#Flutter Vikings

[ozarkthedog]

𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐁𝐘 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇

summary: joel drags you onto his lap and consumes you.

warnings: 18+ mdni. joel miller x afab!reader. no physical descriptions of reader. slight dom!joel. cock riding. calling a pussy she/her. no beta. w.c: 835

author’s note: I saw a different gif of Joel sitting on the ground with his thick body and long legs, had a minor black out and this was the result. hope you enjoy!

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 ⋅ 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 ⋅ 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭

Joel Miller leaning back against the headboard of your bed with his legs spread, completely nude, is a fucking sight.

Somehow, he's still so massive and intimidating in this prone position. He reminds you of a warrior or Viking God who's just come home from slaying in battle. 

Coarse hair covers his broad chest, blanketing his sturdy abdomen, and trails south below his belly button, creating a dark, densely woven path down to his pelvis. His large cock hangs heavy between his burly, spread thighs; his sac is so full and warm that it reaches the sheets. The dusty pink head weeps, dripping pre cum down the girthy shaft as it bobs and flexes at the sight of you on your knees naked before him. 

"C'mere." he husks, fisting his length with a meaty paw while you timidly crawl on hands and knees over to him.   

Your gaze travels up his belly and chest, meeting an untamed, vivid stare as his chocolate eyes bore into you. He makes you feel so small and insignificant, but you know that's a lie when he cups a worn hand along your cheek. He treats you like a goddess; like you formed the moon and stars. He revolves around you. 

"My sweet, sweet girl." he tugs you into his lap, your sensitive cunt brushing against his belly, leaving a trail of shiny arousal in its wake. "Already so wet. Bet I'll slide right in." He purrs.

His words burn wildly through you. All consuming and raging, igniting a searing heat deep in your belly. He taps his crown against your folds, a sharp, sticky 'thwap' bouncing off the walls before he lines his cock up with your tight, fluttering hole tempting a soft whimper to bubble up your throat.

"S'ok, I got you." he consoles you with a deep, soothing voice that slithers into your wary heart.

Joel grips one sturdy hand on your hip and helps you sit on his cock while the other cradles your jaw, fixing his fingers around the back of your neck. "Easy now, slow," he commands with a soft rumble.  

He traces the outline of your ear with his thumb, distracting you from the pressure as your velvet channel molds around him. He sighs, a long, winding breath through his nose, "All the way. Take e'ery inch."

His bearded jaw clenches when he bottoms out and hears your pitiful whines. Your body would loll like a ragdoll if not for his grip as a blissful fervor runs rampant up your spine and his weeping tip presses against your cervix.

Your lips pull into a tiny 'o', brows pinching tight when Joel shifts, withdrawing his cock before slowly, ever so slowly, spearing it back in and splitting you open. He smirks at your glassy eyes, all wide and wild like an animal caught in a trap.

"Thatta girl." he rumbles, thrusting his hips and breaching your cunt again. He tenderly rubs his thumb along your cheek. His cock flexes at the sight of you gradually losing your mind. "so full of cock, ya can't think straight, huh?"

He drives his cock deeper, meaty thighs bracing the backs of your own on every brutal thrust. Slick trickles down his length as he relentlessly sheathes himself in your heat like a sword spearing into its victims.

Your fingers dig into his brawny shoulders, pressing into the dense cords of muscle as they shift with every devastating shove, demonstrating his strength.

"Shh, I'll take care, a'ya." the thumb that framed your ear is now threateningly hooked under your jaw. A blunt nail acutely bites into the underside of your chin. "Always do, don't I?"

When you meet his foreboding stare, a high-pitched cry rattles through your body straight down to your cunt, making your walls clench like a vice around his length.

A chuckle rumbles from the center of his chest. "S'what I thought."

The hand around your hips tightens as his pace quickens. The pads of his fingers dig sweetly into your skin. He slithers his other hand around the back of your neck securing you in a severe grip; the pads of his fingers dig sweetly into your skin, keeping you still and compliant as the rapturous arousal blazing in your core burns brighter and brighter.

You feel him swell, pushing against your insides and forming a new pathway that'll only and always be his.

"Tha's it. Stay with me." he tips your forehead against his own and penetrates your soul with a voracious stare. "Can feel 'er, squrimin'. This sweet pussy gonna come?" 

His torso and balls tighten as you writhe in his hold and hit your peak with an agonizing, blissful cry. "Shit- 'ere ya go." he praises, growling darkly through clenched teeth, watching in awe as you convulse from his unyielding and gluttonous touch. 

He wants you close. So close he can breathe in every needy, angelic breath he punches from of your lungs as he fucks you to the edge over and over again. He wants to watch you fall apart in his arms so he can put your back together. Breath by breath. Whimper by whimper. Orgasm by orgasm.

feel free to scream at me -> 💌

->reblogs & comments are extremely appreciated!<-

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[rose-tinted-kalopsia]

≡;-꒰ 𝑿𝑨𝑽𝑰𝑬𝑹 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I 𝑪𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒚

╰┈➤ ❝ xavier x afab!reader | smut nsfw 18+ mdni

tags : porn with little plot, pure filth actually (quite self-indulgent), slight food play?, food sharing, slight public teasing if you squint, essentially just xavier being a little shit (again), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, oral (f. receiving), vaginal sex (unprotected), creampie, cum eating, praise, use of pet name "angel", references to "childhood snacks" secret times, lmk if i missed any tags!! ((unedited))

wc : 4.5k

an : has NO ONE ELSE noticed how often strawberry is mentioned in xavier's cards?!!! and also, thank you for 500+ follows where did you all come from omg,,,

You were far better than any candy.

It wasn't often that the two of you got to spend a day outside together.

With how your occupations treated the both of you, most of your days off were much-preferred to be spent indoors—cuddling, watching a movie, or whatnot... and Xavier, of course, was always very fond on catching up on his sleep. Not that you ever minded; in fact, you found those extra days of simple rest very welcome. In your little afternoon naps, Xavier's presence by your side was always comfortable under the warmth of the sunlight.

But...

Sometimes, days like this were just as welcome.

Despite the Linkon heat, you wore a big smile on your face as Xavier helped you off the viking ride, gently guiding you as you stepped out of the ceramic boat. You dusted off your dress, looking back at the boat with a wistful gaze.

"That was fun, wasn't it?" He echoed your thoughts, slowly lacing his fingers together with yours in the exact way that made your heart flutter.

You looked back at him with another smile, falling into step with him. In your mind you recalled the brush of the wind in your faces as the ride swung higher and higher, the thump in your heart recalling the thrill of it and turning your smile into a full-blown grin. "Yeah!" you nodded enthusiastically. "I'm glad we went with your suggestion. Starting off with the more relaxing rides and working our way to the fun ones... You get to feel the thrill all the more!"

You caught the way his gaze softened, and he gently squeezed your wrist. "The face you make when you're excited is really pretty."

His comment came casually, and he nodded lightly to himself, almost as if confirming his statement as a pink blush slowly made its way to the tips of your ears.

"When you're embarrassed, too," he added with a smile.

You would never tire of it—how he would always make you fluster with his words, so nonchalant, so unexpected. He had that sort of habit, especially with you—the gall he had to present himself so unassuming and casual, you could never understand it, but it did the job quite well and sent your heart for a ride of its own.

With a little huff, you looked away. "You, too, then!" you could tease back normally, but this time, your response held a little less bite to it, and Xavier laughed.

"If that's how you feel, then I won't complain."

The two of you paused in front of a souvenir shop, and immediately, you felt your eyes brighten. Your grip on his hand tightened. "Xavier—"

"You want to go, right?" He had that same, knowing, gentle smile on his face, and he inclined his head towards the entrance. "Sure, then."

"But... you have to come with me!" Again, you tugged at his arm.

But there was a glint in his eyes, almost as if he knew what you were planning.

Xavier shook his head. "How about this? You can surprise me with something from this shop... And then it'll be my turn to surprise you at the next one we come across." He made a quick glance at the map in his other hand. "I think it sounds fair. Don't you?"

You could pout at his words, but there was truth in what he spoke—even as you looked at him inquisitively, you could find nothing that showed he wouldn't keep this promise, and there was no reason to refuse.

Except...

Curiously, you peered at him.

"You should know exactly what's in store for you," you narrowed your eyes playfully. "Why are you indulging me today?"

Xavier shrugged, then, and even the smile on his lips couldn't prepare you for his next statement, so raw, and honest, and genuine that it made your heart turn—"I like seeing you happy."

There wasn't an ounce of mirth in his eyes when he spoke this, and perhaps, though he was normally straightforward with you and affectionate like this at the most random of times, it would never prevent the butterflies from racing in your stomach.

Blushing, you turned away, letting go of his hand and walking to the store.

"...Wait for me here, then!"

And perhaps, it could have been part of his plan to ease you out of bullying him the way you often did, for it surely worked:

You returned out of the store not with matching bunny headbands like you'd originally intended, but cat ones, instead.

Close enough, you thought.

With a small smile, you shielded your eyes from the sun and glanced around for Xavier, only to spot him lounging near an empty bench by the fountain. It was closer to the bushes and a lot cooler with the breeze, seeing as it was a spot much further away from the crowds of people. His legs were crossed as he flipped through the pages of one of his little pocket books, and the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up, no doubt a sign that he, too, was feeling a little hot with the noontime sun at its peak.

As you approached with the headbands in your hand, your footsteps slowed when you noticed him reach upwards to brush the hair out of his face, his mouth opening slightly to guide the lollipop he had from one side of his cheek to the other.

Despite yourself, you gulped—

And curse how attractive of a boyfriend you truly had.

When he looked up at you, you'd barely registered for yourself that you had settled down to sit beside him, and his eyes drifted to the headbands in your hand.

"...Cat headbands?" He momentarily took the lollipop out of his mouth and raised his eyebrows at you, clearly amused. "I was expecting something else."

But you didn't reply.

Your eyes met, then, and a small, tiny tiny little smirk played on his face. It told you everything you needed to know.

Instead, you noted the slight stick of candy on the corner of his mouth, and when he put the treat back in, you barely noticed the way he took the headband from you and promptly put it over his head. Your eyes instead were focused on the way he languidly swirled his tongue over the candy.

He let out a hum of consideration as he looked at himself through the locked screen of his phone, but when the lollipop shifted around in his mouth again, his eyes turned back to you—

You had been caught.

Instinctively, you pulled your hand away from him, but he was quick as he held it in place, slowly sliding the lollipop back out of his mouth and twirling the stick between his thumb and his forefinger thoughtfully.

"This? Oh... Someone came by with all sorts of candies to sell. The children were crowding him, but I managed to get one." His gaze switched from the lollipop and then back to your face, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Sorry, angel... Did you want one, too?"

"You, um.... You didn't tell me you were gonna get one..." Your voice was thick when you spoke, and you fumbled slightly with your words.

He smiled.

Something in you told you it would be dangerous if you dared to answer, but you found that you couldn't look away from him. "...Mhm," you nodded your head, honestly speaking, even as your breath caught in your throat when he reached over to stroke the side of your face.

"We can look for a candy store next," he murmured.

You watched his eyes drop to your mouth, and he slid the thumb of his hand slowly down to your lip, his smile almost widening at the way your jaw dropped opening ever so slightly.

"Guess you don't want to wait."

Without waiting, his other hand, holding the lollipop, still wet and half-dissolved from how it had stayed in his mouth prior to your arrival, and slid it into yours. Your gazes locked as you instinctively curled your tongue around the candy, wandering over every inch of it, taking in its flavor before swallowing.

And he smiled.

"It's strawberry bubblegum," he nodded at you, again speaking somewhat matter-of-factly, but that same sly, sly smile was still plastered on his face.

Then he pushed.

A slow, filling push, as he slid the pop further into your mouth.

You gasped at the feeling, unable to help the way you sucked on the candy, unable to stop yourself from maintaining eye contact and seeing every little way pure delight would make its way to his features.

Your tongue swirled over the lollipop, lips parting when he withdrew it, feeling the way your mouth would stick with sweetness before he was guiding it back into you, twirling the stick between his fingers and allowing you to taste it again, and again. And he remained silent as he did it; slowly, precisely guiding the treat in and out of your mouth, having you breathe carefully through your nose as you looked up at him with your eyes half-lidded.

The edges of your mouth were coated with saliva and melted sugar, sticky as you swallowed all of the flavor that you could, dissolving the candy with your tongue as much as you possibly could.

When the candy remaining on the stick was considerably small, he pulled the treat out of your mouth and back into his, biting it off with an almost cheeky grin.

"It's good, isn't it?" he hummed, making a show of licking his fingers clean in front of you, watching as your eyes shifted to once again follow the movements of his tongue, and smirking slightly as your breathing became short and quick.

"Something wrong, angel?" he tilted your head back up to meet his eyes, voice so soft that you could melt. He noted the way your skin was wet and sticky, shining with the residue of the candy, and he didn't wait for your answer.

Instead, he leaned over to lap at your chin, quick, small kitten licks up your jawline until he was kissing you, making you taste the thick, sweet flavor of the strawberry lollipop still llingering in your mouths.

When he pulled away, you were dazed, your heartbeat erratic, barely processing the way he handed you a wipe to actually properly clean your face, your lips turning down into a pout.

"...You're unfair, Xavier," you whined.

You pouted even as he placed your headband onto your head, clearly smiling with satisfaction at the way the both of you matched.

"Why's that, angel?" he hummed, feigning innocence like he often did.

And it pissed you off, it really did—he was infuriating when he wanted to be, even after all he'd done just now, the taste of the candy still lingering on the tip of your tongue.

"Oh, come on! How can you do all of that and act like nothing happened?" you huffed. "I want you..."

His eyes crinkled up in joy as he laughed, reaching over to pat your head. "But we're here for the rides, aren't we? You said you'd go on all of them."

When you crossed your arms and looked away, pressing your thighs together in a way that he definitely noticed, he only chuckled once more and gave you a small kiss on the top of your head.

"Later," he murmured, "I promise. But for now... We shouldn't waste our admission tickets."

You couldn't argue after that.

He had a point, after all—and luckily for you, in the end, it wasn't too hard for you to let your arousal slip off your mind for the rest of the day.

Instead, you simply enjoyed being in his company.

Each ride you took, from the drop tower to the rollercoaster to even a little game of bumper cars, was as exhilarating as the last. Even winning a target game against him by barely a single point had you jumping up and down with glee, your arm carrying a big, fluffy white bunny that you confidently stated looked a lot like him. And almost like an unspoken promise, he didn't tease you any more than he already had—the cotton candy remained cotton candy, the marshmallows remained marshmallows, and the animal crackers were eaten just as they should be.

By the time you both had walked back to your apartment, the little bag in his hand containing whatever "surprise" he'd gotten for you rustled against his wrist, and you peered curiously into it once you settled with him on the couch.

"Candy?" you questioned doubtfully as you pulled out a little packet of licorcice, but your eyes shone when you eagerly popped it into your mouth and chewed.

Xavier shrugged, leaning back into the couch. "That... last time we tried snacks together was fun, so I figured you'd appreciate another one."

You almost laughed. "But those were my childhood snacks! These are just your typical candy! We could've tried these any day, you know?"

He raised an eyebrow, taking a chewable candy into his mouth. "We could've worn animal ears any other day, too."

This time you grinned, and settled into his arms. "Yeah, you're right. I have a sweet tooth, anyway, so I'll gladly eat candy with you. You didn't need to set this up..."

You fished into the bag and pulled out a smaller bag of chocolate bits, its brand unfamiliar to you as you held it up.

"Oh, I thought you'd like that one," Xavier spoke first this time. "You like milk chocolate, don't you?"

Something in your heart sparked at the mention, and you couldn't help but smile. "You remembered!"

Your hands were eager as you opened up the packet, unwrapping one piece and putting it into your mouth.

The first bite had your eyes sparkling wide, noting how it melted into your mouth as you chewed.

Xavier looked at you, amused. "Is it good?"

You were excited as you took out another piece of chocolate, and you nodded—this time, you closed your eyes to savor the taste, letting yourself relax into the richness of its flavor. "Mmm... t'so good..." You'd barely noticed the way your satisfaction had the tone of your words twisting into something mildly inappropriate, your eyes still closed as you chewed. And you couldn't have registered that particular smile edge at Xavier's lips once more.

But Xavier wouldn't let you off the hook that easily.

"Hmm. Could I try some?" His voice was close to your ear when he murmured out his words, but you were happy to oblige him, clearly not catching onto his intentions.

You held up the bag of chocolates for him, taking yet another into your mouth—

Instead, he smirked down at you and gently set the chocolates back into the bag with the rest of the candy, pushing it off the couch as his lips found yours.

Your eyes widened, his tongue mixing with yours and tasting for himself the milkiness of the chocolate you'd eaten, his own eyes half-lidded as he lowered you onto the couch. When your head hit the armrest, all sense of arousal from earlier at the theme park came rushing back to you in waves, and you gave in.

Xavier pulled away only to kiss you once more with increasing fervor, and you moaned into the kiss, feeling any rational thought seep from your head within seconds. Your arms were around his neck and his hand was in your hair, your clothed bodies flush against each other as the kiss, the moment, became steadily more passionate, steadily more heated.

The bag of candy slumped on the ground beside the couch, easily long-forgotten with the way his lips moved against yours, his tongue soft and wet in your mouth as the heat slowly began to crawl over to your cheeks. When he pulled back, you were flushed, breathless. His body hovered over yours, his hair hanging over your face, his eyes displaying a lingering sense of desire that mirrored your own.

You swallowed thickly.

"Yeah," Xavier breathed, his voice hushed. He licked his lips. "The chocolate tastes good."

You could barely believe he was still talking about that.

"I-I don—"

"But... I have an idea of what would taste better."

He cut off the beginnings of your protest with a little smirk, and you could see the way his eyes raked over your body to where the skirt of your dress had ridden up just enough to expose the side of your panties.

Your heart thrummed loudly in your chest.

"Wh- what would that be?" You tried testing him, tried to look into his eyes to gauge what his next move was.

"You don't know, angel?" He murmured as he drew closer to you once more, lips barely touching yours, his hot breath fanning over your face.

Feebly, you whimpered, but you didn't dare make a move.

Xavier dipped down to bury his face into your neck, and breathed in deeply. "You smell like strawberries."

Your breath hitched.

"Did you plan this? Your lotion... It's new."

You felt his hands snake underneath your dress, pushing the fabric upwards to grip firmly on your waist. The contact on your bare skin made your eyelids flutter closed.

"F-for you," you replied, your breath shaky.

"For me?"

"Y-you... You like strawberry, so I thought I, um... would make you happy with it..."

Xavier pulled back away from you with a warm smile, his hand leaving your waist momentarily to brush the hair out of his face.

"You always make me happy no matter what you do, angel," he spoke sincerely, genuinely, despite the heated moment that the both of you had just shared. But his eyes narrowed almost playfully, and he tilted his head to the side with a short laugh. "But you don't know how much I've been waiting to eat you up because of that scent."

His words made you whine, a mixture of both pride and embarrassment coarsing through your body at the fact that you had been the one to get him all needy like this for you.

"So, angel..." Xavier trailed his fingertips over your thighs, pushing them apart as he shifted downwards, closer to your core. Another smile teased at his lips when your breath hitched, but his eyes never left yours. "May I?"

You threaded your hands into his hair, and your eyes fell closed.

"Okay."

His lips were on your thighs then, warm and soft as he trailed his kisses upwards. And the sensation of it all made you shiver, but you could almost feel the way it affected him, too. He'd let out soft sighs against your skin, drinking in your scent and your warmth, and then his kisses would almost get needier, craving you just as much as he made you crave him.

You gasped the minute he pressed himself closer to your clothed cunt, breathing in your scent yet again and then poking his tongue out at the wetness that had gathered in your center. Then from there, his movements became quick—his hands shifted beneath your hips, lifting them upwards towards him, your legs draped over his shoulders as he pushed your panties to the side. You couldn't help the way your mouth fell open with a drawn-out moan of his name once he ran his tongue through your folds, licking a wet stripe from your slit upwards.

Your fingers gripped desperately into his hair.

Such a simple motion already had you reeling.

"You even taste like fucking strawberries," he mumbled, before he repeated the motions, long, slow, languid licks that geadually turned to gentle lapping at your wetness. His tongue moved upwards to flick occasionally at your clit, and you could revel in the way he looked—so lost in your taste, his quiet groans reverberating through your body.

And then your thighs trembled around his head, and your eyes widened at the smooth, silky prodding of his tongue as it finally slid inside of you.

"O- oh, god," you leaned your head back against the armrest of his couch, your eyes falling shut once more.

You could have sworn you felt him smile.

With another moan, your hand fell from his head back onto the couch, searching for purchase only for him to reach out, taking advantage of the way you arched your back, and catch your hand with his.

He laced your fingers through together even as he continued to swirl his tongue in your heat, drinking up your arousal, pressing his face closer and closer into you—despite the obscenity of his ministrations and the noises that fell from your lips, the simple action of holding your hand almost made you swoon.

And he didn't dare let go of it.

"I— haah— Xavi—!"

Feeling a familiar knot form in your stomach, you began to languidly roll your hips against his face, matching the way his tongue would dance over and in your folds. In response, Xavier moved with fervor in his actions, focusing on sucking at your clit, flicking his tongue in ways he knew you loved best.

You barely noticed the way his other hand had also left its spot by your hips before a finger entered where his tongue had earlier been—he hooked it inwards, curling just right to hit your sensitive spot, and you let out another loud moan.

"Fuck—! X-Xavier!" You threw your head back, gripping his hand tightly, your other digging desperately into his couch. Your body writhed, a sharp rush of pleasure making you shudder and cry out more of his name as he continued to swirl around your clit, and another finger carefully prodded at your hole.

You couldn't see the way he smiled at you, but you felt it—felt it in the way he sucked on your bud, felt it in the way he stretched you out and moved his fingers in and out of you, until you snapped.

Your hips bucked upwards and into him, holding in place, as your body succumbed to the pleasure.

"X—Xavi—er!" You cried, and his hand holding yours made sweet, gentle caresses over your skin, his tongue still lapping up all that you had to give him. He let out a hum as he moved from your cunt, to your thighs, to your belly, and up to the exposed skin on your neck, leaving a loving trail of kisses, and then he rest his forehead against yours.

"Did that feel nice?" he whispered, lips meeting yours in quick, fond pecks, blue eyes nearly shimmering with how much affection he held for you.

It was more than nice, you thought, but you answered him with a kiss. And as he continued to kiss you back, Xavier edged his hand downwards, slowly, slowly, before the tip of his cock nudged against your entrance—

The contact made you gasp and arch upwards. "Xavi—?!"

"Nnh... Please, angel?" He sighed, nuzzling your nose, massaging your hand. "'M not done with you yet. You can give me more, right?"

You whimpered.

You could feel the sensitivity from your earlier orgasm, unsure if you could truly push yourself for another one. But his cockhead would dip in so... nicely. Xavier was teasing, testing you as he waited for your reply—

And you couldn't resist.

When you gave him a feeble nod, he smiled.

"That's my girl."

The praise made you shiver with delight as he pushed into you slowly, setting an unhurried place, his lips back onto your skin as he nibbled just over your collarbone.

"Ngh... Xavier..." you whined as he slid all the way into you and his teeth grazed your skin, the sting of his bite somewhat foreign, but not unwelcome. "T-tomorrow, we have a..."

"Wear a scarf," he mumbled, barely looking up at you before he shifted to suck on the area next to the mark he'd just made, his intentions with you very clear. In seconds, every roll of his hips against yours, coupled with the way he would bruise at your skin and leave visible evidence of your activities, had you throwing your head back with a moan.

"Mmf—fuck, Xavi," you gripped his body tightly against yours, feeling the way his cock would stretch your walls so perfectly.

"Mh? 'S it good?"

He angled his thrust right against the spongey spot in your walls, and you gasped, feeling the way he would smile against your neck.

It was clear affirmation for him, if your moans of his name didn't already give him enough of it—and despite the fact that you had already cum once, he was adamant on getting you to that high once more.

"Feels good for me, too," he groaned as his pace began to pick up, the faint sounds of skin slapping reaching your ears. Each stroke of his length moved with purpose, hitting that same spot over and over and over, your mouth falling open in whimpers and moans of his name.

"Ah— X- Xavier!" You bucked your hips to match his pace, his grip on you getting tighter, his breath hot and heavy against your neck.

Your eyes met, and you keened at the way his hair fell over his face, his eyes searching yours for something you couldn't name. "...You're so beautiful, angel," he breathed, nearly panting, his thrusts becoming quicker and more erratic.

And you could have thrown the words back at him, were you not so lost in your pleasure as you clenched around his cock, gripping his hand tightly in yours.

"C-close— Xavi—!"

You began panting, your vision hazy, as he rut his hips into yours.

"Mhm— almost there— angel— fuck—"

One final thrust had him collapsing onto your body, pulling your own release out of you as he spilled inside, his cock twitching within your walls as he came.

"Xavier..." you whined, reaching to wrap your arms around him, almost cradling him as he groaned into your skin. "Xavier, I..."

He hushed you with a sloppy kiss, and you could feel the way a significant amount of energy had seeped from his body as he gave you a tiny little smile.

"I love you too, angel," he mumbled, before he was sliding down your body once more, your eyes widening when he settled between your thighs yet again.

"H-huh? What are you—ah—!"

You shuddered and gasped at the contact of his tongue back on your folds, still sensitive as you pushed his cum out of you. But yet his eyes remained on yours, and he stuck out his tongue out to continue lapping at the mess he'd made in your cunt.

"Xavier!" you cried. "P-please, no more...!"

He shook his head slightly. "Shh, angel. Don't worry, relax. Just let me clean you up," he mumbled, taking a dollop of your fluids into his mouth, and then swallowing as you watched, your face flushing red.

There was a small, almost cheeky smile lifting the corners of his mouth when he raised his head slightly.

"It's better than candy."

⁺₊ / an: took a break from requests to get this up before we all get "unique aftertaste", bc this was mildly inspired by the trailer! <3 xavi with food play has been on my mind a lot, if it wasn't obvious yet...

© rose-tinted-kalopsia. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.

[luvendiary]

3 times hiccup asked you to marry him + the time you realized he meant it

hello! this was an early draft for this request: Hello!!! Imagine hiccup telling reader "I'm in love with you" / "Marry me" out of blue after a stare down (can be established relationship or not muahahaha) I like how this turned out, except for the ending. it's sort of shitty in my opinion. also, this isn't proofread. and sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language. feel free to point them out. also, there’s a slight corpse bride reference with the vows!! as always, thank you for reading. let me know what you think and if you'd like more of this. requests are always open!

1.

Snoggletog was one of your favorite festivities. The beautiful coat of snow that hugged the soil, and the way the sunlight softly reflected on it was perfect to you. You loved to see how vikings busied themselves by hanging up ornaments and mistletoe on the doors. You loved hearing the out-of-tune carols that echoed across Berk. And you loved the late cold nights as you and the dragon riders sat around a warm fire and talked about the day’s happenings.

One thing you did not love though, was the Snoggletog play, specially because it had been assigned to you all this year. It was the dragon riders’ responsibility to plan, organize and act it out the day of Snoggletog.

“What about the start of dragon races?” Snoutlout suggested.

“They did that two years ago,” Astrid replied as she sharpened her axe.

“We could do Loki-”

“We’re not doing Loki day Tuffnut,” Hiccup interrupted him.

A moment of silence passed amongst all of you.

“What if, we make a reenactment of Odin and Freya’s marriage? How they stopped the Aesir and Vanir war,” you said while nibbling on your thumb.

“That could work,” Fishlegs said.

“I like it, we could even get the dragons in on this,” Astrid suggested.

“Of course, brilliant idea (Y/N),” Snotlout said as he stood up with a cocky attitude. “Specially because I would make the perfect Odin.” He flexed his muscles and stroke a victorious pose.

You chuckled and pushed him away, “Sit down Snotlout. I was actually thinking that Astrid and Fishlegs could be Freya and Odin.”

“Oh no,” Astrid said immediately. “I’m not good at performing. Plus, you gave the idea, you should be Freya.”

“Alright,” you said. “If no one else is up for it, I’ll be Freya. Fishlegs, are you ok with being Odin?”

“Ye-” his reply was interrupted by Astrid elbowing him. “I mean, I wish I could but…I-I don’t like performing.”

“What but you love perfor-?”

“Hiccup! Why aren’t you Odin?!” Astrid chimed in as she placed her arm around your shoulder while the other went around the brunette-boy’s shoulders.

“Uh…I-I guess,” Hiccup said.

Astrid grinned while looking at you, “Great! It’s settled then!”

“Why would you do that?!” you shrieked as you pressed the palm of your hands to your eyes.

Astrid, who sat next to you overlooking Berk from a nearby cliff, shrugged, “Oh I don’t know. Maybe because I’m tired of you two beating around the bush. Why don’t you kiss already? It’s obvious you want to.”

“Shut up Astrid,” you said while sitting up. You rubbed your hands together to provide some heat to your body. “I’m not even sure if he likes me.”

“You’re as blind as Gothi is mute,” she replied.

“How can you be so sure? Has he said anything about me?”

“You’re hopeless Y/N.”

The days went by, and Snoggletog drew closer and closer. Right after training, you went to rehearsals, and while most of it went by in fits of laughter and jokes, you all managed to build a production. You often tended to practice with Hiccup, since you had the most line together, and it gave you an excuse to spend more time with him. During this period, you had managed to gain some small victories in the love department, holding his hand, dancing with him, and hearing him laugh while you acted out some of your scenes being some. However, there was something you both had been avoiding: the marriage kiss. It made your heart flutter and your stomach swarm with butterflies every time you though about the possibility of kissing him; on the other hand, it also felt like Gronkle iron swishing around your intestines. What if he didn’t want to kiss you? What if he just did it out of pity?

Your mind was plagued with questions up until the big day.

“Good luck,” Astrid said while she gave you a knowing look. She was looking forward to the kiss, and if what she had told you was true, all of the dragon riders were too.

The play started out good, Snotlout and Tuffnut played the Aesir family, while Ruffnut and Fishlegs played the Vanir.

The scene changed and the Aesir were complaining with Hiccup about how Freya’s magic and her help towards the Vanir was the reason for their shortcomings.

I was then your time to appear. After several attempts from the Aesir to try to kill Freya, you and Odin came to an agreement: you were to marry each other.

“Marry me,” said Hiccup. And as you looked into his eyes your breath hitched. He had a smile plastered on his face, and his eyes gleamed.

“I will marry you,” you replied as you offered him your hand and he put the ring on your nuptial finger.

The scene was supposed to end there, you were about to take a step backwards so that the actual marriage scene could take place, however you felt a hand wrap around your wrist, and before you knew it you were being kissed. You were being kissed by Hiccup Haddock.

Your shock was palpable, however you dissolved into the kiss once the initial incredulity had passed. Once Hiccup felt the kiss was reciprocal, he wrapped his arms around your waist and drew you closer.

2 .

Dragon racing was a hefty sport. Ever since it was created, it became a fan favorite amongst Berkians. Once every full moon, a match was held that was sure to be the talk of the town for at least a week. On summer and winter solstice, you held the dragon riding tournament, that usually lasted for about a week; except for that one time when the black sheep had wondered deep into the woods, and you weren’t able to find it for two days.

Point of the matter is, dragon racing was a serious issue for vikings. And that’s why victories where celebrated so grandly. You never particularly cared for the celebrations, however wining was important to you; your usually carefree nature was irrecognizable when it came to the sport as you became a furiously competitive rider. This change, spared no one. Not even your boyfriend.

“Incoming!” you called out before snatching the black sheep from Hiccup’s arms, as you held on with your legs to (Y/D)’s saddle while she flew in an upside down position.

“Hey!” he shouted in response with a light chuckle.

“I wish I could say I’m sorry, but I’m not!” you replied with a shit-eating grin directed his way. With the black sheep secure in your arms, you flew away, not a hint of remorse visible on your face.

You returned to your upright position and quickly flew up to your basket and threw in the black sheep. As soon as you do so, you hear the crowds cheers and applause mixed with the blow of the horn, signaling that the match has ended.

Astrid joined you on the platform, followed by Ruff, as they cheered you on and celebrated your team victory.

Hiccup watched you, still mounted on Toothless with a lovesick smile present in his features, “I’m going to marry her,” he said as he took in your beautiful smile.

“I don’t think you’re her type,” said a voice next to him. Tuffnutt flew next to him with a pissed expression -probably because of their defeat- “but go for it. I’m sure my sister would be flattered.”

3 .

“Do you think there are other people out there?” you asked as you stared blankly at the stars. “I mean, besides us dragon riders and dragon hunters. Do you think that maybe there’s another civilization that has been familiar with dragons long before us?”

You heard Hiccup chuckle, “Possibly, maybe they even know of species we have yet to discover.”

“I wonder if they maybe think the same of us. Maybe we’re some strange advanced civilization to them”, you said with a light giggle as your thoughts went wild with the idea of the unknown. “Or maybe, we’re cavemen in comparison to their civilization. Maybe…they know about our existence, and they have just decided to leave us alone because we’re not worth their time.”

“That’s a bit depressing isn’t it?” Hiccup asked, humored by your rambling.

“I don’t think so. I think it’s exciting…” you said slightly breathless as you stared at the vast abyss of twinkling lights that spread above you and beyond. “Just imagine everything we’ve yet to discover.”

You faintly heard the huffs and growls of your dragons, who were entertained by Hiccup’s prosthetic leg as they fought each other for it.

Hiccup allowed himself to steal a glance at you for a fraction of a second. He thought that the view in front of you was beautiful, but to him, the real wonder was sitting right next to him. You looked breathtaking with the starry abyss reflected in your eyes. Yet, you were so unaware of it.

“Marry me.”

He didn’t mean to actually say it. But he just couldn’t control himself when he was with you.

Your trance was broken and you stared at him wide eyed, in disbelief at what he had just said. However as soon as you saw his expression mirroring yours, you burst out laughing. You couldn’t say truthfully that you had never though about marriage, especially with Hiccup.

Hiccup’s startled expression morphed into confusion.”W-What? Why are you laughing?”

“Are you sure you want to marry me?” you asked in between giggles. “You don’t seem very sure.”

“What? Y-Yes! Of course I’m sure! Why wouldn’t I want to marry you?” his eyebrows furrowed in the way you loved. The way that told you you had successfully managed to get in his head. He had turned his body so that it was now mirroring yours, and his shoulders were raising up and down as they usually did when he was trying to explain something or defend a point.

“Fine then. I’ll marry you.”

His rambling stopped immediately. “What? Y-You will?”

You shrugged your shoulders nonchalantly. “Sure. Why not?”

You stood up then as you walked around the small island you had stumbled upon earlier that day. Leaving a very flustered and confused Hiccup behind.

“Wait! Where are you going?” he called after you as he struggled to get up. He rambled on as he chased you, asking about arrangements and other things.

“Aha!” you said victoriously as you crouched down over a patch of grass with some wildflowers sprouting out.

Hiccup peered over your shoulder, trying to see what you were doing.

Eventually you stood up and extended your hand towards him. He stared at you blankly for a moment, and muttered to himself, tryin to understand your actions. Still, an amused smile was present on his face.

“Well?” you said after a bit. “Give me your hand.”

He did as you instructed, and then you took out your other hand from behind, which gently held a blade of grass along with some small wildflowers intertwined with each other, forming a ring.

“I know it’s not the best craftsmanship, but I figured we couldn’t get married without rings,” you explained with a soft giggle.

Hiccup grinned down at you, and laughed incredulously. He wondered how he ever got you to agree to be his. “I’m afraid to tell you dearest, but I don’t have a ring for you.”

You sighed mockingly and rolled your eyes. “I know that. I assumed you would be too in your head about your future duty as chief and the dragons to think about me.”

“Hey!” he protested immediately. “I’m always thinking about you-”

“But worry not!” you said as you giggled playfully. “Since I know you well enough to be married, I know you well enough to be prepared for our wedding.” You reached into one of your pockets and puled out and identical ring, which he gently grabbed.

He stared down at you, with a skeptical expression.

“Well, go on with it. Do you want to marry me or not?” you asked as you tilted your head slightly to the side.

Hiccup sighed and then locked his eyes with yours. “I, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock, the Third, make this oath. With this hand I will lift your sorrows. Your cup will never empty, for I will be your wine. With this candle, I will light your way in darkness. With this ring, I ask you to be mine."

Once the traditional vows were finished he gently took your hand and slid the delicate ring onto your nuptial finger.

You watched with a smile as he carefully placed it, and once he was done, you repeated the vows and slid his ring onto his own finger.

With your ceremony done, your lips met in a gentle and warm dance. You felt as his hands slid down your back and rested on your hips, holding your body closer to his.

“This is the second time we’ve been married now,” he whispered as he broke apart form the kiss,

“How scandalous,” you whispered back with a soft laugh, as you remembered the Snoggletog performance and how it ended up with your first kiss.

“Maybe the next time we get to do it, you’ll actually be wearing white.”

You stared up at him with a raised eyebrow. “Is that so? Does that mean you’d like to bed me next time?” you teased.

“I’d love to bed you now,” he said with a slight chuckle. “But I’m aware you’d rather follow the traditional path.”

You laughed and patted his chest. “Well, you’ll better get me that white dress quickly then.”

4.

Hiccup had been acting weird all day. Evading you and whenever you managed to track him down he responded any question you had in a dismissive manner. You had figured you should let him alone for a while, at least until he was ready to talk about whatever was bothering him.

He did tend to get too into his own head whenever he was worried, and it took you telling him about it for him to realize he could share his burden with you. But this time it was different.

When you had asked what was bothering him he dismissed you as soon as he could and continued what he was doing.

It had hurt you. It made you think if you had done anything wrong, but you couldn’t think of anything. It was scary thinking about what this could mean for the both of you.

“And you’re sure he hasn’t ever acted like this before?” Astrid asked as she tried to make sense of the situation with you.

You where both sat in the Great Hall, as the rest of the vikings ate their dinner. You however, couldn’t seem to make anything go down past your throat, as worry consumed you.

“Yes Astrid, I am sure,” you replied rather harshly. “I don’t even know where the hell he is right now. For all I know he’s probably off in another girl’s house. Maybe he got tired of waiting for me. Maybe he realized he doesn’t want this sort of commitment…”

You knew that this was irrational thinking. Hiccup had never given you signs that he didn’t want to be with you anymore, on the contrary, he was always very reassuring on how much he liked being with you. Up until now you had never had any reason to doubt your relationship; but up until now, Hiccup had never behaved like this either.

“Don’t say that! That boy is crazy for you. He has been since we where thirteen.”

You sighed and buried your hands in your hair. “Then why is he acting like this?!”

“I think you should ask him yourself,” Astrid said as she placed a comforting hand on her friend’s back.

“I’ve already tried that…” you groaned out. Your voice muffled by your arms, on which you were resting your head.

“Give it one more try. Maybe he’ll snap out of it.”

Reluctantly, you agreed and made your way up to the watch tower. It was Hiccup’s turn to keep watch tonight, so you knew he wouldn’t be able to escape this time.

You felt the heat of the fire before you saw it, and you knew he was there.

“You need to cut the crap Haddock,” you started as you saw the faint outline of his shadow as you were nearing the end of the stairs. “If I did something wrong, just tell me right now because I can’t keep doing this. We’re not teenagers anymo-”

Your throat closed up as soon as you saw him. A gasp escaped your mouth and your hands flew to your face.

In front of you, Hiccup was down on one knee and a small wooden box sat comfortably on the palm of his hand.

“You bastard,” you whispered just to yourself.

He chuckled at that and smiled as he saw your reaction. He then opened the box to reveal a small silver ring in the shape of some intricate patterns.

“My dearest Y/N…” he started, but the lump in his throat wouldn’t let him go any further.

“Oh Hiccup…” you breathed out as you approached him slowly.

“Please marry me,” he said finally.

You crouched in front of him with tears in your eyes and held his face in your hands.

“Of course I will marry you,” you replied as a teary laugh escaped your throat.

To him, it was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard.

He laughed then, as he slid the ring in, and looked up at you. He cupped your cheeks with the palm of his hand and pulled you closer until your lips met. He tasted tears and relief in that kiss.

You eventually separated and you hit his chest lightly.

“Don’t ever do that to me again you bastard!” you said as the tears flowed, and you whipped them off as nervous laughter escaped your lips.

“I swear this is the last time love,” he chuckled as he crouched his head slightly to help you whipe your tears.

“Not that! Don’t ever avoid me like that again Hiccup! I was starting to think that maybe you didn’t want me anymore…”

Hiccup grabbed your chin gently and made you look up at him. “Theres no one else I’d rather want.”

You laughed nervously once again and offered him a teary smile.

“I’m sorry I scarred you love. I just…I was so nervous.”

“It’s ok…” you reassured him. “I understand.”

He smiled down at you and whipped another tear. You didn’t mean to keep doing it, but you had been so worried all day long that it was finally coming out. You didn’t want to ruin your moment like this. It was supposed to be a moment for celebration and happiness. You tried to make it stop.

“You can cry. I will lift your sorrows,” Hiccup said with a soft laugh as he whipped another tear.

You smiled then, tears still flowing out. But you knew it would be alright. He would make you feel alright. He always did.

[astroboots]

Every You Every Me #Issue 5

COLLABORATED WITH @thirstworldproblemss

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x female reader

Summary: You finally catch Spiderman in your bed and try to get answers to the many many questions you have.

Word count: 3,200 words.

Content: Awkward one bed shenanigans, teensy bits of angst

Series Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist | Astroboot’s Masterlist | thirstworldproblemss' Masterlist

[Previous] [Next]

You wake to the glare of the morning sun spilling through the curtains.

Your first waking thought is that it. is. so. bright. God, why is it so fucking bright.

Your second thought is that you need to pee. 

There is no third. Because your bladder is killing you. 

There's just one not-so-small problem, and he's lying on top of you, in the same position he fell asleep in last night. Wrapped all around you, clinging on like you're a soft comfort blankie he refused to be weaned off of.

It's not... unpleasant, exactly (your need to pee aside).

For such a large man, being trapped underneath him is more comfortable than you might have expected. He's heavy, sure, but the pressure feels more like a weighted blanket with the way he's draped across your body, arms curled around your waist and back. 

It helps that the sheer size disparity means that you're too small of a surface area for his whole body to cover and most of his weight rests on the mattress. 

Rather than suffocating, it’s almost… cozy.

It must be really early in the morning, because your room is nearly silent. You can’t hear the familiar New York traffic. The noise of honking cars, angry shouting people and screaming cop sirens outside of your window. Instead, in the quiet of the morning the only noise you hear is the sound of his soft snoring against your collarbone.

Before today, you never knew superheroes snore. It’s not the sort of mundane thing you ever think about superheroes doing.

You stare up at him for a minute, soft skin and long lashes fluttering across his cheeks, marveling that he looks so... human. 

Which of course he does. The observation shouldn’t really surprise you. For all the fantastical mythos that surrounds them, at the end of the day, most superheroes are human beings. 

…Unless you're talking about Thor, of course, who’s an actual Viking God. And maybe not Hulk either, because... well... look at him. He’s all green and roided out, you don’t know what he is but he’s certainly not human. And then there’s– Okay, you know what, now that you actually think about it, a lot of superheroes are not human at all.

Maybe that’s why last night took you so much by surprise. You always thought they were invincible. You’d never guess that a slice of coffee cake could bring one down, collapsing as easily like a poorly built house of cards.  

Even more surprised when he’d held onto you, pleading for you to stay. 

When you see the Avengers plastered on the front cover of every newspaper, they look larger than life. When you see Captain America and his star-spangled shield sparkling in the centerfold of the Times, you never really stop to consider, what’s he like when the mask comes off.

In some abstract way, you were aware that superheroes have lives beyond just superheroing. You just never thought about the fact that a lot of them probably have families at home that they worry about. Friends that they care for. People they miss. 

Nena

He'd said.

The person he mistook you for last night.

Something squeezes uncomfortably tight in your chest just remembering the tone in his voice when he said it.

Something is going on here. It's clear to you now even more so than before, that this man doesn’t just keep saving you out of sheer coincidence. There’s a mystery here that’s all tied together in an interconnected web somehow and you're pretty sure it has to do with this Nena person. She is most likely the answer to why your whole life has been upended in the last few months. 

You need to find out what is going on and now that he's physically here, right in front of you, as soon as he wakes you can finally ask him and get some answers that are long overdue. 

You just really need to fucking pee first.

Gingerly, you wedge an arm between your chest and his. You attempt to slowly and carefully pry open the stranglehold he has on you, hoping to scoot up and out of his arms.

He grunts in reply, still soundly asleep, and his arms tighten their hold on you, pulling you back into him as he burrows his face into your chest.

"Five more minutes," he grumbles, voice raspy with sleep. "Nena, it's too early."

There it is again, that nickname. You freeze, holding as still as possible, feeling your heart skip a beat at the tone of his voice as he said it. It’s said with so much fondness and hints at so much familiarity each time he has said it. 

You don't know what you're meant to do in this situation. Except you clearly can’t let him go on thinking you’re… whoever it is that he thinks you are for much longer.

There are the muddy moral implications of allowing this to go on any further after all, considering that the man probably has no idea where he is after you practically roofied him with baked goods.

You also still really need to go pee already.

He shifts against you, one thick, heavy thigh wrapping over your leg and pulling you in further before coming to a rest directly on top of your bladder. Okay, fuck, you take back what you said about this not being unpleasant. This is really, really unpleasant. 

You need him to get up now. 

Forcing your hand free, you reach up to give him a polite tap on the shoulder. When polite doesn’t get you any results, you do it harder, three successive taps, and he still doesn’t even stir. You keep tapping, progressively harder until you’re punching him hard enough that any normal person would be yelping in pain and begging you to stop. 

He groans once, arms shifting to secure his hold on you. For a moment you think he’s going to ask for another ‘five minutes,’ but then the whole of his body goes stiff, every muscle suddenly rigid with tension. A suspended silence permeates the space, and you find yourself holding your breath unsure of what to do next. The silence is broken by the sound of your bedsheets shifting, and you feel the firm hold around your waist ease off, his arms and legs retreating from your body. 

He's up and out of bed in one smooth move, almost faster than you can follow. By the time you struggle upright in bed (much less gracefully) he's already standing a few feet away, hands fisted at his sides. 

“Sorry,” he says, looking at you and then off to the side like he can’t quite bring himself to meet your eyes, a bright flush burning high on his cheeks, “I… uh… I thought you were someone else."

His hulking frame towers over your bed, but he’s acting like a sulky, embarrassed little boy. The contrast should be absurd, but instead you find it… strangely endearing. Apparently even a high and mighty superhero can be brought low by an awkward situation, just like everyone else.

"It's okay. You didn't... um... do anything weird or anything," you say, trying to reassure him, but you can't concentrate on your words when your bladder is screaming bloody murder, "Look, can you give me a second? Just– shit. Just stay right there, okay? I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere!" you admonish him, throwing the words over your shoulder as you rush past him and into the bathroom

You nearly break your tailbone with how fast you sit down on the toilet seat, hoping to get your business done as quickly as possible and praying the whole 15 seconds that you’re gone that he won’t make a break for it and still be there when you get back. 

Thankfully, when you nearly tear the bathroom door from its hinges, he is.

The first sight that greets you is his broad and defined back framed by the amber light pouring in from your window frame. It makes for a dramatic image. Golden and majestic, he seems to occupy half the space in your tiny apartment as he stands turned away from you, apparently taking in the view from your one and only window. 

The first thing he says to you as he opens your mouth is not, ‘good morning.’ There's no ‘sorry for almost drunkenly smothering you to death last night,’ ‘how did you sleep with my hulk sized body on top of you’ or even a 'thanks for letting me sleep on your bed.' 

No. Rude, knock off, maybe-vampire Spiderman, who still hasn't told you his name, slowly turns back towards you and takes one look at your face. Then he says, "I have to go."

Which, of course that’s what he’d say and do. Of course. You’re nearly growling with frustration as you run up to him.   

"Wait!" you shout, darting around to block his path as you try to lead him back further into your apartment. "Do you want some breakfast?" 

You still don't know him very well yet, but your few interactions so far have shown you that the way to break through his grumpy defenses is through his stomach.

"I can fix you up something. I’ve got some eggs in the fridge, and I can do scrambled or fried. Maybe over-easy, though I sometimes mess up the timing.” 

You’re rambling on purpose. Speaking as fast as you can, as you continue to pull him towards your kitchen. You’re making sure he can’t get a word in edgewise, so that he doesn’t have a chance to protest before the food is in his stomach, and by then he’ll surely eat the whole thing before he starts getting sassy with you again. By then you’ll hopefully be able to sneak in one or two questions between mouthfuls. 

He shakes his head, "No, I–I have to go... I wasn't supposed to..."

Not a fan of eggs, you note. It makes sense, so far the only thing you've ever seen him eat is baked goods, probably has a sweet tooth.

"I could make you pancakes? I won't even put coffee in them, I promise," you tease gently, hoping the humor might pull a smile from him.

It doesn't. If anything, his eyes look even sadder.

He stops mid-step, and no matter how much of your weight you put in trying to herd and push him towards your kitchen, he won’t budge an inch. You’d have more success moving a bull by its horns, and considering he’s bigger built than one, that tracks. 

There’s no strain in his features, as he stays still, resistant to your efforts. "This is a mistake,” he says. “I should never have gotten involved."

He's moving again, this time away from you, stepping towards the window. Shit, he's going to make a run for it.

In the course of the last 24 hours you've managed to leap off the Chrysler building; poison the superhero standing in front of you; slept with him in the same bed; and yet somehow, through all of this, you still haven't managed to do the one thing you actually wanted: have a simple conversation with him.

"Wait, wait!" you shout out, panicky. "Can we just talk for a second? I really need to talk to you. I just want some answers.”

"I don't have any answers for you," he says. 

He's turned his back again, one hand on the window sill as he's preparing to climb onto it. If you let him leap off it now, you don’t know when your next chance will be to catch him again. 

"I'm not going to stop trying," you shout out in a last desperate attempt and that finally stops him in his tracks. 

“I’m gonna be leaving,” he says with a finality in his words. 

It doesn’t stop you though, doesn’t even discourage you. He might be stubborn, but you can give him a run for his money, because this is your life on the line.  

“Then I’ll run after you. I’ll keep chasing after you. I'll keep asking, and asking, and asking. I'm not going to stop until you give me some answers."

There’s a silence between you again. Then he straightens his posture, and turns his head just far enough that you can catch his eyes. Whatever uncertainty was there before fades away as you see the resolve in his eyes harden.

"You're never going to see me again."

There's an ugly noise. A scratch over the vinyl of a record screeching in your brain that makes you unable to comprehend his words. You have to replay them in your mind, parsing them out, before you realize what he's actually telling you.

“Wait, what do you mean never see you again!?” you step forward towards the window sill, and he visibly retreats at your advance. “As in, you're going to back to avoiding me? It’s kind of late for that, isn't it? I've seen your face... twice. We’ve slept together!"

"No," he answers brusquely, brows pulled in at a sharp angle. “I'm leaving the… area. I'm not going to be around anymore."

“But you’ll be back… right?” you ask. Some corner of your brain refuses to accept what you think he’s telling you. 

With a graceful movement, he leaps back down from the window sill, taking a step forward and leaning in until he’s looming over you, his face inches from your own. 

“No,” he repeats, emphasizing the word.

Oh… 

His words finally click. It took a few attempts for the stubborn gear in your brain to unjam, but you finally hear what he’s been trying repeatedly to tell you.

He’s leaving for good. He’s not coming back. 

You… You don’t know how you feel. Your cheeks are strangely numb. Somehow the idea that he might not be around indefinitely had never occurred to you. You’ve grown accustomed to the safe haven he’s provided. Come to rely on him and the familiar safety of his shadow lurking around every corner, the blurred blue and red rescuing you from this crazy world trying to kill you. 

A flash of cold sweat breaks out along your back. His presence is your only anchor to safety. If he’s not here… 

"But– but– if you leave…” You trail off, barely able to imagine it.

All the near-misses flash through your mind. The taco truck stampeding through the city, the subway train barrelling towards you, construction sites crashing down right above your head. So many deaths held at bay by the one man in front of you, and if he leaves… If he’s gone…

You can barely choke out the next words, your voice a strangled whisper, “...what’s going to happen to me?”

A flash of anguish breaks through his stony features before he turns away, dropping his gaze to his feet. Pained sadness bleeds into those crimson eyes, something that speaks of guilt, loss and defeat. 

"I’m sorry," he says quietly, "I can't save you. I never could. Nothing can."

And what can you say to that? You can’t force him to do more for you than he already has. He’s done a lot—much more than anyone has to, superhero or not, and you know that—and it’s selfish of you to ask more.

You swallow down the anxiety crawling up your throat and it tastes like burnt bile. 

Anyone would be lucky to have a superhero save them from certain death even once in their lifetime, and somehow you've been blessed with more times than you can count. 

In fact, you’ve been spoiled rotten, managing to escape death so many times that you've grown almost… complacent about it. Expecting him to rescue you, when really you've been living on borrowed time for months now, winning one lottery ticket after another. You've had more extra time than anyone could ever wish for.

In front of you, you see him moving again. If you let him go like this, then this is it. This is where it all ends. Without him, it’s only a matter of time before death catches up with you again—for good this time.

You shake your head, refusing the defeat. It may be selfish, greedy even, but this is your life and you can’t let it end here.

You don’t want to die. You made a promise to yourself when you fell out of the Chrysler building for the first time. 

You want to live. You want to live. You want to live. 

"Wait! Please..." You grab onto his hand, and even though you have no doubt he could break free from your desperate grip with very little effort, he stops for you.

"I don't know what's going on! Every day I walk out that door, and almost die again and again and again. I'm scared and confused, and it seems like the universe is hellbent on killing me, and you're the only clue I've got as to why. The only reason I'm still alive is because you keep saving me. I know that it’s selfish to ask you this, because you don’t owe me anything. But…” 

You pause, drawing in a deep breath, and say the words with your whole chest, “I want to live!”

He doesn’t quite flinch, but the hand at his side twitches and then he’s reaching up to you. So close, you can almost feel his knuckles grace the side of your cheek. Then he stops, a fraction of an inch from your face. 

He tilts his head to the side, like he’s listening to something you can’t hear.

Must be some other emergency your unfriendly neighborhood Spider-man needs to be on his way to. You try to push down the unexpected envy boiling in your stomach at the thought. 

Although… now that you’re listening, you can hear something too. Something like the low hum of a helicopter, growing louder all the time. 

Must be a police chopper. Traffic ‘copters aren’t allowed to fly so low.

Abruptly, the light flees your apartment. Shadow sweeps across your window and covers everything in pitched darkness. 

A blackout? But it's morning, even if the power went out, the sun should still be–

You feel it before you see it in the dark, a tight grip on your wrist pulling you. His arm slams across your waist, yanking you backwards.

The world lurches around you, receding with a deafening roar of collapsing concrete and shrieking metal. The last thing you see is the wall of your apartment disappearing in a cloud of dust and twisted metal.

Your stomach drops sickeningly. Bright light flashes across your vision in intense rainbow-colored bursts. Pink. Red. Green. Blue. You have to close your eyes as wind whips mercilessly against your cheeks, loud impossible roaring in your ears.

Is this death? Somehow you thought it would be quieter. Calm.

Still.

And then it is. Everything stops, and when you finally dare open your eyes again, there’s…

Nothing.

~ Next Issue

Dedication & Credits: To my lovely collaborator @thirstworldproblemss who is always staying up brainstorming with me, listen to my insane ramblings, plotting each scene in the outlines and helping me beta and edit and even rewrite large chunks of paragraphs I'm unhappy with til the very last minute. Truly my favorite person in all of the lands. I love you!!

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Summer Rose - An Ivar the Boneless/Reader Smut Short.

Bit of smut and fluff, some softer Ivar? I was feeling a certain way about him today, so now so can you, too!

Words - 633

Warnings - Smut below the cut, minors DNI!

Ivar is a man who wears many faces. The unflinching stare of contempt perhaps being his most famous, or the unnerving grin of a man working four steps ahead of his enemies. For you, though, your favourites are the ones he saves for when the two of you are alone.  

The look of sheer bliss as you top him is perhaps the one you love most. 

“Fuck, my love. How good you feel around my cock.” The words pour from his beautiful, full lips like wine, his hands grasped tight upon your hips while you work in serpentine against him. His thick cock ruts you fully, hitting every angle, every depth, your body cast in pure gold from the firelight, the sight of you atop him warming his heart as much as it does feed his lust.  

For this Viking, he never thought love could match the roaring flare of carnal desire, until he met you. Until you showed him, told him, made him feel it in his very bones. It mingles in waves of ebullient delight, his thumb moving to drag heat across your aching bud, sparks roaring up your spine as you cry out.  

“You are always at your most beautiful when you...” he trails off, his words deafened by your ascension, grinning with a deep chuckle as he witnesses it, your complete undoing that leaves you a shaking wreck atop him. “...when you fall apart like that for me.” 

Gathering yourself, you continue to roll your hips against him, wanting for his own pleasure to streak through him wildly, his eyes closing tightly as he groans, deep and rolling, whispering curses as the flutters of your cunt make lightning begin to flicker within his depths.  

His mouth drops open, panting hard, the icy shards that are his eyes opening to fix you with a lust drenched stare, the thickness of him splitting you wide causing pleasure to spark over your nerves, hitting the heights of a swirling tempest again with him as he fills you with thick ropes of hot spend.  

“Gods,” you breathe, fingers weaving through his as you chuckle, “I am tired now.” 

“Hardly surprising,” he pants, pulling you to him, offering kisses steeped in soft heat. “Come, love. Let me make you comfortable.” You climb from him, carefully taking to your back, Ivar pulling the pelts and blankets up over your legs, arranging the pillows plumply beneath your head. When he gazes down at you, you feel as if your heart could burst.  

He caresses your cheek, nuzzling your neck, his hand slipping down to stroke the rounded swell of your belly, shifting to kiss it. A tiny foot kicks against his mouth. “Child, you dare kick your father in the face?”  

Your laughter fills the room, Ivar prodding your bump with his finger, waiting for it. A tiny foot kicks back immediately. “She is all fire, just like her mother.”  

Ivar has stated with every confidence ever since you told him you were with child that she would be a girl. He felt it, knew it, he said, that your first would not be a son. Unlike many of his brethren who keen for an heir, he did not care an ounce that your baby would be female. “You will be a fine fighter, a fearless shieldmaiden, my little summer rose. You will be all that your mother is, and so much more. I know this, my tiny daughter. I long for the sun to grace our lands once more, for that is the time I shall meet you at last.”  

Watching him talk to your baby, seeing the look of complete adoration as he strokes your belly, you change your mind. Of the many faces Ivar wears, it is this one you love the most.  

[thelargefrye]

February Filth Fest : DAY EIGHTEEN : SIZE KINK … mature one - shot

pairing : norse god!seonghwa x greek goddess!f!reader

genre : smut, viking au, god of war inspired – so a mix of norse and greek mythology in this

word count : 2k

warnings : language, mentions of blood / fighting / weapons (swords, axe, bow and arrows, etc.), hunting for food, feeling grief over a loved ones death, long haired seonghwa in a half-up ponytail, seonghwa is mentioned to be bigger than yn

smut warnings : unprotected sex, size kink, seonghwa's got a breeding kink

honorary tag : @sanjoongie

after having traveled all over midgard with seonghwa and fighting for your lives, the two of you can finally settle down and have a moment together.

DAY SEVENTEEN ↤ SPREAD THE ASHES ↦ DAY NINETEEN

a grunt left your mouth as you were flung into a large tree. you stumbled to your feet, seonghwa swung his axe at the trolls that were around him. blood flown through the sky, some landing on his face as he kicked one troll away before rushing over to you.

his hand wrapping around your forearm and hoisting you to steady feet before swinging at another troll. a smirk decorating his lips as he gave you a side glance.

"come on now, y/n, surely someone who killed all of olympus isn't getting beat by some trolls," he says, the cockiness thick in his voice and you roll your eyes before slashing and stabbing at the nearest troll – the one who sent you flying.

"shut your mouth and focus on fighting before i kill you next," you said and seonghwa lets out a loud laugh before he jumping and hacking at two trolls and effortlessly cutting them down.

when the trolls were all dead, you and seonghwa stood in the middle of the clearly covered in blood before sheathing your weapons.

"well that was a little more excitement than what i was anticipating," he says, turning to you with a smile on his face. but seonghwa always had a smile on his face. "i remember seeing a river along the north trail, lets go wash up before setting up camp."

you nod your head and allow seonghwa to lead the way, following closely behind him as you walked down one of the many dirt paths in the forest. you notice that every once in a while, seonghwa will look over his shoulder to make sure you are still following behind. silently noting your quietness as normally the two of you are going back and forth with each other in a playful bicker.

"what's the matter?" seonghwa finally asks once you are at the river. the both of you stripped down from your bloody armor and carefully washing the blood out. there was nothing you truly hated more than bloody armor, such a disgrace.

you turn towards him, clenching your clothes tightly, "i was thinking about my family," you say trailing off and at your words seonghwa also stops his scrubbing.

his now doe eyes looking at you softly and you hate how he makes your heart flutter and stomach do flips. seonghwa only knows a little bit about your family from greece and olympus, how went on this journey of revenge for your family after zeus took everything from you. you guess his comment from earlier was making you think.

but think about what exactly you aren't sure.

perhaps settling down with seonghwa after this and finally living a peaceful life. but was that something you even deserved?

"y/n," seonghwa is close to you, his bare skin touching your own and it brings you out of your thoughts. you look at him with wide eyes, surprised by how he moved this close to you without you noticing and he easily towers over you. perhaps that's a benefit from him being a frost giant? "what are you thinking? tell me," he sounds like he's pleading almost.

"i want to live a peaceful life, but i don't think i deserve it," you tell him, a chill running over you as you feel seonghwa's hand travel around your waist and pulling you closer to him.

"why don't you deserve it?"

"i've done a lot of bad things seonghwa, killed a lot of people, gods, monsters."

"but you've paid your debt, stop living in the past and focus on now. you aren't in olympus anymore, darling. you're here with me now. i don't think hongjoong would want you to live like this, feeling guilty."

your eyebrows furrow at the mention of your dead lover. husband. you felt angry that seonghwa would mention him as if he knew him. without thinking you shove seonghwa away and the water around you two splashes up against you both. seonghwa looks at you in shock.

"don't you dare talk about hongjoong like you know him!" you feel the tears beginning to build up in your waterline, but not from sadness but anger.

"i lost him and our daughter because i was stupid! their deaths haunt me and i see their bodies every time i close my eyes. no matter how hard i try to move on i will always be haunted by their deaths and my mistakes, so don't tell me to not live in the past when that's all i can see!"

seonghwa said nothing as the two of you looked at each other. he was calm and collected while you were the definition of rage. heavy breathing, clenched fists, and tear-stricken face. his silence only made you more upset.

"i'm not asking for you to forget hongjoong and your daughter," he says after what felt like an eternity of silence. "but..." he trails off taking a cautious step towards you, "i want you to realize that you don't have to let their death weigh on you forever."

"seonghwa..."

"you said you wanted a peaceful life, well we can have one. we'll settle down at the small cabin and have our own children. you paid your debt, but you have to give yourself this second chance," he says as he stops back in front of you. his cold hand feels safe when he touches your own.

"i... i don't know," you pull away from him once more, turning away and walking out of the river, clothes and armor in hand as you walk back to the camp you two had set up at the clearing, leaving seonghwa by himself.

the two of you spent the rest of the evening and early night in silence. the two of you having traveled and been doing this long enough that you could do things around camp without actually talking to one another. seonghwa had went and brought back deer he hunted for the two of you two eat.

and so you sat at the campfire in silence, the smell of meat feeling your nose and cracking of the fire filling your ears. your mind still reeling from what was said earlier. seonghwa was right because he was always right. you didn't need to forget hongjoong and your daughter, but you needed to let their deaths not haunt you anymore.

your eyes flicker to seonghwa from across the fire, his own eyes already looking at you. he had finished eating a while ago while you were still picking at yours. he rolled his shoulders before standing up, walking over to you and pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. silently bidding you goodnight before he enters your shared tent.

you don't know how much longer you sit by the fire, long enough for it to die out on its own. you stomp out the remaining glowing embers before crawling into the tent and laying down next to seonghwa.

you think you made up your mind.

"seonghwa," you know he's awake, he always waits for you to join him as you do for him. "can we talk?"

he turns over on his back while you lay on your side to face him. your hand reaches out to take his, linking your fingers together.

"i want to live a peaceful life with you. i want that small cabin, i want our children – your children, i want to take in the wolves, i want to love you everyday that i am able to wake up next to you and after that. i want to try and let go of my guilt enough for this to happen, please help me seonghwa."

seonghwa gives your hand a firm squeeze before he's rolling you onto your back and hovering over you. you let him pin your hands above your head and you can't help the arousal that runs through you when he does it with only one hand. his black locks framing his beautiful face that his clean of blood and war and his eyes are filled with something. lust? love? something else perhaps?

his large frame bends down to kiss you, his hands groping your body as he removes your undergarments so you are now bare and fully naked before his eyes. you watch as he lowers his head and trails his lips down your body; licking, biting, and sucking different marks over your tattered and worn body.

"s-seonghwa," you moan out when he finds home between your legs and licks your pussy slowly and lazily. his eyes never once looking away from yours. he makes out with your pussy, kissing it and letting his tongue drag in and out of your pussy and licking up any juices that you leak. like he's a man dying from thirst and your pussy is his oasis.

seonghwa effortlessly brings you to your first orgasm before he's finally pulling away, but not before pressing one last kiss to your pussy. he once again towers over you, a layer of sweat covering your entire body but you happily wrap your arms around seonghwa to bring into another kiss. your taste yourself on his lips, but you honestly don't mind.

the both of you are breathless when you finally break away, "seonghwa, i love you."

"my y/n, darling, i love you more than you can imagine," he says spreading your legs easily and you can't help but clench at knowing is coming.

"seonghwa, seonghwa, please!" you beg, hands combing through his long locks and brushing them out of his face.

"you know... if we start now, i could have you full and breed by the time we get back to the cabin," he says as you feel the tip of his cockhead running between your folds. "i can just imagine it," he says, slowly pushing himself inside of you, "fuck– you would look so beautiful with my child."

you clench around him the more he pushes inside of you, back arching as his lips latch onto your breast and begin licking and sucking on your nipple.

this isn't the first time you and seonghwa have fucked, but for some reason this felt different. as he thrusted into you, your name leaving his lips and his name leaving yours, you felt full. you felt a warmth spread through you as his taller stature curled into yours and you wrap yourself around him to bring even closer – if it was even possible.

"fuck– seonghwa, i-i'm close!" you could feel your second orgasm coming and it only seemed to drive seonghwa to move his hips faster.

he gave you his smirk, his eyes glazed over with lust, "i'm going to fill you with full of my cum over and over again, darling, until your stuffed and pregnant with my child," he says and you clench at his words. seonghwa does only a few more harsh thrust before you are both cumming. you fill his cum slowly filling you up and and some of it even leaking out around his cock from how much it is.

seonghwa is breathless as he pulls out and quickly folds your legs up and stuffing any cum back into you. you can't help but feel a little flustered at how he that, eyes staring hard at your cum-filled pussy. you then begin to feel a wave of exhaustion rush over you and you are lazily pulling at seonghwa to have him lay next to you.

he lays down next to you with a small 'ugh' sound leaving his lips as he does. you cuddle up next to seonghwa, and you realize that before meeting him, you never would have done this. you rest your head on chest as seonghwa draws his fur cape over the two of you. you can't help but let out a laugh at how it doesn't even fully cover the two of you.

"i want a daughter first," seonghwa says quietly and more to himself than you. "i want to name him dal-nim. it was my mother's name."

"its beautiful."

"what would you name her?"

"idonia," you whisper back, reaching up to kiss his collarbone.

"loving one," is the last thing you hear before you close your eyes and let sleep consume you.

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network : @cultofdionysusnet @cromernet

[aikaterini-drag]

Embrace of Two Hearts

Summary: Harald has been traveling, negotiating alliances but now that he is back, he can’t take his eyes off of his wife —as well as his hands off of her.

Pairing: King Harald Sigurdson x Queen Fem!reader

Warnings: fluff, kisses, implied smut, besotted Harald.

It had been a long time since Harald Sigurdsson had left Norway to build alliances and trading negotiations with the surrounding kingdoms. The matter had required his attention and he had been forced to leave you behind so you could take care of the kingdom in his absence. You were his Queen, the person he trusted and loved the most.

After meeting with various wealthy yarls and merchants, Harald’s plans had been prosperous; he’d stricken deals to trade goods and boost the income of his kingdom.

After almost two months at traveling, he was finally back.

Harald hadn’t blown the horns to make his arrival known.

He wanted today to be a surprise.

He wanted to see your face light up and hear your happy laughter as you reached him.

So after a light meal and a much needed bath, he headed to one of the villages where he was told you had gone shopping.

With his hood pulled low over this face, he strolled along the bustling Viking village, and when he saw you, his eyes fixed on you. You hadn’t taken notice of his presence; you were engaged in conversation with some of the women selling silks and spices. Resting his great frame on one of the stalls, he took his time and watched you for a few seconds. When waiting became too much to handle, he slipped back his hood and approached you.

A loud gasp left your lips when you finally saw him. You blinked, as in disbelief and when he smiled invitingly, all dimples and sunshine, you rushed into his arms. Your husband was back! Oh, how you’ve missed him, craved him! You’ve been exchanging letters with him during his travels but nothing compared to him holding you, touching you. And there he was, tall and handsome, wearing his marvelous regal tunic and leather pants, his fur cloak, his handsome face forming a warm smile.

“Ah, there’s my beautiful queen!” he said when you practically jumped into his waiting arms.

"Oh, Harald!" You pressed your lips against his in a long kiss. “You didn’t tell me you were coming back.”

“Surprise,” he said, his lips stretched delightfully.

“Oh, how I missed you! Is everything alright? The negotiations?”

“Everything’s perfect. I’ll tell you about my feats later.” He cupped your face, his hungry eyes taking in your beauty. “Let me look at you, have my fill of you.”

“Did you miss me so much, my lord husband?”

“Only a little, my lady wife.”

"Only a little?" You raised a brow. “Then why are you here?”

“Because I lied. I missed you. Painfully. Deeply. Hard.”

You laughed. “You debauched Viking.”

He grinned. “I've hoped to distract you from your shopping. Is it working?”

You fluttered your eyelashes. “Only if you kiss me again.”

Smiling in that stunning mischievous smile of his, he lowered his lips to yours, his tongue dancing with yours wetly. The touch was too swift for your liking but since you were still in public—and everyone was staring… you drew back softly. Harald locked your hands together and led the way back to your longhouse. You walked through the hall, with him stealing kisses and whispering sweet words to you.

When he had you in the solitude of your room, he scooped you up and dropped you onto the bed. You giggled as you bounced stop the furs and pillows. He joined you, a thick knee climbing onto the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. And then he was all over you, his strong body draped over your slender frame. He watched you with eyes ablaze with the passion, his lips parted. He brought his hands to caress your cheek, his knuckles tracing your skin lovingly.

“What is it, King Harald? What has you so enthralled?” you teased, leaning into his touch.

“You,” he said simply. “My wife… my beautiful wife who outshines even the finest jewels.”

You kissed him lightly. “I’m not as charming as my strong and courageous husband.”

“I disagree. You are achingly beautiful and perfect. And I am not in the least charming.”

“Oh, you're charming. Impossibly charming.” You claimed his lips and he moaned. “Your charm is as sharp as your sword.”

Harald grinned. “My love, my sword only yields to you. Sharp and ready to service you.”

“You didn’t just say that!”

He kissed your forehead, however, his hands were skillfully dragging up your gown. “What are you thinking, my mischievous wife?”

“What are you thinking, my mischievous husband?”

“I’m thinking I missed the feel of you. And that I want you,” he said and rolled his hips gently, and even with the layers of clothes, his groin pressed hard against her center.

Whining softly, you slipped your hands under his tunic to feel his warm skin. “Me, too. It has been so long.”

“Hm… I have been denied your warmth but no more.”

“Make love to me?”

“All day and night, my love.”

He pulled you close and kissed you deeply and fervently, lips meeting, tongues brushing. The world around you seemed to fade away, leaving nothing but your love and passion. Clothes were tossed away, skin touched skin, sweat tricked like little diamonds and then came bliss.

[wholoveseggs]

Crimson Frost {Part Three}

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

Part Three

Things heat up between you and Elijah as you prepare to rescue Gerda and Henrik. In the pursuit of your sister things get bloody and an unexpected warrior comes to your aid.

♡♡ I'm sorry that this one is taking so long, there will be a part four! {and possibly five}

6k words - Warnings: Viking AU where the Mikaelsons are completely human (no magic, werewolves, vampires... etc) lots violence in this part. SMUT!, virgin!reader, hot springs, norse runes... sword fights.

{Part One} {Part Two} {Part Four} {Part Five}

It was a four day journey to the coast, a market was there that sold all kinds of things, including people. Elijah believed that was where the Blackthornes were taking Henrik and Gerda.

The snow was still high, but it had thawed enough for you to travel on horseback, the wind whipping at your face. You leaned into Elijah, his body warm and solid against yours, the scent of him filling your senses.

You were glad he was there with you, his strength and determination a comfort, especially after losing your home and family. You had fallen for him, the attraction between you growing with every day. You knew it was wrong, but you couldn't deny what you felt, the need for him, the desire.

"Are you alright?" He asked, his voice low and husky, his breath warm against your cheek.

"Aye," you said, your voice barely above a whisper, your heart fluttering at his closeness.

"We will find them, sweet Gerda and Henrik," he promised, his arms were around your waist, holding the reins, guiding the horse, "we will not let the Blackthornes keep them,"

You nodded, swallowing hard, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. The thought of them being sold into slavery, or worse, made your stomach twist.

You stopped to camp for the night, the sun dipping below the horizon, the stars twinkling in the sky. The wind howled around you, the cold biting at your exposed skin.

Elijah started a fire, the flames casting a warm glow around you, the warmth chasing away the chill. The two of you had grown very comfortable around each other, falling into a routine, each taking on the various tasks of setting up camp, cooking food, and caring for the horse.

You took a walk to go fetch some water from the nearby river, the moonlight illuminating your path. You came across a small hot spring, the steam rising into the air, the heat and humidity inviting.

You were tired and sore from the long day of riding and the idea of relaxing in the hot water was too tempting.

You took off your clothes and slowly stepped into the water, the heat enveloping you, the water soothing your muscles. You let out a long sigh of relief, closing your eyes and enjoying the warmth.

You heard the sound of twigs snapping behind you and turned, your eyes flying open.

"Elijah," you gasped, your face flushing, dipping lower into the water to hide your naked body.

"I was worried when you didn't return, I see why," he smiled, his eyes roaming over you, his gaze making your heart race.

"I haven't felt this good in weeks," you sighed, "the heat, it's relaxing,"

Elijah began to pull off his clothes, his gaze locked on yours, his body rippling with muscle.

You felt a wave of desire rush through you, your pulse quickening, a flush spreading across your cheeks. You turned away, giving him privacy, the thought of him naked making your stomach flip.

You heard him enter the water, the sounds of him splashing, his breathing shallow. You risked a glance back, his broad back was to you, the water coming up to his waist.

"Gods," he muttered, "this is wonderful,"

You let out a breathy laugh, "Aye, it is,"

The two of you faced away from each other, the silence heavy with tension, the heat of the water seeping into your skin.

"What will you do? After we rescue Gerda and Henrik," you asked, gently moving your hands through the water, creating small waves.

"I do not know," Elijah replied, his voice low and soft, "perhaps find my own land, start a family,"

"That sounds nice," you murmured, a hint of sadness in your voice. You wouldn't be going with him, your place was with Niklaus. Elijah would be a part of your past, a fond memory. You couldn't imagine not being near him, not being with him, the thought made your chest ache. "I wish you could stay with us," you whispered, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

"As do I," Elijah said, his voice thick with emotion, "but we both have our duties,"

"Aye," you said, biting your lip, tears welling in your eyes.

You glanced over at him, his back was still to you, you noticed a particularly large scar stretched across his back, the pink skin raised and uneven.

You moved closer to him, the water making soft ripples as you did, your hand reaching out to trace the scar, "what happened here?" You whispered, your fingers ghosting over the sensitive skin.

He twitched under your touch, his muscles flexing, his breathing labored. "My father, he beat me, whipped me," he said, his voice a whisper, the pain evident. "For trying to protect Niklaus,"

"I heard such rumors about your father, that he was cruel," you whispered, your heart breaking for them, and the pain they endured.

"Aye, he was," Elijah sighed, "he was not a good man, but he was still my father, and I loved him,"

You pulled your hand away, his words echoing in your mind, your chest aching for him. He turned to face you, his gaze meeting yours, his expression soft, his eyes searching.

You swallowed hard, the air heavy between you, the tension crackling. He was so close to you, his naked body inches from yours. Your breasts rose and fell with each breath, your nipples hardening at the thought of him touching you, his hands exploring your body.

He reached out and brushed a strand of hair away from your face, his fingers trailing down your cheek. You wanted to pull him closer, to feel his lips against yours, to give in to the desire burning within you.

"Elijah," you whispered, your heart racing, a flush creeping across your skin.

"Aye," he breathed, his hand cupping your cheek, his thumb tracing your bottom lip.

"I..." You swallowed hard, your body aching for him, "I should not have..."

"Do you love him? My brother?" Elijah whispered, his eyes burning into yours.

You hesitated, the truth of it all hitting you. You did not love Niklaus, not in the way you should, not the way a bride should love her groom. Your heart belonged to Elijah, even though it was wrong, even though the gods would not approve.

"I..." You started, your voice trembling, your emotions threatening to overwhelm you, "I do not,"

He kissed you, his lips soft and warm, the passion and heat between you consuming you. You lost yourself in the feeling of his body, the taste of his lips, the touch of his hands. The two of you gave in to the desire, the lust, the need for each other.

He guided you backwards towards the rocks, your back pressing against the smooth stone, the cold sending a shiver through you. 

"We should not be doing this," you moaned, the feeling of his teeth gently nipping at your skin sending waves of pleasure through you, "the gods, they will punish us,"

"Then let them punish," he murmured, his voice like a caress, "if it means I can spend one more moment with you, I will gladly accept their wrath,"

He lifted you, the water lapping around your thighs, his hands gripping your ass. The heat from his body contrasting with the cold air, the feeling of his manhood pressed against you made you feel glorious.

"I've never been with a man," you whispered, trying to conceal the nervousness in your voice, your body trembling with need, the excitement and desire almost overwhelming. "Have you been with a woman? Did you...?"

"Once," he whispered, his voice husky, "but it was not love, not what I feel for you,"

Your heart raced, the feel of his strong body, the strength of him, made you feel alive in a way you had never known.

He kissed you, his lips brushing against yours, soft and gentle. You leaned into him, your fingers tangling in his dark hair. His touch was so tender, so loving, as if you were the most precious thing in the world.

His eyes met yours, his fingers dipped below the waterline, and pushed slowly between your legs, causing you to gasp and jerk back, the sensation new, overwhelming.

He smiled, the lines around his eyes crinkling, the look of desire that filled them making your stomach flutter.

"Do you feel that?" He whispered, his fingers teasing the place between your legs, his touch eliciting a reaction you'd never imagined possible. 

"That is a taste of Óðr, the god of divine madness," he smiled and when he began moving the small nub between your legs with a calloused thumb, you moaned aloud.

He lowered his head to yours, his lips capturing yours, his tongue teasing, tasting. You surrendered to him, to the feelings coursing through you, the passion and desire burning inside you. You'd never felt like this before, the sensation of his touch, his kiss, was almost too much, your breath coming in small gasps, you were on the verge of something, something you'd never felt before.

The combination of the heat of the water, the warmth of his breath on your cheek, and the insistence of his fingers were doing something to your body. Your muscles began contracting, pushing towards something new, something blissful.

Then you felt it, ᛞᛁᚡᛁᚾᛖ ᛗᚨᛞᚾᛖᛋᛋ (divine madness) a feeling of rapture, an explosion, a storm. Your body alight with pleasure and a yearning for more of whatever he would give you.

He pressed his lips to yours, like he could taste your pleasure, and you knew you had been given a precious gift. Your hands clutched at his chest, your eyes locked on his, your heart fluttering, no longer caring that the gods might see you and punish you both. You parted your lips and with a soft moan he slid his tongue into your mouth and kissed you like he was drowning and you were air, his grip tight on your body.

You wanted more, the madness taking hold of you, your hand slipping beneath the water to caress his manhood, a thrill washing through you as he twitched and groaned.

You knew enough about what men and women did to know he could place himself between your legs, thrust forward and be inside you. You had heard some of the wives claim it hurt, while others hinted at immense pleasure. But you didn't care. In that moment, your mind was a fog of desire, your body singing for him.

He pressed himself against you, searching your eyes for permission, his gaze heavy with want. You locked eyes with him, giving him a small nod and he eased himself into you. There was no pain, only a dull stretch of pleasure and fullness. His arms wrapped tightly around you, his hips moving slowly, thrusting into you. You dug your fingers into his hair, moaning as he filled you, your bodies coming together in a dance of passion and lust.

"ástin mín (my love)" he whispered, his voice thick with desire, his breath hot on your cheek. You clung to him, lost in the moment, his body moving in sync with yours, the feeling of him buried deep inside you was more than you could have imagined.

The water churned around you, your bodies moving together, your breath coming in shallow gasps. The pleasure was building, a coil of ecstasy twisting tighter inside you. His hands gripped your waist, his gaze locked on yours, the need and desire between you binding you together, the need for release overwhelming.

And then it hit, waves of pleasure crashing through you, his body shuddering as he found his release, the two of you clinging to each other, the world around you fading away.

"I love you," he whispered, his voice low and hoarse, his eyes shining with emotion, his hand cupping your cheek. "And I do not care what the gods have in store for us,"

"Elijah," you breathed, a warmth filling you, your heart fluttering, "I love you too,"

He pressed his forehead to yours, his hand cupping your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair. You closed your eyes, savoring the moment, the feeling of his body pressed against yours, the scent of him, the sound of his voice.

"í þessu lífi og því næsta (in this life and the next)" he whispered, his gaze locking on yours, the look of adoration in his eyes making your heart race.

You smiled up at him, lost in the love you shared, "í þessu lífi og því næsta,"

Fear gripped your heart as you felt the weight of a raider on top of you. His face contorted into a terrifying grimace as he looked down at you. The stench of his foul breath washed over you, making you feel sick. He lifted his arm, intending to bring his axe down on you.

You screamed and woke up in your tent, Elijah watching you with concern. He reached out and took your hand, rubbing circles onto your palm in an attempt to soothe you.

"Come here, sweetheart," he whispered.

You moved closer into his waiting arms, settling in between his legs, resting your back against his chest, letting your head rest against his shoulder.

"You are trembling," he said, nuzzling your hair with his nose and continuing to rub small circles into your palms. "Another bad dream?"

"Aye," you muttered.

"Tell me what you saw."

"The raid, it haunts me," you said, swallowing hard, "the screams, the blood, the bodies,"

He hummed softly, kissing along your shoulder, "It haunts me as well,"

You closed your eyes, letting his gentle kisses wash over you, chasing away the darkness. His warmth and strength were a comfort, making you feel safe in his arms. You let out a sigh, sinking into him, the feel of his skin against yours a reminder that he was there, protecting you, loving you.

"You need to rest, tomorrow will be a long day," he whispered, his breath warm against your ear, his hand gently stroking your arm, his words soft and soothing.

You nodded, the memory of your dream still fresh in your mind, the images leaving an ache in your chest.

His hands began to roam, his touch sending sparks of pleasure through you. You moaned softly as his fingers grazed your skin, leaving trails of heat in their wake.

Since your first time together in the hot spring, the two of you had not been able to get enough of each other. Every night you would succumb to the desire between you. With each touch, each kiss, your feelings for each other grew deeper, the bond between you strengthening.

He would use his mouth, his hands and his body to give you pleasure, to bring you to the edge of bliss, to teach you every sinful thing you could do. He taught you how to please him, and in return you learned that you held power over him. To watch his eyes darken with lust, his face a mask of pleasure as you rode him, it made you feel like a Valkyrie.

"I cannot sleep," you whispered, the memory of your nightmare fading, the ache inside you building, your skin tingling.

He chuckled, laying back, pulling you down with him, holding you close. Bringing the furs over you, cocooning you both.

"After we rescue Henrik and Gerda, I will make love to you in a bed," he whispered, kissing along your neck, "not the ground or in a spring,"

"Or against a tree... or the side of a hill..." you smirked, a hint of playfulness in your voice, "I can keep going," you teased, turning to face him, your hand caressing his cheek, his stubble scratching at your skin.

"Aye, or that," he laughed, his hand cupping your rear, his touch sending a jolt of desire through you.

"What will happen to us?" You whispered, your expression clouding, "what will we do?"

"We will find a home, a land where we can build a life together," he murmured, his thumb tracing along your bottom lip, "where we can be together," he paused, a flicker of doubt crossing his features, "that is if you want to come with me," he whispered, the hesitation and vulnerability evident in his voice. He searched your eyes, his gaze intense, his heart open and exposed.

"I want nothing more," you replied, your voice a whisper, the words tumbling out, your chest aching, "I could not imagine my life without you," you added, leaning into his touch, his skin warm against yours. "But... What of Niklaus?" 

"He.... he will adjust," Elijah sighed, "it will not be easy, but he will understand," he said, his eyes searching yours, his expression a mixture of worry and affection. "I hope," he added, his brow furrowing.

He sat up and stretched, the sun just beginning to rise, beams of light filtering in through the opening of the tent. You watched him, the muscles in his back flexing, the curve of his rear, the broadness of his shoulders. You let your eyes wander over his body, committing every detail to memory.

"Since sleep is evading me, I shall go and hunt," he smiled, pulling his tunic over his head, his hair messy and wild, "there are still a few hours before we must leave, and I want to ensure we have plenty of food,"

You smiled up at him, nodding, "I will gather the supplies and get the horses ready," you said, sitting up and reaching for your clothes.

He leaned down and kissed you, the familiarity of his lips against yours sending a wave of heat through you. His hand cupped your cheek, his eyes filled with adoration and desire. He lingered, his thumb stroking your cheek, his eyes filled with longing and need. You pulled away, your heart racing, a flutter of excitement blooming in your stomach.

He turned and walked out of the tent, leaving you alone, your mind swimming with thoughts of him. You fastened your hair into a long braid, your thoughts consumed by the upcoming battle, the plan laid out, the odds stacked against you. A pang of fear gripped your heart, the weight of responsibility and duty on your shoulders, the fate of your sister in the balance. You shook your head, forcing the doubts away, steeling yourself for the task ahead.

Elijah returned with two rabbits, the scent of blood making your stomach twist, the thought of the coming battle, the risk of losing Elijah or Gerda making you nauseous. You usually didn't mind the sight of blood or the scent, but today it made you feel ill. You swallowed the feeling and quickly got to work, cooking the rabbits over a small fire, your mind whirling, your thoughts a storm.

"It will be a long day," Elijah said, handing you a flask of ale, "drink, it will give you strength,"

You thanked him, taking a sip, the taste of honey and berries filling your mouth. You handed the flask back to him, and he took a drink, his expression grim.

"The market will be busy, but we will be able to blend in with the crowd," he said, packing away the rest of the supplies, "there will be plenty of Blackthornes, so be wary,"

You nodded, taking a deep breath, he took your hand in his and squeezed.

"Do not lose hope," he said, his voice steady, "we will rescue Henrik and Gerda,"

You gave him a small smile, the confidence in his words easing some of your worry.

"If we get separated, meet me back here," he said, his expression serious, "and remember, keep a low profile, do not draw attention to yourself,"

You nodded and kissed him softly "I will,"

The smell of fish and salt hung in the air, the morning market in full swing. Merchants and traders lined the streets, their wares on display. Children ran and played, their laughter echoing through the bustling town.

The slave markets were separated from the main market, but the smell of death and blood still permeated the air. The screams and cries of those being sold haunted the town.

Elijah walked alongside you, his expression tense, his hand gripping his sword. You could feel the tension rolling off of him, his worry for Henrik and Gerda obvious.

As the two of you passed the slave pens, a woman caught your eye, she was sitting on the ground, her head in her hands. She reminded you of your mother, her hair the same color, her eyes the same shade.

You wanted to free her, to tell her she was going home, but Elijah grabbed your hand, pulling you along.

"You can't help them all," he said, his voice low, "we must find the young ones,"

You nodded, following him through the crowds, the noise and chaos making your head spin. Your heart pounded in your chest, your stomach churning, the anxiety and fear coursing through you.

The sight of the gallows was a stark reminder that this was a dangerous mission, that one wrong move could lead to death.

The crowd was thick, the heat and stench of the bodies pressed together unbearable. You could hear the auctioneer shouting, his words muffled, the air thick with anticipation.

Elijah pulled you to the side, the two of you standing at the edge of the crowd. You could see a few men wearing Blackthorne colours scattered about. It gave you hope that Henrik and Gerda might be nearby.

"This is our chance," Elijah said, his voice low, "keep your head down and follow my lead,"

You nodded, taking a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves. You followed him down to the water, to where they loaded the ships with cargo. The slaves were being kept there until the auction began.

That's when you saw her, your sister, chained and shackled. Her hair was matted and dirty, her clothes tattered and stained. She was thin, her face gaunt, her eyes haunted.

It took everything in you to not run to her and wrap her in your arms. You bit your lip, your fists clenched, the urge to free her nearly overwhelming.

You squeezed Elijah's arm, and he turned, his eyes widening when he saw her.

"Go, I'll distract them," he whispered, before stepping forward.

You watched as he approached the Blackthornes guarding the prisoners. His stance was relaxed, his voice smooth, his demeanor calm and confident.

You could tell the men were suspicious, their eyes narrowing, their hands gripping their weapons. But you couldn't worry about him right now, you had to focus on freeing your sister.

You approached the slave trader, a tall man with broad shoulders, his dark hair pulled back in a tight ponytail.

"How much for the girl?" You asked, nodding towards Gerda.

The man's eyes roamed over your body, his gaze lecherous, making you shudder.

"She's a pretty one," he said, his voice a low rumble, "but she's a feisty one, needs a firm hand,"

You swallowed hard, the thought of her being touched, abused by a monster like him, made you want to scream.

"So will that lower the price?" You asked, forcing a smile.

The man considered, his eyes raking over you again, "Aye, a fair trade,"

He held out his hand, and you took it, his grip tight, his skin rough. With the other hand you grabbed the dagger at your waist, and plunged it into his neck.

He collapsed, unable to make a sound, you looked around to see if anyone noticed, but the men were still distracted by Elijah. You grabbed the keys off the trader's belt and quickly unlocked the shackles around her ankles and wrists.

She blinked up at you, her eyes wide, her expression confused. The pain in her eyes broke your heart, you could only imagine what she had been through.

"Systir?" She said weakly, her voice hoarse.

"Aye, Gerda, it's me," you said, pulling her into a hug.

She clung to you, her arms wrapping around you tightly, her tears dampening your tunic.

You pulled away, helping her to her feet. Her legs were weak, her body trembling.

"You've got to be strong," you whispered, "do you know where Henrik is?"

"He was sold," she choked out, her face crumpling.

"We'll find him," you said, gripping her arm.

Just then you heard the sound of fighting. You turned to see Elijah and the men locked in combat. Blood was pouring from a wound on his arm, but he didn't seem fazed. You felt torn, wanting to help him, but needing to get Gerda out of harm's way. You knew what you had to do and what he would want.

"We need to get out of here," you said, pulling her away.

The sound of battle rang out, the clang of swords, the grunts and shouts of the men. You scooped Gerda up into your arms, and she wrapped her arms around your neck.

"Hold on, Gerda," you whispered.

She buried her face in your neck, her breathing ragged, her body shaking. You ran back to the market, slowing your pace, trying to blend in with the crowds.

You could hear the men shouting, the sounds of their pursuit growing louder. You weaved in and out of the crowds, trying to lose them. Your heart was pounding, your mind racing. Suddenly a hand grabbed your arm, spinning you around.

It was Niklaus.

You felt immense relief wash over you, seeing him there, safe.

"You're alive," he gasped, his voice hoarse, his eyes wild. "Do you know what happened to Elijah? to young Henrik?" He asked, his gaze darting around, looking for danger.

"Henrik is gone," Gerda sobbed, her face red and blotchy, "sold, not long ago," she choked out, her voice barely a whisper.

Niklaus' expression darkened, his jaw clenching, his eyes flashing with anger. "Are you hurt?"

You shook your head, "I'm fine, I'm taking Gerda somewhere safe, Elijah was fighting the men who held them captive,"

Niklaus cursed under his breath, he looked like a true warrior, his head shaved into a mohawk, the Mikaelson colors painted on his face. You could see his muscles rippling underneath his tunic, his chest and arms were covered in tattoos. The scars on his arms and face told the story of a fierce fighter, one who had survived many battles. It had only been a few months since you had seen him, but he had changed so much and so had you.

"Take her and leave," he growled, "go to the forest, hide there,"

"I won't leave without Elijah," you said, your tone firm.

He gave you an odd look, and you felt a wave of guilt wash over you. But now was not the time to dwell on it, now was the time to act.

"Stay safe," he said, before turning and disappearing into the crowd.

You pulled Gerda along, keeping to the shadows, trying to stay out of sight. The sound of battle echoed through the market, the cries of the wounded, the clash of steel. You came across the stables, her weight growing heavier with each step. You could feel her heart pounding against your chest, her breath coming in short gasps.

As you approached the stables, you could hear the sound of a man's voice, the familiarity of it making your hair stand on end. Einar.

"We need to hide," you whispered, setting her down.

She leaned against the wall, her chest heaving, her body trembling. You looked around the corner of the barn to see Henrik on the ground, Einar looming over him.

Your blood ran cold, rage burning inside you. You gripped your axe, the familiar weight of it calming you.

"Stay here, Gerda," you said, your voice low.

She shook her head and clinged to your arm, her nails digging into your skin.

"You can't take him," she whimpered, "he's too strong,"

"I have to try," you said, pulling her into a hug, you handed her a small dagger Elijah had given you, "take this, if anyone tries to hurt you, use it,"

She nodded, her eyes filled with fear.

You crept around the corner of the barn, the stench of urine and manure assaulting your nose.

"Not even worth the money I paid for you," Einar snarled, kicking Henrik in the stomach.

The boy groaned in pain, his eyes scrunched shut, his fists clenched.

"Get up, boy," Einar spat, grabbing Henrik by the shirt, dragging him to his feet.

You charged at him from behind, raising your axe and striking him in the back with all your strength.

Einar stumbled forward, dropping Henrik. The boy fell to the ground, clutching his stomach, his eyes wide with shock.

"You bitch," Einar growled, whirling around, his eyes filled with fury.

Cold fear shot through you, the sight of his scarred face, his cruel smile making you freeze. Your axe still in his back, you backed away, reaching for the dagger at your waist.

Suddenly, Henrik leaped onto Einar's back, his arms around his neck, trying to strangle him.

The sight spurred you into action, and you ran forward, stabbing the dagger into his shoulder, his scream of pain echoing through the stables.

Einar thrashed, trying to shake Henrik off, but the little warrior held on, his face grim with determination.

The three of you struggled, the fight raging, your breath coming in short gasps, the sound of steel clashing ringing in your ears.

Your body ached, the blows Einar landed, his punches, kicks and elbows leaving their mark. But you and Henrik managed to bring him to his knees.

He roared, flinging Henrik off his back, and the boy slammed into the wall, his body limp.

Einar's hand went to his waist, and you knew what was coming, he was going to grab his sword and cut you in half.

You scrambled backwards, the adrenaline coursing through you, the fear making you frantic.

You were cornered, no way out, no escape.

He raised his blade, his face twisted in a cruel smile. Gerda screamed and ran forward, putting herself between you and Einar. You cried out, trying to stop her, but she ignored you. Her face was a mask of fury and determination, her body trembling, but she didn't hesitate, didn't flinch. She stared up at him, her fists clenched, her eyes blazing with fury.

"Don't touch my systir!" she shouted, her voice strong and clear.

Einar laughed, "Two children and a woman? This will be fun,"

He raised his sword, the blade glinting in the sunlight. This was it, the moment of death. You closed your eyes, waiting for the pain, wondering if you would be worthy of Valhalla, if one day Elijah would find you there.

But the blow never came.

You opened your eyes, blinking against the harsh light. But then his expression turned to shock, a pitch fork jutting out from his chest. He fell to the ground, the weapon buried deep, a gurgling sound coming from his throat. You knelt beside him, his blood seeping into your clothes. You watched the light fade from his eyes, the life leaving him.

Behind him stood a dazed Henrik, his blade bloodied, his eyes wild with rage. He grabbed Einar's sword and threw it to you, and you caught it.

You stood up, feeling dizzy, your body aching. You could taste the coppery tang of blood in your mouth, your wounds finally catching up to you.

"Henrik!" Gerda cried, throwing her arms around him, sobbing into his neck.

He wrapped his arms around her, his expression a mixture of relief and pain.

"I'm alright, Gerda," he whispered, his voice shaking. "It's over,"

They both looked at you, their eyes shining with gratitude, they both looked like they'd seen hel, their bodies covered in cuts and bruises, their faces gaunt and pale. They had seen and experienced too much, too young. You reached out, and they both embraced you, their arms wrapping around you, their tears wetting your clothes.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, "I'm so sorry,"

"You came for us," Gerda said, her voice barely audible. "That's all that matters,"

You squeezed them both, feeling the warmth of their bodies, their hearts beating, their breathing, their life.

"Come," you said, forcing yourself to stand, "let's get you both home,"

Your horse was nearby, the stallion waiting patiently, seemingly unbothered by the commotion.

You got them both on the horse, handing Henrik the reins, he wrapped his arms around Gerda, and the two of them clung to each other, their eyes filled with hope.

"Go to the forest, wait for me there," you said, giving the horse a pat, "I need to find Elijah and Niklaus,"

"My brothers are here?" Henrik asked, his eyes widening.

You nodded, "they'll help us get home,"

The stallion took off, Henrik guiding him towards the forest, the two of them fading from sight.

You headed back to the market trying to gather your thoughts, the pain and exhaustion making it hard to think. You had to find Elijah, and Niklaus.

{Part One} {Part Two} {Part Four} {Part Five}

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[themotherofhorses]

"Simon Riley is toxic," "Simon Riley is a cold and distant man that enjoys inflicting harm on others," and "Ghost is a red flag."

Yada yada yada. Anyways.

Simon Riley LOVES cats.

When she first read his personnel file, her eyes immediately took notice of one certain detail, jotted down on a little yellow sticky note, in red penmanship. Price’s handwriting, she believed.  “Enjoys tattoo art & animals.”  SilentDove smiled at that. Simon Riley, 6’4” and with a fearful reputation that always preceded him, possessed a soft spot for animals — cats, she soon learned. He never spoke about it aloud, but there were signs: the small glances toward a stray kitty sunbathing on the sidewalk; his blue eyes softening the moment they caught sight of the kittens at the local petshop, and all the cat videos he pretended were not clogging up his YouTube history.  Yeah, there were countless signs. 

“Saaayyyy….you ever wanna adopt a kitty-cat, Lieutenant?”  “That’s above ya’s pay grade, Reyes.” 

Three months later, Dove tried again.  "A little brown kitten, Ghost, with pink beans on its toes! Imagine that!" She was holed up in the Lieutenant's office, pestering him with pictures of cats she found on Pinterest. "Brown kittens are super duper rare, y'know that, right?" she asked, showing him a cute brown cat with amber-like eyes. "Look, even the nose is brown!" But all she got in response was a stupid grunt; he didn't even look up from the paperwork he was filing out. Stubborn bastard, Dove thought to herself with a sigh. She fell silent for a moment until Simon suddenly spoke up. "I'd like a Norwegian forest cat," is what he muttered, peeking up to look at Dove. His bright, baby-blue eyes met her dark ones, and the Native American could see a certain softness pooling inside them. A smile twitched on her lips as she sat up straighter.  "Yeah?" Simon hummed. "Damn things are beauties. Ever seen one?" He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. "Wanna get me one once I retire from all this shit. Name him Shiloh, get him a bell and collar." "Shiloh," Dove breathed out, nodding. She liked the name; it sounded nice on her tongue. Shiloh…c’mere, Shiloh! "Didya know that Viking brides were given Norwegian forest kittens as a wedding present?" as her chin came to rest atop her palm.  His gaze dropped to follow the slight movement before flickering back to her face. "Is that so?" His voice dropped a little, suddenly taking on a huskier tone, instantly sending a small flutter of butterflies inside her tummy. Dove swallowed with another nod.  "Mmmm, in honor of Freyja, the goddess of love. According to the mythology, her cart was pulled by cats; Vikings loved cats, and it was a sorta…good luck for brides to have a kitten in her new household." Dove paused before adding, "—when I get married, I'm gonna ask for a kitten as well. No fancy pots, pans, or cutlery. A cat, one that I'm gonna name Ésevone." "Ésevone?" Simon repeated, cocking his head to the side.  "Buffalo in the Northern Cheyenne language."  "Ah. Ésevone," he rasped again, this time with a nod of his own. "Ésevone and Shiloh. Not bad."  A few seconds of (comfortable) silence fell over the two before— "—Y'know, Ghosty, you actually look like a TOTAL cat dad. Like you got the entire "cat dad" aesthetic down to a T." "Shut up, little bird." 

note: just a small snippet as i try to dive back into writing :D

[zuhaism]

⊹ ｡˚ 𓂃 ♡ AFTERMATH ?! ┊ kim chaewon ⁺

[ navigation | corso ]

eunchae was already passed out on her bed. the only source of light coming from her study table illuminating the room. the silence rang through the room as you were focused on solving the problem for her. eunchae had asked you for help with her math homework after finding out you were in the mathletes.

“unnie! you should’ve told me you were a nerd. now my life is going to be easier.” you smiled and patted her head “i can tutor you. free of charge” now you’re already regretting your decision. who made math so hard nowadays? you’ve been stuck at this question for so long eunchae already fell asleep.

the front door unlocking made you comeback to reality. you glanced at the clock ‘2:34 am’ you rubbed your eyes and cleaned up for eunchae before going to greet your beloved leader after her schedule.

you walked out eunchae’s room and was greeted with chaewon on the floor leaning against the kitchen counter with a viking hat on. her eyes could barely open. “chaewon-unnie?” you called out. she opened her eyes and slowly moved her gaze to you and smiled lopsidedly. “y/nnie!” she slurred out trying to stand up.

you immediately went to help her up. when your hand got a grip of her forearms she wrapped her arms around your shoulders mumbling ‘i missed you’ ‘you should’ve been there’ all that kind of stuff.

you ignored her incoherent slurs and circled her legs around your waist so you could carry her easily to the bathroom. she was still mumbling in your neck as you entered the bathroom.

you sat her down on the toilet. slowly taking off her viking hat. she was looking at your face with with doe eyes and puffed up cheeks. you wanted to squeeze her face so bad. you got some makeup remover, bending down right infront of her and started to gently rub the make up off.

you held the side of her face for a better grip. she leaned into your palm which made you smile softly. “you’re the best. d’you know that?” she slurred out as her eyes closed. your heart fluttered at her drunken words. “i didn’t know that. thank you.” you said softly. rubbing her cheek in circles using your thumb.

you’ve always cherished moments like this where her attention isn’t being taken away by the other members. compared to the other members you’re a low maintenance person. having grown up an only child alone in the house you’ve learned to be independent.

“you’re so cute y/nnie.” she said breaking the silence. she was looking at you intently with half lided eyes. you chuckled and pecked her cheek once you’re done. standing up to bring her to her room. chaewon started moving around seeming uncomfortable with her clothing.

you helped her unbutton her top. while doing so u slowly squinted not trusting your eyes to wander. chaewon giggled at your actions “y/nnie its finee you can look.” you could feel your face heating up before leaving her to take one of your sweatshirts from her closet that she’s stolen.

after putting the sweatshirt that’s engulfing her tiny frame. “can you stand?” you asked as you held her hand up. she nodded, swaying a little as she stood up and putting her whole weight on you. her eyes was closed as she held onto you while you brought her to her room.

you tucked her in pulling the blankets over tiny frame and tucked her hair behind her ear. “goodnight chaewon-unnie” you whispered softly as her eyes began to fully shut. you admired her for a while. stroking her hair softly adoring her resting face. you noticed your eyes lingering on her half chapped lips. you shook your head.

you stood up slowly, you were about to go back to eunchae’s room but a tug on your pants stopped you. you turned around and was met with chaewon’s sleepy eyes looking up at you with a pout. your heart tried not to burst when she “stay with me, please.”

without saying a word, you lifted the sheets and laid down. she instantly clinged onto you, her nose nuzzled into your neck and her hair tickling your chin. you laid awake until you heard soft snoring.

you were awoken by loud footsteps running through the hall. you stirred awake , looking down checking on chaewon. her whole weight was on you and she was dead asleep.

then suddenly the door opened “good morning!” it was eunchae. she always does this. wakes up super early on day offs and disturbs everyone. you shushed her, giggling softly because she was wearing the viking hat chaewon brought home.

before you could say anything about it, you felt movement on top of you. chaewon was wiggling around in your hold then eventually she opened her eyes and was greeted with eunchae. “what the hell” in her raspy voice. when she realised what eunchae was wearing she snatched it from her.

“hey thats mine.” she said while hugging the head. eunchae let out an annoyingly loud laugh with her head tilted backwards. “you’re silly chaewon-unnie. anyway kkura-unnie went out so im going to be making ramen for breakfast.” she pumped her fist in the air after getting approval from you.

“be careful!”

“i will!”

you looked back down on your chest and saw that chaewon was already looking at you sleepily. “thank you for taking care of me.” you played with her hair and tsked. “you dont need to thank me. im always here.”

[viking-raider]

Salt in Our Wounds - CHAPTER IV

Summary-> Gus is healing and moving about. However, nothing is sunshine around the house.

Pairing-> Gus March-Phillipps/Reader

Word Count-> 3.3k

Chapters-> I II III

Warnings-> PG-13: Language, Deception, References to WWII

Inspiration-> The one and only Chaos Major, Gus March-Phillipps.

Author’s Note-> I hope you enjoy! Line divider by @FIREFLY-GRAPHICS!

-> If you would like to get notifications for my writing! Just follow my Tag List blog, @VIKING-RAIDER-TAGLIST as well as my @VIKING-RAIDER-LIBRARY and turn on the notifications for it! It’s that easy!’ Ao3-> DRAGON_DWELLER

“You told our father what?” Edmund barked, as you met him outside the cottage, the next morning.

You had peeked out the window for him, ever since you woke.

“Well,” You sighed, closing your eyes for a moment. “It was Gus that thought on his feet and told Papa that he was working with you on things around the house.” You repeat yourself, licking your lips. “We had to tell him something, when he found Gus coming out of the bathroom, after his shower.”

Edmund carded a hand through his hair and paced on the small porch. “So, you told him that Gus was a carpenter from another village, who's come over to help me put up shelves in the basement and do repairs around the cottage?”

“Yes.” You nodded, fidgeting. “What else were we to tell him, Eddie? I just opened the front door and grabbed some random man off the street, who looked as if he needed a shower?” You huffed, a tad frustrated.

“No.” He sighed, waving his hand, a tired expression coming over his face. “No, the two of you did the right thing. I suppose it's just as good an excuse to explain him to Pops than any other.” He exhaled again and stopped pacing. “Right well, is the man handy with a hammer or saw?”

“I haven't the slightest clue.”

“I'll find out.” Edmund replied, motioning you both inside and found Gus sitting at the kitchen table, sipping a cup of coffee and reading his book.

Edmund looked at you with a lifted brow and you gave him a look that said, why not, since your father knew he was there, making your brother roll his eyes.

“Good morning, Edmund.” Gus greeted him, setting his book down.

“Morning.” He answered, narrowing his eyes at the other man, sitting nonchalantly at the table. “Are you ready to work today?” He asked, squaring his shoulders.

“I am.” Gus answered, taking a gulp of his coffee, unphased.

“Not before the two of you eat breakfast.” You spoke up, pulling your apron on. “So, park yourself at the table.” You ordered Edmund, pointing to the chair across from Gus, defusing the brewing cloud of male bravado.

Sighing, Edmund pulled the chair out and plopped into it, giving you a short nod as you set a steaming cup of coffee down in front of him. Blowing gently on it, he stared across at Gus, who had returned to his book, but felt the other man's eyes on him and lifted a brow over the top of his page. Edmund cocked a brow back at him.

“So, Gus.” Your father called out from the sitting room, having kept his own eye on him since Gus appeared upstairs.

“Yes, sir?” Gus answered, respectfully setting his book down again and tilting slightly to the side to give Mael his attention.

“Why aren't you fighting in the War?”

“Papa!” You gasped, head jerking in his direction, eyes wide and mouth hanging open. “That's rude.” You whined at him, frowning.

“It's all right.” Gus replied, smiling sweetly at you. “I don't mind.” He assured you, then looked back at Mael. “I'm a Conscientious Objector, being Evangelical.” He explained to him, causally.

Mael stared at Gus for a long while, fluttering and tapping the pencil between his fingers against his map. The sizzle of hotcake batter on the red-hot griddle and the bubble of the percolator on the counter filling the quiet space, as no one spoke. Finally, Edmund grunted, shrugging his shoulders and taking another sip of his coffee, putting the atmosphere back into some reasonable balance.

“At least, he's not a deserter or a Nazi.” Edmund commented, putting his coffee cup down and picking up the newspaper you'd set on the table.

“Exactly.” You trumpeted, nodding your head, a tingle of relief running through you, turning back to the griddle to flip the hotcakes. “How many cakes do you want, Papa?” You asked, shoveling the steaming rounds onto a serving plate.

“Three, Peanut.” He answered, still tapping his pencil, but his eyes had shifted to the uneven hardwood floor.

Nodding, you shifted three over onto his plate, before taking up a knife and cutting another in half, adding one half with his three, knowing sometimes three weren't enough, but four could be too much for him.

“Boys?” You called over your shoulder, cracking an egg onto the griddle, beside the two fresh pools of batter.

“Four, please.” Gus chimed, turning a page.

“Same.” Edmund replied, squinting at the small print of the article he was trying to read.

Humming to yourself, you finished cooking up the batter and made everyone an egg, before doling out plates. Everyone had just dug in, when a knock sounded on the door. You and Edmund tensed, eyeing each other, a silent conversation going between you.

“Don't be rude!” Mael huffed around a mouthful of food.

Sighing, you stood up and answered it, finding Dr. Tremblay on your doorstep, black bag in hand, a flood of relief washing over you.

“Oh! Good morning, Dr. Tremblay.” You greeted him, glancing behind you to Gus and Edmund.

“Good morning, mon chéri.” Tremblay smiled at you, kissing your cheek and glancing into the house and spotting Gus at the table, enjoying his breakfast. “I see my patient is feeling better.” He commented, lifting a bushy white brow.

“He is.” You nodded, stepping to the side. “Please, come in. Would you like some coffee or tea?” You asked, biting your lip nervously.

“Tea would be nice, oui.” Dr. Tremblay answered, setting his bag on the table.

Edmund looked at the respected senior and cocked a brow over his shoulder to his father, hoping to indicate not speaking of Gus's injury and real purpose in the house. Tremblay returned a squinty eyed glare, just as you set down his cup of tea, making you chuckle at the two of them.

“What's brought you over so early, Sacha?” Mael asked, forking a hotcake into his mouth, but his eyes were cast over the table.

“Oh,” Tremblay waved his hand dismissively, before reaching out for the sugar pot in the center of the table, dropping two granular, ivory cubes into his teacup. “I came to check up on Edmund.” He replied, looking at your brother with a mischievous glint in his eye. “Heard from Thom that he might need a new pair of glasses. So, I've come to take some measurements.” He said, patting his bag, still sitting on the table.

“You didn't mention anything about that, Ed.” Your father croaked, looking a bit alarmed.

“I didn't want to burden you with it, Pops.” Edmund answered, squeezing the handle of his fork. “No worries though. Doc has it under control.” He grunted, eyes shifting over to Gus.

Everyone finished their breakfast and Edmund showed Tremblay upstairs, under the guise of looking at his eyes in privacy, while Gus excused himself to the bathroom, following the two of them upstairs. You fret a little bit, picking up the dishes from the table and putting them in the sink, the feeling anxious of not knowing if Gus's wound was healing right or if he needed the antibiotics anymore. You wanted to go upstairs and join them. But knew if you did, your father would likely get more suspicious.

“Are we going to take our usual Sunday afternoon stroll around the garden today, Papa?” You asked, putting a plate on the drying rack.

“I'll see how I feel come time, Peanut.” Mael replied, leaning against the arm of his chair to catch every word the radio presenter was saying.

Nodding, you pulled out the mop bucket and carried it out to the garden, using the garden hose to fill it. Leaning against the wall beside the door, you looked up at the morning sky, steely with angry looking, iron-gray clouds drifting by overhead. You drew in a deep breath, filling your nostrils with the cool and salty scent of the sea, but it also had the faint snap of the ozone, the possible threat of chubby raindrops.

“Well, it looks like my nurse took excellent care of me.” Gus's voice chimed in your ear, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Your wound is all right?” You asked, casting your eyes up to his.

“Yes, ma'am.” He smiled, filling the doorway. “Healing nicely and should have the stitches out in no time.” He assured you, lifting his jumper a little to show you. “I also don't need any more shots! Which I am thankful for!” He chuckled, but looked at you quickly. “Not that you weren't good at administering them!”

“Oh no!” You giggled, cheeks warm with embarrassment and relief. “I'm just as glad as you are! I would have much preferred Dr. Tremblay make you take the antibiotic by mouth! The idea of sticking you, or anyone, with a needle is frightening. I'm surprised I didn't wound you further in the process.”

Gus smirked, glancing down at his boots. “I doubt you could have. I have thighs the size of tree trunks.” He remarked, biting his lip for a moment. “Your bucket!” He gasped, catching sight of the water spilling over the side.

“Oh shoot!” You snapped, twisting the nozzle off and letting out a sigh.

“I'm sorry, I distracted you.” Gus apologized, watching you tip the bucket slightly to let out the excess water.

“It's all right. I should have been paying attention.” You shrugged, grabbing the handle.

“Here, I'll carry it in for you.” He offered, replacing your hand with his at the handle.

You brushed a loose lock of hair behind your ear and watched him take it inside, before shaking your head, as if to snap yourself out of something, and followed him back inside. “You can put it right there.” You instructed him, going under the sink to grab the bottle of fairy liquid. “Are you going to help my brother?” You asked in a hushed voice, pouring some of the washing up solution in the water, while glancing over at your father, who had dozed off.

“I don't know.” Gus replied, a crease forming between his brows. “I'm not sure your brother is too fond of me.”

“Edmund is...” You sighed, resting your hands on your hips. “Edmund tends to be guarded. Many relationships in his life haven't panned out. With our mother leaving us and his wife—well, Willa has big dreams. She feels have been held back and blames him for that, by keeping them here in Saint-Thurney. So, sometimes, even when he does like someone, he gives them the cold shoulder.”

“He's waiting for the boot to drop.” He nodded, understanding.

“Exactly.” You hummed, grabbing the mop and dripping it into the soapy bucket. “Now, you need to skitter off my kitchen floor, so I can wash it.” You ordered, shooing him.

“Yes, ma'am.” Gus laughed, swiping his book off the kitchen table, gave you a grinning salute and made for the basement, casting one more look back at you, smirking as you started scrubbing the floor. “Do you want any help?” He asked, finding Edmund framing up the shelves against the cellar wall.

Edmund paused, a nail clamped between his lips, bracing his elbow against the board he was nailing, he took the one out of his mouth, answering. “Are you any good at building things?”

“I find my way around a saw, hammer and a nail.” Gus replied, looking around at Edmund's spread-out supplies. “Just tell me what you want done with them.”

“All right.” Edmund nodded, cocking a brow at him. “I need a few more boards cut. I already have them marked to length. You can do that for me.”

“Sure thing, Captain.” Gus replied, going into his makeshift room to set his book down. “What?” He asked the other man's look, lifting one of the pre-marked boards onto the sawhorses, finding the pencil measurements and grabbing the saw that rested against the leg beside him.

“Don't call me that.” Edmund growled, an angry glare in his eyes.

Gus held his gaze for a moment, a faint smirk on his lips. “My apologies.”

The two of them nodded at each other, then turned back to their work.

There was no afternoon walk to be had, the dark clouds from that morning broke open and saturated everything outside, shutting in the residents of Saint-Thurney. Your father continued to doze in his chair, unbothered by the weather pattering the roof like a percussion symphony. Gus and Edmund were still down in the basement, hard at work, coming up periodically for bathroom breaks and refreshments, and you sat at the kitchen table, sipping a cup of tea and getting lost in the world of Oliver Twist.

You paused, bringing your teacup to your lips and cast your eyes to the window by the door, sure you had heard something outside, above the rain and carpentry. But saw nothing and shrugged, taking your sip and set the cup down, returning to your sentence. However, a few moments later, you swore you heard it again; putting you on edge.

“Edmund!” You called out, slowly setting your book down, the hairs at the back of your neck began to stand up. You gasped, seeing three men flash by the window. “Edmund!” You shouted, startling your father awake, his eyes wide with panicked alarm.

A thunder of furious pounding sounded on the front door accompanied Edmund and Gus's boots stomping up the basement stairs, frantic and confused. You had rushed over to your father, in an attempt to calm him before he slipped into an episode of shock.

“It's the Patrol!” You cried, rubbing your father's back, eyes trained on the vibrating door, a stream of German demands now being shouted with their banging, mixed with accented French and English.

“Damn my eyes.” Edmund growled, gritting his teeth. “They must be doing random searches, thinking they can catch everyone inside with the weather.” He huffed, wiping at his sweaty brow and glancing at Gus, who seemed startling calm, but tense.

“We have to let them in!” You urged your brother, not liking how angry the Patrol sounded and knowing the longer you waited, the worse it would be.

“I know!” Edmund barked sharply, the gears in his brain spinning for a split second longer, before he took a long step forward and yanked the door open. “What's the meaning of this!? Are you trying to wake the dead?” He demanded, looking the three German Patrol officers over, the Sturmführer was red faced, and all of them were dripping from being forced to wait so long in the rain, for an answer.

“Inspections!” He snapped in Edmund's face, a small bit of spit hanging from his bottom lip.

“Yes, fine!” Edmund replied, rolling his eyes and shoving the door open.

No one moved as the three officers entered the cozy cottage. Your hand shook as it rested on your father's shoulder, periodically massaging it when you felt him tremble, still on the edge of a possible attack from his Shell Shock. Edmund eyed them from his place by the door, sweaty hands clenched into fists as he watched them conduct their inspections. More like a path of intrusive destruction. They yanked books off shelves, opened cabinets and tossed out their contents, pushed over furniture for amusement.

Even nicked things, when they thought the owners weren't looking.

Mael leaned forward slightly, mumbling to himself, causing you to frown. You tried to kneel down to bring your ear close to his mouth and listen to what he was saying, worried for him, but were stopped by one of the officers. He grabbed you roughly by the arm and yanked you up, barking something at you in German that you didn't understand.

“Please, he's not well!” You protested, tugging against him, desperate to care for your father before he slipped too far.

“Nein, bleib, Hexe!” He barked at you, making you cry out, his grasp tightening.

Before Edmund could blink, Gus was halfway across the kitchen, trained on the German holding you, like a bull seeing red. Snarling, with nostrils flaring, Gus twisted his fist in the officer's uniform and yanked them together. Forcing the other man up onto the tip-toes of his black polished boots in the process.

“Let her go!” He barked, giving him a good shake, for effect.

Startled, he let go, you tumbled to the floor at their feet, and rubbed at the burning handprint that was left behind. The air in the cottage thickened dramatically. One of the officer's comrades came rushing in from the garden, hearing the commotion, and fumbled for his sidearm. While their leader came flying downstairs.

“What is this!” The commanding officer demanded, glaring at Gus as he continued to hold his subordinate. “Put my officer down! At once!” He ordered, when Gus didn't move, showing no fear or reluctance towards the three of them, unlike you, Edmund or your father. “Who is this man?” He barked, looking between your brother and father.

“Answer me, at once!” He screamed, face turning red again. “Or I'll have him shot!”

“No!” You cried out, frightened. “Gus, let him go!” You begged him, pulling on his pant leg, desperately. “I'm fine, please!”

“Answer!” The officer growled at the lot of you, his limited patience wearing thin. “Oswin!” He hissed at his officer, who was now pointing his Walther p38 at Gus. “Shoot him!” He ordered, with a hard jerk of his head.

“He's my sister's fiancé!” Edmund blurted out, as Oswin pulled the pistol's slide back, his eyes wild in the heat of the moment, before collecting himself and saying more calmly. “He's just my sister's fiancé.” He gulped, meeting your eye as you looked up at him, stunned, and caught off guard by the omission.

“What man wouldn't protect his betrothed?” He asked the Storm Leader, moving his eyes to Gus.

“A lesser man.” Gus replied, taking the cue, then looked at the commanding officer. “And I'm not a lesser man, to have your filthy runt put his hands on my girl.” He growled, shoving the man away.

“Why have we not seen you before?” He demanded, looking Gus over.

“He was serving, but just returned home, after being wounded.” You explained to him, looking up at Gus. It was the easiest bit of information to give, for them to believe, Gus could show them his wound.

“Is that so?” The officer asked, cocking a brow.

“It is.” Gus answered, pulling up his jumper to show them his bullet wound. “I was wounded in Belgium and discharged. So, I came here to be with her and recover.”

“Can anyone other than those here confirm your story?” He asked, narrowing his eyes at the lot of you.

“Yes.” Edmund chimed in, feeling like the situation was on decent grounds. “Dr. Sacha Tremblay. He's been doctoring his wound since he's been back.”

“I will be checking and informing the Director General.” The Storm Leader warned the three of you, and the look in his eyes hinted at his misgiving, waiting for one of you to crack.

“Very well.” Edmund answered, his tone bland, shrugging one shoulder.

The senior officer stared the three of you down for a second longer, before looking to his men, inquiring in German if they had found anything. But the two replied in the negative. There was no contraband or anything that could get any of you in trouble as collaborators to the French Resistance or Allied Powers. Despite Gus standing right there in front of them, plain as day.

Whether they knew that or thought they had enough evidence to take you in, was another story entirely.

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

Norsemen & Anglo-Saxons Chapter 3

Any Viking/Norse words and customs were found on Google, so if it's incorrect please educate me!!

Summary: Princess Y/N has a secret that her parents are ashamed of.  A conquering Viking chief recognizes the gift she has.  Will they be able to bring peace between warring people, and maybe find love along the way?

Viking!Bucky Warnings: eventual smut, abuse, violence, animal attack, blood

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Y/N held Bucky’s arm as he led her through the village.  People who hadn’t been down by the shore watched her walk by, some of them bowing and others smiling widely.  They reached a tall black structure, the hof, or temple as Bucky explained, and she was separated from Bucky and brought inside.  She followed Winnifred until she was presented to a group of women who were surrounding a bath.  They were all in simple strapped dresses, as the heat of the water dampened the air heavily.

“We must prepare you for the marriage ceremony tonight,” Winnifred said.   Y/N nodded, trying to relax the nervous flutter of her heart.  “They will take care of you, and I will come for you when they’re finished.”  Y/N was stripped and washed extensively.  Her hair and teeth were brushed and cleaned, her body scrubbed in all the crevices, even in spots she was embarrassed being touched.  She took it all in stride, assuming that it was customary.  When it was all done she was dried off with a fine blanket and then dressed in an outfit like what Winnifred was wearing, but the dress was a dark green color and the fur adorned on her shoulders was that of a fox, the red complimenting the dress nicely.  Her hair was braided and her fingertips dipped in a red paint that dyed her skin quickly.  She was given a necklace that attached to her dress made of beads, metal and bone. A circlet crown was placed atop her head nestled in her hair, made of finely woven metal, more beads and tiny pieces of gold.  

Winnifred came to collect her and brought her to the front door of the temple.  “I will present you to our people, and you will be given a new name,” she explained.

“A new name?” Y/N questioned.  “What’s wrong with my name?”

“Nothing, my child.  You will go by both names.  Y/N, your English given name, and a new Danish one, given by prophecy from a seer…me,” she gave Y/N a wink.  Y/N nodded as Winnifred tapped the doors with her staff.  They opened instantly from the outside and Y/N was greeted by everyone in the village, torches lining the way as nightfall set in.  Winnifred led her out into the small clearing in front of the temple.  “I give you Y/N, a lost daughter of Freya, our soon-to-be Drottning and wife of my son, James.”  She lifted her hands towards the sky.  “I call upon our Aesir!  We present this child to you for reclamation!”  Her hands shook and a faraway rumble of thunder was heard, making the crowd of people mumble as they watched the sky.   The clouds seemed to clear for a moment, and as the stars peeked through Winnifred smiled.  “Astrid,” she beamed.  She placed her hands on Y/N’s face.  “Y/N  Astrid, daughter of Freya, Drottning of the Danes, child of the stars.”

The crowd of people cheered as Y/N smiled at Winnifred.  Winnifred led her to Bucky who stood nearby.  He had also bathed and was dressed in a long dark red tunic, brown pants and deep brown boots, an even longer fur coat on his shoulders.  His braids and hair adornments were renewed and he wore a necklace with a round pendant.  Y/N gawked at him, appreciating him all cleaned up as he took her hand, leading her through the people.  Many of them reached out their hands to touch her, speaking to her in their language and some in English congratulating her and welcoming her.  Bucky led her to a clearing in the middle of the village with a large bonfire heating the area.  There were garlands covered in flowers and fruit, furs placed throughout the seating areas, and people playing instruments she didn’t recognize.  A few women were singing along with the music, their voices hauntingly rippling through the air.  Something about the whole thing felt so right, so comforting, so true, that Y/N fought back tears watching them celebrate.

They approached an arch made of horns where another woman dressed similar to Winnifred stood.  As people got into positions around the fire and seating areas the woman held her hand up to quiet the players and singers.  She held up her painted red hands that were holding a braided rope that was made of fabrics, ribbons and a strip of a black animal pelt.  

“Frigg!  We bring to you a couple wishing to bind themselves together in life and beyond.”  She gestured to them to give her their hands.  They presented their entwined hands to her and she proceeded to bind their hands together.  She started what sounded like a prayer in their language and Bucky lowered his head.  Y/N followed quickly.  As the prayer continued Y/N felt her power flowing through her without thinking about it or calling upon it herself.  Her hands began glowing in the binding, and as the woman’s voice rose in volume the power seeped into Bucky’s hands.  He didn’t react at first until the power seemed to inject into the veins of his hand.  His eyebrows furrowed, then a low hiss passed through his teeth, and then he began to shiver as the green light zapped through him.  Y/N looked on in horror, trying to release his hands but unable to because of the binding.  She looked at the woman, who was still chanting, and then behind her to Winnifred, who just nodded at her with a serene look on her face.  Bucky shivered more violently then suddenly stopped, his body almost going rigid before a heavy sigh left his mouth.  The woman finished her prayer and did the motion in front of her face that Bucky and Winnifred had done in greeting before turning towards him.  

“Awaken, White Wolf,” the woman said quietly.  Bucky’s eyes opened and he blinked rapidly until his gaze met Y/N’s eyes.  She gasped upon seeing her power flash in his irises before it disappeared.  “You now share the power of Freya, Jarl.  She has bestowed her gift through her daughter to you.  Your children, their children, and their children and so on will carry this power, this gift, this responsibility.  Treat it well and with respect, else it will be taken from you and lost forever to the land and its people.  May it bless your lives together.”  She reared back and let out what almost sounded like a howl.  The people around them all did the same.

“Frigg and Freya bless this union happily.  You may seal this marriage with a kiss.”

Bucky still looked shocked at what had just happened but smiled as he leaned down to Y/N.  He pressed his lips to hers as they shared their first kiss.  The people around them cheered, and yet Y/N couldn’t hear them.  She was too entranced by his lips, the softness, the tenderness, but most of all the fire it ignited deep within her.  A rush of their now combined power flowed through them and melted into the ground below them, creating another whistling wind that sounded like laughter and a rumble in the earth that sounded like a hum of acceptance.

He pulled away and grinned widely at her.  The woman untied their hands and Y/N immediately brought her hands to his face.  “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know what was happening, I didn’t mean to hurt you–”

“I’m fine, my Drottning,” he kissed her nose.  “I feel…reborn.”  Y/N huffed out a laugh as she scratched his beard, the worry still etched on her face.  “Now we celebrate, Asynja,” he pulled her along to one of the seating areas and pulled her into his lap.

The night was filled with songs and dances and performances.  There were even fights, with the people making bets on who would win.  Mead flowed heavily and food was shared as the night drew on.  Y/N was approached by many of the people, some of them just to say hello, others to bless her and Bucky, and others who asked for blessings from her to their children.  Y/N didn’t know what to say, and yet each time something deep inside her seemed to take over and the words just spilled from her mouth.  After hours deep into the night Winnifred stepped forward.

“It is time for the union to be completed,” she motioned to Bucky and Y/N to follow her.  There were some “oohs” and “aahs” and whistles heard through the crowd as Bucky excitedly pulled Y/N out of the clearing and back towards the temple.  Once they’d reached it the women who had bathed Y/N before opened the doors for them.  A large bed had appeared in the temple where benches and tables had once been.  Y/N tensed as she knew what was to come next.  “Here I leave you.  Congratulations my dear Bucky,” she took his face in her hands again, giving his cheeks a pinch, “and welcome to the family, Y/N Astrid,” she walked up to Y/N and pressed her forehead against Y/N’s forehead.  She gave them one final head bow then retreated back towards the clearing.  

Bucky pulled Y/N into the temple and the doors were closed behind them.  Y/N was still tense as she stared at the bed.  The temple was warm, making her start to sweat under the fox fur she wore, but she was afraid to make the first move and take anything off.  She knew what the wedding night entailed, how it was done, but had never done it before herself.  It was a strict rule that an English princess was to be untouched by anyone until her wedding night with her new husband.  Y/N didn’t know if the Danes had different traditions.

“You look afraid,” Bucky observed. 

“That’s because I am,” Y/N answered quietly.

“So it’s true?  The English don’t let their royals do anything until marriage?”

“Yes,” Y/N glanced at him, surprised.  “At least, they try.  Have you done this before?”

Bucky shook his head.  “No, but not because I wasn’t supposed to.  Just because, well, war,” he said somberly.  “Never got the chance.  Or found someone I’d be willing to be with.” Y/N nodded, her eyes flitting around the room.  Her breathing became heavier as her nervousness gripped her heart.  “Hey,” he stepped in front of her.  “It’s going to be fine.  We will learn.  Together.”

Y/N nodded again as she tried to slow her breathing.  Bucky pulled her chin up with his finger so she would look at him.  He leaned his face down to her and brushed his lips down her cheek leaving a wake of small kisses across her nose to the other cheek, and then hovered above her lips.  Y/N’s eyes fluttered as she watched him, her eyes flicking back and forth from his eyes to his lips.  He pressed his lips against hers like he had for their first kiss, then angled his head to deepen it, pressing more firmly against her mouth.  The fire deep within her was ignited once again as his lips moved against hers.  Her hands gripped his shirt as his arms wrapped around behind her and pulled her flush to his body.  

Bucky walked backwards with her until the back of his knees hit the edge of the bed.  He slid his fur off and then broke the kiss and sat.  His hands slid from her face to her shoulders and unhooked the fox fur off of her, then slid behind her and untied the back of her dress.  It loosened around her and she let it slide down her body.  She wore an almost sheer underdress and some underwear underneath it.  Bucky pulled her underwear down and helped her pull the underdress over her head until she was left bare before him.  Y/N instinctively started to cover her breasts with her arms, her legs trying to cross to cover her most private parts, but he held her still.  “You’re beautiful, Y/N, don’t hide from me.”

He leaned forward and kissed her stomach then dragged his lips across her skin to the underside of her left breast.  He kissed it, making her shiver, then licked his way to her nipple, giving it a soft lick and then sucking it into his mouth.  Y/N’s hands shook as they laced behind his head, holding him against her as he nipped lightly at her skin.  His hand went to her other breast and massaged it, his fingers rubbing her other nipple.  

Y/N’s knees felt like they were about to give out from the pleasure she felt at just his mouth and fingers on her.  She gasped as he switched breasts, his mouth now laving at the opposite nipple.  He let out small whimpers as he sucked and licked her, his breathing becoming faster.  Y/N moaned at a particularly hard suck, her head falling back.  Bucky’s metal hand slid down in between her legs, his fingers rubbing her lower lips until he found the little spot that had her nearly buckling against him.  The metal against her skin felt glorious.  His mouth let her breast go with a pop and he stood.

He turned and pushed Y/N onto the bed and motioned for her to scoot up as he kicked off his boots.  He pulled his shirt, pants and underwear off and stood before her.  Y/N’s heart rate jumped as she looked at him.  The contrast of his metal arm against his skin was tantalizing, but she was shocked by the amount of markings he had on his body hidden under his clothes.  A tapestry of animals and runes littered his torso and his right arm.  As her gaze wandered down she audibly gulped.  This man was huge in every way.  Her widened eyes made him laugh.  “It will be alright, Drottning,” he said as he crawled onto the bed.  “I will get you ready for me.”  He laid on his front and hooked his arms around her legs, pulling her body towards him so that her core was in front of his face.  She tensed, not knowing what he was doing.  He felt her hesitation and smiled up at her.  “I’ve been told that this helps.  You’ll like it, I promise,” he winked at her.  Y/N nodded.  He kissed her thigh and then dipped his head down.  She wasn’t sure what to expect until she felt his tongue lick her slit and she gasped loudly.  He licked her lower lips languidly then would dip further into her and flick at her entrance.  He moved upwards and found that spot again, flicking his tongue quickly on it.  Y/N’s back arched, her hips trying to twist out of his iron grip, not because it was painful but because it almost felt too good.

“Bucky…” Y/N moaned, her hands pulling at his hair.  It only spurred him on, a deep hum from his mouth vibrating into her pussy, making her squeal.  He sucked on the spot and unlooped his flesh arm from her hip.  She felt one of his fingers start to prod at her entrance that was quickly getting wetter by the second.  He slipped his finger in then thrust it in and out slowly.  Y/N felt a tension deep in her gut start building.  He slipped another finger into her, stretching her as he thrust them in and out, picking up in speed as his lips sucked her spot into his mouth.  The tension was making her see stars, her legs trying to clamp shut around his head.  He then sped his fingers up again and started flicking the spot harshly with his tongue.  Y/N moaned loudly as the sensations all became too much and she felt the tension snap inside her.  She felt a gush come from her by Bucky’s mouth as she nearly ripped at his hair.  Her legs shook uncontrollably and her hips bucked violently.  The feeling started to ebb away and Bucky pulled his fingers out of her, licking some of the liquid that came from her before pulling himself up.

“Taste so good, my Drottning,” he said in a husky whisper.  He lifted his wet fingers to her mouth.  She opened her mouth instinctively and he put them in, making her taste herself.  She moaned a little at the taste as she tried to breathe normally again.

Bucky’s fingers retreated and he put them in his own mouth, licking up anything left she didn’t get.  He spread her legs further apart and settled between them, his hips inching closer to hers.  Y/N tensed again, knowing what he was about to do.  “I don’t think it will…” she started, then shut her mouth.

“I’ll go slow,” he promised, kissing her again.  “Tell me if it’s too much.”

Y/N hesitantly nodded.  Bucky took his stiff cock in his hand and pumped it a few times, making himself moan, then lined it up with her pussy.  The head of it slowly pushed into her, making both of them groan.  Y/N tried to relax but felt herself tensing at the intrusion.  Bucky stopped and began sucking at her breasts again, distracting from the pain and pressure.  As he worked her into another pleasurable frenzy he would slowly inch forward, until he was fully sheathed inside of her.  Y/N appreciated him going slow, letting her adjust to him, and when he was all the way in she sighed.

“It feels…so full…” Y/N said dreamily.  The fullness was making her feel delirious, like she had been missing something she didn’t know was a possibility.  If it always felt this good she wanted him inside at all times.

“So tight, Asynja.  Ah,” he gasped as her pussy fluttered around him.  “Gods, you feel so good…so right,” Bucky slowly pulled back then pushed forwards, letting her feel every part of him.  Her hips trembled again, her legs wrapping around his hips as he continued to thrust in and out of her.  She looked down at where they were joined, watching him move in and out of her, the sight making her whine deep in her throat.  Bucky moaned at the noise she made, pulling her head up with his hand and kissing her passionately.  As their tongues entangled his hips started moving faster, making her gasp against his mouth as her eyes rolled back in her head.  “Feel good, my Drottning?  You beautiful, powerful, strong woman…destined for me,” he whispered against her ear as his head dropped into the crook of her neck.  He thrust harder into her, making her fingers dig into his back.  “Mine,” he nearly growled as his hips rolled.  

Y/N felt a heady drunkenness setting into her mind, her head feeling foggy as the pleasure took over all of her senses.  She felt herself nodding as he claimed her.  “Yours,” she babbled,  whimpering with each hard thrust as the tension built again deep in her core.  “Your Drottning…your Asynja…my Bucky…”  Bucky suddenly hauled himself up, holding her against him so that he was thrusting up into her.  The angle made her yelp as he felt even deeper than before.

“That’s right, you're mine…I’m yours…Y/N Astrid, my star,” he pulled her down onto him as he thrust upwards.

The snap was unexpected and even more tightly wound this time, so much so that when Y/N screamed his name it reverberated through the temple.  She clung to him as her entire body tensed and she gushed around him.  Her pussy squeezed him like a vice and he shouted as he finished inside of her.  Y/N could feel him filling her up and it prolonged her shaking around him as she whimpered with each shock she felt spread from her pussy.  Bucky fell to the bed, stopping himself from crushing her at the last second.  They lay together, sweaty and exhausted as they came down from the high.  

Bucky turned his head and kissed Y/N’s cheek softly.  She smiled, her tired eyes blinking slowly at him as he rubbed his nose against hers.  “I think we’re pretty good at this,” he huffed out a laugh.  Y/N giggled, then groaned as Bucky slid his cock out of her, making him hiss.  He lay next to her as they both stared up at the ceiling.  Y/N felt around for his hand and laced her fingers in his.  Bucky smiled widely at the gesture.

Just as Y/N was on the brink of falling asleep she felt a fur being draped over her and a kiss to her forehead.  She smiled dreamily and snuggled close to Bucky’s warmth.  She had done it.  Married the supposed enemy, created an alliance that brought peace to his and her people, and found a new home that was accepting of her and the magic she possessed.  She missed Alfie terribly, but hoped that in due time, if her ability had shown her correctly, he would be alright and become the great king he was destined to be.

**picture is A.I. from Pinterest, unknown original "artist" or "creator"**

@wintrsoldrluvr

[blakeswritingimagines]

How do you love (Kinktober day 6)

Warnings: Fear play, Begging, Under tones of edging, Possessive Dom Ivar x Sub Fem reader

Word count: 1.9k

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Vikings characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

You whimpered as you shook your head as he took and used you while you had tried to stop him, hearing him only laugh at your attempts as it seemed to only move his hips harder against your own as your nails dug into his back. Moaning his name softly as your head tilted back and your legs wrapped around his waist holding him close "Ivar please." "My lovely wife is begging me now. Please what?" Ivar asked between labored breaths, his voice dropping low and rough. His eyes remained locked on you as he moved his body over her, pushing his hips as far into your body as he could. Ivar replied in a teasing sing-song voice, pulling away to smirk. "Beg more for me."

You furrowed your brows and bit your lower lip. Beg more? you thought and paused for a moment, then whispered, "Please… you are hurting me, my love. Please… be gentle… I beg you…" You whispered quietly but still trying to not show any signs of actually wanting to give in. "Is that what you want, for me to be gentle?" Ivar asked between breaths, looking down at you with a mocking, amused smile. "Why would I want to do that?" Ivar grabbed your chin tightly between his fingers, keeping you from looking away as he asked his next question. "That doesn't sound like begging, my lady. Why don't you try again with a little more conviction?" He taunted, his voice still low and rough as he moved his hips harder. He could feel your legs wrapped around him, holding tight.

You were starting to moan more and pleasure was starting to overwhelm your body, which showed by your eyes wide and mouth slightly open. You took a deep breath before whispering "Please…my love… I beg you… don't hurt me… I love you… and I just don't want to be hurt anymore. Please, my love…" You whispered in the most innocent voice you could muster while tears started rolling down your cheeks. You kept silent, pretending to fear anything you would say could make things worse. Ivar was satisfied by how convincing your voice was. He felt your body shaking under him, and the sounds you made as you moved with his fast-paced hips. He lowered himself until his body was pressed against yours before leaning down to kiss your neck softly. "Now that's better," he whispered softly, as he continued kissing the side of your neck, leaving hickeys on your soft skin. "What would you do if I told you to beg for more, my love?" he asked in a low and rough voice. "Again." He ordered, leaning over you as he looked up at your face. His eyes were piercing. "This time show me some fear." He demanded, a cruel smirk crossing his lips.

You let out a soft moan of pleasure as Ivar kissed your neck, your eyelids fluttering shut. You couldn't help it, you liked him hurting you. The feeling of his lips on your delicate neck was driving you crazy and made you wet between your legs, wanting more. "Please, my love… I beg you…" You whispered, your voice sounding meek and scared as tears slowly rolled down your cheeks. "Please… I just don't want to be hurt anymore…I am yours…and I… I just don't want to… please." You cried, your voice trembling as you spoke through the pleasure. "My, what a convincing performance," Ivar replied, leaning over you again with a cruel smirk. He kissed your neck, his tongue gliding across your skin as he bit the tender flesh softly. He paused to study you for a moment, his breathing quickening as he drank in your fear. "Good girl." He said finally, his eyes flickering over your exposed body, "You might be able to convince me to stop. However, I am afraid you will have to speak louder than that," He mocked, bringing his lips closer to your ear. "I am a hard man and I need to feel your desperation with my ears as well as other parts of my body." He whispered, teasing you and bringing his hips closer to yours. "Tell me how much you love me and that I am the only one for you." He ordered.

Your breathing got heavier and your heart started to beat fast as you felt your own wetness on your thighs. Your eyes were still shut, and a soft moan left your mouth as you felt Ivar's tongue on your neck. Your breath was coming in short, ragged gasps as you listened to Ivar's words. The thought of him hearing you beg for mercy and having you begging at his feet got you extremely hot. A part of you that was already submissive was taking over and you didn't seem to notice. "Please… my love…" You whispered again, begging for him to continue to hurt you. "Please… don't stop… I need you I love you, Ramsay… I need you…" Your voice sounded like a whisper. "You are the love of my life… my one and only love… and I belong to you, my love… I am yours… My body, my everything." You breathed heavily, loving every moment of what was happening. "That's more like it." He said, smirking. "Good girl." Ivar's movements became more aggressive and he brought himself closer to your neck, kissing and giving little nips to your soft skin. His hips began to rock with more intensity as if he couldn't resist himself or hold himself back. "No." He whispered, his lips close to your ear. "You will do better." Ivar was getting close, and he could feel your body shuddering from the touch of his lips. He kissed and licked your neck slowly as he kept his hips pushing into yours roughly, "Beg." He commanded. "Beg like the good girl you are."

"P-please!" You cried, your voice sounded weak and in need of help. "I-I need this, my love!" Your voice still showed a sign of fear, trying desperately to not look weak but at the same time showing your need for Ivar. "I-I need you, my love." You moaned out loud, your voice breaking. "P-please, I am yours." You begged for more, begging for Ivar to give her all of him. "That's what I thought." Ivar muttered, before looking up at you and pressing his lips close to your ear once more, as if to whisper something. He held the moment for a moment, before letting out a vicious laugh as he bit down hard on your neck, right above your shoulder. He held the bite for a moment, before letting go with a wicked grin, looking back at you, his eyes cold as ice. "Tell me again how much you wanna come around me." He demanded. You moaned out loud as you felt his tongue on your shoulder continuing to mark your body and your nails dug into his back. There was no way to control your body as you kept moving in accordance with his, each thrust of his hips drove you closer to the edge. Your breath was getting heavy and you moaned his name loudly once again. "Please, I can't hold it in any longer," you begged again. Your body quivered and you felt the intense pleasure spreading throughout.

"Oh, my dear lady, that pleasure is mine to command." Ivar said teasingly, letting out a low chuckle, "Speak to me, my love. Tell me again how much I own you. How much you need me, my love." He teased, before whispering something in your ears. Something that only gave your body further tingles. You looked at him as he kept whispering into your ear, your lips parted slightly and you groaned his name again. He felt your body trembling as he looked at you. "Please, I'm yours. I want nothing more than that." You begged him. "I need you so much, my love." You felt his breath hot and heavy against your skin, you felt his lips kiss your neck, then your shoulders, and down along your chest. "Just take me, Ivar." You begged again. "Oh my love, your begging is really quite pitiful. Perhaps I am being too kind to you." Ivar whispered, letting out a low chuckle, that turned into a grin after a few moments, "Please tell me that I am the cruel, brutal, cold, and sadistic bastard that you are hopelessly in love with. I want to hear you beg again."

"Yes, yes you are cruel, vicious, and cold. And I can't live without you." You felt his hands moving over your body and down your legs. "I need you, please don't stop." You begged. Your body trembled under him as you felt every move he made. Your breath was heavy as you heard him whispering in your ears again, your body trembled once more as you closed your eyes and tilted your head aside. "Please, my love, please." You moaned. You felt the lust take over you and consume you completely with no turning back. "My love, I need you," you moaned again. You opened your eyes once more. "I know of nothing else except your love for me." You sighed. "I love you with all my heart. You are the most beautiful man in the world." "Your begging and praise fuels me. It makes me feel powerful and in control. I love listening to the sweet sounds that come out of your lips. How you beg for me and crave me. Knowing that my mere presence fills you with a rush, and makes you squirm with a burning passion. It just makes me want to have you always." Ivar whispered, moving his hands up your thighs as he looked up at you, smiling and breathing heavily before letting his rough fingers tease your clit.

You couldn’t wait anymore, and as you felt him teasing your spent body your climax was rising, you couldn’t hold anymore. And you let out the biggest, sweetest, and most passionate sounds he may have heard. With the heat from his touch, your body was shaking and trembling even more, and you couldn’t hold it anymore as you tightened around his cock. While all this time he knew it was coming soon, the feeling of him made you want to feel it more and more. It was a mix of the feeling of the sensation you were experiencing and the heat he made you feel. "That's it, my love, let go of it, feel it, and enjoy it all," Ivar whispered as the sounds of pleasure from your lips filled his ears. A grin danced on his lips as he felt your body shudder from the immense pleasure he was providing you, and Ivar could feel his own climax nearing. His own breathing got heavier, his movements becoming more forceful and eager feeling you milk his cock.

You gasped due to the sensitivity as Ivar moved a little closer to your body. His lips brushed against your neck as your body shuddered from the sensation, "You are mine and I am yours, my love. I control your every emotion you experience, I make you feel things that no other human being will ever make you feel. This pleasure, this bliss that I give you is mine and yours, and no one else's. I am your master, you are my slave. There is nothing else to it." He whispered into your ear before he kissed you tenderly on the lips.

[alicedopey]

Random thought: Harald pulling you close on a cold morning, asking if you're willing to spend the day keeping each other warm under the covers. - Zombie

In Bed with the King

(gif credits to its creator)

Fandom: Vikings Pairing: Harald x (Wife) Reader Genre: Smut(-ish) Words: 614 (Drabble) Warning(s): It's a little bit smutty people so don't like it, don't read it. A/N: I wanted fluff but Harald would not cooperate so it turned naughtier than I thought. Hope you will like it @thezombieprostitute

Your eyes fluttered open as the soft hues of the morning sun lightened the royal chamber. The snowstorm that has started yesterday evening was apparently done. It was still very cold though, you thought as you slid out an arm to rub the sleep from your eyes. A faint shiver ran through your body and you quickly put your limb back under the furs, meeting the hand of your husband resting possessively on your middle. You smiled and tenderly stroked his skin, enjoying the contrast between the two of you. He grumbled but pulled you closer and kissed your neck. The tickle of his beard made you giggle and you tried to get away from him. 

“Stay still, woman. Let me enjoy my morning kisses”. His lips followed a path down your neck and along your shoulder, sending shivers of pleasure through your whole body. His hand slowly glided along your upper body and stopped on your breast before kneading it.

“Harald, we have to stop”. You whispered though you did nothing to stop him and your body even started oscillating against his. 

“Why is that, my Queen?” Harald asked between kisses, never ceasing his sweet torture. His hand left your breast to travel down your body and you found the strength to stop him just as he was about to reach your sex. 

“Because, my King.” You inhaled deeply, fighting your own lust. “We have some duties to attend.”

“No, we don’t.”

“Yes, we do.”

“No, we don’t.” He intertwined your fingers and kissed your shoulder again. “In fact, we are going to spend the day under those furs and keep each other warm.”

“Must I remind you there was a snowstorm yesterday and that our people…”

He cut you off with one of his hoarse and seductive chuckles. “Who do you take me for, woman? I’m not a heavy sleeper like you. I have been up since dawn with several of my men.” 

You let out a mock outraged scoff and managed to turn around so that you were facing him. “Really? An old man like you?”

Harald laughed heartily. He did not take any offense on this recurring banter between the two of you, especially because he only was a few years older than you.  “You did not think I was an old man last night”. He pulled you close and rubbed his nose against yours. “You even praised my stamina, if I remember correctly.”

“I admit you are insatiable.” 

“Only with you, my Queen. Only with you.” He kissed your nose tenderly. “As I was saying, my men and I checked the surroundings as much as we could. Most of us are stuck inside because of the snow. There is nothing we can do for the moment but keep each other warm. What do you say, dear Queen of mine? Shouldn’t we take advantage of this opportunity to work on our most important project: making an heir for the throne?”

His hand under the furs traveled down your body and hooked one your legs on his hip. You could feel his leaking tip against your dripping center which clenched around nothing. Letting go of your leg, he grabbed his cock and rubbed it against your cunt. A needy whimper left your lips and you slid your hand between the two of you to grab his sex and put it inside of you in a swift motion. He groaned as you let out another whimper, this time filled with want and need. Your breaths mingled as you got even closer and put your forehead against his. Your eyes met briefly, full of lust and naughty promises.

“Anything for you, my King.”

Tagging (feel free to ask to be added or removed): @naaladareia @gearhead66 @flowers-in-your-hayr @medievalfangirl @girlonfireice

[witchthewriter]

𝐎𝐬𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐬/𝐨 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!  

Warnings: violence, nsfw section, mentions of blood and battles

a/n: okay so i did a bit of research and in this time, it's only monks who were not allowed to marry and i think remain celebate? nsfw included...it will all be explained

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

ISFP

Hufflepuff

Lawful Good turned Neutral Good

Pisces Sun, Libra Moon, Cancer Rising

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿

・When Osferth first met you, he was incredibly frightened of you...but did his best to hide it.

・Well, even Uhtred was wary of you at first. You had come off the battlefield, covered in blood, a sword in both hands, and a fucking grin on your face

・Out of three of the four men were practically having heart palpatations when you looked their way and your smile grew.

"Oh fuck-" Finan said, practically frozen.

"Shit shit shit, in coming, Uhtred-" Osferth was by his Lord's side, not ... hiding behind him, only merely standing beside him.

・It wasn't until Sihtric stood up, opening his arms wide that the men let out a joint sigh.

・Even though both of you were covered in blood and had considerate wounds (although none too serious), you hugged each other as hard as you could.

"Um, not to ... break up this beautiful picture," Finan started, "but who exactly is this Sihtric?"

"This is my cousin!"

・Osferth's attention never left you. His eyes constantly seeking you, he needed to know where you were at all times.

・His crush on you, which took a few weeks for him to realise, made him obsessed with you.

・Osferth yearned for you.

・But little did he know, you felt the exact same way.

・You travelled with Uhtred and his crew for months, and you fought in many battles (saving the lives of each men around twice; but whose counting?)

・Finan was the easiest to talk to - with Uhtred always galloping off to do Lord things, Sihtric usually spying for him, which left Finan, Osferth and yourself.

・The monk took a while to speak to you, and the first few times he stuttered.

・The black khol around your eyes, Viking markings and tattoos were enough to make any Saxon quiver.

・But he'd seen you in battle, and his heart fluttered every time.

・So Finan was the only person to talk to. And talk he did.

・You listened to the Irishman, but your eyes often wandered to the monk, whose gaze would quickly avert from your own

・Everytime he did this, you smiled. And of course, Finan caught on.

・So one night he decided to meddle.

"Argh! I've hurt me ankle - Osferth and y/n, can ye get the firewood for me. God this hurts!" He near shouted as the two of you walked off together.

・Was Finan an idiot at times? Yes. But a brilliant idiot. Because the asshole actually got Osferth to talk to you. And once you got talking, you both opened up. As if you had known each other all your lives.

・When Uhtred and Sihtric returned, they were stunned to see the two of you so close. Emotionally as well as physically.

・Sihtric especially, since he felt rather protective of you. Even if you could beat him in a fight.

・Osferth had never known love, not romantic love, and he knew he would never feel it to this extent again.

・He has your eye colour memorised, as well as your smile, the way you like to do your hair, your favourite colour etc.

・He's tentative and sweet, emotionally mature - although he can be a bit naive at times.

・Osferth never thought someone like you; someone as intimidating and strong and fierce as you, could ever look twice at him. Let alone love him.

・And he swore to himself that he would do everything he could to make you happy.

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

Sun (Osferth) x Moon (You)

Love language is physical touch (You) x Is touch starved (Osferth)

 Confident & Flirty (You) x Has Never Been Flirted With Before, Thinks They're Just Being Nice (Osferth)

𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

Opposites Attract

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

A New Beginning by Alexandre Desplat

𝑁𝑆𝐹𝑊 🔞 No one under the age of 18 past this point.

・We know that Osferth isn't a virgin, as he had two GROWN WOMEN physically fighting over him!

・He has the same dedication to his partner's pleasure as he has faith in God

・The first few weeks of your relationship, Osferth was always shocked that you kissed him.

・Often you asked him if he was okay, if he wanted to stop and then this fire would overtake him

・The kisses turned heated, passionate, almost overwhelming

・His large hands like to wander from your face, to your back, then down to your backside.

・There never goes a day when Osferth hasn't squeezed your ass, or at least pinched it

・You can get Osferth to agree to anything if you suck and nibble on his nipples. They're very sensitive, (and a lot of men do like this).

・There was a growing guilt whenever you two fucked, (no I am not using their word for it. I will not use 'hump' - I cringe every time.) He felt as if he was going against god somehow.

・But you had had enough of it after 4 months of being together.

"If this is causing you anguish, then we will stop."

"It's complicated love, I - what I want and what's expected of me is two different things."

"Then you will have to choose."

・Osferth told you a needed a week to make up his mind. Because if he chose you, then he would no longer be a monk.

・You agreed.

・And when those 7 days were over, he came into your tent, fell to his knees and begged for your forgiveness.

"I believe in God. And you believe in your gods. It is difficult, but I have made up my mind."

・When his eyes met your own, your breath was taken. Almost stolen from you.

"I am yours y/n. I cannot see God, nor touch him. But when I am with you... it feels like I am in the presence of the Divine."

・And that night he fucked you like he never had before.

・Orgasm after orgasm, he made love to you until the sun came up.

・He loves leaving love bites and teeth marks on your thighs and chest. There's something so primal about that action. As if he's marking his territory. Although he knows no one could be your master.

[oncewhenalongtimeago]

Happy holidays! I hope you have a good time with your family, friends, etc.

Thanks for writing about Hiccup, there are few tumblrs that write about him and I appreciate it <3

Castoff pt 4

Pairing: Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III x Fem!Reader

Words: 2,279

You have no pick nor savior so, in typical fashion, you use your words instead. It turns out that they can be just as sharp as any weapon.

Tags: Angst, fem!reader, heartbreak, villain reader, unresolved insecurity, anger, canon divergent, RTTE, Httyd 2, dark content, Angst, kidnapping, spiraling

<Previous

You caught someone in the eye, you were sure. At least somewhere under the brow. You hoped he went blind. 

Your eyelids fluttered as you struggled to stay awake, back in the hull, crusted blood marking a worn trail down your forehead.

You had your knife, still, which you clutched close to your middle at all times. You were sure they could wrench it from your hands if they really wanted.

Maybe it was the pity which kept them from taking it from you, or the fact that they remembered how difficult it was to get you here in the first place, lashing out like an animal, kicking and clawing as they threw you back into the cage. 

Maybe it was because they had scant time nor regard for anything else but their eager need to nurse their own wounds.

It meant very little, trapped back in the hull as you were.

You lived that moment over and over in your mind.

How you carried the burden of guilt on your shoulders, you wanted to beg and plead like you were kneeled before the altar of a broken God. You were ready to repent, and in that moment the smoke smelt like nothing more than forgiveness.

How at that time, you weren’t the one holding the knife. This time you were the beast at the sharp end of a masked figure’s staff. You were the one who begged and pleaded and writhed. How even before the mask figure could move, you knew the answer they would give, just as you knew the way flesh felt under knife.

Even the Vikings on Berk held honor, none willing to take a slave, none willing to turn an unwillful hand, none dishonorable enough to slay a man, none cowardly enough not to own up to it.

As a soft soul, you’d vowed albeit unconsciously to never draw a lick of blood.

You stared at the slowly shifting body of a small terror, chained and beaten and scarred so bad it could barely move, laid still and sad in its own waste.

It had driven you mad, constant whining and hacking filling the hours you should have spent sleeping with strife and restless shifting. Your neck ached from the hard floor even now, and you’d not a moment of respite to show for it.

You weren’t the dragon with the large yellow eyes. You weren’t the trapper, fallen to the knife.

You hated it; just as it was bound, so were you. You seemed to reflect each other, two sides of the same coin, neither the wielder, both the bearers of the sharp end of the knife, slaves to a much crueler fate.

It was a mockery.

And as a child, you’d kept a bird, wings torn and chest kicked in, picked up from the road and stowed away in a wooden box filled with hay. You had been too young to recognize that it had been long gone and so you took to it with the passion of a child bound to be disappointed.

You watched it all night, by the fire as its chest rose and fell gently, alone.

You fell asleep to an empty hearth and woke to a cold, still body.

When your friend, when a small Hiccup had come to you with his own bird, showed it to you, cradled and swaddled with all the fine cloth the son of a Chief could afford, when he had found success where you did not and whose hands healed when yours couldn’t.

You listened to his stories, you watched with a bitten tongue and a held breath as he cared for it, wrought with a sympathy and a grief you’d never voice. You hadn’t anything but sadness, then, and, in a way, a measure of happiness. You were happy for his success.

You had wondered for so many nights what you had done wrong.

You thought that made him greater.

You imagined it dead, run over by the wheel of a wagon, perhaps begging for scraps yet only facing the hard hearts and shoulders of Vikings who had better things to do than entertain the whims of a small bird, unfamiliar to the cold world, the only life it had known being wrapped warm as a fire and soft as fur.

Lost to the cruel grip of nature.

You glared at the man before you. 

You wanted to tell him to shovel his eyes out, to cut open his chest, to suffocate on his own spit and blood. You held your tongue.

Was there something cruel in that, too; leaving something so weak and frail to live when it begged for nothing but reprieve? To leave it alive, choking on its own spit and filth, driving you mad with anguish and irritation and then rage, until you had wanted nothing more than to have seen it tossed overboard?

Was that what everyone else knew when they looked at you with those eyes and blocked you off with sturdy shoulders, filled with unease and love and companionship, laid just outside your reach?

Eret grit his jaw.

You blinked away the heavy weights of sleep which held down your eyes as you slept, and though you had the urge, you did not rub your lids.

Instead, you laid still, turned away from the entrance. The light.

It smelt terribly.

As the hold once again filled with dragons, they kept to the far side of their cages, away from the small terror- the lizard, that was slowly but surely beginning to rot, torn apart by the desperate, fearful midnight scrabblings of a rat. Starving, just as you were, but freer than anything above or below deck.

By the sound of it, you knew exactly who. Eret wasn’t your only visitor. No, you got others. This one, he sounded like one of the kinder ones, the one who brought you your meals. Who kept you from starving. The others, they visited with nothing but sharp, metal-toed boots and fists burning with all the rage of a man trapped, ready and willing to rip and tear.

You were under no illusion that he had done it of his own free will, and yet he carried a sort of hope during the exchanges you shared, the passing of food between the bars and into your small jail, waiting as you turned your back, sighing with heavy emotion and moving with heavy steps.

You kept your breathing slow and shallow, rocking with the rest of the boat, rain and water pounding against wood as the ship was tossed around. It would soon get too violent for you to stay still, violent enough to make you sick.

He probably had a family back home. A wife and a child. Or a brother, maybe; a family, something to hold him in the delusion that what he was doing was right. That motivated him to try and rise above the others, that allowed him the belief he had the right to turn the other cheek as both dragons and Vikings alike were beaten and bruised and tortured by his hand. That he wasn’t nor would ever be as bad as the rest of them which, in your eyes, ultimately made him worse.

It made him selfish, more than anyone else on this vessel, who took and beat and robbed as they pleased.

He had a very unique helmet when most of the others on this ship did not; something that covered most of his face the same way Dagur’s helmet did, with horny curly enough to match any Jorgenson.

“It’s not like you have a due date, do you?” You coughed viciously, teeth violently catching on the tip of your tongue, causing you to wince.

“How we operate is no business of yours,” Eret grit his jaw, arms crossed, legs crossed. A line of sweat ran down the side of his face.

“You won’t be able to keep this expedition going forever,” You mumbled, voice raspier than ever before, “You need my help.”

“Tell me what you know.”

You laughed at him mockingly, though your stomach sank.

Would you succumb just as it had, or would you rise above it?

Maybe it was boredom, maybe it was desperation. Maybe you were tired of listening to the crew members above deck, maybe you had a death wish.

You gave in.

You started small.

“Rub it under the chin,” You looked up at him, a sharp, tense grimace on your face, “The spot where the jawbone turns to soft meat, scratch it with your fingernails.”

“You didn’t come up with that,” Eret glared.

“No, I didn’t,” You rasped. The rough uncured leather hide of your muzzle dug into your jaw, the flesh there searing and surely wet with puss after you’d made a very passionate effort to bite one of the crewmates in another escape attempt.

You didn’t need to say anything fancy; it didn’t take much convincing. It wouldn’t.

It made it very difficult to speak, keeping your jaw nearly stuck in place, “But I know it, and that makes me better than you. Just try it.”

You dared him with your eyes, both embodying the hypnotic gaze of a snake, and speaking the vying notes of a charmer.

You taunted, “You’re not still behind, are you?”

“We’ve gotten... Farther, with your help,” Eret conceded. 

Behind him, a green thunderdrum struggled, mouth bolted shut with a muzzle made of leather and metal not unlike your own, a set of chains binding its wings in the upwards position. 

There were three men on its back and two more on each size, wrestling it down as it struggled, trying and failing to scream.

They had no trouble, with all the room they needed to swarm the beast and pin it down, your small hull and a large pull-down metal door opened to reveal another, larger chamber.

“Is it enough?” 

“It has to be.”

“Are you willing to take that risk?” You learned to live with it; the stuffiness, the rattling, the pain, and as the nights grew colder and as the hold filled with the scraping and screaming of beasts, you slept sounder. 

Eret was silent.

“There's grass,” You started, picking at your fingernails, short and bloody, with your knife, “It grows plentifully deep in the islands on the southern end of the archipelago. It should be around here, wherever we are, too.”

“The dragons like it?” Eret asked stiffly.

Like picking bits and pieces off a corpse, like a scavenger picking over carrion, you took old phrases and sullied comforts and wove them together to make a convincing argument. You tempted and you beckoned.

Hiccup would say it was all about trust. You said the same, once upon a time. But you knew better now.

“Well enough to bow,” You smiled.

“Unshackle me.”

“What if I chained you up and dropped you in with the beasts?” Eret shot back, “Everything you have, I fought for. You’re still alive by my good graces and mine only.”

You were the smaller animal, but the frustration, the raw injustice drove you mad. Once again, you wanted to gouge his eyes out, you wanted to fight and struggle and scream, but you held off.

You hesitated, and looked away, a tenuous expression kept neural only through sheer force of will, the broiling in your gut and the foul words resting on your tongue making you want to do nothing but spit fire.

He would regret that.

“A Whispering Death,” You croaked, trying to suppress the vicious wrinkle of your nose, “Pull it’s top spine, press just under the point, really dig your fingers in.”

“Where are we now?” You asked.

“Someone is dead,” Eret ground out, fists shaking, “A man is dead because of you.”

He threw something on the floor, which clattered loudly in front of your dim cage.

You recognized it. A helmet.

“And?” You let out a short laugh.

“And? And?!”

“Let me out.”

“You don’t deserve that,” He spat.

“Don’t I?”  The irony was not lost on you. And so you laughed again, but much louder this time, with force enough to clutch at your stomach, to pull taut the your loosening muzzle.

You felt at your wrists, newly freed, and shook out your legs, donning a new pair of boots. Your clothing was still torn, ragged, stained, though you were certain you would be able to fix that soon.

You wore a helmet, weighty but fitting on your head, long and covering, secure, with large curly horns. It was patched and in parts covered in blood, thick and dried and congealing where there were dents. 

You knew now that what you once called kindness had just been a veil, a sweet lie to cover what everyone else already knew.

You were a cruel, evil person.

A liar, to hold things with delicate hands and whisper hopeful words when there was only one result, to follow teachings and old sayings that would never work for you again.

And the sweetest lie was the one you told yourself; the one that kept you from the truth and told you that you weren’t.

There was no forgiveness here. Not for you. 

Only condemnation.

You stretched your mouth open wide, worked your jaw where your muzzle had left a heavy mark, ignoring the desperate scrabbling and screeching of a dragon and the men behind you pulling, dragging it with fist and chain across splintered wood into a new cage.

You breathed in the fresh sea air, taking in the light of day for the first time in a long while.

And you reveled in it.