#girth?? edging??? the fucking GRIME???

[ashiyn]

what the fuck was bdubs on during this stream

[gasolinerainbowpuddles]

𝕂𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕥𝕠𝕓𝕖𝕣 🎃💦 ∘₊✧ 𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝟟 ✧₊∘

|| ︶꒦꒷𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕥𝕠𝕓𝕖𝕣 𝕞𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥꒷꒦︶ | main masterlist ||

@absurdthirst's Kinktober 2023 Prompts

Day 7: Anonymous Sex, Nonconsensual, Somnophilia

𝐎𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬

| PAIRING(s): Joel x reader | RATING: explicit material | 18+  | WORD COUNT: 1k | CONTENT: established relationship, previous consent given but Joel still feels weird about it but not weird enough to stop| SYNOPSIS: Joel helps himself to you while you're asleep.

Joel tries to keep his breathing quiet, but it’s so damn difficult when you’re pressed up against him like this. He knows you’ve said you wouldn’t care to be woken up to him fucking you, but you never said anything about him purposefully trying to make it all the way through without waking you. Were they one in the same? Was this some sick perversion of the consent you’d given him? No, surely you wouldn’t feel violated to know your body had served his needs even in the depths of your slumber.

You let out a little sigh, and Joel realizes his hand has crept below your waistband as he was lost in his thoughts of shame and doubt. It was an encouraging sound – not that he needed much to push him firmly into the belief that this was okay – and he took your unknowing lead, dipping his hand lower. You squirm a bit but have nowhere to go other than pressed further into Joel. The sleeping bag wasn’t very spacious, but it was better than freezing your ass off every night.

Joel dips his face into your hair. It’s a mixture of earth and sweat and grime. It makes him harder. His fingertips touch the edge of the gathered wet between your folds. You make another soft, sweet sound. You liked this. You didn’t know it yet, consciously, but you liked this. He inches his fingers down further, suppressing noises of arousal when he feels the warm slip of your cunt begging him for more.

Your hips roll back, and for a moment Joel thinks he’s woken you. Your head tilts back, lolling aimlessly to the side, and he feels relief wash over him: you’re still asleep.

He watches your perky tits rise and fall with gentle, unrushed breaths. He wishes he could mash your nipple between his fingernails just to hear your delightful yelps of pain and pleasure singing together, but he doesn’t know how to do it without waking you. He settles for rubbing the pad of his thumb against one of them and smirks to himself when you make a pitiful little whimper.

Your effusive response to his sexual provocations was nothing new. The surrender of your body and mind to his touch and whims was a delightsome exploration for you both, but the idea of having you – of taking you – when you’re at your most vulnerable, helpless, nothing but unconscious automatic response to him…. well, it was something Joel had wanted for a long time. To see if you would give all of yourself to him, trusting him so deeply that your devotion would run on autopilot if you weren’t at the helm.

 With agonizing restraint, Joel moves the garments on your lower half down your thighs. It feels like hours to get it tugged down to just above your knees, but now his patience has paid off as you lie asleep and half undressed for him. You shiver a bit at the loss of layers, and Joel pulls you against him again. You mumble something in your sleep and go still again after a few moments of inaction from Joel.

His cock almost feels painful and throbbing at having you so close but so far away. He knows he can’t fuck your hole without waking you. Even if you’re still wet from tonight’s earlier exploits, the girth and stretch would rouse you. Joel has to settle for sliding himself between the clamp of your thighs and folds. He eases his hips back and forth and listens to your sweet murmurings, none the wiser of him using your body solely for his gratification.

There’s a thrill in it that Joel doesn’t quite understand but responds to nonetheless. He isn’t sure if he wants you to wake up, to discover him fucking himself between whatever wet wedge of flesh he can find in the cradle of your legs. He isn’t sure if he’d want you to be surprised or aroused or confused or maybe all of those at once and more.

His breaths are coming faster as he fucks into your folds. With wild abandon, he starts jerking his hips as fast as his body commands, spurred on by the mental image of you waking with his cum dried all over you with no recollection of how it got there. You begin to stir at the jostle of his body against yours as he chases his release. Joel wants to finish before your eyes flutter open, wants this fantasy to be complete, to have the end it deserves.

You moan at the catch of his tip against your clit as he rocks against you. You say his name, a slurred version of it, still half asleep and delightfully disoriented.

When you make a high pitch moan that conveys all the muddled bliss and half lucid awareness sloshing around in your brain, Joel can’t hold off any longer and pumps himself through his release. It spurts and spills between your legs, your folds, into the area of the sleeping bag in front of your body.

“Joel?” It’s a whiny moan that perfectly caps the experience for Joel. With a heavy huff, he snaps his hips one last time, completely emptied of his spend.

You take a deep pull of air through your nose and move around a little bit, now coming back to consciousness. You pause when you feel the sticky slip of his orgasm smeared and pooled all over your body. It only takes a moment for you to realize what happened. You smile.

“Couldn’t’a juz waited fer me tuh wake up,” you slur sleepily.

Joel grunts weakly in response, still floating from the high of his orgasm. You push your body against him and snuggle closer.

“Put it inside’uh me?” you yawn.

Joel kisses your temple and pushes his softening cock inside your pussy. You both groan at the feeling of him parting your walls. He wraps you up in his arms and nuzzles against your neck.

“G’night,” you mumble, already falling back asleep.

“Night,” he murmurs back, wholly satisfied and ready to dip into slumber alongside you.

[denim-devil]

Focus | R.G

Prompt List

12. “Keep your eyes on me.”

Summary - Rick can’t keep his hands to himself…or his eyes.

A/N - Enjoy! I don’t really know if this any good but it’s RICK GRIMES smut…and that in itself is- UGH

──────. • ☆:*.☽ .* :☆ﾟ• . ──────

Everything about this had Rick riled up, red in the face, sweat drenched locks, slippery skin, all of it contributed to the intimacy between the two of you.

His toned chest pressing into your back gave you the heads up to still, allowing Rick to use his hips, rolling into your backside, the girth of his cock dragging against your walls as if it belonged there…as if it was a part of you.

“That’s it…that’s it sweetheart, nice and easy”

His words were like honey, soft yet with a rough undertone, raspy in some ways. Shivers ran along your spine once you settled into the new position, which had allowed Rick to reach depths unknown.

His plump lips press against your neck, lingering just enough for you to turn. You're met with dark blue eyes, filled with want, need…lust, everything you were feeling too.

“R-Rick”

You plead, hands searching his body, trailing down his back, nails slightly clawing at the soft, smooth skin, travelling up to rake through his thick locks.

Rick nods, understanding what you need, what you want. His beard tickles your neck, the spikey feeling causing red blotches to cover it entirely.

“Fuck…such a good boy”

He murmurs, nose pushing into the back of your ear as he began to pick up his pace, his balls tapping your cheeks slightly with each thrust.

Rick liked…no, Rick loved this, loved you. The way you obliged to his every need, to his every move. You flowed easily together, knowing when and how you wanted it.

Rick had never experienced this type of intimacy, this closeness. Nuzzling into your neck, his sighed, continuous breathy moans surpassing his lips, breaching the shell of your ear.

He stilled, his whole body weight resting against your back. You pushed yourself backwards lightly, now closer, Rick was able to slide his hand over to your hip, holding you to his pevlis.

“Keep your eyes on me.”

You trained your eyes on his own, now noticing the darkness that clouded his deep, blue orbs. His thrusts were beginning to grow sloppy, sloppy and quick, chasing after the bliss he so desired.

His smile grows, flashing his pearly whites. He looked perfect this way, his cheeks rosey, flushed due to the pace he set. You clung to him still, using your strength to bounce back, joining him half way.

“Shit- fuckin’ close”

“Fuck me Rick…”

His words became breathier, more silent, more pleasure induced as he chased his orgasm. Pressing your foreheads together, Rick sank against you, finally reaching his peak, as you did your own, pushing both of yourself over the edge.

His hands fall into the grass, fisting the dry ground. You share moans, breath mingling, you dip your head enough to latch your lips together, secreting his profanities.

Load after load, twitch after twitch, you both finally settled one another, everything was still…it was peaceful…after everything, for once.

[necros-writing-stuff]

He held you down. Wrists pinned above your head with one of his hands, the other wrapped around your throat. His hips snapped into your's with little care or concern for your comfort, the harsh pace and rough movements forcing lewd moans and whoreish cries from your throat. You thought you would have lost your voice after he fucked your throat with his massive cock, yet you sang for him still.

The fine sheets underneath you would surely be ruined by morning, stained with the proof of your virginity and his lust. The wet slapping of skin against skin mingled with the sound of the heavy wooden bedpost hitting the wall. Every harsh thrust inside you making the bed shake, you distantly wondered if the wall would be okay. The wall was the least of your concerns now though.

You had never considered yourself special. Having grown up an orphan, living on the streets and just trying to survive. When the king had come to the city you lived in, you thought nothing of it. Your meeting was accidental. Your friend, Robin, had been tending to an injured dog in the streets. It was dangerous and you told her that, told her to move away from the horse-drawn traffic. She refused, too afraid of further injuring the mutt.

When the king's carriage came barreling down the road, the dog, weak as it was, scampered off to safety. It was by a miracle you weren't killed, the horseman stopping just in time. That said, you knew you were in trouble. King Bailey had a reputation for cruelty and a hate for orphans. Just your luck. When he stepped out of his carriage, he was furious. His gaze quickly found you and Robin.

You were pretty sure you were going to die when he approached you. Robin tucked herself behind you, whimpering apologies.  He sneered at your shaking form when you tried to explain yourself, taking the blame for Robin. You froze when a gloved hand squeezed your cheeks together, effectively shutting you up. He scraped some of the dirt and grime from your face.

"Disgusting." He snapped, releasing your face to shake the filth from his leather gloves. Then he got back in his carriage, and as you and Robin scurried off, he left along with his entourage. You thought you dodged a bullet, but the next day the caretaker got a letter and a large sack of gold. You were bathed, forced into new clothes and sent off to the castle to meet with the king.

Bailey squeezed your throat, cutting off your air supply and bringing your thoughts back to him. Back to now. You weakly struggled in his grasp, legs kicking out in an attempt to knock him off of you. It only served to change the angle at which his cock violated your tight heat, allowing it to hit a spot inside you that had you keening even as black spots formed at the edge of your vision. It was then that he released your throat, moving his hand to your hip so he could keep you in place.

The brutal pace he set against your sweet spot, mixed with the quiet sounds and muffled swears of the usually stoic, hateful king had that unfamiliar coil in your stomach snapping. A fiery euphoria momentarily whiting out your vision as your body went taught, back arching and your sex convulsing around the king's impressive girth. He continued using your body for his pleasure even as you climaxed.

He had made it explicitly clear when you arrived what he intended to do with you, even if you weren't sure he was being truthful. When you arrived, you were fed, bathed again and dressed in a sheer nightgown that left little to the imagination. Then you were led to the king's chambers. He roughly shoved you on to his bed and began stripping you.

"Listen carefully, I'll only say this once," He practically growled.

"I'm going to rape you. I don't care about you, or your feelings." Bailey tore the nightgown from your body, ripping it in his hands.

"I'm going to ruin your body every night until you produce an heir for me. If you don't behave, I'll kill you here and now." Little things here and there had pointed to the truth being something else entirely. He was intent on preparing you, stretching you on his fingers and kissing you like you were his lover. The sweet kisses were contrasted by the way he explored your chest, fingers pinching and pulling at your sensitive nipples ; mouth sucking and biting your buds and the breasts around them. He drew blood in more than one spot.

A painful burning in your thighs brought you back down to Earth again. Bailey had folded you in half, knees pressed to your shoulders. Your hands, now free and aware, flew to his biceps. Too afraid to push him away, you simply gripped them, nails digging into his skin. He was grunting louder now, his rhythm lost as he neared his end. You cried out when he slammed inside you one final time, grinding his seed into your fertile body as he came hard. His whole body was stiff, save for his hips that rutted into you. When he finally finished, you expected him to fall to the bed beside you and sleep. Instead, he pulled out, flipped you over and thrust back inside your now over sensitive sex.

Over the coming weeks, inspite of being ravaged nightly and through a little snooping and skulduggery, you learned two important things. You were from a noble house, one that had been close to the royal family and Bailey had been in love with your mother; who you bore a striking resemblance to. She had gone missing when she and Bailey were about your age. You didn't remember either of your parents, so you doubted there was a happy ending for her. You were smart enough to put the pieces together, and the thought terrified you.

Bailey saw you as a replacement for your late mother, and intended to keep you as such.

(- anon 🚩 Trying a new way of story telling. Also, using google docs first so I don't loose my shit.)

O-oh 😳

King Bailey, with total complete power and the ability to be the absolute worst is the shit.

This new way of story telling is very good, 🚩.

I could imagine him threatening all of the maids to keep their mouths shut around you. That the nobles should never ever share what they know. You're to be kept isolated and reliant on him for company until an heir is made. Then you'll raise them while he rules.

[sherrybaby14]

Thor’s Kitten

Request:  Hi can I request a dark!thor fic? Something where reader falls asleep in his bed(I imagine it’s the biggest and most comfy and unused cuz it’s Thor). She doesn’t know he’s coming tho and when he finds her he thinks she’s like a welcome back gift. So he uses her until she wakes up. Thank you!

Warnings: Rough sex, Dark!Thor,  Non-con (Please do not read if this offends you), turns into dub con.  

Pairing:  Thor x reader

Words:  2500

A/N:  this is FILTHY!!

It was a stupid chore.  Changing the linens on every royal’s room in the palace even if they hadn’t slept there the night before.  Here you found yourself changing the sheets on Prince Thor’s bed for the twelfth day in a row when he was no where to be found, probably fighting some important battle.  You doubted he was even on Asgard.  

You dropped the clean set of sheets on the chair next to the bed and looked at the flawless mattress.  The gold and red comforter and satin pillow cases looked so inviting.   It was large enough you had to get on your knees and crawl across the thing to get the linens down so you were aware how soft it was.  

A yawn left your mouth.  This was your final task of the day.  You looked down at your blue dress.  You were leaving here to meet up with friends and already changed out of the maid’s uniform.  Managed to freshen up your hair and makeup too.    

You changed early since the servant’s rooms were on the far side of the palace and you didn’t want to walk back after doing this meaningless task.  Nobody was expecting to see you again the rest of the night.  You told your friends you weren’t coming, you could still surprise them a few hours late.  There really was no need to rush.  

Besides, the bed looked so inviting.   Another yawn left and you fell forward, hugging an untouched pillow, spreading out over the massive piece of furniture.  Just a little cat nap, you told yourself as you drifted off.  

~~

“That was a battle for the ages.”  Loki took off his helmet as they walked into the palace.  

“Another victory for Asgard.”  Thor ran his fingers through his locks.  “One that must be celebrated.”  

He looked to his comrades.  They all looked exhausted.  Lady Siff shook her head.  

“None of you want to play?”  Thor turned to look at them, holding his arms up.  “Surely you have the spirit for celebration brother?”  

“I’m having a kitten sent to your room.”  Loki laughed.  “That way you will always have something to entertain yourself, since none of us can keep up.”  

“One that scratches!”  Fandral added in.  “Claws at our leader’s eyes.”  

“And plays games, keeps Thor on his toes when they’re not biting at them.”  Siff laughed.  

“Of course!”  Loki clapped.  “Thor always benefits from a challenge.  A kitten eager for a lesson.  The mighty Thor will have the poor thing meowing at his feet by the end of the night.”  

The group exploded with chuckles and Thor shrugged.  

“Tomorrow night then.”  Thor pointed at them.  “There will be a feast.”  

He was greeted with forced enthusiasm and shook his head as he spun around.  The warriors needed to learn to let loose a little.  

~~

When Thor arrived at his rooms he took in the scent.  Home.  Maybe the group was right to spend the evening relaxed.   Besides, there was a tint of himself in his nose.  He needed a long hot shower.  He didn’t bother lighting his room as he went straight for the wash.  

The hot water did him good, as he washed away the blood and grime on his body.  When he stepped out he wrapped a deep red towel around his hips.   He should be more tired than his comrades, but his blood was still pumping.  

Maybe he would dress and leave the walls.  Find a way to wear out the adrenaline coursing his veins.  He stepped into the main room and lit the area.  He was heading to his wardrobe when he heard a soft nose from the bed.  

His eyes went wide when he saw her.  

“Brother.”  Thor shook his head as he cracked his jaw.  “You’ve outdone yourself.”    

A kitten in the bed.  One who would scratch and claw.  The night just took an interesting turn.

~~

You were on a beach, your toes in the sand.  The wind was in your hair and there was a picnic next to you.  The sand started to wave.  Was water coming?  

“Good evening Kitten.”

The voice was to real.  You glanced around.  You were alone on the beach.  The sand started to give way and you tumbled.  

Your eyes popped open and you looked around, confused.  Where was the water?  The clear skies?  

“You’re quite the actress.”  The deep focus focused your thoughts.  “How did Loki acquire you on such short notice?”  

“What?”  You looked at the face next to you in bed and your eyes widened as you scooted away.  “Your highness.  I apologize.  This is so unprofessional of me.”  

You were going to lose your job.

“A Kitten who wants to play games.”  Thor reached out and grabbed your waist, yanking you back to him like you weighed nothing.  “I have a feeling you will keep me entertained until all hours of the morning even without them.”  

You pushed your hands to his chest and tried to scoot away.  Unsure what he was talking about, or why he was touching you this way.  Your sleep was so deep you couldn’t quite comprehend anything but embarrassment.  

“Please don’t tell anyone.”  You turned to the ceiling, wanting to roll across the bed and stand, but Thor rolled you onto your back and pinned you with one hand.  “I fell asleep.  I didn’t mean to, I mean that is a lie.  I did not think you would return.”  

“So the theme is sleeping beauty.”  Thor moved so he was on top of you from behind, his hands ran up your back and grabbed your wrists, moving them above your head as he inhaled your neck.  “I guess I should awake you with a kiss.”  

His lips met your neck and your eyes flashed open.  

“No.” You tried to buck underneath him.  “I am a maid. This is not a game.  I fell asleep in your bed.  I apologize.”  

“If you wanted to role play maid you should’ve at least warn the outfit.”  Thor sighed and rolled off your back.  “Breaking character already Kitten?  I am a bit disappointed.”  

You didn’t quite understand what he was talking about, but got the general gist and started crawling toward the end of the bed, eager to escape this embarrassment.

“But all is forgivable.”  A hand was on your ankle yanking you back before you made it to the edge.  

“NO! Please.”  You were spun on to your back. “This is a misunderstanding.  I can explain everything!”

“Drop the maid angle.”  Thor’s hands went to the straps of your dress.  “Your prince desires to wake up his beauty with much more than a kiss.”  

What the fuck?  You blinked as he tugged on your straps, destroying the dress like it was nothing.  

“Stop!”  You went to cover yourself, but the blonde grinned down at you as he shredded your outfit.  “STOP!”  

You tried to twist and turn away, but his hands were too powerful and his thighs gripped you in place.   So you brought your arms to your chest to cover yourself while Thor did away with the rest of your clothing, leaving you bare to the man.  

“This is a mistake.”  Your chest started to heave.  “An error!  Please you must stop! Let me leave!”  

“Now now Kitten.”  Thor’s fingers ran up your arms until they grabbed your wrists, spreading you for his view.  “Let me enjoy my victory.”  

Heat covered your body as your mind caught up to what was happening.  You struggled against his grip, but all it did was make your chest bounce for the heir to the throne.   He responded by licking his lips and dropping his head.  

You cried out as he sucked a nipple into his mouth.  

“Stop!”  You tried to wiggle into the mattress, but his tongue worked you like an expert, flicking you into a hard peak.

He moved his mouth to your other breast, and the air felt cool against your hard pebble, but Thor dropped your wrist and began tweaking at it.  At first you moaned, grateful the pressure was back to your teased nub.  

Then you realized you had a free hand.  You started shoving at him, but he was like a wall.  You tried to slap, pull his hair, claw at him.  But he kept sucking and pinching you.  

“STOP!”  You dug your nails as hard as you could into his shoulder.  

That elicited a grunt from the man who lifted his head and lost attention on your chest.  There was an electricity in his eyes as he glared down at you.

“I was warned you would scratch.”  He tightened his grip on your wrist to the point you whimpered.  “But NONE OF THAT!  You will behave yourself Kitten, do you understand?”  

The boom of his voice shook you to your core.  Hot tears on your cheeks, fear in your soul.  You responded without thinking, nodding your head yes.

“Good Kitten.”  Thor smiled and his grip lessened. “Don’t worry, I’ll have you purring by the end of the night.”  

His head dipped again.  You winced as he resumed his attention on your breasts.  Flickering his tongue and teasing his teeth on one while he kneaded the other.  

You were too scared and confused to react, but your body had other ideas as you began to rub your thighs together, hoping to make a friction between your legs.  What was wrong with you?  Why were you enjoying this?

“Very good Kitten.”  Thor lifted his head, smiling.  “You deserve a reward for that.”

He went back on his haunches, letting you go as he dropped the towel.   A massive godly cock sprung forward.  Your pussy clenched at the sight, but your brain kicked into gear.

“No, no no,” You turned and started to crawl away.

“Here I was going to let you have a lick.”  Thor grabbed your hips before he pushed your head into the mattress and snaked his other arm around your hips, holding your ass in the air.  “But it appear my Kitten is eager for more.”  

“Please.  You’re too big.”  You gripped the sheets, trying to pull away from him.  “I can’t.”  

“Oh you can.”  You felt the head of his cock run up and down your slit.  “And you’re so nice and wet for me.  Good girl.” ��

He began to press inside.  Your muscles struggled to accommodate his girth.  Again the tears came back.  

“PLEASE STOP!”  You were just a maid.  How did the happen.  “PLEASE.”

Your shoulder started to shake as you sobbed into the bed.   To your surprise he did, not pressing into you further.  He leaned over you and found your ear.  

“I promise, I care about your pleasure as much as my own.  You’re doing a great job by the way.  Loki really outdid himself with you.”  He kissed your cheek.  “You’re so convincing.  But lets continue with the game.”  

Your head was spinning.  A game? Loki?  What the hell was he talking about.  

His fingers stroked the top of your pussy and then found your pleasure.  Thor pushed down on your clit and started to rub, going in a circle, then up and down.  You squealed in response and your hips bucked backward, taking him further in causing you to gasp.

“Eager now Kitten?”  Thor let out a booming laugh.  “Don’t worry.  I’m here to take care of you.”  

Thor began to press down.  He was splitting you in half.  You let out an other worldly shriek and tried to bite down into the mattress.

“If you need to bite.”  His fingers grabbed your chin as he turned your head.  “These will do.”  

Two of his fingers slid into your mouth.  You didn’t know why but you found yourself moaning against them.   His other hand worked your clit further while he stretched you with his cock.  You found yourself sucking of them, like some safety blanket as he speared you.  

“Very good Kitten.”  Thor’s voice elicited a response in your body you weren’t expecting.  “We’re almost there.”  

Your vision started to blur.  The pleasure and the pain and the softness in your mouth as you sucked at his digits.  Sweat started to erupt all across your body.  

“Perfection.”  Thor’s pelvis touched your rear.  “You’re doing so well. I told you you could take me.”  

He leaned over and kissed your shoulder before spreading his thighs.  

“Let’s make you purr.”  He pulled out slightly, it created a strange ache and burn in your core.  

Then he went right back in.  You didn’t know if you wanted him gone or were happy he was back.  Before you could decide his fingers began to dance.  Changing the level of pressure of your now swollen bud, rubbing, stroking, light, hard.  

You found yourself sucking on his finger in response to your confusion, trying to pulsate at the same pace he was, but unable to keep up.  

“Such a good Kitten.”  Thor was now slamming in and out you.  

How had you not noticed?  Did it matter?  You started to rock against him, your body now desperate for his return.  

The coil in your center started to form.  Your vision going blurry as every effort you were capable of focused on one thing.  The sounds of your body slamming into each other, the taste of him in your mouth.  You wrapped your fingers around his wrist, needing him more than the bed or escape right now.  

“Prrrrr…” Thor let out a cat noise and your body shook in response.  

You were getting closer and closer, making unintelligible noises around his fingers.   He let out a grunt.  Lightning.  That was the only way you could describe it.  Your body started to convulse, more energy built up than you thought possible.  

It burst, like a thunderous roar.  Your veins flooded with him, you cried and moaned forgetting his fingers as you went limp under him.  

He held you close, pressing down on your clit as he joined you in release, flooding your womb with his seed.  You struggled for breath as he fell on top of your back.   Both of you struggling to regulate.  

Sleep started to return when SMACK!  Your ass exploded with pain while Thor’s member slipped out.  

“You did so well this first round.”  He pulled your to his chest as he laid on his back.  “But I was promised you’d be sleeping by my feet at the end of the night.  And you know, I am up to the challenge.”  

Yet again you had no clue what he was talking about, but you no longer cared.  You just wanted him to make you purr again.  

[notyetneedcoffee]

21 & 80 with capsicle?? SSJSJSH thank you!!

Sorry for the delay, I’ve been fighting the crud. Maybe that’s why this came out a little soft… still smut ridden, don’t get me wrong… but still soft. 

Take Care of You

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warning: NSFW, +18, Smut

Damn you hated it when he bled. Ripping open the pressure dressing with your teeth kept the string of profanities from escaping. You tore his uniform open wider, exposing the gash over his rib cage. The white of bone and rubbery band of intercostal muscle peeked out from the gash. You washed it down with saline but didn’t bother with a clotting agent before pressing on the bandage.  

Steve grunted as you pressed down hard with one hand and wrapped an arm around him to wind the bandage about his torso. “That hurts.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’ll heal faster from this than I will from the scrape on my shoulder.” Even though his injury made you sick, and you knew it had to hurt like hell, the statement was still true.  

“You’re injured? Where?” The Captain’s bloody hands came up to your arms, trying to turn you around.  

“I’m okay.”

“Let me see.” Steve ordered.

“Let me finish.” You countered.

His strong hands physically shifted you so he could see the tear in your suit and the bloody scraped flesh of your shoulder. Snagging up a handful of four-by-fours, he pressed them against your wound. “Y/N!”

The movement pulled free the yet to be secured bandage at his side, blood freely flowing again down his side. You reached for the bandage as it unraveled. “Dammit, Steve!”

“Get a room!”

A chorus of deep laughs erupted from the other side of the jet. Barton, Wilson and Barnes watched the two of you wrestle for the ability to take care of each other. Sam shook his head, “Y’all just need to make out and get over it.”

Steve went stock still. His eyes locked on a spot on the floor, jaw working furiously against the urge to retort. His one hand still held the dressings against your shoulder, but he no longer tried to look at it. At least it allowed you to secure the pressure bandage properly.  

“Stop it.” He said under his breath.

“No. You’re bleeding.” You whispered back, softening. “Why do you let them get to you? You don’t get this combative with Nat.”

“She’s different.” His eyes remained locked on the floor.

“We’re coming in to the safe house, kiddos.” Tony announced from the pilot’s seat. “Cap, you need a medic?”

“No.” He sat up straighter with a wince.  

“Bullshit.” Your mumbled response had him glaring at you.  

“I just need a hot shower and a little time.” Steve finished.  

Stark looked a little apprehensive. He’d seen the vitals readout on the Captain before exiting his suit. He knew it was a pretty significant wound, too. “Sure thing. Why don’t you take the big suite. Shower’s all tricked out with the best stuff.”

As everyone exited the carrier you felt a hand at your arm. Tony breathed in your ear. “He’s gonna tear himself in half getting out of that uniform by himself.  Go help him, even if he fights you.”

You intended to do just that, regardless of Stark’s encouragement. Turning the corner toward the bedrooms, Bucky’s considerable girth took up the hall. He watched Steve disappear into the room at the end. Turning sideways to slip past him, he shot you a look.

“Not a word.” You warned. Thankfully, the corner of his mouth just tipped up and he turned away.

Not bothering to knock, you slipped inside. A groan came from the bathroom. Peeking around the corner, you saw Steve sitting on the edge of a very big soaking tub slowing trying to reach down to his boots.  

“Gonna let me help you with that, or you still going to be a jerk about it?”  

“Y/N,” He practically whined. “What are you-“

“I’m helping you.” Without permission, you peeled off you ruined jacket and knelt in front of him to unstrap his boots.  

Steve momentarily forgot about the pain, watching you before him. Breast held firmly in a sports bra. Your hair pulled free of your braid, some sweat slicked to your skin. Dirt and grime marred your face and hands. A bloody, deep scrape oozed on your right shoulder blade. You were beautiful.  

“Come on, Steve. Stand up.” When he did, you reached for the fasteners along his torso.  

Large hands shoved yours away. “Don’t”

“Steve.”

“No.” 

“I’m going to help you.”  

“Don’t.” He pushed you away again.

“Steve Rogers.” Fists pounded into your hips. “Do that again and I will spank you!”

His blue eye rounded in surprise just before he burst out laughing. “Ha! Ow. Ow. Oh, crap. Ouch. Okay, you win. Point taken.”

“Why are you so stubborn?” Gently you peeled the torn outer armor off. Deciding the undershirt was a loss anyway, you sliced it open with your tactical knife rather than make him lift his arms.  

Standing there naked from the waist up, barefoot, and holding the bloodied bandage to his side with one hand. He swept loose hairs from your face. “I should be taking care of you, not the other way around.”

“You took the brunt of that blast. So, you did take care of me.” Came your soft answer.

He seemed lost in the memory for a moment. Only to be startled as you kicked off your boots and unbuckled your belt. “Y/N, what are doing?”

“We’re getting cleaned up.”

“What?”

Kicking off you pants, now standing before him in just practical uniform underwear, you fought back nerves that rivaled those before a battle. These were different, made you feel more vulnerable, but you knew you were doing the right thing.  

“You’re going to let me take care of you and I’m going to let you take care of me. For once, we’re not going to fight about it. For once, we’re just going to let it be okay.” Your fingertips brushed across the skin of his abs. “I think if we can do that, just this once, we may not want to stop.”

The muscles in his jaw worked for a moment before his eyes softened and he nodded. One handed, he unfasted the buckle of his uniform pants. Turning the water on, you adjusted the various shower heads to a gentle wash and a comfortable temperature. Back still to Steve, you stripped of the remainder of your clothes.  

He breathed slowly through open lips, eyes drinking you in. When you pushed his pants over his hips, Steve’s eyes drifted closed.  Your hands drifted over his strong thighs. As you knelt before him, your hands guided his feet out of his pants. Steve held out his hand to help you to your feet.  

Even battered and bloody, you’d never seen anyone more magnificent.  

Leading him under the spray of warm water, you grabbed the washcloth and soap. Steve stood still, eyes closed as you wiped away the evidence of the battle away. The tension melted away, leaving him sighing under your touch.  

“Steve,” you touched the hand holding the bandage. “How’s your wound?”

He gingerly pulled his hand away. It was still gaping and weeping, but already stitching together. He tossed the soaked bandage in the corner of the shower. Pale red trails danced down his hip, as the water washed away the clotted blood.  

“Amazing.” You breathed. “Couple days and there won’t even be a scar.”

“My turn.” He took the washcloth from you, soaping it up again. His hands trailed over your shoulders, down your back, across your hips. Steve cleansed your body with care. A content sigh escaped your lips. “Sweetheart,” He moved your hair to the side. “You’ve got debris in your wound. I need to wash it out.”

“Okay.” You turned into the tile wall, leaning forward so you were against the solid surface. “Do what you need to.”

Using the handheld sprayer, Steve washed out the debris with water and gentle fingers. You breathed through the stinging pain. Finally, his fingers trailed over your arms. You felt his lips touch the back of your neck. Sighing back into him, you felt Steve’s chest against your back. His arms came around your waist.  

“Come on. Let’s get this bandaged up.” He nuzzled your ear.

Rinsing off one last time before stepping out, you pulled out the well stocked trauma kit from under the sink. You dried the area around his wound, taping a bandage in place. Steve turned you around, dressing your wound next. In the mirror your saw the weariness in his eyes as he worked.  

“Can we go to bed? Just for a while?”  

“Yeah,” Steve took your hand. “I’d like that.”

Pulling back the covers and climbing into bed, you instinctively curled around one another. Feeling his bare legs wrap around yours, his heat soaking through to your bones, you’d wanted this for so long. It felt better than you’d ever imagined.  

His hand drew circles over your hip, stirring a need for something other than sleep. Nuzzling your nose into his neck, Steve pulled you tighter. Your lips found his, soft and full. His tongue slid along yours, deepening the kiss.

Steve’s hands became more insistent, pulling your leg over his hip, exploring your skin, your breast. You moaned into his mouth. His arousal pressed into your hip. He nipped at your lips. “God, Y/N, I need you.”

“I’ve wanted to tell you that for months.” You grinned against his lips. His smile morphed into a gasp as your hand wrapped around his cock, stroking him. Pushing him flat on his back, you laid a trail of opened mouth kisses across his chest and abdomen.  

Steve’s breath hitched, his fingers raking through your hair, as your tongue ran from the base of his dick to the sensitive tip. You took him into your mouth, sucking deep. A low moan escaped his chest. Wetness flooded between your legs. He felt, tasted, so good. Drawing such sinful noises from him, turning him on so much, felt amazing.  

“Fuck, sweetheart.” Before long Steve pulled at you, “Come here.” bringing your face to his, his kissed you hard, messy, desperate. He rolled you onto your back, hand dipping low fingers sweeping through your folds, gliding across your clit. “So wet.”

His mouth pulled at your sensitive nipple, causing your back to arch. Steve kissed his way down your body. Fingers slipped into your cunt, stroking firmly. You panted, mewing, feeling the delicious tension grow. When his mouth fell on your clit, sucking and lapping, you cried out. “Holy shit!”

Steve happily hummed against your sensitive nerves, sending shivers up your spine. His fingers curled against the perfect spot and you clenched. The tremors started deep in your core.  Your breath came in pants. “Yes.” He purred sucking hard at your clit.  

“Fuck!”  

He helped you ride out your climax, stroking, kissing, tasting. Crawling up your body, painting you with tongue and teeth, Steve made his way to capture your mouth. You tasted yourself on his tongue, felt the head of his cock nudge your cunt, and your fingers dug into his ass.  

Pulling him into you, you breathed his name. “God, Steve.”

Groaning, Steve buried himself deep inside you. The feeling of stretch, the fullness, the weight of him, overwhelming. He began to move. Bodies touching as much as possible, Steve’s mouth latched to the skin below your ear. You were drowning in his scent, his taste, the sound of him.  

Moving faster, the need building. Steve pushed up on his arms, slamming into you harder. Bed rocking, skin slapping, a stream of profanity pouring from his lips, Steve lost himself in you. “Oh, shit. Baby. So, fucking good.”

Your hips tipped up, and with one hand he pushed your thigh to your chest. His cock hitting your g spot hard. A primal groan tore from your throat, another orgasm hitting you fast and hard. As you shook, flooding, Steve’s hips snapped erratically as he followed you.  

Lowering himself to take your mouth, he kissed you thoroughly before rolling to his uninjured side. You curled around him, bodies still hot and breath still heavy. Steve peppered kisses into your hair. You sighed.

He laughed lightly, “If this is taking care of each other, then we should have been doing this for months.”

“You know, Sam is going to hit you with the biggest ‘I told you so’ ever.” You laughed.

He closed his eyes, grinning widely. “So worth it.”  

[pokeasleepingsmaug]

Forced bedsharing with IVAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Alright here it is and since I have lots of vicious, insane Ivar feels after that episode, it’s not very nice.

TW: mild dub con, hate fucking, sex as punishment, love/hate relationship

“Do you really think that’s going to work?” You ask, exasperated, watching Ivar trying to fit the blade of a knife between the door and its frame to lift the locking bar on the outside of the door. The blade was too wide though, and he was growling and cursing as he tried to force it through anyway.

“Shut up and check the window,” Ivar ordered, and you crossed your arms over your chest.

“I already did. The castle’s built on the top of a cliff. We climb out the window and tumble to an inglorious death on sharp rocks.” Ivar turned to glare at you, a look of pure rage on his face, and you had to fight the urge to remind him this was his fault.

“This is all your fault,” Ivar huffed, rolling his jaw in frustration as he glowered around the room. You only snorted and kicked off your boots, pointedly ignoring him as you climbed into the single small bed in the center of the room. “What do you think you are doing? You sleep on the floor, shieldmaiden! I am your commander!”

“I saved your life!” You remind him hotly, and this stops him short for a moment. “I’m sleeping in the bed. I saved your life.”

“And if you’d just let them kill me, we wouldn’t now be captives!” You could feel your mouth flop open in sheer disbelief. There’s no reasoning with the youngest son of Ragnar, you should have remembered that. You throw yourself angrily to the bed, rolling over and facing the window. The distinctive dragging noise of Ivar crawling toward you is followed by a grunt and the creaking and sagging of the bed under his weight as he heaves himself up. “Do not turn away from me, Y/n.” Ivar’s voice is a menacing whisper, his breath crawling over your cheek like the promise of violence.

You roll over with an annoyed huff, brows lowered, and even though you felt his breath on your skin you aren’t prepared for how close he is to you. “Fine, Ivar,” you hiss, injecting as much venom into your voice as you can, “we can share the bed.” You roll back over, feeling Ivar settle down beside you.

“You’re insufferable. If you didn’t fight like the Christian devil, I would sacrifice you to Odin. My best shieldmaiden,” he muses. “Surely that would bring the Allfather’s favor on me, hmm? He demands the sacrifice of those things we love the most, and yet I cannot bring myself to give you to him.” You feel his shrug. “And so, here we are, captured because of my weakness.” He shrugs again, and you feel him rolling over to face you. “Why didn’t you just let them kill me, Y/n? Then you would be free to serve an easier master.”

The question is so ridiculous, you roll over to face him again. His face looms into your view, mere inches from yours, and despite the grime and dried blood covering his pale skin, he’s beautiful. “I do not wish to serve an easy master. I want to serve one worth dying for. Sacrifice me to the Allfather, I do not care. I will wait for you in Valhalla and then we will fight again.”

You move to turn back over, but Ivar’s warm, callused hand on your shoulder stops you. “Do not tempt me to kill you,” he warns, his striking eyes burning into yours as he closes the small distance between your mouths. His kiss sends shocks of heat and cold over your body like breaking waves. His lips are hard, demanding your surrender, and you refuse to give it to him. He growls into your mouth angry and insatiable, and still you do not back down beneath his onslaught.

His hand cracks against your jaw, leaving a dull throbbing in its wake, and you bite his lip so hard you taste blood. One of his hands finds your throat and he presses down lightly, a threat that doesn’t scare you. You turn onto your back, an instinct more than anything, and Ivar is quick to shift his weight to cover you. Part of you feels this encounter has been inevitable from the beginning: from the very first time you felt his eyes on you as you fought off the Saxons surrounding you. Just a shieldmaiden, the daughter of a simple blacksmith, and yet from that moment on you’d been Ivar’s constant companion on the battlefield.

It was a strange arrangement, considering you couldn’t stand each other off of it. He was a rash, impetuous man, and you were not the type to just roll over beneath the sullen prince’s unpredictable rages. It infuriated him, and he took that fury out on you now.

His hand left your throat to throw your belt to the floor and tug your breeches down over your hips, and you weren’t sure when in this frantic scramble his own breeches had been undone but the head of his cock was already pressing against your slit. You hated the slickness he found there, hated the smug chuckle that fell from his smirking lips as his piercing eyes considered you. “And all this time, I thought you hated me, Y/n,” he purred, his hand returning to your throat. “Have you been dishonest with me?”

“No!” you protest. “You’re sullen and unpredictable and ruthless. But you’re cunning and brilliant and worth dying for.”

“That sounds almost like love,” Ivar muses, and you writhe beneath him as his blunt head begins to push into you.

“I would rather you sacrifice me to the Allfather than lie with me,” you spit at him, but your hips are betraying you, shifting to take him into you quicker, and his breath hitches in a moan.

“Then tomorrow I will sacrifice you,” he promises, voice dark and full of the promise of pain, and you do not doubt the violence in him even as he begins to fuck ruthlessly into you. His pace is punishing, and the girth of him fills you almost painfully. It seems fitting, somehow. Nothing with Ivar could ever be completely pleasant, and yet you find that the discomfort only makes you want him more.

You mewl as he shifts his hips to hit a new angle, his arms framing your head, knuckles clasping into the bed-linens so hard his knuckles are white. He thrusts into you once, hard and sudden, and leans down to catch your ragged gasp by pressing his lips to yours. He’s rough and his teeth scrape against your lips, and even something that should be gentle is a punishment that you know you deserve. “Next time I will let you die,” you promise, and his face is satisfied as he looks down at you, his blow pupils making his eyes look black and deranged.

“Good. Better death than captivity, Y/n. You failed me by saving my life today, and you will regret it.”

His thrusts are rough and deep, hitting an angle so deep he has you half-sobbing from some sharp, pain-edged pleasure. His hand is hard on on your throat, fingers inexorably closing, and your hips buck against him You hate your body for submitting to him, and in some form of twisted vengeance your fingers dig into the skin of his back until you feel lines of blood beneath your hands. Ivar is howling, screaming like an angry beast, and as you bring your fingers to your mouth to taste his blood, his thrusts turn savage.

He’s like a monster, some fiend that haunts the bowels of tall Northern mountains, and his gods-given fury is all directed into making you submit. As you’re clenching around him, screaming like you’re being flayed alive, his smirk is triumphant and wild. His hips stutter into you, and when normal men would melt against you with shaking muscles, he only slaps your face with something that feels strangely like affection, and rolls off of you.

“I might still sacrifice you after we escape,” Ivar informs you, panting from his exertions, “but for tonight you are safe.” He leans over you, hums in consideration, and drops his head like a striking snake to bite hard into your neck. You know it’s possession, not affection, causing him to leave  a mark on you. He settles down into the bed, and he doesn’t pull you close against him. There’s something unsettled in the pit of your stomach, but you try to ignore it, ignore the breathing of the crazed warrior behind you, and settle into sleep. You know you’ve won, simply because you didn’t break under his punishment, and he doesn’t throw you from the bed.