Warnings: Language, fluff, angst, love confessions, sexual content (18+ only): male masturbation, unprotected sex, dubious consent (due to sex pollen).
Disclaimer: Please heed the warnings - if this makes you uncomfortable then click away. YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA CONSUMPTION. I do not give anyone permission to take, repost, copy or translate my stories, regardless of whether or not they are credited. This blog and all works associated with it are 18+ only. Minors please do not interact or follow.
A/N: Day 5! Tagging @cryptidcasanova. Dividers by @firefly-graphics.
Kinktober ‘22 Masterlist
“With all due respect, what the fuck were you thinking Harrington?”
Steve’s tongue feels heavy as he responds, “Kinda was thinking about how telling you was a bad idea.”
Pressing the bag of frozen peas to his forehead you kneel beside him, suppressing your anger to the best of your ability. “You’re lucky that I was nearby and saw you pull that shit. Next time you wanna investigate a possible portal to the Upside Down by yourself, don’t.”
Taking the time to examine your friend in the following silence, you notice despite the budding bruise under the cloth there don’t appear to be any other injuries. It should ease the anxiety swirling in your gut but it doesn’t, because then there’s no explanation for his erratic breathing or flushed face; the way his eyes are screwed shut as if he’s in pain, or the constant shuffling of his legs- Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington is hiding something from you.
“Steve?”
There’s a slight tilt of his head and drifting of glazed eyes, but otherwise, you get no reply.
Your tone is firmer, more insistent. “Steve?”
“Hmm?”
“Did you encounter anything… weird in there?” You continue, weaving your fingers through loose locks of chestnut hair as you push them away, “Anything that we haven’t already seen before?”
Steve sighs at your touch, instinctually pressing himself into it as his hot palm lands on the back of your hand. “No,” he mutters, “just the usually creepy and murderous tentacle vines. Some freaky red flowers were growing on them this time. Maybe Vecna wants to be a florist and grow his own- look, I’m sorry, but are you wearing a new perfume?”
The question throws you for a moment. “Uh, no?”
He smiles at you, your stomach filling with butterflies and confusion, “Seriously? You smell great. Like, really fucking great.”
A pained groan erupts from him as he doubles over in agony, his hands clutching you in desperation. You drop the frozen goods and catch his face, calling out his name in panic.
“It hurts, it’s not enough-”
“You’re freaking me out. I’m gonna call Nancy and the rest of the gang-”
“No!” Steve gasps, fingers digging into your denim jacket. “Don’t leave.”
“I have to get help,” you plead.
There’s a glazed but focused look in his eyes like you are a balm to his wounds - a rare and beautiful salvation. He pulls you closer until your foreheads are touching, “This is helping me. Touching you like this is making it bearable. Just- don’t go, okay baby?”
Your heart gives a sad little flip, wishing he’d been in any other state of mind. “Okay.”
Nostrils flaring he looks you up and down before removing his shirt, mud from it leaving dark stains on the bathroom tiles. Immediately you avert your eyes, wanting to offer the former king of Hawkins High some degree of dignity or modesty. Steve isn’t himself right now, you reason.
That reasoning flies out the window when his fingers start to fumble with his belt buckle.
“Jesus Steve!”
The young man licks his lips. “You can either help or not. S’too damn hot.”
When his belt and fly are finally undone you’re surprised that he keeps his pants on. Your eyes about bulge out of your head when he thrusts a hand in, however, and throws his head against the wall in relief, seemingly getting a reprieve from whatever’s afflicting him. Stroking himself furiously, the whimpers bubble in his throat when he realises you’re not touching him anymore.
“I change my mind,” he hisses through clenched teeth. “Shit, stop staring and give me a hand.”
The offer tempts you briefly. A friendship of over two years flashes before you, panic mutating into dread as you imagine the end of it. What if this ruins everything? If this is how you lose him, is your crush even worth it?
“I can’t. I can’t do this.”
It’s impressive how Steve manages to gain just enough control to stall his movements, sweat beading on his forehead. Despite the sight you keep going, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes, “You don’t know what you’re asking me to do, Steve. So please,” you beg, “don’t ask me-”
Warm, lazy, sweet. It’s how you can describe your first kiss with Steve Harrington as he reaches up and presses his lips to yours, cutting you off. He kisses you like a man starved but full of hope. Like his declaration is long overdue, Steve moves against you in a way that has your toes curling in your sneakers.
The tears escape and so does the desire you’ve buried for so long. You don’t hesitate to return his affections, your fingers returning once more to bury themselves in his hair while you gently pry his desperate mouth apart with your tongue. And he has and always will do, Steve lets you in.
Begrudgingly, you eventually pull away, the smile you wear causing your cheeks to ache. Steve’s disposition matches yours, his gaze glossy and euphoric. “I know it’s not super appropriate, but I was wanting to ask the girl I love if it’s okay that she rides me into the sunset before I take her out on our first date?”
You snort, never happier that Steve Harrington is so terrible with women.
“You sure, Harrington?”
“Damn sure, babe.”
Smiling, you stand up and it takes less than a minute for you to strip to nothing, hoping to stave off more of his sudden cramps the faster you go. The sight of ‘Pretty Boy’ Harrington looking up at you with wide eyes, mouth parted hungrily as a thumb rolls over the tip of his cock - it definitely distracts you a little.
And now you understand that everything about Steve is pretty.
Gazes locked on each other, you lower yourself onto his angry length, nails tracing the thick veins as you line him up and pump once, twice. Cursed moans leave you both as his cock pushes past your wet folds, feelings of blissful heat roaring to life in your abdomen.
“Gotta be honest, dingus,” you purr, clenching your hips as your pussy pulsates, “I’d love for you to fuck me before we go to the movies.”
Steve’s hips jerk in response. “Movies, huh?” He breathlessly asks, “I can do that, baby.”
Warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ only): noncon/dubcon, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap peeps) implied kidnapping, implied confinement.
Disclaimer: Please heed the warnings - if this makes you uncomfortable then click away. YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA CONSUMPTION. I do not give anyone permission to take, repost, copy or translate my stories, regardless of whether or not they are credited. This blog and all works associated with it are 18+ only. Minors please do not interact or follow.
A/N: Day 3 Here we are! Divider by @firefly-graphics.
It was everything you’d ever read about: lilies and foxgloves akin to the ones mentioned in The Secret Garden hanging just outside the back door; siding and layout reminiscent of the March family home; and a private library even Sherlock Holmes himself would have had trouble not being envious of.
It was suppose to be a dream - specifically your dream - come true, except for the fact that it couldn’t be anything further from that. Instead, it's a nightmare born from a pure, lust-filled delusion, with you and your reading log being the prime sources of inspiration.
He finds you in the kitchen this time, the man who wishes for you to call him darling, honey, Stevie my love. You’ve been drying dishes for so long the tea towel begins to wear thin, the blue material repeating the same circular motion again and again. When he comes closer you move to the island, tucking the exceedingly clean cutlery away. You don’t acknowledge him.
His breath is hot against your neck and the pressing of his chest to your back sends shivers up your spine. “I got you something from your wish list, Bookworm.”
There’s a dense thud as a freshly printed copy of The Girl Who Fell Beneath the Sea is dropped beside you, narrowly missing your hand. It takes everything in you not to tense up at the sound.
You feel a tightening at the back of your neck, the grip firm and slightly calloused as the man who once made you smiley warmly with his wonderful book recommendations now pushes your face towards the cool marbled countertop, his other fingers slipping underneath your pleated skirt - one of many he makes you wear for his viewing pleasure - to tug your panties down. You can only try to ignore how they stick for a moment before he finishes pulling them to the ground.
Steve holds no such pretence, scoffing at the sight, “I knew you needed to thank me like this, just like how you knew I needed to come home to you and this sweet pussy you used to try to hide from me.”
You nod your false agreement. Attempting to fight it isn’t worth what could happen next instead of what usually follows. Unfortunately, you learned the hard way that Steven Rogers - once the world's sweetest librarian - is a hardened veteran who has yet to forget anything he’s learned during his military career. The basement door is locked to soothe you - the night terrors you experienced after the first and only sign of guilt you’ve ever seen your captor display.
When the head of his cock pushes past your wet folds there’s a collective sigh from you both, yours damningly headier than his. Your eyes unfocus for a few seconds, your gaze drifting briefly to the petal-filled backyard before his steady thrusts ground you permanently. Sometimes you wish he’d fuck you there just so you can feel the sun on your skin, feel like more than a part to play in the story of you and him.
Fingertips dig into the meat of your ass as he fucks into you without a care in the world. You hate it when he treats you like you’re special to him. Your disgust is momentary as his lips kiss promises into your skin, your neck being slowly covered with teeth marks and precious nothings. Involuntarily your hips push back and seek your pleasure for you.
You hate how you hate it less and less.
Steve's thrusts grow more frenetic. "Good thing you know better now. My fantasy is your fantasy, Bookworm. And that'll never fucking change."
Day 2 - Thigh Riding/Electro Play with Thor Odinson
Pairing: Thor Odinson x fem!reader
Word count: 402
Warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ only): thigh riding, foreplay, electric stimulation. Please heed the warnings - if this makes you uncomfortable then click away. YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA CONSUMPTION.
Disclaimer: I do not give anyone permission to take, repost, copy or translate my stories, regardless of whether or not they are credited. This blog and all works associated with it are 18+ only. Minors please do not interact or follow.
A/N: Day 2 let’s go! Divider by @firefly-graphics.
Kinktober ‘22 Masterlist
There’d never been a need to complain until now. He’d promised nothing but passion, stating all gods have an equal lack of self control - it’s just that every single one has different triggers. With you being his, naturally. The looks he’d thrown your way tonight between neon lighting and thrumming crowds waving their dignity away suggested self-indulgence of the best kind was on the menu for later. And now that it is later he dares to hold back, to tease you like a carrot dangling in front of a rabbit?
Unacceptable.
“The audacity of gods,” you gasp, head leaning against the stained brickwork. “I’m never dressing up for you again.”
Thor’s grip tightens and you feel a dull ache in your wrists, the vibration from his chuckles travelling into your neck and joining the reverberations from the bass inside. “If I recall correctly, you were the one who suggested trying something new.” Plush lips give way to sharp teeth, a grin following the next bite. “Is this not new enough for you, my love?”
You unsuccessfully attempt to hold back your moans, abandoning your efforts altogether as you feel his large, rough hand snake underneath your dress and a single finger pull your panties to the side. There’s a shock and you convulse for a second, hips bucking as the electricity stings your clit.
“Fuck!” You gasp.
He leans in some more, tapping your nub once more and sending a current of pain and pleasure through you before pushing a broad, wool woven clad thigh between your spread legs. Tipping his head back you now see rather than feel the smirk on his face, complemented by the literal lightning that dances in his eyes, “You should be more patient.”
It’s instinct now, the way you gyrate against his pants - too far gone to think of anything else but chasing that release, lest the man with a hundred lifetimes extends his patience. Your mouths are a hair breadths away, the god of thunder stealing your desperate stutters away like a dragon admiring his finest hoard. “I- I’m- oh, fuck me- I’m gonna-”
“Cum?” He muttered, “I hope so, pretty spark.”
His thigh and electrified fingers work in tandem, rubbing against your wet heat once, twice more before the divinity-induced waves rush through your body.
ThorThorThor-
The god in question - in praise - can be generous sometimes. He promises this too.
Warnings: Language sexual content (18+ only): edging, clit play, bondage, dom!Frank Castle, brat taming.
Disclaimer: Please heed the warnings - if this makes you uncomfortable then click away. YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA CONSUMPTION. I do not give anyone permission to take, repost, copy or translate my stories, regardless of whether or not they are credited. This blog and all works associated with it are 18+ only. Minors please do not interact or follow.
A/N: Day 6! Dividers by @firefly-graphics.
Kinktober ‘22 Masterlist
It’s in his tone, those deep and sharp inflections akin to the barking of rabid beasts - the easiest way to tell if you managed to successfully piss off the Punisher. And though it’s hard to tell because he’s currently facing away from you, the frustrated clenching of blunt teeth and the curling of thick fingers is all too easy to imagine right now.
Probably because you’re the one he’s pissed off at.
He shucks his bloodied tank top off and turns on the stool, revealing yet another row of stitches on the tattered canvas that is Frank Castle, and thumbs his nose. “You wanna go ahead and repeat that, sweetheart?”
By god do you not. Between the ropes tying you to the bed and the air from the cracked window chilling your sweaty, bare body, you’re uncomfortable enough as it is. Your pussy, though, is suffering the most here, folds wet and nub swollen after the brief attention Frank’s already given it.
You forgot that the man can hold a grudge.
He forgot that sometimes you can be so goddamn stubborn.
With that, you hold your head up as high as you can and bite out, “Fuck you and fuck your stupid plan.”
Lifting the whiskey bottle to his lips, he takes a deep swig before standing. “Fuck me, huh,” he sniffs, “Well, I’d offer but it looks like no one’s gonna get what they fuckin’ want today.”
The heavy thudding of his boots is slow but deliberate, a starving dog circling a pretty and frazzled bone. The mattress dips under the weight of his knees and soon he’s hovering over you pouring amber liquor all over your stomach. You hiss as it makes contact with the small graze by your left hip, the pain immediately soothed by the brushing of Frank’s tongue.
You barely hear the smashing of decanter glass against the wall, too caught up in the sensation of broad hands gripping the globes of your ass and the feel of his tongue moving lower and lower, closing in on the source of your own frustration. Dumb enough to forget his words, your head drops back onto the pillow and your eyes flutter shut as he blows hot air onto your puffy clit.
The slap catches you off guard, tears pricking now open eyes as your pussy jerks at the stinging sensation. Your hands tug foolishly at your restraints as you cuss the Punisher out.
Frank looks up, his ember gaze blown and manic, feral smile making its first appearance tonight, before smacking your abused button once more and chuckling at your whimpers. “Looks like some people don’t know when to listen to the experts. Good thing we’ve got all night for me break that fuckin’ attitude a’ yours.”
Warnings: Language, fluff, humour, sexual content (18+ only): oral (f receiving), shibari/bondage, traffic light system, hair pulling, slight fem dom. Please heed the warnings - if this makes you uncomfortable then click away. YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA CONSUMPTION.
Disclaimer: I do not give anyone permission to take, repost, copy or translate my stories, regardless of whether or not they are credited. This blog and all works associated with it are 18+ only. Minors please do not interact or follow.
A/N: Was going to get @slothspaghettiwrites to beta this but no, we die like men now. It’s been a hot minute since I’ve written any smut so be gentle with me. Divider by @firefly-graphics.
Kinktober ‘22 Masterlist / Jake Jensen Masterlist
“You love me, right?”
“Baby, I would take a bullet for you. Maybe even a couple of bullets. Probably couldn’t go further than that, though. Shit hurts and I’d probably pass out like Pooch did that one time in Guatemala... Please don’t tell him I said that.”
“So what I’m hearing is that you’re up for a challenge.”
There’s a faint increase of pressure on your hips as you feel your boyfriend’s body tense up from both your words and the simultaneous swing of your leg as you settle into his lap, his fingertips automatically finding purchase underneath the hem of your t-shirt.
“Is this one of those good challenges where we have the sexy kind of fun? Because that would be awesome.”
“It might be.”
Jake’s grin is a mile wide now. “What do I need to do?”
You see your smile reflected back at you in his thick-rimmed glasses, your hands coming to rest atop his. He’s always been brilliant at following orders.
His eyes widen with excitement as your hand reaches for your pocket only to crinkle with confusion as you pull out... a twenty-dollar note?
“Twenty bucks says I’ll make you leave the table at this evening’s session,” you declare. “Twenty bucks and tonight’s post-session activity. What say you, Dungeon Master?”
There’s a spark in your eye and Jake wants so badly to give in, no questions asked. His nerdy pride, however, won’t let him consider it. It’s not been easy with your character pushing his fucking buttons every session purely so you could win this unspoken competition you’ve both trapped yourselves in. With his reputation and plan for tonight on the line - he thinks you’d look so fucking sexy wrapped in white lace, posing for him, camera in his hand capturing how soaked your panties are after he’s done with you - he sucks in a breath and gives you his reply, blond eyebrows raised and tongue swiping along his bottom lip, “You can certainly try.”
It’s soothing him - you can tell by the way the rope whispers against his skin and how the resulting sighs he lets out surprise even you. Uncaring or unaware of the noise, his head lolls as you tie the next knot, the rope’s movement across his skin shushing him into a pliant state.
The response is more than you could have wished for.
So pretty, Jay, you’re so damn pretty, you tell him over and over. Just a little more, handsome.
Cords of dark hemp pull and twist against corded muscle relaxed by a wonderful combination of trust and lust. For fun you briefly run a hand up one, his back jumping under the featherlight contact.
You’re done nearly two minutes later, the last knots keeping his forearms securely pinned to his lower back and the remaining rope tethered to a safe point on the wall - with some slack, of course. After admiring your literal handiwork for a few seconds you circle your slightly blissed-out boyfriend, satisfaction at his current state pulling the corners of your mouth upwards. “You feeling good, tiger?”
His cock could answer that question for you. Unlike the rest of him, it’s straining against its confines, the navy cotton providing very little friction.
Certainly not enough to give him any sort of relief or release.
One deep inhale, then two, “All green here babe.”
Stepping forward you tug at the line around his waist to bring him closer, rewarding his patience with a deep kiss. You hum in restrained delight - he tastes just like the buttered popcorn from earlier in the evening. The other hand slips to the base of his skull and gently tugs the short hair there, and Jake moans into your mouth, the vibration sending shivers up your spine. You can feel his warmth seeping from his chest and the rope creaks ever so slightly as he struggles against it. Another firmer tug pries his desperate mouth from yours.
His gaze grows manic. “Please,” he begs breathlessly, “Please touch me.”
What pretty putty I hold in my hands.
“Relax, Jay,” you coo. In a swift moment you pull your dress up and over your head. You don’t fail to notice the small wet patch on his underwear. He doesn’t fail to notice your lack of underwear altogether. “You walked away,” you continue, “so now we get to play my game.”
He sniffs in pathetic indignation, “Speak With Plants and Speak With Dead cannot be used to interrogate a mahogany writing desk.”
You snort. And the dork is back.
The protest holds very little weight considering the man can’t stop staring at your bare pussy.
Still my horny dork, though.
There’s a brief narrowing of those baby blues and you swear you can see the moment the lightbulb turns on in that pretty brain.
“Holy shit, Princess. The entire time-”
You nod your affirmation.
“You didn’t take them off at-”
A shake of the head instead.
“I love you. You’re like, my dream girl. You know that right?”
Jake Jensen I do not deserve you.
Curling a finger around the red material running up his sternum you step backward, chuckling at his brief attempt to lean in for another kiss is met with empty space. “I love you too, sweet soldier.”
Arm extended now, you pull and he enthusiastically follows, stopping with a hiss as he feels the rope behind him go taut, preventing him from actually going on the bed. Your feet touch something plush and soft a second before your calves find the end of the bed. A cursory glance at the vanity desk shows his glasses still next to the shears - just in case.
Letting go of him, you lower yourself and seat your ass firmly on the edge of the blanket. Jake watches, enraptured, as your thighs spread further apart. Slowly, deliberately, you taunt him. He drops to his knees before you’ve got the chance to verbalise the invitation, the pillow cushioning his sudden landing.
“Green, Jensen?”
“Greener than Swedish pastures.”
Still brilliant at following orders.
Pretty pink lips don’t waste time starting, Jensen smoothly and lazily chaining kiss after kiss up your thigh. On instinct your leg lifts itself onto his shoulder and your ankle pushes the hemp bonds deeper into his muscles, politely urging him closer to your wet heat as your patience begins to dissolve. His pace, however, doesn’t change - a small challenge in protest to losing yours.
You swiftly change his mind as your hand flies out, fingers twisting blond tufts and nails digging into his scalp. The man below you grunts, teeth scraping your skin as he moves faster, closer, you’re right fucking there-
A short puff of air on your clit is all the warning you get before Jake’s mouth latches on and sucks harshly. With no hesitation your pretty little soldier boy begins working at your cunt, his tongue swirling over your swollen clit between nips as you buck against his face.
Your arousal keeps dripping onto his chin - and the comforter - and he gleefully flattens his tongue to try and catch it all. “You taste so good, Baby,” he mumbles between mouthfuls, “So fucking good.”
Your fingers start to tighten and your legs begin to tense as you get closer to your peak, nails and heel sinking into sweaty skin and tight rope. Looking down you watch how his muscles ripple under your self-made trappings, Jake’s hands tensing instinctually - were they free he’d happily be using those dexterous digits to grope the globes of your ass. Threading your fingers in his hair still, you reassure him, “Relax, handsome. Don’t think too hard about it, you’re doing a - shitshitshit - great job.”
The encouragement seems to do the trick and what frustrated grunting was there stops, his breathing evening out. He happily presses on - in the most literal sense; Suck, swirl, flick, lick, repeat cycle.
“Love eating this pussy so fucking much.”
You don’t mind that he can’t shut up, not when he’s telling his truth so well.
Between the sight of his baby blues staring up at you seeking signs of your enjoyment and the sensation of his lips on your cunt, it’s more than enough to push you over, a wave of euphoria rushing up and through you. You cry out and with one final grind you fall back, bouncing on the mattress. Fingertips rub firm, soothing circles into Jake’s hair as you attempt to catch your breath.
When you’re ready you sit up again and look at your boyfriend, his head to the side and resting atop you. You smile with pride. “Colour?”
His chest rises and falls - in and out, in and out. “Green.” In and out. “Best twenty bucks I’ve ever lost.”
Unable to help it, the snort escapes you, and soon you’re both chuckling, the aura around the two of you filled with satisfaction and brevity. It’s a little awkward given your positioning, but regardless you lean down and gently kiss him, enjoying the taste of you on his lips. Your gut twists uncomfortably, guilty flowing through you as the pleasure fades.
It’s a shame Maxwell wants him dead. I really like this one.
Eyes fluttering with unshed tears you pull back, hoping your expression doesn’t betray your shame. “Want out of these ropes so we can take care of your ‘pressing issue’?”
“Nah,” he shrugs, “I like a challenge, we can leave ‘em on. Besides, I’ve always had this secret fantasy of being interrogated but in a, uh, sexy way. You okay, babe?”
Pressing your forehead to his, you sigh, “Never better. Now let’s work on making that fantasy of yours come true. What are your thoughts on being hung from the ceiling?”
Jake Jensen I do not deserve you. Please forgive me.
Pairing: Lagertha x fem!reader (East of The Sun and West of the Moon AU)
Word count: 639
Warnings: Language, fluff, angst, sexual content (18+ only): somnophilia (consensual), vaginal fingering, slight nipple play, slight body worship.
Disclaimer: Please heed the warnings - if this makes you uncomfortable then click away. YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA CONSUMPTION. I do not give anyone permission to take, repost, copy or translate my stories, regardless of whether or not they are credited. This blog and all works associated with it are 18+ only. Minors please do not interact or follow.
A/N: Day 7, one week in finally! Dividers by @firefly-graphics.
Kinktober ‘22 Masterlist
You wish you could watch her wake up with the sun. See the sleepy smile spread on her face as the light hits lustrous honey tresses that splay on your pillows, head tucking itself into the crook of your neck and muscle rippling under inked chainmail as she rolls over with eager, open eyes. A loyal warrior braver than most; a devoted but vigilant queen; and a love you know will last beyond your lifetime - you understand that you’ll never be worthy of any part of Lagertha.
Alas, the gods are vicious, bitter beings, so a deal is a deal and a dream can be no more than desirable thinking. In the dark you hide once more, wishing you could be a better half to an already beautiful whole.
Fur gives way to skin as your body transforms into its true form, and you peel off the covers atop your sleeping shield maiden. Even in the cover of night, you can tell that Lagertha sleeps like the free woman she was born to be, arms stretching out waiting for the world to come and show her the glories and horrors of the new dawn.
Again, you momentarily lament how cruel those you once worshipped must be to damn the both of you.
Your fingers trace the Drakkar on her bare thigh, their own adventure just beginning. Bending your head to her chest you nuzzle her soft mounds, tongue sweeping across scar tissue and teeth tenderling plucking at the small red buds. She hums, pleased, but otherwise remains still.
The trust she has in you makes your heart swell, the tumultuous journey to earn it well worth the wait.
Your hand glides up battle-made curves and grazes her folds, fingertips prying them apart to rediscover her heated core. A thumb begins to gingerly rub circles her nub as your mouth latches on to her hardening nipple, and you moan at the taste of sweetness and sweat - surely all Valkyries taste like this.
Yet another memory to savour for when you’re both finally and blessedly free.
A wispy sigh escapes your fearsome companion as her cunt bucks subconsciously. With your other hand giving her other breast the attention it deserves, you press your thumb down and swipe faster, index finger teasing the opening of her dampening sex before eventually working its way in, eager to find that spongey and magical spot.
There’s a jerking of hips and legs, followed by a sharp gasp, the breathlessness in her following proclamation pleasing you greatly. “I’m happy you’ve found your - gods - boldness again, precious Skogkatt. Fuck, don’t stop.”
Whether it’s due to Lagertha’s status or in your nature, you obey, taking great pride and pleasure in watching her unravel within minutes. The euphonious moan she releases as you sink another finger into her wet pussy has your own clenching in arousal, leaving you struggling, desperate to stave off your own orgasm long enough for her to finish riding out her own waves of bliss.
Her legs stop shaking not long after and the lusty fervor growing in your slick heat fades to a dull throbbing. Whispering sweet nothings she caresses your arms as you move up to touch your lips to her waiting and wanting ones.
She kisses you as slowly as an ember burns. “One day I will know your face. I will wake up in Sunna’s light and see you as unashamedly and freely as you see me.”
Though Lagertha can’t see it, she can feel the tear that lands on her nose as you wistfully say, “That which has become so dear to me, I could wish for nothing more. But, my Queen, today is not that day.”
Her kisses continue, an immediate reassurance and a hopeful declaration for the future.
Warnings: Language, fluff, sexual content (18+ only): oral (m receiving).
Disclaimer: Please heed the warnings - if this makes you uncomfortable then click away. YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA CONSUMPTION. I do not give anyone permission to take, repost, copy or translate my stories, regardless of whether or not they are credited. This blog and all works associated with it are 18+ only. Minors please do not interact or follow.
A/N: Day 4. Sorry this one’s a bit late. Divider by @firefly-graphics. Tagging @becauseicantthinkwritings and @cryptidcasanova.
Kinktober ‘22 Masterlist
Your thoughts are lace with annoyance, but you can’t help it. It’s supposed to be practical, you determine.
There’s absolutely nothing sexy about the clothing. The vest has so many pockets that it’s a wonder Billy Russo doesn’t lose track of all his ammo every time he goes out in it; the pants couldn’t be any baggier; and who decided on that godawful combination of black and camouflage? Not to mention, the balaclava hides the best part of that man.
It’s supposed to be practical, except that Billy has never looked bad a day in his goddamn life. Right now you’re supposed to be practically fuming at him, upset that he left you high and dry nearly five hours ago to ‘take care of some business.' Instead, your libido is reaching rooftop levels because of his stupid uniform.
Still, you step forward until your bare toes touch black leather and your eyes can now pick up the speckled collection of wet crimson on his kevlar.
You consider yourself about as smart as the average individual - Billy, ever the charmer, would protest this - but holy shit if this man doesn’t make you feel a little dumb sometimes, the sudden appearance of this tactical gear making you want to drop to your knees and suck the soul outta him.
(Unfair, you’d call this.
After all the times you’ve flaunted your body in front of me? He’d retort, This is me getting even.)
A dirtied hand reaches up instinctively to pull his mask off and you once again move without thinking, catching his red-stained fingertips only mere inches from the edge. His pupils dilate, the air thick with curiosity and leftover adrenaline as dark eyes intensely search your face, looking for something that he hopes isn't there.
Fear.
Billy sounds tired when he finally speaks, an undercurrent of smug satisfaction lurking in the low timber of his voice. “It’s done. Those pieces of shit aren’t gonna bother you or your business anymore. Okay, sweetheart?”
You smile gently between unshed tears, frustration fleeing from you completely. Though you know your work would normally seem mundane to someone of his standing, your boyfriend understands just how much time, attention and heart go into growing something of your own - a company that’s worth taking pride in.
Tough guys like to fuck around and then hate to find out, he thinks. Whether or not you’re scared of him now, your safety is and always will be worth it.
Pressing your forehead to his you hear him chuckle softly, relief filling his once live wired frame.
“Let me thank you properly then,” you smoothly offer.
Billy smiles. Home for less than a minute before you assault him with your desires and impish wiles. Guess there’s no rest for the wicked.
His now even breathing hitches as you slowly sink to the floor, and though you can’t see it, you swear you can feel his smirk following you all the way down. Your fingers work swiftly to undo his cargo pants and set him free, his thick cock hardening in your hand as you pull it out. Delighted, you begin stroking him, hands pumping in a steady rhythm while you lick your lips in preparation and contemplation. Billy Russo is a handful, that’s for goddamn sure.
There’s a soft bang! when you finally take his length into your mouth and looking up you witness his head leaning back against the front door, eyes fluttering as he stares half-heartedly at the ceiling, seemingly stuck in a lust-fueled haze. Maybe your sweet Lieutenant had come back to finish his original mission, after all.
Your tongue traces the vein on the underside as you leisurely bob up and down, and when your nails dig into the skin on his waist there’s a cursed groan of “Fuck me” as his gaze drifts back to you. Humming in appreciation you push yourself to go faster and deeper, enjoying the taste and heaviness of him on your tongue. Hissing his approval between clenched teeth you sense before you feel his palm settle on the back of your neck to steady you.
The only crime in a war is to lose, and Billy Russo sure as shit ain’t gonna lose you. Not over his dead body.
Here’s my full list for the upcoming kinktober event. These fics will range from short blurbs to full one shots. The themes will be a mix between light and dark so please heed the warnings in each one. All fics are x female reader unless otherwise specified but more importantly, all fics are 18+ only so minors do not interact with these works or my blog at all.
Fandoms include: Marvel (MCU), Stranger Things, DC (DCEU), The Witcher, Vikings, Once Upon A Time, The Grey Man, Defending Jacob, The Losers, The Sandman, The Red Sea Diving Resort, Knives Out, The Mandalorian
Main Masterlist / Navi
* indicates full length fic while ⚠️ indicates dark themes. List below the cut:
WEEK ONE
Day 1 💋 Jake Jensen - Shibari/Hair Pulling *
Day 2 💋 Thor Odinson - Thigh Riding/Electro Play
Day 3 💋 Dark!Librarian!Steve Rogers - Free Use ⚠️
Day 4 💋 Billy Russo - Uniform Fetish
Day 5 💋 Steve Harrington - Sex Pollen *
Day 6 💋 Frank Castle - Edging/Bondage
Day 7💋 Lagertha - Somnophilia (East of The Sun and West of the Moon AU)
WEEK TWO
Day 8 💋 Old God!Clark Kent - Lingerie (Old Gods of Appalachia AU) *⚠️
Day 9 💋 King Valkyrie - Impact Play
Day 10 💋 Lloyd Hansen - Hate Sex ⚠️
Day 11 💋 Ivar the Boneless - Masturbation/Voyeurism
Day 12 💋 Bucky Barnes - Quickie/Creampie (Ethereal AU)
Day 13 💋 Robin Buckley - Overstimulation
Day 14 💋 Hvitserk Ragnarsson - Primal Play
WEEK THREE
Day 15 💋 Alpha!Ari Levinson - A/B/O *
Day 16 💋 Jefferson - Knife Play ⚠️
Day 17 💋 SamBucky - Dirty Talk
Day 18 💋 Din Djarin/The Mandalorian - Praise Kink
Day 19 💋 FrankenBilly - Dacryphilia ⚠️
Day 20💋 Lord Morpheus/Dream of The Endless - Sensation Play
Day 21 💋 Neighbour!Sam Wilson - First Time *
WEEK FOUR
Day 22 💋 Marc Spector/Steven Grant/Jake Lockley - Mirror Play
Day 23 💋 Eddie Munson - Nipple Play *
Day 24 💋 Winter Soldier!Bucky Barnes - Biting/Outdoor sex * (LMTAF AU)
Day 25 💋 Andy Barber - Choking/Breath Play
Day 26 💋 Harley Quinn - Body Worship
Day 27 💋 Geralt of Rivia - Anal Sex
Day 28 💋 Vampire!Stucky - Monsterfucking/Blood play *⚠️
