#king single sofa bed

[hrsports1]

Sofa chairs are a popular and versatile seating option for many homes. They come in a wide variety of styles, materials, and sizes, making it easy to find one that fits your needs and complements your decor.

[tranceindia123]

All you need to buy drapes that create magic

Homes' windows and portals provide a captivating view of busy cityscapes or picturesque landscapes. However, until they are curtained, those portals only reveal half the story. At Trance Home Linen, we believe in the transformative power of window treatments, and within that realm, matchy-matchy reigns supreme. Coordinated curtains throughout the house create a cohesive aesthetic tapestry, weaving a symphony of light, comfort, and refined elegance that is far from a monotonous choice. Chasing the matchy-matchy approach maintains visual uniformity. It can be something of a curated approach ode to having an eye for detail. The image of a room living in warm sunshine-filtered warmth sifting through linen floor-to-ceiling curtains that happen to echo the upholstery neutral tones of the furniture. There is indeed beauty in curtains and their versatility. For the bedroom sanctuary, it does not get any better than Duck cotton printed curtains (100% cotton) billowing past a plush bed, spotless drape mimicked by the crisp sheets of high-thread-count quality. Cotton fitted bedsheet with pillow covers (white self-satin stripes 400 TC & 100% cotton )

[royaloak-furniture]

What are the benefits of a single bed with a memory foam mattress compared to other types?

A single bed with a memory foam mattress has a number of advantages over other types of mattresses.

To begin, memory foam mattresses conform to your body's shape, providing excellent support and pressure reduction. This reduces discomfort and encourages good spinal alignment, resulting in more peaceful sleep.

Memory foam mattresses are also recognized for their motion isolation capabilities, which means they absorb movement instead of spreading it across the bed. This is especially useful for people who share a bed, as it reduces noise caused by tossing and turning.

In addition, memory foam mattresses are hypoallergenic and resistant to dust mites, mold, and other allergens, making them perfect for allergy sufferers.

Finally, memory foam mattresses tend to last longer than standard mattresses since they are less prone to sagging and wear over time.

To summarize, choosing a single bed with a memory foam mattress provides improved comfort, support, and durability for a refreshing sleep experience.

Our online furniture store, Royaloak, offers a large selection of high-quality memory foam mattresses and single beds.

[williamadam10]

Innovative Furniture Designs for Small Bedrooms

Limited sized bedrooms sometimes call for inventive and imaginative ways to maximise every square inch in the era of limited living spaces. Modern furniture makers and designers are rising to the occasion by creating inventive and distinctive furniture designs that not only stow up neatly in compact bedrooms but also enhance their visual appeal. This article examines several very original and practical furniture layouts that are ideal for little bedrooms.

Divan Bed: Conventional Space-Saving Option:

The built-in storage facilities of divan beds are one of its main benefits. Many divan beds include drawers or other storage areas built into the base, which is a convenient way to store extra blankets, clothing, or other personal belongings without taking up more room in the room. This helps make the most of the space that is available and is especially advantageous for bedrooms that have a little amount of floor space.

Verona Sofa Corner: Stylish and Durable: 

The Verona Fabric Sofa Set is more than simply a piece of furniture; it is a symbol of convenience, refinement, and versatility. You may add a touch of refinement to your living area and appreciate the luxury of unbeatable relaxation. The Verona sofa set transforms your house into the centre of activity—a place where memories are built, discussions flow, and comfort knows no bounds—thanks to its luxurious comfort, classic style, and durability.

High Gloss Wardrobe: Enhancing Style

A high gloss wardrobe offers graceful functionality for your home furniture while also enhancing its aesthetic appeal, making it a more enjoyable place to spend time each day. With a high gloss wardrobe, discover the ideal compromise between style and practicality. Here, modern design meets useful storage options.

Storage Capacity: Ottoman Storage Beds

A versatile and stylish option that turns your bedroom into a haven of comfort and order, an ottoman storage bed offers the ideal union of design and organisation. For a genuinely elegant sleeping environment, bring this ottoman bed which will help you enhance your space capacity as well.

Florence Sofa Set:

The florence Sofa Set is an opportunity to discover an ideal combination of comfort, design, and functionality rather than just an item of furniture. This couch set creates the perfect atmosphere for unforgettable moments in the centre of your house, whether you're relaxing after a hard day or entertaining guests for a special event. With the florence Sofa Set, you may enhance your living area and enjoy the art of luxurious relaxation.

Conclusion:

Innovative furniture ideas for small bedrooms are thrillingly becoming a reality as the world embraces the idea of living sensibly within constrained areas. These innovative interior designs, which range from vertical beds that create an oasis in the air to convertible walls that conceal a variety of functionality, not only overcome the problems associated with limited space but also give your bedroom a feeling of wonder and flair. With the help of these creative designs, embrace the revolution of small-space living and make your tiny bedroom a refuge of creativity and comfort.

[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

Stay with me || D. Targaryen x Hightower!reader

GIF by @beaconofthehightower DIVIDERS by @straywords

summary: In which you have been forced into marriage with the Rogue Prince by the King. However, it has been well over a year and the two of you yet to see eye to eye, mostly because of Daemon's dislike towards your father. When you find out that you're expecting, things seem to take a drastic turn.

a/n: no way this was sitting in my drafts since i first opened this acc end of last year🥹

“The bath is ready for you, my Lady.” The handmaiden bowed at your direction as you finish taking off your jewellery. “Thank you, you may go,” You bid her off, “But my Lady-“ She protested, “I am quite capable of bathing myself, thank you.” Meeting the maidens eyes through the mirror, you didn’t mean to sound rude and snap at the poor women—your pent up emotions needed releasing, hence why you called for a bath.

Without uttering another word, you watch as she closes the door with a loud thud. Throwing your necklace across the room to release the built up tension, you inhale deeply whilst leaning your hand against the bed post. Tears threatening to escape, you look up towards the ceiling so that they would not fall.

Finding out that you were with child was a rollercoaster of emotions. You were saddened at the thought of bringing a child into this cruel word. How could you try to make your child’s life happy when both of his/her parents were not with each other?

You thought that you could some how find times in your marriage that you would be happy, but you didn’t, the past 12 months were a nightmare. You barely got to see Daemon, and when you did, he’d be drunk and fall asleep without saying a word to you.

And the whispers and talks of people seeing him visit brothels in silk street were unbearable. You tried ignoring the best you could, but how could you when people didn’t even put any effort into quietening down when walking past you?

Brushing your lingering thoughts away, you walk to the bath that was bearably hot. Removing your thin night gown and letting it pile in a corner, you couldn’t help but stare at your still-flat stomach in the mirror. The thought of a babe growing inside was both amazing and terrifying.

Slipping your body in, a sigh leaves your mouth at the sensation of the hot water against your skin. After nearly 30 minutes, the door to your chambers opened.

There was only ever one person to open that door without bothering to knock, and that was your Husband. Eyes closed, you heard his footsteps until it came to a halt, slowly opening your eyes and sitting up, you turn your head to find Daemon watching you from outside the door that led to the bathroom.

“Husband.” You greeted turning your head back and closing them once again. “Wife.” He replied, taking off his clothes and changing. You were surprised he did not sound drunk like he usually did most nights. The two of you not uttering a single word until you got out of the bath.

You flinch once you realised Daemon was sat on a one of the sofas that faced your bath tub, not that the two of you were foreign to seeing each other naked. After drying up, you slip your night gown on once again before making your way to your dresser.

“Ao nektogon aōha ōghar, nyke ūndegon” His voice made you pause your actions, looking at his sat figure through the mirror. “2 two months ago Daemon.” You reply annoyed as you brush through your hair. “But you would know if you saw me more often.” Muttering under your breath, Daemon replied, “ȳdragon plainly.”(You cut your hair, I see) (Speak plainly)

Closing you eyes and taking a sharp inhale, you turn your body towards him, a cup with what you presume was alcohol in his hand. “What I mean, husband, is if you were here more often instead of spending your nights at the brothel, that you would notice the little things!” Your voice escalates in volume. Daemon throws his head back with a loud sigh. “Are we really doing this?”

“Where do your loyalties reside, husband? It is most certainly not with me! Whom you swore under the seven Gods that you would be there for me!” You were now standing up as you watch Daemon with an unreadable face.

“Ivestragon mirros!”You yell, “Skoro syt issi ao sir mentioning bisa?” He calmly asked. With furrowed eyebrows, you study his face, his gaze set to candles on the table. “Skoros?”(Say something) (Why are you now mentioning this) (What)

“Don’t act stupid y/n,” He scoffed, finally meeting your eyes, “Emi issare married syt mirri jēda, sir ao decide naejot elēni aōha concerns?” (We have been married for some time, now you decide to voice your concerns)

“Ivestragon nyke, skoro syt?” His deep voice questioned. Searching his eyes, and opening your mouth, no words seemed to come out. (Tell me, why)

“Cat got your tongue, my love?” Daemon smirked as you gulped, tears slowly but surely welling up. You found yourself pathetic, truth being the fact that you couldn’t even tell your own husband you were carrying his child.

Without saying another word, you turned around, blowed out all the candles except for the ones beside Daemon’s side of the bed, and slipped under the covers of your bed.

A loud sigh leaves the Prince’s mouth. Deep down, you wanted him to come to bed and engulf you in a hug. Instead, you hear the sound of the doors opening and closing, he left. You cried yourself to sleep that night.

~

Waking up to a cold and empty bed, you felt it slowly but surely making its way up your throat as you place the back of your hand to your mouth. Luckily, Eva, your closest handmaiden, had walked in just in time as you puked into the bucket.

“Perhaps having breakfast will be good for you, my Lady” She kindly smiles at you as you look up at her with a disgusted face at the thought of food at that moment. “I think not” You grumbled before getting up and getting ready.

“Has my husband returned yet?” Your eyes meet with the handmaidens’ through the mirror as you put earrings on. “No, my Lady” She looks down. “Should I even tell him?” You contemplate, fidgeting with your rings.

Before you could get a response, a loud knock comes from your door as you give a confused look to Eva as she quickly opens the door. “My lady, it’s your father.” She calls out before curtsying and leaving the room.

“Father,” You kiss his cheek to greet him. “I think it is best you go to the throne room now” He gives you a blank look. An awkward chuckle leaves your lips, “But why? What’s happening?” Concern spread through your body as Otto doesn’t say anything.

You quickly brush past him and make a beeline to the throne room. Upon entering, you were stopped by a kingsguard. “Who is in there” You question. “I cannot tell you that Lady-“ “I’m only going to ask you once, brother, who is in there?” You send daggers to your younger brother’s way.

“His Grace, Daemon, and-“ Before he could finish his sentence, you push past him and open the door. There sat Viserys on the iron throne with Daemon standing e of him, his back to you. What perplexed you even more was the women on her knees beside Daemon. A handmaiden to be precise. Viserys gives you a pitiful look, It was only when both Daemon and the handmaiden look back to you when you realise.

“I-“ You couldn’t even properly speak as you choked back tears. You felt like screaming at that moment. “Y/n-“ You didn’t even let Daemon utter another word before you closed the door—Gwayne giving you a concerned look—and sped off back to your room.

“Pack my things. I am leaving” You order your handmaidens as tears continuously roll down your cheeks. You were shaking, you felt like you were suffocating. “Are you all right my lady?” Eva places ger hand on your shoulder as you breathe heavily. “I-I need to get out of this dress- a-and breathe for gods sake!” You shout angrily as hands were already untying your dress.

You had about enough of Daemon’s behaviour. You needed to leave. After being dressed in something more comfortable, the doors open as your father walks in. “I assume you’re going back to Old town?” Your father places his hands behind his back as he watches you gather your jewelry.

“I am. If you expect me to stay here any longer with that-that horrid man then-“ “I don’t expect you to, daughter. He was caught in bed with her this morning. I assure you, that handmaiden will get what she deserves. Sleeping with her Lady’s husband, what was she thinking” Otto scoffs as tears blur your eyes.

“Have you even told him yet?” His question catches you off-guard. “No. After what I just found out I don’t think I will. He can find out later on after I’ve left” You say through greeted teeth as the last of your things were packed up.

“The carriage is already out there waiting for you, my Lady” Eva mentions as you nod at her. “Goodbye father, I hope you do come visit” You sadly smile before embracing him in a hug, his hands caressing your hair before you pull back and walk off.

It was pouring outside. You held your skirt up so it wouldn’t get dirty. “Y/n!” His voice booms over the rain as you pause. You quicken your pace but before you could even fully step into the carriage, a rough hand pulls you back.

Before you know it, your hand makes contact with his cheek with a loud slap. The few handmaidens gasp before they look down. He rolls his tongue against his cheek before chuckling, “I deserve that, don’t I?” “Oh you deserve so much worse Daemon.” You darkly chuckle at the man.

“I can’t believed you stooped that low- and with one of my handmaidens? How pathetic can you get, Husband. I have done nothing but been patient with you every day but this? That was the final straw. I’m leaving and you cannot stop me” You say the last bit through greeted teeth. “Were you going to tell me?”

You stop dead in your tracks. You breathe out from your nose, “Tell you what exactly?” Your head turns to him. “That you’re carrying my child. Was I ever going to find out? Or was I going to when I’m on my deathbed.” He shouts angrily as you keep your composure.

“And bring him up with a father who can’t even keep his loyalties to his wife? You’re delusional, truly.” A loud scoff emits your mouth. Not a second later, Daemon drops to his knees infront of you. People around whispering to each other at the sight of the Rogue Prince on his knees to his wife. You gulp as he looked so vulnerable. He looks up to you as he takes ahold of your hands. “Stay with me. Please. That is all I ask of you y/n” He pleads.

“Stay with you? I have stayed with you every day Daemon while you fucked your way through the brothels. I’ve had enough of hoping that you would finally see me as your wife!” Tears were once again pouring down your cheeks as you sniffle. “I can’t stay with you.” Your voice cracks before you pull away from Daemon’s touch and enter the carriage without looking back.

The carriage starts to move as you start sobbing harder. Daemon was still there kneeling as he watched his wife leave. He watched his entire future leave.

[cherryclitgirl]

The Gods

Maegor x reader

*No use of y/n

Warnings: Child loss, Targaryen incest, mature content, young pregnancy.

Note: This has been sitting in my drafts since the b&c episode, sorry for some mistakes I made:)

Anyone who had a mouth would always say the gods did not favor the king. Although the four pregnancies his niece wife had been blessed with said other wise. It raised a large concern among the Maesters since the girl had been young when she bore Maegor’s first child, and within months, she was pregnant once more with his second. This happened two more times, ultimately she bore three boys and one girl, yet, the king was but satisfied. Despite obviously favoring their oldest son Aegon, Maegor wanted more children. Wanting for his legacy to carry on, he pressed his wife for one more child.

His wife refused having just given birth to their daughter, Rhaella . She had been warned by the midwife and the grand maester that she would not be able to birth another child. King Maegor however, did not take this lightly. He reminded her once more about her position. She was there to provide him with children.

Being the youngest of his wife’s, the princess was often sheltered by Ceryse Hightower. The oldest of the queens. Having seen Alys tortured and killed by Tyanna , Ceryse was more protective of the young girl. Suggesting the young girl to spend her each of the four pregnancies at Dragonstone with the queen mother Visenya. The princess agreed after all, her mother Dowager queen Alyssa and two youngest siblings were wards of queen Visenya.

Upon her return to the almost finished Redkeep, the princess was greeted by Ceryse. Aegon the oldest came running to his mother, his brother Baelon by his side. They adored their mother, more than anything, always following her around.Their youngest son Rheanor who was still a babe was brought in by his wet nurse. “They’ve missed you” Ceryse smiled to the princess, helping her take a seat on the sofa. Ceryse cradled Rhaella in her arms, a beautiful baby girl with light purple eyes and small silver curls “She’s beautiful “ Ceryse whispered more to herself than the princess. “My only girl” the young girl smiled at the tiny girl “she’s so quiet”. As Ceryse held Rhaella, the princess paid her attention to her three boys. Aegon she had when she just five and ten, Baelon came next in that very same year. Maegor believed he had defied the gods who failed to grant him a child. When she was six and ten she gave birth to Rhaenor, following his previous act, Maegor got his wife pregnant again.

“I’m afraid” The princess voice took Ceryse out of her thoughts. Ceryse looked up bewildered not entirely sure what the princess meant. She stayed silent for a moment, then spoke “Don’t be” Ceryse reassured her “Tyanna would be foolish to harm your children “. The princess shook her head “not Tyannna” she paused looking away from Aegon for a second “The gods” she said softly, placing a soft kiss on Aegon’s head.

Ceryse did not know what to say, she simply looked back at Rhaella “Tonight I’ll tell the guards to stand by your door” she told the young girl.

That night, the wind blew hard, the whistling of the air was heard like hushing voices. The rest of the royal apartments had yet to be finished and with Rhaella still being a new born babe, the princess moved her bed to a single room. Where she could be closer to her precious children.

After her sons were fast asleep, the princess turned her attention to her daughter, but as she was about to pick her up from the cradle ; two figures emerged from the shadows. The princess let out a small gasp, but before she could do anything a man grabbed her and pointed a sharp dagger to her throat. His voice raspy and deep “Stay still” he commanded, his spit getting on her frighten face.

The other figure stepped out, he wore the robes of the Faith of the seven and held a small sack in his hand. The man holding the dagger laughed, a wicked and bloody laugh “we’ve got the queen!” he sneered his sharp blade tightening deeper into her throat. The man with robes spoke with a stoic face “they asked for son”. The man with the dagger scoffed “pick one” he said nudging his head to three beds in the room. Aegon, Baelon and Rhaenor slept, unaware of the immense danger they were in.

“Please-“ the young girl begged softly, tears swelling up in her eyes. She did not want to wake up the children, but she needed to be a bit louder so the guards could hear her. “Shush” the man with the dagger hissed “we need to get at it and get out” . She tried to speak louder but the man covered her mouth muffling her sounds while he pulled her closer. The man with the robes looked at then three sleeping boys “Which one is the oldest” he spoke coldy to the young girl. “I-“ she tried to speak but no words came out her mouth. She looked at the man with her dagger who held her with a firm grip.

“I have a necklace” she spoke softly reaching for her neck “It’s of great value-“ she was cut off by the man with the dagger who he snatched the necklace right off her neck. “That’s not a son” he sneered shoving it into his pocket.

“Please” she begged her tears falling down her terrified eyes “kill me” she sobbed “not my boys” she pleaded in desperation. But her pleads were to no avail. She looked back at the door hoping for a guard to hear her, come bursting through the doors and put an end to this madness.

The man with the dagger followed her gaze and mockingly spoke “There’s no one out there”. The young girl’s heart dropped even more. The air had left her stomach, her mouth had gone dry, for a second her tears had stopped. Simply standing there in a paralyzed state, her mind had gone blanked.

“Pick the oldest” the man with the robes spoke . “Or we’ll kill them all” his harsh words snapped her out the shock, like a fish out a water she gasped and pointed at Aegon’s bed.

Her first born, her first babe. The child that had made her a mother.

“She could be lying” the man with dagger said skeptically to which the man with the robes corrected upon seeing the young girl’s expression “No” he spoke solemnly “she’s telling true.”

The man with the dagger pushed the young girl away from him “Hold him down” he said moving to Aegon. The young girl watched in horror as the man with the robes covered Aegon’s mouth “mommy-“ was the last thing she heard as they began to cut his throat.

She moved quickly, picking her baby girl from the cradle, she moved to Rhaenor’s bed pulling up to her. The sleeping child woke up confused, the room was filled with the Aegon’s muffled cries. She reached in for for Baelon but she could not carry three kids at once. She was in despair and unsure what to do, “run” she told Baelon who was still woozy from his sleep. She had a one year old in one her arm and her girl in the other. She hurried after Baelon whose small foot steps were barely heard.

The man with the dagger was right, there was no one guarding her door. She ran, catching up to Baelon making sure not to drop the children, her arms trembling and her voice soft and frighten she begged “please …. please “. Her soft rapid breathing was filled with anguish and terror. She stopped in the middle of the hall, then turned to rushing. The castle was dead silent, the only thing she could hear was the whispering of the hair.

Making her way through the unfinished halls she hurried to Maegor’s chambers. Surely he would protect her, he would understand. He could keep his three children safe from the men’s harm. “Mommy” Baelon’s tiny voice spoke trying to hold on to her. It only made the young girl more desperate, as she had no free arms left. She placed Rhaenor down close to Baelon as she ushered them forward to keep on walking.

She pushed though the doors of Maegor’s chamber to see Ceryse’s naked back on top on Maegor , her back moving on him while their moans filled the chamber. The young girl moved forward crouching down on the far end of the room.

Maegor pushed Ceryse off quickly sitting up, looking at his wife with a horrid expression Ceryse gasped “Your grace-“ she tried to speak but was cut off by Maegor who noticed his young wife pulling the two boys closer while still holding her daughter. “What’s happened “ he demanded loudly.

She didn’t say anything simply stared into the ground still clutching her children “The killed my boy” she spoke solemnly a single burning tear falling down her cheek. The child held her children closely wishing for it to be a nightmare, a nightmare her mother would soon wake her up from.

[gojuo]

so this is how blood & cheese should have went down if hotd had actual good writers: the plotline starts with rhaenyra wailing and sobbing over luke's death on dragonstone. daemon tries to console her as much as he can stand to do so. she tells him that she wants them dead, every single last one of those traitors. daemon grins of course, because this is how he raised her to be: a vengeful, spoiled, hateful, vindictive monster (he has been grooming her since she was 8 years old to hate her half-siblings after all). the next scene in this plotline would have us see to daemon and mysaria in bed together in harrenhal, where he painstakingly details out what he wants her to do exactly. he gives not just mysaria, but us, the viewers, word for word the sequence of events that he wants to happen on the night of the assassination. we the viewers are deeply horrified by his orders, because what he orders is monstrous. book readers would be kept on their toes, because surely the show would change this event in some ways, right? daemon describing it exactly as it was in the book has to be a red herring right?, is what they would be thinking. and show-only watchers would be on the edge of their seats wondering throughout the entirety of the episode if something so horrific would actually take place on screen. both book readers and show watchers would be left with the question of, is this seriously what's going to happen? no fucking way..., when watching the episode unfold. the next scenes concerning the plotline would be mysaria hiring blood and cheese, a scene or two establishing their characters, them getting intel on where helaena and the kids will be, talking about how difficult it would be to break into maegor's holdfast bc of all the guards so the only option is the tower of the hand ... and then eventually night falls over king's landing and we are in the red keep. we'll be near the end of the episode, like the last 15 minutes, and we follow cheese as he leads blood through the tunnels to the tower of the hand where alicent's room is. earlier in the ep we learned helaena always takes the kiddos there to say goodnight to grandma. they sneak into the room where they strangle her maid, kill the guards in front of the door quietly, and beat alicent until she's knocked out and they tie her up and gag her so she cannot be heard. then cheese goes to stand next to the door in preparation for helaena's arrival, while blood sits on a sofa facing the door. the next scenes would be focused on helaena as she gathers the kiddos to go from maegor's holdfast to the tower of the hand, and we are getting eerie, dark gothic grunge vibes from the camera shots as she gets these weird premonitions, shivers crawling up her spine. but she still goes to the tower of the hand, while the viewers would be screaming and yelling and crying and sobbing at the tv begging her not to go there. but helaena goes anyway because this is a canon event baby. i told you in the beginning of the episode what was going to happen :^) and then it happens exactly as described in both f&b and earlier in the ep by daemon. the beheading would of course not be shown but i would have jaehaerys' blood spray all over helaena and alicent while she does the ellaria scream and alicent is crying unable to do anything bc her hands are bound behind her back and she has a gag in her mouth. the final few shots of the episode would be in slow motion (all the while you hear helaena's screams) as the entire red keep hears this harrowed shrieking and so the guards and the maids and the servants all run to alicent's rooms and we see the pools of blood underneath everyone's feet as they go in and out of the room then finally we come to the last shot of the episode which is aegon's frightened face as he slowly walks through the chaos, puts his hand on the slightly closed door, pushes it open (all the while we hear helaena's unending screams), and he quietly says, "jaehaerys?" roll credits.

that's how you write and adapt a fucking book scene @ ryan condal & co you pieces of worthless shit.

[munson-blurbs]

Eddie and Ms. Sweetheart's honeymoon 🥹🥹🥹

The way I ran to Google Docs to write this, not just because I love me some fluffy smut, but also because I love you.

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

Summary: Relaxing on the beach, giving your new husband a sexy surprise...what more can you ask for?

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), p in v, breeding kink (of course), Ms. Sweetheart/Reader wears lingerie

WC: 1.1k

A/N: Big thank you and smoochy kisses to @jo-harrington for helping me make this piece body-inclusive, and to @corroded-hellfire for ensuring the breeding kink was on point.

August 1998

“What a day.” Eddie flops onto the king-size bed face first, still in his wet swim trunks. Sand sticks to the bottom of his feet; you swear he’s traipsed in half the beach. “Who knew lounging in the sun could be so exhausting? I don’t know how we’re gonna go back to our normal lives.” He flips over onto his back so his words are no longer muffled. “Like, my body might be back in Hawkins, but my mind will be in Myrtle Beach.”

You laugh, arms crossed over your chest and pressed against the thin fabric of your cover-up. “Can you drag yourself into the shower and wash off?” When he doesn’t move, you let your fingertips dance along the sole of his foot. He giggles maniacally and reflexively, drawing inwards. 

“Dammit, okay, okay!” He shakes his head and pushes himself up to an upright position. “The things you do to get me naked…”

“Mhm.” You roll your eyes dismissively as though his suggestion is absurd—even though that’s exactly what you’re trying to do. 

As soon as you hear the squeak of the spigot and the ensuing stream of water, you unzip your suitcase and rifle through until you find what you’re looking for. You feel it before you see it, fingers grasping the lacy fabric triumphantly. 

You shed the flower-printed cover-up, catching a glimpse in the mirror of yourself in your swimsuit. Eddie had picked it out for you—a one-piece that hugged you in all the right places. Truthfully, you could wear this and it would turn him on, but this is your honeymoon, and you want it to be special. 

Peeling off the damp suit, you toss it aside; it lands on the floor with a comical thwack, and you make a mental note to pick it up later. 

The teddy you’d bought weeks ago suddenly looks daunting, purchased during a trip to the mall with Jess. She’d insisted that no honeymoon is complete without some lingerie, and you’d reluctantly given in after she’d assured you multiple times that Eddie would, quote, “lose his goddamn mind.”

Soft black cups perfectly hold your breasts in place, accentuating your decolletage. The sheer mesh covering your torso is embroidered with lace roses, leaving just enough to the imagination. 

All right, you can admit it—you look good. 

You lounge on the small sofa that faces the bathroom, adjusting the bodysuit’s thin straps as you wait for the steadily falling water to cease, punctuated by several rogue drops. Your heart leaps with excitement as you hear the door knob twist and you’re bathed in a plume of steamy air. 

“Surprised you didn’t try to join—holy hell.” Eddie exhales with a grin, taking in your scantily-clad body. A white towel is slung low on his hips, sopping up the water trickling from his curls. “Where did you get this little number, baby?”

Heat creeps into your cheeks as he saunters toward you, one hand finding the small of your back while the other caresses your cheek. He leans in and kisses you hungrily, his burgeoning erection pressing against your bare thigh.

“Got me all worked up just by looking at you, Mrs. Munson,” he murmurs into your lips. It sends a shiver of pleasure down your spine as he deepens his embrace, pulling you as close as he possibly can.

Your fingers dip beneath the towel, tugging it from where it’s tucked along his waist and letting it drop. He’s fully exposed, and it takes all of your willpower to keep up this game of seduction and refrain from kissing down his happy trail.

“Since you’re so tired tonight, baby,” you coo, nipping at his earlobe as you speak, “I figured I could take care of you.” Your palms journey the expanse of his chest, draping them over his shoulders and guiding him onto the bed. The fresh bed sheets are crisp underneath your knees as you straddle him, grinding your core against his. “‘S that okay?”

Eddie nods, letting out an incredulous breath. “Course, yeah, whatever you want…” He sits up slightly, mouth drawn to your breasts as though pulled by a magnet. 

“I want you,” you tell him, sucking bruises into his neck that you hope will last until you return home. “I want you inside me, filling me up, making me feel so, so good…”

The fabric between your thighs is already soaked with proof of your desire, and you shift it over so you can sink down onto his hardened length. You take him inch by inch, the tip breaching your hole and stretching you in its delicious, familiar way.

“Oh, my god,” you whimper, bringing his hands to the flesh of your ass and giving your movements more stability. Each rock of your hips draws a moan from your husband’s plush lips, his tongue darting out to wet them every so often. “Eddie, oh, my god!”

His grip on your ass tightens as you clench around him and continue to bounce. “‘M close,” he grunts, breath hitching as he begins slamming up into you to chase his release. “Fuck, baby, you’re so fuckin’ tight…can’t hold back any more…” He speaks through gritted teeth, purely animalistic in nature. 

Your middle finger finds your clit, rubbing small circles into it. The small movements drive both you and Eddie absolutely wild. 

“Thassit…touch yourself for me,” he groans, barely audible above the lewd sounds of skin-on-skin and the way you’re drenching him right now. “You look so goddamn perfect like this, filled to the brim with my cock.”

“Wanna be filled with your cum, too,” you whine, feeling the beginnings of your own orgasm. “Wanna take all your cum, Eddie, like a good little wife.”

Eddie’s eyes practically roll back in his head. “My good little wife, all barefoot and pregnant…fuckfuckfuck…takeittakeittakeit.” With a final few thrusts, he spills into you with everything he has. His grasp loosens as he softly kisses your arms, desperate to remain close to you in any way possible. 

“So,” you start with a giggle, gently moving off of him so you can cuddle into his perspiration-slick chest, “looks like you got a second wind.”

He tilts your chin up, his eyes studying your face like a precious gemstone. “Give me ten minutes and I’ll get a third, okay, Sweetheart?” He winks, thumb gliding up and down your jawline. “Keep that sexy outfit on f’me, though. I’m not done with either of you.”

--

[featherandferns]

day 5/24 - obx christmas countdown

‘He’s the little boy that Santa Claus forgot, and goodness knows, he didn’t want a lot’ - Nat King Cole, The Little Boy That Santa Claus Forgot | angst-fluff

There’s a wonder-like joy that overcomes every girl and boy on Christmas Eve and Day. A round bellied old man with a beard white as snow and suit as red as rubies, who rides a magic sleigh that flies through the air, piled high with presents of all shapes and sizes. Quirky reindeer guide him through the night, their hooves never once touching ground, with rhyming names and shiny red noses at the head of the group. You write a letter and list all the things your heart desires, and send it off to the North Pole. You hunker down in your bed and will yourself to sleep despite the pounding excitement in your chest knowing that he’s on his way! 

JJ loved Christmas. He loved the glitter and the glitz of the lights and decorations. His dad never did much bother with it but the department stores in town, especially those in Figure Eight - boy, oh, boy, did they go all out! The town centre had a huge tree decorated from head to toe and at school they’d make crafts and cards. JJ had worked tirelessly on the one for his dad, made out of red and gold crinkle paper. He loved the food and the feasts. The turkey and the stuffing and the pies and cakes. His dad never did much bother with it but Pope’s dad went all out! It was mouth watering, the smells the kitchen filled with. Leftover sandwiches were part of the holiday, to JJ. He loved the music and the movies. His dad never did much bother with it but John B insisted on watching the Snoopy Christmas Special every year, without fail. They’d indulge in popcorn and candies and make their way through all the classic holiday flicks. Yes, it was safe to say that JJ loved Christmas. 

Whilst JJ’s dad didn’t care about the traditions, he was always there Christmas morning. There were gifts under the tree and his dad would lounge on the sofa and watch JJ unwrap them, nodding in approval and grunting in acknowledgement. On really good years, he’d show an interest in trying out some of the toys. One time he even bought JJ a fishing rod of his own. That was the best Christmas ever. 

On Christmas Eve on JJ’s eighth year, he followed the rules. He’d written his letter plenty in advance and mailed his off with Pope and John B’s. He’d gone to Church and said his prayers and sang the hymns for Jesus. Finally, he’d laid out two biscuits (they were a little stale but he was sure Santa wouldn’t mind all that much!) and a carrot for Rudolph (though he hoped the other reindeer might get a nibble too), and a glass of milk as per requirement. Then, he’d scampered off to bed and pulled the cover up to his chin, and squeezed his eyes shut until sleep willed him under. 

When JJ woke up on Christmas Day, he shot up like he’d drank fifteen cups of coffee. It was light outside and his blinking alarm clock told him it was morning. He threw the blanket off him and jumped down onto the floor from his bed. His bare feet smacked loudly against the hard wooden floors as he raced into the living room, grinning, brimming with excitement. 

Then, he slowed to a stop. 

The milk was still there. Not a drop missing. The biscuits were too, as was the carrot. JJ’s heart sank deep into his stomach. His eyes scanned over to the tree, barren of decorations, wilting at the leaves. Nothing. Not a single parcel or present. Not a giftbag or toy. No fishing rod. Only the handmade Christmas card JJ had made his dad. 

Maybe…Maybe Santa was just running late. He had the entire world to get too, of course. Yes, yeah, that’s what it’ll be. His dad will know. 

JJ walks to his dad’s bedroom door and pauses outside for sounds of life. No snores. He knocks twice then eases the door open on creaking hinges. The bed is empty, devoid of any sign that his dad had slept there at all. Maybe he was out collecting food for dinner. Yes, sure, they were going to have a proper Christmas dinner! 

Despite his attempts for optimism, JJ feels his spirits sagging with every step back to his bedroom. He dresses in silence. Pulls on his shoes and fastens his jacket. He can’t bare to look at the tree and biscuits and milk in fear of crying. Instead, he heads out the door in search of his father. 

There aren’t too many people out on the streets of Kildare this early on Christmas morning. Those who are, are family. Mothers walking hand in hand with their daughters. Little boys playing catch with their dads. Siblings comparing toys and trying out new bikes and tricycles. JJ shoves his hands in his pockets and swallows the envy. An unnatural feeling simmers deep inside of him. Something like frustration. Something like anger. 

Somewhere in his walk, he gives up on the hunt for his father. He gives up on reasoning that Santa was running late. If he was late, how did all the other children in Kildare have their presents? As JJ walked, he came to the sick, solemn, sad realisation that he was the little boy that Santa Claus forgot. 

“Hey! JJ!”

JJ freezes in the street at the sound of his name. He looks around and finds you rushing out the bakery. He recognised you from school. You were the pretty girl at the front of the class. You always wore you hair the same way, complete with a bow, and it seems today was no exception. You were known for being the peacemaker among fallings out and the girl who lingered after class to help tidy up. Smart and savvy, you were top of the class too, but you didn’t kiss ass in the way that would usually irritate JJ. Instead, you’d help your tablemate finish their work too. 

JJ’s surprised you even know his name. He’s even more surprised when you practically tackle him in a hug. JJ stands like a statue for a second before he hesitantly wraps his arms around your dainty frame, hugging you back. 

“Merry Christmas, JJ,” you say warmly against him. 

Tears spring to JJ’s eyes. You were the first person to say that to him today. 

Pulling away, JJ stares at you in shock, unsure of what to say. Your mouth parts with a gasp. “Wait here!”

JJ does as he’s told. He doesn’t have anywhere to be, afterall. You rush back into your parent’s bakery - Kildare’s Cakes - and waits for a short while until you reappear. In your hand is a warm chocolate chip muffin, wrapped in a snowman covered napkin. You hold it out to him. 

“Your present!” you beam. 

JJ stares at it like he’s never been on earth before. Steam rises off the top; the sponge breaking temptingly at the top, showing the gooey chocolate chips inside. Its sweet smell drifts into the fresh air of December. JJ slowly reaches out and takes it from you. 

“Thanks,” he murmurs. His first Christmas present and, what would later turn out to be, his only Christmas present that year. 

You linger and seem unsure of what else to say. So, with a nod and a smile, you hurry out, “well, I better get back inside. I hope you have a wonderful day though!”

Then, quick as dasher, you dart forward and press a warm kiss to his cheek. JJ blinks after you as you wave farewell, returning back into the shop and closing the door. That small act was the catalyst to JJ’s feelings for you, that only grew as time went on. Now, married, with children of your own, no matter how many gifts and how many dinners and how many songs and movies: JJ decided that his eight Christmas was his favourite Christmas of all. Santa might have forgotten about him; but you surely didn’t.

[ashprince-of-bel-air]

Sam Drake: Aftercare

I am a sucker for the aftercare of battle trope. I am also in love with Sam Drake from Uncharted 4 again. 18+ because smut. i also have written this after a few alcoholic drinks so plz don't judge me too much.

You sat Sam at the edge of the bathtub of your motel, it would be easier to clean him this way, making sure the blood from his wounds would not stain the floor. You knelt between his legs in the bath, taking great care to clean his injuries properly, his arm would twitch occasionally and try and bat you away, but you resisted. “No Sam, I need to make sure your wounds are clean” Your voice was soft and reassuring, you did not want him to tend to himself, you saw how he tended to his own wounds, dousing them in alcohol and wrapping them up, it was not sanitary.

It had been a hard day for you both, Sam had bore the brunt of the injuries, ones you were now attending. You heard his hisses and gasps as you cleaned his wounds, you knew it was not pleasant, but you wanted to make sure he would not have an infection. After cleaning the final cut on his chest, you lifted yourself from the bath, making your way over to the counter nearby to dispose of your used items.

“These will leave scars won’t they?” Sams voice was quiet, he wasn’t sure if he even wanted an answer to that question. You lifted your head and smiled softly at him “Women love men with scars, it makes them look mysterious” You winked at him to try and make Sam feel better, it worked somewhat as he smiled at you watching you dispose of the used medical equipment.

Sam’s eyes were upon you, his eyebrows manoeuvred into a cocky position. “Mysterious? I like the sound of that” Sam spoke as he lifted himself out of the bath, perching himself on the edge of it so he can watch you. “I don’t think I need mysterious though, I have women fawning over me anyway” Sam winked at you, you could see it caused him pain to do so, he was so stubborn and would never admit a fault or being in pain.

You rolled your eyes at the arrogant man, chuckling to yourself as you walked out of the bathroom, you knew Sam would recover just fine, you wouldn’t have left him otherwise, he was a big boy and could make his own way out of the bathroom. You found yourself in the main area of the rented room, only a king size bed lay before you, you were sure that you told the reception that you wanted 2 singles, it was now too late to rectify, the hotel was sold out for the night, and you did not have infinite money.

“Does someone need a cuddle?” You heard a sarcastic voice emanate from behind you. Sam walked past you and took a seat at the edge of the bed with a wicked grin on his face, realising the situation for himself. “Sharing the bed with you is a dream come true darling” His smirk was captivating, it caused you to smile and shake your head, you had gone this far resisting his charms, surely you could go one more night.

“As generous as that is Sam, I think I’ll stay on the sofa. Besides, you look like a quilt thief to me” Your voice was low and sultry, you did not mean it to be so, but Sam brought out the flirtatious side of you, you could not control it.

“Me? A quilt thief? I am offended! I will have you know that I am a saint in bed. No cover stealing, no snoring, just me, laid in my glorious perfection like an angel.” Sam’s voice was cocky and playful as he laid back on the bed, trying to entice you in, your eyes glossed over his shirtless body, eyes raking over his abs, wondering how they felt, watching his lips and wanting to know how they taste. You shook those thoughts from your head before Sam could notice you daydreaming.

“There are many words I could use to describe you Sam, an Angel is not one of them” A chuckle left your lips as you retrieved your beers from the hotel room fridge, it had been a long day, and you were deserving of one. You cracked one open for yourself and one for Sam, walking over to the edge of the bed you sat down and held the drink out to him.

Sam watched you intently as you sat down and took the drink from you. “You say I’m no Angel Y/N, the devil was an Angel at first” Sam’s eyebrows wiggled as he moved towards you on the bed, aiming to sit beside you.

“That’s true, until his ceremonious fall from grace” You retorted and took a long drink of your beer, leaning back on your hands on the bed, your eyebrows wiggling, enjoying the banter between you both, there was a sexual tension between the both of you that had not been noticed by Sam, you wanted to see how far you could push him.

Sam chuckled to himself, he shuffled slightly on the bed, making a little more room for you “And what a glorious fall it was” His voice was a mix of amusement and allure, he ran a hand through his hair, smoothing the tangles as much as he could as he awaited your presence next to him. “Do you know what else they say about the devil Y/N?” His voice was low and sultry, you had heard this tone before when he had charmed other women, it was just as effective on you.

“And what else do they say about the devil, Sam?” You rolled your eyes playfully at him, he was ever the flirt, and you expected a stupid response.

“They say the devil is charming, seductive, able to lure you into his trap with just a sinful look.” Sam moved closer to you as he spoke, his breath hot upon your neck, feeling the roughness of his stubble against your skin. Your breath caught in your throat as you felt him against you, Sam had never been this bold before and you were enjoying it. His lips were now exploring your neck, Sam was making sure to cover every possible bit of skin that he could. 

“And you do look ever so sinful” Your voice was breathy and desperate; you did not even mean to voice your feelings but his lips against your neck made you weak. Your comment was barely a whisper, but it made Sam smile against your neck, he had you now and he knew you wanted this as much as he did. Sam pulled you back onto the bed with him, kissing your skin with passion, you fell into it, roaming his body just as passionately as he roamed yours. The feeling of his scars under your delicate touch, you wanted to kiss each one, to make him feel looked after and loved.

Sam helped you remove your shirt with ease, throwing it to one side, his eyes leered over your bare form, it was more than he could have imagined, you were a vision, one he could not believe was here before him. You had now moved to straddle his waist, falling into the passion that was taking over you both. Sam let out a breathy moan as he felt your body on his, his hands now gripping onto your thighs for dear life, the way his fingers were gripping into your flesh was sure to leave a mark, the thought of it made you even more desperate for him, wanting him to mark you as his.

Sam’s hands roamed your body and yours roamed his, you were both hungry for each other, this tension between you both had been threatening to spill for a while. A soft push was all it took for Sam to lay back on the bed before you, you were atop him and in control, teasing him as you saw fit, kissing his neck and biting his ear, eliciting those sweet moans from his lips. His calloused hands were rough upon the soft skin of your hips as he rolled your over, you looked at him in shock as you saw him atop you, taking every inch of your body into his memory.

You laid underneath Sam, his lean body pressed against you, it was a struggle to not moan at the feeling of him against you, you had daydreamed about him atop you ever since you had met him, you had never thought it would be a reality. Sam’s lips were attacking your neck and collar bone roughly, not caring if he left any marks, you were his now anyway. As the assault on your skin carried on you felt his hands roam down your body, one hand moving to the one area you were desperate to feel him. One hand finally found its way to your core, his fingers rubbing against your throbbing clit, causing you to tremble and moan underneath him.

Sam’s face was buried in the crook of your neck, revelling in the sounds of your moans, trying hard not to rub against your leg beneath him, craving relief. As you were nearing your climax, Sam removed his hand from your core, the whimper that escaped your lips was like music to his ears, knowing he could elicit such a reaction from you was mind blowing to him. Your breath was ragged, you were desperate and craved relief from him now, kissing him with passion and pulling him towards you.

Sam enjoyed the attention you were giving him, the affection and desperation for his touch was like a melody to him. He had wanted you as much as you now wanted him, he was more than happy to acquiesce to your desires. You were beneath him, desperate for him, Sam swiped his girthy length between your wet slick folds, revelling in the sounds of your moans before he pressed himself into you. It was a shock at first, you felt your body stretch around him, you loved the pain of it, getting used to it with every thrust.

Your bodies were now entwined with each other, a sweaty mess of euphoria, Sam had given a few more thrusts before you both climaxed, you were both breathless as you felt the ecstasy rush through your body. Laid in bed together you were silent, feeling the afterglow of your intimate encounter.

You laid with your head on Sam’s chest affectionately. “Work isn’t going to be weird is it?” You asked jokingly, releasing the tension in the air. Sam stroked your hair softly, taking time to kiss the top of your head. “It will only be weird if you want it to be sweetheart.”

[late-to-the-party-81]

here’s a little challenge for you: steve + bucky + reader + one bed. make what you want of it hehe 😇 congrats on 1k, jen! <3

In the middle of the night

AN: Another day, and once again, beds appear to be in short supply. Thank you for this thot, Lyn!

Beta’d by @lfnr-blog-blog-blog, dividers by @firefly-graphics, moodboard and banner by me

Main Master list | Challenge Master list

Summary: What’s worse than sharing a motel room with the supersoldier boyfriends you have a crush on? Having to share a bed with them.

Relationship: Stucky x Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

CW: THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED, Smidge Angst, Minor miscommunication, pining, teasing, implied smut about to commence.

“Guys, I’ll just take the sofa. I’ll manage.” You weren’t sure if you were trying to convince them or yourself. It didn’t work though; Bucky just looked at you with his eyebrow raised.

“Really,doll? You might be shorter than us, but you’re not that short.”

He was right, of course. At 5ft 10 you were far too tall for most sofas let alone the one in the room of this ratty motel. 

“What do you suggest then? That we all sleep in that?” You nodded your head at it. It being the king sized bed in the middle of the room.

Steve looked up from where he was rummaging through his go bag.

“Seems like the only sensible option to me. Normally we’d offer to sleep on the floor, but…” He eyed what passed for a carpet in the room. You had to agree with him. The chances were that anything placed upon it for any length of time would be carried off by the roaches that were probably living in it. You shuddered at the thought and repressed a gag.

“Well as long as you two keep the mushy stuff to a minimum, I suppose. It’s bad enough when I’ve shared a room with you both before and you’re being all cuddly and shit. Makes a single girl sick.” This time your gag was for comedic effect.

Bucky grinned at you, and in two strides was next to you, arm slung around your shoulder, giving you a slight squeeze.

“Are you just jealous in general, or jealous of one of us, specifically. Wouldn’t blame you; we are both hot.”

“You wish!” You pulled a face and shoved him away. “Now go get a shower, Barnes. You smell of swamp.”

He pouted back, but his light blue eyes sparkled with amusement.

“Me! What about Stevie! And you, doll. We all fell in that water.”

“Yeah, but you’ve still got swamp weed in your hair.”

You reached up and plucked the offending piece of flora from his chestnut locks then, feeling impish, threw it at Steve. It landed on his shoulder, but he just turned on ‘the Captain glare’ as you and Bucky started giggling like children.

An hour later you were finishing off in the small, and frankly disgusting, bathroom. 

Bucky had used it first, scurrying in to escape Steve’s overdramatic ire and you had gone in search of food. When you got back Bucky was sitting on the edge of the bed, in his sweats and rubbing his hair dry with a threadbare towel. You threw bags full of food for your two enhanced teammates onto the coffee table.

“Cap in the shower?”

“Yeah - he won’t be too long. I’ve known that guy to have a full shower in less than 2 minutes. And after all these years, I’m still not sure how he does it.”

True to Bucky’s, Steve had stepped out just then, clad in his own sweats, short blond hair sticking up from where he’d given it a quick scrub. Gathering your own wash things and clean clothes to sleep in, you’d slipped around him, trying to ignore the loving look Bucky was throwing at his boyfriend.

Luckily there was enough hot water left for you. The boys wouldn’t have heard the end of it otherwise.

Returning to the bedroom, you mentally prepared yourself for an awful night’s sleep.It was bad enough that you were, once again, sharing a room with two men you had massive crushes on - who only had eyes for each other, this time you’d also be squished on the same bed, no doubt clinging onto the edge of the mattress and trying not to fall out.

The two supersoldiers were already lying in the bed, eyes closed, Bucky being the little spoon to Steve’s big one. They were scootched over so far that you were worried that Steve was about to drop off his side. Gingerly you climbed into the remaining space, your back to Bucky, and you switched off the small lamp they’d left on for you.

Moonlight shone through the thin curtains, casting weak shadows. You tried to relax but found yourself just staring at the strange shapes thrown on the wall in front of you. You could hear both of them breathing. 

Slow. 

Steady. 

Completely fake.

Bucky shifted behind your back, his arm brushing over your ass and hip. If he had been asleep you could have believed it to be accidental. It settled across your waist, a copy of how you imagined Steve’s was lying over his.

“Um…Buck?” You whispered out of habit. “What are you doing?”

“‘S not a lot of space, doll. We need to cosy up, so you and Stevie don’t fall out.” You could hear the smile in his voice.

“He’s also like a radiator, sweetheart. And we’ve noticed you don’t like to get cold. Just go with it.” Great. Now Steve was joining in.

“It just feels… you know… weird.” Something about the darkness was making you feel braver than you had in a while. Although that bravery started to wane slightly when Bucky shuffled even closer and you could feel his breath on the back of your neck.

“Whaddya mean ‘weird’? I think it feels nice.”

You flipped over to face him, despite the fact that there was so little light it made the gesture pointless. You were getting frustrated. Both emotionally and sexually.

“Bucky. Your boyfriend is right there, cuddling you, but apparently cuddling me is nice. And for some reason Steve is fine with it.”

The shadows behind Bucky shifted; Steve lifting his head.

“Wanna know why I’m fine with it?”

“Cos you’re secure in your and Bucky’s relationship, and you know this is just practical?”

He chuckled, low and deep, and boy did the sound do things to you. Oh, god! How keen were his senses? Would he be able to smell your arousal?

“Well, yes, but also, no…”

Before you could question him, Bucky’s arm tightened around your waist and suddenly he flipped you both, placing you in the middle of the bed, wedged between him and Steve. Your hands were pressed up against Steve’s chest, his coarse chest hairs tickling your palms. Bucky’s hand was splayed against your stomach, keeping you in place, pressed against him.

“What the hell?”

“We realised something, doll.” Bucky was practically purring in your ear. His hips pressed up against your ass and…oh!

“W-what’s that?” You could barely breathe, frozen rigid in the bed, afraid to move.

Steve wiggled down the bed in front of you, so that your hands were on his shoulders and both your faces were level.

“That you aren’t jealous of either of us when Buck and I are being affectionate. You’re jealous of both of us. You’ve got the hots for both of us.”

You scowled, hoping that despite the low light he could see your annoyance.

“So, what? You decided you’d both tease me. Thanks so much.” You shuffled violently and sat up, kicking off the last part of the coverlet. You pushed up on your knees, but Steve copied you, effectively blocking you.

“We’re not teasing you, sweetheart. Let me finish. Please.”

The bed dipped behind you; Bucky getting to his knees too. Your head was a swirl of emotions. Confusion, want, frustration, and something that might have been hope. Steve took hold of your hands, rubbing his thumbs across the backs of your knuckles.

“We’re trying to tell you… we’ve got the hots for you too.”

“Majorly,” Bucky interjected. “It’s been torture these last few months. Fighting beside you. Sharing a room. You, being so close, but not attainable.” You could feel the heat radiating off him and all you wanted to do was relax back onto his firm chest. And you wanted to believe what they were apparently telling you.

Steve tugged on your hands, pulling you closer to him.

“You can’t begin to imagine how Buck and I have been when we’ve got back to our apartment at the compound after missions with you. How we’ve been so wound up, so goddamn horny thinking about you. Thank goodness for sound-proofing. I think we’ve fucked each other seven ways from Sunday everytime.”

Bucky had moved again; regained his previous spot plastered against your back. Both his hands were settled on your waist, just above your hips. He dipped his head, and his hair brushed your neck before his lips settled just below your ear. Testing you.

“Do you want us, doll?” His lips trailed down your neck and you tilted it to bare your throat to him. Your busy mind had cleared. Now only the want remained. Bucky and Steve were pressed against you in the moonlight, surrounding you with their scent and promising you pleasure. All you had to do was answer.

“Yes!”

Tag list: @christywantspizza @jobean12-blog @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky @tuiccim @yarnforbrains @sidepartskinnyjeans @flordeamatista @krissy25 @bodeckersdiamonddoll @goldylions @wheezy-stucky @doasyoudesireandlive @chemtrails-club @seitmai @marvelstarker-mha98 @talia-rumlow

[tranceindia123]

Drapes that create magic!

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[royaloak-furniture]

Buy King size Mattress from Royaloak - India’s No.1 furniture brand.

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[s1llysmut]

hii :3 i was wondering if you could do a jealous/possesive Lucifer x reader smut fic with an aftercare bit at the end? preferably a trans (f to m) reader but if not im not picky :]

A/N: Yes of course!!! I’ll do my best!!!

CW/TW: Breeding, jealousy, slight blood, biting

Mine

Alastor x reader smut

It was a regular day at the hazbin hotel. Angel Dust was flirting with Husk who was running the bar, Vaggie and Charlie were discussing plans for the hotel, sir pentious was watching Nifty sweep the floor for the 67th time, and Alastor and you were sitting on the sofa. You scrolling through your phone, Alastor reading a newspaper.

It was quite a peaceful quiet day. Or at least it was.

“Charlie!”

“Dad! What are you doing here?”

In walked the king of hell. While his daughter rushed over to greet him, so did Alastor. Just, well, not as friendly.

“Ah! If it isn’t the king of hell! Finally being a mediocre father and visiting your daughter?” Alastor smiled but it was obviously not happiness behind his eyes.

Lucifer’s eyebrows furrowed and his mouth opened but surprisingly no sarcastic response came out. Instead he closed his mouth as quickly as he opened it, and started waltzing over to none other than you.

Uh oh. This can’t be good.

“Y/n! Oh it’s so good to see you!” Lucifer smiles brightly at you as he sits beside you.

“Oh hi Lucifer. Nice to see you too,” realistically you don’t care if Lucifer is at the hotel or not. Some people love him like Charlie, others hate him like Alastor, however you just genuinely don’t care.

You can see Alastor’s eye twitching from where he’s still standing near the door. Lucifer seemed to have also noticed your boyfriend’s annoyance.

“By God Y/n, you look absolutely dashing today! Just the image of perfection!” Lucifer leans in closer to you, you can tell he’s only doing this to piss off Alastor, which seems like it’s slowly starting to work. Somehow though, Alastor kept his composure.

Then Lucifer pulled you into a hug. Just a regular hug, there was nothing inherently wrong with it, however, Alastor never has been able to tell right from wrong.

In a swift and fluid motion Alastor digs his claws into the back of your shirt and lifts you up out of Lucifer’s grasp as if you’re a kitten.

“A-Alastor!” You yelp as he carries you off wordlessly.

When you arrive to your shared bedroom he simply drops you onto the bed. Not harshly but certainly not gently either.

“Alastor what the fuck was that?!”

“That my dear, was me protecting you from sin itself,” he snarls.

Ohhh now you get it.

“Are you- are you jealous?” You ask, trying not to laugh while also a bit shocked.

“Jealous? No no darling, I don’t get jealous, I get possessive,” he smiles eerily.

“What’s the difference?”

He climbs onto the bed until he’s hovering over you.

“Jealousy is wishing for something others have…” he leans in and kisses your neck before pulling away.

“And possessiveness is protecting what’s already mine.” He bites at your neck just enough to leave a mark with a bit of blood.

“Alastor!” You squeak out.

“Shhh I won’t hurt you my darling~ I just need to make sure he knows you’re mine” he whispers in your ear while quickly stripping himself of his clothes.

Once you quickly realize what he’s insinuating you begin to strip yourself.

Once you’re both fully naked he pauses above you, looking down at you. You can almost see a sort of gentleness in his eyes for a split second.

“Hell, you’re beautiful my dear, such a handsome man,”

He retracts his claws and slides a single finger between your wet folds.

You shudder and moan his name weakly.

“My my, such a naughty boy, so wet over what? Another man flirting with you?” He almost growls out the last words.

“N-no that’s not it at all!-“ Your attempt at protesting failed when he starts fucking you at a fast pace without any warning, causing your words yo melt into moans.

“A-Alastor! F-fuck!”

He pounds into you at a brutal pace, like a crazed animal in mating season.

“Good boy~ moan my name louder. Let him know you’re mine, let them all know you’re mine.”

He reaches his fingers down to rub at your most sensitive spots while his lips connect with your neck, licking up the blood he had spilled earlier.

You continue to moan his name while clutching at the sheets. Alastor is so long you could feel his tip kissing your cervix over and over again.

“That’s it my precious boy, cum for me. Cum for me and only me” he continues to thrust into you. You can hear faint radio static, meaning he’s close as well.

“A-ALASTOR! FUCKKK!~” you scream out his name as you finish on his dick. You were definitely loud enough for others to hear, not that you care right now anyways.

“Fuck that’s a good boy~ I’m going to cum inside of you. Fill you full of my children. Claim- fuck! you as mine~!”

Alastor’s thrusts get a bit sloppier and the radio static gets louder before you feel an explosion of warmth inside of you.

After he comes down from his high he lies on your chest a moment to catch his breath. You run your fingers through his hair, cherishing these rare moments of vulnerability with him.

Master a while, he pulls out of you and lifts you up bridal style. Normally you’d protest, claiming you can walk on your own but, let’s be honest, no you can’t.

He carries you into your bathroom and with a snap of his fingers the bath in front of you is filled with warm water, rose petals, and candles.

A few minutes later you’re in the bath together, you’re half asleep and Alastor is washing your hair while humming some old timey song.

After the bath he dries you both with a snap of his fingers and gets you cozy in bed. You fall asleep pretty much immediately. As you sleep he admires you. He’d never admit it but he studies your features every night while you’re asleep.

He leans in and gives you a gentle forehead kiss before whispering,

“I’m so glad you’re mine,”

A/N: AHHHH I HOPE I DID OKAY?!?!?

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

the idea of a "not zombie plague" at the hotel.... what an effing comedy it could be...

thanks @sunsetcougar and @insert-funny-name-here69 for making me picture it XD

Vaggie comes back from Cannibal Town snuffling, no big deal, maybe it's all those feathered hats and fur stoles (sUSaN) or nice flowers or whatever. Vaggie goes to bed like normal, wakes up the next day GROANING, stiff and grumpy and shuffling around the hotel

Oh no!- Charlie the protective gf cries- what if there's some hellborn illness angels are weak towards??? It's time to physically carry Vaggie back to bed for rest (and keep doing that a few times until it sticks and she puts Razzle on guard at the door) (also print out and past their room's windows with pics of her own pleading pout so Vaggie won't try flying to freedom again) (and crashing again)

well this is kinda a weird and kinda funny for the rest of the hotel... until the Symptoms start to spread

sneezing is the first stage, the infection fun, a sign you've already got it, but everyone wants to blame Susan and Susan's specific perfectly matching (aka hostile harsh and annoying) choice of perfume lingering around the hotel, so they all (not vaggie) (vaggie thinks susan is The Coolest) just walk around sneezing and yelling "FUCK YOU SUSAN" afterwards instead of "bless you" or whatever

loss of appetite isn't that big a deal at first- between the guy with the drug addiction, his friend also with a drug addiction, an alcoholic, a tiny woman who can fill up on a single ritz cracker, a guy who eats rotting dear corpses, a pig who regularly gets his appetite spoiled with treats, an egg boi who doesn't know what he eats without his boss around to tell him, a goat demon stuffie hell bent on only consuming doughnuts, a demon princess too busy singing and scheming happiness plans to do things like SLEEp never mind EAT, her girlfriend who will care about stuff like hunger once everything else is taken care of and not a second before, an the KING of hell who hasn't even had an appetite for LIFE in ages.... no one notices the lack of eating going on at first, until it's Too Late

stiffness and aching of the joints has everyone complaining when it hits tho. Angel Dust is pissed it got in the way of his performance. Husk feels old again and gets grumpy when he gets called old man which makes him even MORE grumpy. Niffty enjoys it for 4 minutes until it throws off her rat kill rate. Alastor pretends to feel nothing but every time he moves there's a horrible CRACK from any and all bending joints and Cherri finds him stiffly stuck in a chair a least once. Cherri is the best off bc she mainly just feels like she got blown up and is used to it. Vaggie is having flash backs to the pain and weakness right after losing her first wings- Charlie wants to help but is hunched over so far she regularly rests her chin on Vaggie's head and doesn't have the energy to drag her back to bed. Lucifer is ACTUALLY hobbling around using his cane, snapping to false casualness whenever someone looks his way, secretly using a rubber duck as a stress ball. They grudgingly agree they can't blame this one on Susan (actually...) and migrate to the lobby as a group, trying to figure out what KIND of hell bug they've somehow caught.

Now is where the loss of appetite finally gets notices. Vaggie dragged out some food for the war council and NO ONE can stand even LOOKING at it. there are, however, at lot of OTHER looks going around....

Husk edges away from Angel, who's eying him even more hungrily than usual but without any of the sultriness. Niffty scuttling past gets his attention and makes his tail do the little pre-pound wiggle as he sinks his claws into the sofa to keep from FOR REAL pouncing. Cherri is staring at her bestie Angel Dust and gritting her many sharp teeth at the hallucination that he's limbs are actually full of drugs. Alastor's eye is twitching, the hotel gusts all having taken on the shape of deer carcasses from his point of view. Lucifer is fine until he looks over at Vaggie- he looks away instantly and shoves his ducky in his mouth to BITE, panics, yanks it free again, and when he looks down it's morphed into a stylized duck version of Vaggie with bite marks. Vaggie has gone dead quiet and is staring at her future father in law, clutching her spear, mentally roasting him over hellfire on a spit in her mind's eye.

Charlie sees all this happening like what is going ON guys, why are you all acting so... sooooo............Hm. Charlie wonders aloud if Razzle, Dazzle, and the Egg Boi have always had such a close resemblance to juicy little roast chickens?

Then Niffty bites Husk's tail and the hotel is overrun from the inside

it's not a ZOMBIE plague- it's CANNIBAL FLU- and now sinners are chasing sinners down the halls with knives and forks, Charlie is trying NOT to eat the little hellborn as they try and fail to nibble on her lanky limbs, and Vaggie and Lucifer-

there is a new hole in the hotel where Vaggie tackled her future dad in law through the roof and now anyone looking the hotel has great view of them both snarling, circling each other in the air, spitting out mouthfulls of feathers from successfully blocking each other's bites while failing to to grab any FLESH with their own

Thankfully Rosie had finally gotten wind of Vaggie leaving with a 'slight head cold' last time and waltzes over just in time to toss some of her best stock into the hotel, a fine selection of sinner, hellborn, and even some leftover angel steaks from the battle, smartly distracting the hotel crew from hunting and tearing into each other instead

One very upsetting but ENERGETIC meal later, the blankly traumatized (and blood spattered) hotel crew huddle in groups back in the over turned lobby, listening as Rosie assures them the worst is over and they should be good as gore by tomorrow morning!

Alastor politely informs Roise that the mention of gore at just that moment might not have been the BEST choice of words

right on cue, Husk starts making hairball noises, and everyone else looks suddenly sick

Vaggie sighs, patting her gf on the back as Charlie tearfully hugs Razzle after having had her jaw unhinged in preparation of swallowing him whole when Rosie made her timely arrival (Razzle forgives her, he was planning to try devouring her from the inside out or die trying) (meanwhile Charlie had put both Fatty Nuggets and the Egg Boi on a frying pan and was preparing to have a nice cozy ghibli-style family meal- of friendship. literally. of friends)

-alright, Vaggie gives in, fine. Just one time I'll say it too.... Who do we blame for all this?

SUSAN everyone growls

this reminds Rosie to pass out the "shove your groaning up your asses" cards Susan made for all of them, which are, of course, scented

Vaggie sneezes at the scent and there's a stampede as everyone not wildly in love with her tries to run and save themselves

cannibal flu. it puts the "i" in cannibal as in that's what it makes YOU

cannibals are immune to this party bc they would barely even notice if they had it, for them, it's just suddenly turning into picky eater for a few days until the craving is satisfied :3 sometimes with your next door neighbor but really, isn't that what neighbors are for~?

(charlie falls into bed that night, exhausted, only to look around at a strange chewing noise)

(it's vaggie. on the window seat, hunched over with wings huddled around herself, looking up frozen in the act of gnawing on lute's torn off and left behind arm)

Vaggie: ".... Susan sent it over for me, special."

Charlie: "Uh huh."

Vaggie: "I'm not sick anymore! I just, was kinda curious..."

Charlie: "Vaggie, I support you biting the arm of the woman who tore out your eye. And you look great smeared with angelic blood." (pouting) "....but can you be cannibal curious in the morning and snuggle with me now?"

Vaggie: (tossing lute's arm into the bathroom) "Always, sweetie."

Charlie: "Mmm gooood. Now kisses!"

Vaggie: "Shit wait, I should wash my mouth-"

Charlie: "Or not?"

Vaggie: "..not?"

Charlie: "I'm kinda curious too~"

and thus was Susan's cannibal propaganda successfully spread, by the power of gay love, and how hot the demon princess of hell thinks it is when her angel girlfriend is spattered with someone else's blood

[biapascal]

Nap.

Authors' Note: Good morning everyone ☕️🤎I wanted to write about Dad! Pedro for a while (please don't let this flop lmao)

Summary: Pedro loves his daughter Bianca, but he also loves acting, and as a single father trying to make it in the industry isn't easy.

Warnings: fluff <3

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

No matter how many times it happened, Pedro was never at peace after being rejected at an audition. This role would provide him with economic stability, and once again he had been cast against a younger, more attractive man.

The expenses were many: Bianca's schooling, babysitting and rent, plus extra purchases.

He could have borrowed, but his pride forbade it. Bianca had turned the room upside down, playing with dolls and making a lot of noise. Pedro tried to study the script for the next show in the living room, but the little girl kept cackling. The man sighed and rubbed his temples as Bianca rolled down the hall. Every day was like this: he would have liked to finish rehearsals with the other actors, but he had to return early to pick up his daughter from kindergarten.

Besides, for at least three months he could not afford to call the babysitter, so he would have no alternative for a while. "DAD!" He pretended not to hear her, but the little girl ran into the living room and jumped into his arms, crumpling the pages of the script. "Bianca! You can't jump on me like that!" he scolded her.

She giggled. "I'm serious, look what you've done” he showed her the script, and she lay on her stomach, her arm protruding from the sofa. Bianca was almost four years old and had given him a lot to do: she was a lively child, but at the same time shy. She followed him everywhere and had to cheer her on to greet others.

She was witty, creative, and had inherited a passion for movies; there were many evenings when Pedro would order a pizza and they would share it on the bed in front of the television, which would horrify any professional child educator. The truth was that he had no idea how to be a father on his own and relied on the actions that received the most positive feedback.

Bianca already had a strong and stubborn character, but he found it hard to take it out on her, and when it happened that she cried because of an ordinary sermon, he felt his heart clench and wished he could go back and apologize to her, even though it would not have been the appropriate thing to do.

Aesthetically, she was becoming a squashed copy of Elisa; the same nose covered with a sprinkling of freckles, the same dimples in the same position, the shape of the face, and even the facial expressions. It hurt.

Pedro had overcome the despair of abandonment and felt only anger.

"Honey?" Bianca raised her head lazily, fiddling with the rubber bands on her wrists. "I can't let Margaret stay with you for the afternoon this month, so I'm asking you to be good and come to the theater with me” he asked her softly. She smiled back and he softened by gently tousling her hair. The boys loved her, and when she arrived at the rehearsal, she stayed quietly on one of the chairs in the stalls, painting.

"Pedro, let's go over that line again," the man nodded. "So," he cleared his throat.

“Well, Horace? .... You are pale and trembling....

What do you say now? You must have convinced yourself

that it was more than our imagination." He concentrated. "I swear to God, I would never have believed it

without the physical, tangible evidence

of my eyes..." he waited for the approval of the theater director, who looked at him intently.

"Doesn't he look like the king?

" "As you yourself.

And his armor was the same armor

that the king wore when he clashed

with Norway; and the threatening countenance

was that of the king when, enraged,

jumped down from his sledge

the Poles, in the course of a dispute....

It's strange, very strange. He continued.

"Well, well," the director rubbed his hands together. "And bravo, my Horace, you finally got the character!" he exclaimed with satisfaction. Pedro smiled with a child's enthusiasm.

"Come on guys, go rest, it's late".

The actors and actresses took their things and Pedro noticed that Bianca had fallen asleep. He sighed and slowly picked her up, being careful not to wake her. "How good she is" complimented Lisa, one of the actresses. He smiled at her. "Hopefully, she’s a sleepy head” he chuckled softly. "Well, we are are having a drink” the woman informed him. "Oh, well” he pursed his lips in embarrassment. "You know, I'd love to, but..." he lowered his eyes to Bianca, who was sleeping peacefully in his arms. Lisa patted his shoulder. "Don't worry, I'll see you tomorrow” there was pity in her tone.

"Yes, tomorrow..."