few bills, counting to make sure you got your payment, and then tucked them away in your purse.

When you turned back to him, his face was in his hands.

“Congratulations again.” you called out to him from across the spacious hotel room as you slipped on your heels, “You’re really living the dream.”

George didn’t answer and he didn’t watch you leave. With the click of the door behind you, he was left entirely alone once again. Just him and his trophy.

"Take away your pain, give me all of your emotions Land it like a plane on my back if you can't hold it Life is but a dream that you manifested slowly So fuck a fantasy, this your motherfuckin' moment"

[thefty-o]

Holiday Magic Mishap 2

I roll over in bed, my massive form barely contained by the king-size mattress. Even half-asleep, I can feel my cock throbbing, achingly hard and leaking pre-cum onto my abs. Christ, when did I get so damn horny all the time?

As I stretch, my biceps bulge obscenely, pushing against the headboard and leaving dents in the wood. Oops. I chuckle, my voice a low rumble that seems to shake the room. Everything feels so small lately - chairs creak under my weight, doorways seem narrower, and don't even get me started on clothing.

Speaking of which, I swing my tree-trunk legs over the side of the bed, fumbling for the sweatpants I discarded last night. They're comically small now, barely covering my quads and doing nothing to hide my morning wood. Whatever. It's the last day of our trip, and I've given up trying to find clothes that fit.

I lumber towards the bathroom, ducking under the doorframe. The mirror captures my reflection, and goddamn, I can't help but admire myself. Silver-streaked hair tops a ruggedly handsome face, strong jaw dusted with stubble. My shoulders are broader than the doorway, tapering down to a narrow waist and powerful legs. And right in the center, my cock stands proud, easily 12 inches long and thick as a beer can.

"Fuck, Johnson, when did you become such a stud?" I mutter, flexing my pecs. Each one is the size of a watermelon, my nipples puffy and sensitive. I give them a little tweak, groaning at the jolt of pleasure.

A knock at the door interrupts my self-admiration. "Dad? You decent?" It's my son's voice.

I laugh. "Decent? Son, I haven't been decent in days. Come on in if you dare."

The door creaks open, and my boy peeks his head in. Was he always this small? I swear he used to be taller. "Jesus, Dad," he mutters, averting his eyes from my barely-covered crotch.

"What's the matter, boy? Never seen a real man before?" I tease, turning to face him fully. My cock twitches, and I swear I see his eyes widen.

"I, uh, just wanted to let you know breakfast is ready," he stammers. "We're leaving in a couple hours."

I nod, scratching my hairy chest. "I'll be down in a minute. Gotta take care of this morning wood first." I wink at him, enjoying how he squirms.

As he scurries away, I can't help but feel a surge of... something. Pride? Lust? It's hard to tell these days. Everything just feels so damn good.

I make my way downstairs, the steps groaning under my weight. In the kitchen, my son and his boyfriend are already eating. The boyfriend - what was his name again? - looks up at me, his jaw dropping slightly.

"Morning, boys," I rumble, grabbing a chair and carefully lowering myself into it. The wood creaks ominously, but holds. "Pass the eggs, would you?"

As the boyfriend reaches for the plate, I can't help but notice how small his arms look. Weren't they bigger at the start of the trip? And his shirt seems baggy now, hanging off his frame.

"You feeling alright, son?" I ask, concerned. "You're looking a bit... deflated."

He blinks, confused. "I feel fine, Mr. Johnson. Why do you ask?"

I shrug my massive shoulders. "Just looking out for you. Can't have my future son-in-law wasting away, can I?"

My son chokes on his coffee, and I laugh, the sound booming through the kitchen. "What? You think I don't know? Please, boys. I may be old, but I'm not blind."

The boyfriend blushes, and I feel a stirring in my loins. Fuck, he's cute when he's embarrassed. I shift in my seat, trying to adjust my swelling cock without being too obvious.

"So, what's the plan for our last day?" I ask, shoveling eggs into my mouth. I'm always so damn hungry lately.

My son clears his throat. "Well, we thought we might hit the slopes one last time. You up for it, Dad?"

I grin, flexing my arm. The sleeve of my t-shirt - already stretched to its limit - finally gives up and splits along the seam. "You bet your ass I am. Think they make skis big enough for me?"

As we finish breakfast and start getting ready, I can't shake this feeling of... power. It's like I'm more alive than I've ever been. Every movement feels charged with energy, every glance from others filled with awe or lust or both.

In the ski lodge, I can feel all eyes on me as I struggle to find gear that fits. The largest ski jacket barely zips over my chest, and I've given up on finding pants that can contain my thighs and ass.

"Fuck it," I mutter, stripping down to my underwear. "I'll ski in my boxers if I have to."

My son looks mortified, but his boyfriend can't seem to tear his eyes away from my body. I wink at him, enjoying the way he squirms.

As we make our way to the lifts, I notice how people part before me like the Red Sea. Men stare in envy, women (and more than a few men) in naked lust. I breathe deep, the cold air filling my massive lungs, my cock swelling with each admiring glance.

At the top of the run, I look down the slope, feeling invincible. "Race you boys to the bottom," I challenge, my voice a low growl that seems to vibrate through the air.

Before they can respond, I push off, my powerful legs propelling me down the mountain. The wind whips past me, my nearly-naked body impervious to the cold. I hear whoops and cheers as I fly past other skiers, my massive form a blur of muscle and motion.

As I cross the finish line, far ahead of my son and his boyfriend, I roar in triumph. The sound echoes across the valley, and I swear I feel the mountain tremble beneath my feet.

God, it feels good to be a man.

[mochiroreo]

And I will fuck you like nothing matters

Dark!reader x Rafe Cameron

TW: M18+ NON-CON, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, implied heavy smut at the end, degradation, non-consensual use of drugs, mentions of rape and domestic violence, mean!rafe, psycho!dark!reader, non-consensual recording (sorry not sorry rafe lol)

Author’s note: I am back just to post this blurb cause I love dark!Rafe but I also want to read something about the reader being the unhinged, pyscho one 🤭 . Also, this is unedited so if you see some wrong grammar or wrong spelling.. no you didn’t.

“Hmm..” a dull, throbbing pain made him tightly closed his eyes. His body feeling heavy and sluggish. He felt like he slept in a wrong position for two days, with how his muscles are aching. He was about to stretch and move his arms when he felt a tug that restricted his movements.

“Wait.. wha—?” The sensation made Rafe open his eyes, his baby blues scanning the room in utter confusion. He squinted as his eyes adjusted to the low light, looking up at his wrists tied together above him, and his legs tied to the bed frame. “What the fuck..?” He mumbled in a slurred manner, his baby blues darting around the room before feeling the bed dipped beside him.

“Oh, you’re awake!”

Rafe immediately looked up, his breath slightly hitching with how close your face is.

“A-angel?” He whispered his nickname for you, confusion more evident on his face now with his brows scrunched up. “How— why—“ Rafe’s questions were cut off by your giggle, airy and as if the whole situation is amusing, making his jaw tick in irritation.

For him, maybe it’s not as amusing. For you, however, it is definitely the highlight of your life.

“What are you doing? You think this is funny?” He asked, voice low and threatening, as if he is not the one tied down tightly on your bed right now. You just looked at him with a soft smile, a soft hand landing on his forehead to smooth the creases between his eyebrows before affectionately running your hand through his buzzed hair.

“Oh no, Rafey. I just think this suits you..” you words hanged onto the air, making him anticipate what’s next. “After all, isn’t this what you had planned for me? I just switched up who will be the victim.” You answered, ignoring the slight widening of his eyes with your answer.

His heart was thumping loudly inside his chest now, feeling the rope’s roughness that bound both his wrists and ankles. “W-what? I don’t— I don’t fucking know what you’re talking about.” Rafe looked straight into your eyes, trying to convince you. Yet your smile sent a chill down his spine.

“What do you mean? I know your plan silly!” You giggled, biting your bottom lip which made the boy gulp. “I am very much aware of the Kook king’s personal life and the rumours surrounding you, you know. The rape allegations at the parties after slipping some drugs on their drinks. Or maybe asking them to drink a bit too much. I have also heard how much you have punched and kicked your previous girlfriends.. lucky that your daddy knows how to bail you out!”

Your eyes travelled down Rafe’s disheveled state, the buttons of his white shirt undone, revealing a slither of tan skin underneath. His taut muscles evident as he squirms to move. While you were distracted, Rafe tried to free himself, struggling as the rope got tighter and tighter the more he tried to escape.

“Where was I? Oh! And so— I have heard from Topper how it’s now my “time” apparently. Then there you were! In front of my house, asking me to drink with you cause you were feeling lonely. I knew you slipped a drug on my drink,, so I have beat you to it and knocked you out.” You admitted with a shrug, moving away to stand up while still watching Rafe closely.

“You’re fucking crazy. I-I didn’t even— wasn’t planning to do anything!” Rafe tried to reason out, gritting his teeth when the rope wouldn’t budge.

“Really? Cause the rope that I used was from the back of your truck. I even found some little baggies.” You inserted your hand inside your bra, the action making Rafe stare straight to your chest and take in what you are wearing.

You wore white lacy set of lingerie, hugging the swell of your breasts and thighs, accentuating every dips and curves as if you were carves by the gods to look like a literal angel on earth.

Except, you are holding every variety of drugs that Rafe owns with a big smile.

Each bag has some different sized pills and powders, which you were sure were party drugs and coke from his drug dealer best friend, Barry.

“Now come on, Angel. Don’t you know that you shouldn’t touch what’s not yours? You don’t even know shit about drugs or-or how expensive those are!” He groaned, unable to do anything. Rafe is at his limit, his patience running thin as he think of the things he will do once he breaks free from the ropes, promising to himself that he will definitely fuck you to the point that you’ll beg him to stop plowing your abused cunt. Your appearance and his imagination making his thick cock hard despite his anger.

“Hmm.. I know which drugs is which. I think I stalked you enough to know which one is your favourite other than coke.” Moving closer, you brushed your hair away from your face. “And to be honest. I thought you would have more.” You grabbed a bottle of water on the bedside table before straddling Rafe’s chest.

The action made Rafe’s shorts tighter with how painfully hard he is, his point of view accentuating your breasts, seeing your nipples perky from the cold air inside the room. Once again, he struggled with the intention of trying to free himself to grab you and slap the shit out of you while drilling his cock to your wet pussy, he gritted his teeth and whispered menacingly.

“Now now, Angel. We can do this without the rope.. you know? If I have known you were a little freaky.. I would have asked you properly instead of what I was planning to do.” His words made chuckle, raking your manicured nails on his chest, making him let out a low groan.

“But where’s the fun in that?! Besides it would be unfair to just let you do that.. knowing how much you’ve been a bad boy here in Outer banks..” leaning forward, you balanced yourself and gripped his arms, slightly rutting your clothed core on his stomach. The action made Rafe groan, his anger disappearing as he thinks that you are just a closeted little freak that is now removing your disguise to fuck him. Rafe’s hips were bucking slightly, loving the hazy look in your eyes as he lets you to revel on the power you have over him right now.

“This is exciting, but I want to make it wayyy more pleasurable for us two.” Dragging your tongue on his collarbone, you moved away to grab one of the baggies containing some neon pink and green pills making Rafe eye you suspiciouslly. As far as he remember, he did not order some odd looking pills from Barry.

Grinning at him like the devil, you took two from the bag before going back to your position, your left hand tracing the bottom of his lips as you bite your own. Rafe’s lips parted, his pink tongue slightly peeking, urging you to lean down and finally kiss him.

The kiss was hot and messy, and Rafe kissed you like a man starved. His tongue immediately invading your mouth, savouring the slight dominance that he has knowing that he cannot escape your bed to flip you over. Rafe was so into the kiss that he did not feel both of your hands wrap around his neck.

Your hands were getting tighter and tighter, making him pull back with wide eyes that is staring right straight to your in panic.

“A-angel— hey hey..!” He tried to fully scream at you, nails slowly digging into the flesh of his neck. Rafe was slowly running out of air, his vision swimming in the dark while looking at you smiling so gently to him as if you aren’t choking him to death right now. His lips parted in a silent scream, before you let go to forcefully shove the pills down his throat which almost made him puke.

You let go once the pills were stuck down his throat, Rafe immediately heaving and gasping for air, making the pills slide down with his spit. He didn’t waste any time to steady his breathing, immediately screaming at your face.

“ARE YOU FUCKING CRAZY?! YOU STUPID FUCKING BITCH, I WILL FUCKING RIP YOUR HEAD OFF AND YOUR FUCKING PUSSY IF I GET OUT OF HERE! I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU!” His neck was red, veins popping out from him screaming directly on your face. You faked a sniffle, eyes slightly watering before you broke into a laugh.

“Woah calm down, pretty boy!” You managed to squeeze out as you continue to laugh, making Rafe jolt with the want to punch you down and force himself on you. “I just want to make sure you drink the pill candy without a fight.” You stated, offering a water bottle pointed at his lips. His breathing was erratic with anger, nudging the bottle away from his face before it dawned on him.

“Fuck—“ he mumbled. “What the fuck are those pills?!” You just shrugged, shaking your head as you so. “I have enough of your bitchy brat games, you fucking psycho! What the fuck are those pills!” Wiping down the spit that landed on your chest, you sighed giving him a faux pout.

“It’s just something to relax you.. and maybe give you more strength as I use you the whole night?” As if on cue, his cock that went soft with the stunt that you pulled suddenly hardened, blood immediately rushing down south. Rafe’s body slowly started to feel hot, he feels so lightheaded that his eyelids were almost closing on him while he tries not to pant and control his breathing. “Shit shit shit” he mumbled in panic, mind swimming with all the possibilities what the pill might be and what it might do to him.

You cut his thoughts short when you swiftly undressed him, his eyes wide and watery as you blow air on his clothed cock that was immediately weeping before letting it spring free. You thumbed the continuous flow of his pre-cum, making him buck his hips for more. Your touch was cold on his burning skin, a soft whine passing by his lips when you gave his leaking tip one kitten lick.

“Fuck please— what— what did you do to me..?” Rafe whispered softly, slowly losing his mind with the need and desire to feel your mouth, cunt, or your ass on his dick that is now standing proudly against his stomach.

“Nothing really. I told you I’ll make sure to make this more pleasurable for us, didn’t I? Must have been frustrating to be on the receiving end, huh?” Straddling his waist, you move your lacy panties aside to rut it on his cock, his pre-cum making it slide easier on your sopping wet pussy. You continued your actions, ignoring Rafe’s please to let him put his cock in you.

“You know.. I’ve heard how much you wanted me.. how much you think you can ruin me, to manipulate me into your ‘slut’. But I don’t want to be one of those girls that you took advantage of, Rafey. I want to be special, I want something more.” Your body was slowly getting covered with a light sheen of sweat, lips so close besides Rafe’s ear as you lick and tease his ear lobe. Soft whines and gasps escaping your lips before smirking as Rafe tried his best to listen to you despite him slowly losing his mind.

“So I decided to just show you, decided that maybe I’m the one that can break you..” Rafe lets out a deep strangled cry as he cums, body vibrating with the intensity of his ejaculation while he shut his eyes close. “Oh my, you just cummed but you’re still hard, Rafey!” Your statement made Rafe open his eyes weakly, vision slightly blurry with unshed tears, his cock more sensitive that ever.

Your left hand encircled his thick shaft, slowly dragging your palm up and down, making Rafe choked out a sob “‘s too much— please— fuck— ‘s too much” Rafe rambled, making you stop playing with his cock; giving him soft kisses on his cheeks, kissing his tears away. “Oh shush, don’t cry Rafey. I will make you feel good, make you feel so so good.” You whispered against his flushed skin, licking the lone tear that slid down while you console him.

You grabbed the water bottle and popped a pill on your tongue, Rafe watching you with blown out, unfocused eyes. “See? I took one as well!” You stated, slowly getting rid of your lingerie which made Rafe’s cock bob up and down, pre-cum once again leaking out of him despite coming just seconds ago.

“Gonna show you how special I can be, Rafey.” Whispering on his skin while you trail wet kissed down his chest, Rafe sobbed when you lightly bit his nipple, the action making him cum once again. You felt his warm load spatter on your ass, making you giggle.

“ ‘m gonna show you how I can make you feel like a god.” You eyed his drowsy state, drool sloppily pooling on the side of his mouth. Lightly tapping his cheeks, he opened his eyes before you pointed at the red dot on the corner of your room, which he eyed for a moment.

“Don’t forget to smile.”

[withwritersblock]

This is Home-Daddy/Daughter Dance

~This is Home by Bryan Lanning~

Author's Note: a new series I'm trying Summary: Nate takes Ava to a daddy/daughter dance Warnings: none! Word Count: 1,688 Nathan Mackinnon x fm!reader

Tonight was a huge night for Nate. Not because it was a division rivalry, not because it was a playoff game, and not because it was the Stanley Cup finals. It was his first ever daddy, daughter dance. 

His daughter hasn’t stopped talking about the dance since she found out about it. Nate was so happy to find out that he didn’t have a game and he was home. There was a lot of milestones that he has missed from hockey but this one, he wasn’t going to miss.

He stood in the bathroom, leaning towards the mirror, shaving the subtle off of his face. Soft music was playing in the background. He was nervous, which he had no reason to be. The only person he needed to impress was his daughter. Ava did not need much from Nate to be impressed, she loved him with every fiber of her being. But Nate wanted everything to be perfect. 

Y/N peaked her head around the bathroom door, smiling towards Nate. He met her gaze through the mirror. “Hey honey,” he mumbled as he smiled towards her. He leaned down and washed his face before he dapped it off with a towel.

“How’s my girl?” he let out as he took small steps towards her. She tilted her head to the side.

“Very impatient waiting for you to be ready,” she let out, a small smile on her lips. He chuckled as he tilted his head back.

“We don’t have to leave for another hour,” Nate let out while he reached his hands towards her. She happily stepped into his grasp. He loosely wrapped his arms around her waist.

“She’s got your patience,” she teased as she rested her hands on the base of his neck. He rolled his eyes playfully as he ran his hands up her shirt to rest his hands onto the small of her back.

He hummed before he leaned towards her, kissing her softly. “You tell my baby, I’ll be ready in thirty minutes,” he whispered against her lips. She hummed as she slowly slipped away from his grasp. “Unless, you want to uh-assist me in the shower?” he mumbled as he pointed towards the glass shower behind him.

“Nathan!” she scolded as she laughed nervously. He barked out a laugh as he slipped his sweatpants from his body as he wandered towards the shower. 

“You’re loss, my love,” he shouted as he turned on the shower. 

Y/N rolled her eyes as she continued out of the bathroom towards her daughter’s bedroom. She was sitting on the bed swinging her tiny legs back and forth as she was watching The Lion King. Her body straightened as her eyes widened. 

“Not yet my love, he’s still getting ready,” Y/N whispered. Ava groaned as she fell onto her back, not caring if her curls were flatten. No little girl cares about those things. “Have you thought about your dance moves?” she tried to distract her. She slowly sat up and met Y/N’s gaze. Ava shook her head. “Well, let’s see it beauty,” Y/N said as she reached for her tiny hand.

Avs climbed off of the bed and kept her hand in Y/N’s. Y/N pulled her phone from her pocket and played the first song that she saw in her playlist. It was an upbeat pop song. She placed it back into her pocket. They began to shimmy and dance along to the music. 

“Those are some great moves, baby,” she told Ava as she sat back down on the bed to continue watching the movie.

“I know,” she let out confidently. Y/N giggled as she sat on the floor in front of Ava, watching the movie with her.

After fifteen minutes Nate called for Y/N. Ava jumped off the bed excitedly, “Hold on, Ava girl,” Y/N muttered as she walked out of the bedroom towards her own. Nate was standing in their bedroom adjusting the suit jacket on his frame. 

She has seen Nate in a suit more times than without one but every single time she feels faint. He spun around, meeting her gaze, his arms dropping to the side. “Am I over dressed?” he asked quietly. She shook her head instantly, “I’m gonna call Gabe, see what he’s wearing,”

“Nate,” she reached her hands over, resting them onto his arms. His eyes softened as he met her gaze, “You look great, I’m sure Gabe is dressed the same,” she offered. He took in a deep breath as he nodded. “Are you nervous?” she asked, trying not to laugh. He smacked his lips together as a grin started forming. “Nate, it’s a daddy daughter dance,”

“Our daughter’s opinion of me matters a lot,” he whined.

“You know she adores you,” she tried to reassure him.

“But this is a big deal for her,” Nate muttered out as he rested his hands onto the small of her back.

She rested her hands on the base of his neck, “You won a Stanley Cup without being nervous for a second but this-this two hour dance is making you nervous,” she let out while giggling.

“Winning that Stanley Cup is the reason I am going to this dance, so I think it goes hand and hand,” he let out teasingly. She rolled her eyes playfully as she leaned towards him, pressing her lips against his delicately. “Alright, where’s my little girl?” he let out as he slowly slipped away from her grasp.

Y/N walked ahead of Nate towards Ava’s bedroom, she was sitting on the bed watching the screen. “Are you ready, Ava girl?” 

She gasped as she climbed off of the bed, adjusting the burgendy colored dress as she jogged excitedly out of the bedroom towards the living room. Nate was standing in the center of the living room, holding a tiny necklace with the letter M on it. She stopped short as Nate spun around to look towards her. Ava smiled widely. Nate’s lips began to quiver, she’s always been perfect. His little girl, his daughter.

“Look how beautiful you are,” Nate let out as he kneeled down. She excitedly ran towards him, wrapping her arms around his neck. He stood up, holding her up. 

“It’s bur-ge-ndy! Like the Avs!” she struggled to say the word, but it was close enough. Nate lips fell into a pout as he looked into his daughter’s eyes. 

“I love it!” he let out as he brought the necklace up, he let it dangle to show it to her.

“For me?” she let out excitedly, but shyly. 

“Of course,” Nate muttered as he delicately sat her down on the top of the couch. “Hold your hair up, baby,” Nate expressed as he imitated holding hair up. She nodded and followed his actions. Nate slowly wrapped the necklace around her neck and buckled it.  “How do you like it?” Nate asked. Ava looked down towards the Necklace and nodded excitedly.

“Thank you,” she let out.

“Okay, okay. Let me take your photo before you guys head out,” Y/N offered. Nate excitedly picked Ava up again and rested her onto his hip. 

“Smile,” Nate sing-songed. Ava smiled widely, leaning her head against Nate’s head. She was smiling so hard, her eyes were squinted nearly shut. Nate smiled as he held Ava tightly towards him. 

“Okay, you two. Go have a great night,” she ushered them towards the door.

“We will,” Nate sing-songed as he shoved his keys into his pocket before he walked towards Y/N. He leaned towards her, quickly pecking her lips before he walked towards the front door.

“Alright Ava girl, are you ready to see Linnea and Uncle Gabe?” Nate asked as they walked out of the house together. He delicately placed her on the ground, allowing her to run towards the car. 

“Yes, yes, yes!” she shouted as she jogged towards the car, she waited outside the backseat door, hopping excitedly.

~~~

The daddy daughter dance was almost over. Ava and Linnea were both nearly asleep by the end of it. There was only one more dance left in the night. Ava was resting her head onto Nate’s shoulder, she wasn’t asleep but she was happy being in his arms like this. Her arms were tightly around his neck. Nate was swaying back and forth to the country song that was playing in the background. 

He met Gabe’s eyes, he spun around, forcing Nate to look towards Linnea. “She asleep?” Gabe asked as he spun back around to meet Nate’s gaze. 

“She is or she’s about to be,” Nate let out, a chuckle falling from his lips. Gabe rolled his eyes playfully as he ran his hand up and down his daughter’s back.

“Ava asleep?” Gabe asked. Ava lifted her head and shook her head, a tight lip grin on her lips. She smiled towards Gabe and Nate before she rested her head back onto Nate’s shoulder. Nate chuckled as he glanced towards all of the other dad’s carrying their little girls.

“We better make this event every year until it’s not cool for them,” Nate expressed as he looked towards Gabe.

Gabe chuckled, “We better be home every year,” 

“Right,” Nate chuckled, “Are you ready to go home, baby girl?” Nate whispered into Ava’s ear. She lifted her head and nodded, a huge yawn leaving her lips. 

Gabe nodded, “I’m going to get her home, hopefully she’ll stay asleep,” Gabe expressed, waving towards the pair. 

“Say bye to Uncle Gabe,” Nate whispered towards Ava.

“Bye Uncle Gabe,” she let out softly before she tapped her hands against Nate’s shoulder. “Can we do this again?” she asked Nate quietly. Nate smiled towards her, taking a hold of his keys and phone. He shoved them both into his pockets, one after another.

“We’ll do something like this every year, I’ll promise you that, baby girl,” Nate said as they started walking out of the small banquet building. 

“Pinky promise?” she asked holding out her hand. Nate smiled widely as he happily pinky promised her. “Best night ever,”

[oceantornadoo]

mad max: the 141 (price x f!reader)

ch 2: your first night

canon-typical violence, sexual violence is referenced (but will not happen), general misogyny. the 141 are the good guys, just a bit rough around the edges

series masterlist (also has more world building info)

--

you reminded john of rabbits, creatures he'd heard about from campfire stories. your dress, like their fur, white as limestone. you were jumpy and small, fast as the devil. he could feel your legs tense against his, had felt it for the past three hours of the bike ride. ready to hop off and run, to take your chances in the sand and storm of the wasteland. he didn't blame you.

dusk had fallen as the 141 approached their home base. you were already jumping off his bike when he slowed down, eager to put space between the two of you. smart girl. john price did not consider himself a good man, even though he had met men much worse, men who were not man at all. sometimes, he felt that same instinct lurking underneath him, just out of reach.

base was just a small outcropping of rocks. this couldn't be right. suddenly, gaz had disappeared from your view. then, silent as his name, ghost did as well. your eyes finally adjusted to the quick coming darkness and you took in the sight before you. a hole in the ground, covered with a metal frame. a door to the underground. they had hidden their bikes behind the rocks, the shadows playing tricks on your mind. any traveler would pass this place without a second thought. the captain (you still didn't know his name) hid his bike in a similar matter, then gestured to the hole. "down you go." like alice in wonderland, you thought, images of your precious century-old books coming to mind. you jumped.

gaz caught you gracefully. you murmured your thanks, still unused to having male hands touch you so easily. you were no longer a shiny piece of metal on the shelf, you had been taken down for play. in any sense of the word.

electric lighting flickered around the cavern. there were several tunnels leading into the distance, further underground. you stood in a common area, the group's supplies scattered throughout the room. it was lived in but clean, a rarity in a world like yours. the air smelled the opposite of dryness, almost like-

"water?" the captain was offering you drinking water from a canteen. you looked up at him in confusion. "real water?" ghost grunted an affirmation from somewhere in the vicinity, but you were too busy locking eyes at the captain to get specifics. his eyes were so focused on you, so unaware of the kindness of his gesture. was he prepping you for a future as his wife? that must be it. must be why he was so concerned about your period. either way, you were dehydrated from the long drive and took the canteen greedily, slurping at the water. unprincesslike behavior, not fit for a wife, but you didn't care. he'd get what he paid for.

"how do you have water?" your voice croaked slightly from disuse, the water smoothing out the cracks in your throat. "springs. down one of the tunnels. s' why it smells damp. s' our little secret, yeah?" you gaped at gaz's response. with access to a hot spring, they could be kings. they could have a hundred wives each, slaves in the thousands, become kings of the springs in their own right. yet they made small attacks of shipping trades and deals for princesses of gastown? you didn't understand. they seemed to lack the innate violence you thought was required of human nature, of the existence of man.

"long day, yeah? let's regroup tomorrow." the captain led you down the tunnel as you quickly said goodnight to the other outlaws. despite your propensity to save water, your palms grew sweaty. this was when it happened. this was when he'd take you to bed and make you a wife. or at least someone to get mother's milk from. you hoped he'd be somewhat gentle, hoped the other's wouldn't hear your screams. you were so lost in your thoughts you didn't notice the captain had stopped, directing you to a bedroll.

"would you be gentle, please? if i can ask? i won't ask for anything else." your voice sounded tinny in the room, as if another had asked it. the only sound was the echo of the far off spring. the captain paused his state of undress, clothed in only his underwear. you averted your eyes, quelling any attraction that bubbled up in your belly. you were a virgin, had been groomed to be one, but you had had other experiences with some men in gastown. you knew the electricity of attraction, the zing of the moment. you reminded yourself that the captain was your owner, not your lover, and that quickly ended any other feelings.

"gentle, love? what d'ya mean?" he was sprawled on the bedroll, all muscle and fat and hair. his body corded with the results of labor, hidden under a layer of fat that showed his status. you shrugged back your shoulders, reminding yourself you were a princess. "when you bed me." he let out a bark of laughter, turning you shy. were you too proper? you didn't like the other words men used, your stepfather used, when they talked about the act. they felt dirty on your tongue, like spending a night in the desert sand. "'m not gonna fuck you, love." fuck. he said it almost lovingly, like he revered it. tongue tracing the vowels like he'd traced your stomach earlier.

"then...the belt? you bought me?" he patted the bed roll and you finally laid down next to him, less afraid of him now. "'s all politics, sweetheart. i don't fuck people who don't want me inside them. if you ask me, i'll fuck you good. but only then." people. as in not just women. not unheard of, but never blatantly referenced. you wondered about the other outlaws, images of them undressed and sweaty under the captain coming to mind. with the casualness in their interactions, you weren't surprised. some part of your brain, a part you had thought was long gone when you had been sold, conjured another image. being shared. just like that you shivered in the cold dampness, and it was gone.

"body heat. come on." you finally laid against him, back touching his bare chest. he covered you with the threadbare blanket, slinging his arm around your waist and the other under your head. like a personal pillow. the thought was so insane you almost giggled, and he relaxed at the feel of your body calming. his rabbit was finally less jittery, ready for bed. his paw spread against your stomach, callouses brushing against soft skin. he reveled in the feel of your stomach, not concave like most in the wasteland. his pampered princess, cuddled against one of the most feared outlaws in the land. you covered his hand with your own, brushing against the hair there. he nuzzled your neck, memorizing your scent. the sound of it sent a bolt of arousal straight to your core, but you ignored it.

"goodnight, captain." no wonder you were so scared of him. he hadn't told you his name. "s' john, love." your throat hitched. john. "goodnight, john." he hummed against your skin, his own personal goodnight back.

you fell into a dreamless sleep, the events of the day washing in and out. until the atmosphere changed, the feeling of being watched waking you up. you felt john adjust behind you, the feeling of his body draped around you. you could even feel his cock lay heavy against your ass, resting. your eyes blinked open through the darkness of the cave, searching. and you found it in the man sitting a few feet away, cloaked behind a red mask in the shape of a skull, mohawk standing straight.

you screamed.

--

i don't usually write virgin readers but i felt like it made sense for this world. going to try to make it a small deal so every kind of reader can relate. shorter chapter, hoped yall enjoyed!