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syerra-637 · 5 months ago

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Hello! Am creator it’s nice to meet you!

Um I was wondering if you could do a thors x reader ( Vinland saga) fic please and I was hoping for a smut but if your not cool with that it’s ok as long as it’s thors I don’t care. Oh and plot um maybe the reader is his wife or something idk am not good with plots

Please and thank you 🙏 ☺️

A/N: I sincerely apologize for the time it took me to reply 🙌🏻😭. I didn’t write an explicit scene, but some parts (notably toward the end) are slightly suggestive. I truly hope you’ll see this and enjoy it, @creatorismynameboi07. Trigger Warning: female reader, mention of pregnancy (the reader is not pregnant!), mention of shaming women without children, mention of infertility, backward mentality regarding women’s roles and place in society Synopsis: It was cold outside. Your husband had gone out, and you were quietly waiting for his return. Word Count: 2.3k

It was cold outside. Winter was at its peak, and the freezing temperatures were seeping through the wooden walls of the house. You were sitting near the hearth, in a semi-reclined position on a pile of thick furs. The warmth of the crackling fire gently caressed your face, contrasting with the imagined bite of the cold outside. Your fingers absentmindedly brushed the edge of a blanket, and your slightly lost gaze was directed towards the window.

You were grateful that your husband, Thors, was here right now. His mere presence was enough to lighten the weight of winter and the worries that sometimes weighed on you. He wasn’t on a battlefield, and just the thought of that warmed you more than the flames in front of you. You let out a sigh, comforted by the idea that he was outside, just a few steps away, gathering wood to fuel the fire.

Of course, as a high-ranking warrior, he could have entrusted this task to a servant. Many would have done so without a second thought, but not him. Thors knew how much you disliked this practice, how it went against your principles. He respected your values, always, and that deep respect you shared was one of the many pillars of your relationship.

You closed your eyes for a moment, soothed by the crackling of the flames and the memory of his smile. You could almost picture him, crossing the snow confidently, his broad shoulders carrying the weight of the wood he was bringing back for you. Despite the cold, you knew he would return soon, his face reddened by the icy air, but still as calm and warm as ever.

You watched the flames crackling in the hearth, their orange tongues dancing with hypnotic grace. The longer you stared, the more they made you think of dancers, twirling in a frantic, almost enchanting choreography. The creaking of the burning wood echoed softly in the room, and you allowed yourself to be carried away by this peaceful atmosphere. Your body, rocked by the warmth and the regular rhythm of the fire, began to feel heavy. Slowly, you could feel sleep creeping in, gently slipping into the arms of Morpheus.

But this tranquility was abruptly shattered by a loud noise. The door slammed open, letting in a gust of icy air. You immediately sat up, your eyes slightly widened, before relaxing as you recognized the imposing figure of your husband.

Thors entered, his heavy footsteps echoing on the wooden floor. If you didn’t know better, such an appearance could have frightened you. He wasn’t particularly tall like Thorkell, but his build, broad shoulders, and determined gaze were enough to inspire a certain fear. However, to you, this impressive figure symbolized safety and tenderness.

You sat up on the bed, a smile forming on your lips as you watched him drop the logs he had brought. Without a word, he began to tend to the fire, the flames almost immediately rekindling under his attention.

“You took your time,” you hummed softly, your tone light.

He nodded, a slight smile on his lips.

“I had to go all the way to the Eastern Forest,” he replied. “Sorry for taking so long.”

You smiled back, shaking your head slightly.

“It was just an observation, not a reproach.”

His gaze softened, and he returned your smile, that warm expression that melted even the harshest cold.

“And besides, you weren’t gone long,” you replied with a light smile. “I didn’t even have time to get cold.”

Thors looked up at you, a playful gleam in his eyes.

“But you had time to get bored enough to doze off,” he said gently, a corner of his lips curling into an almost imperceptible smile.

He paused, his eyes drifting to the flames. The dancing shadows of the fire played across his face, highlighting his rugged features and thoughtful expression.

“You know, I think a bit of company wouldn’t hurt you,” he finally said, his voice deep but tinged with softness. “When I’m not here, you’re alone, and I worry that such solitude, over long periods, might start to weigh on you… or even drive you mad.”

These words made you frown. It wasn’t the first time he had mentioned this idea. The other times, he had merely dropped hints, phrases slipped into the course of conversation. But this time, he was clear, almost insistent. You remained silent for a moment, staring at him, trying to decipher the emotions behind his words.

He spoke again after a brief pause, his voice calm but slightly hesitant:

“I know perfectly well that the idea of buying slaves doesn’t sit well with you,” he said, briefly glancing at you. “We can make do with servants. And honestly, I don’t like seeing you overloaded with chores, as sometimes happens.”

“No,” you replied firmly, almost immediately.

Thors turned slightly towards you, surprised by the determination in your voice.

“I don’t like servants, even less than slaves,” you added, your gaze fixed on him. “Servants are curious. They listen at doors and spend their time gossiping about everyone’s little secrets among themselves.”

He remained silent, his features relaxed but his gaze attentive, allowing you to continue.

“Besides, I don’t mind doing the chores,” you continued. “If I really don’t want to do something, I can always pay someone to do it. Then they’ll leave, and I’ll be at peace.”

A slight smile crossed your lips at the end of your sentence, but Thors remained thoughtful. After a moment, he finally moved from his crouching position in front of the fire. Slowly, he stood up, his imposing figure silhouetted against the flickering light of the flames. He crossed the room in a few steps and sat down next to you on the bed.

His presence was comforting, as always. You felt the warmth of his body, still tinged with the cold from outside, and you could tell he was still thinking about your words.

Thors closed his eyes and let out a long sigh, a heavy breath of resignation, as if silently saying: Fine. Then he opened his eyes to look at you again, his expression calm but tinged with slight concern.

“In that case, why don’t you go out more with the other women?”

You furrowed your brow slightly before responding, your tone sharper than usual.

“I suppose you’re talking about Astrid and Solveig’s group?”

He nodded gently, his gaze fixed on you.

“You know I don’t like them,” you continued. “They’re as venomous as vipers and as hypocritical as crows who whisper in the ears of the powerful, only to mock them behind their backs.”

Thors remained silent, listening attentively to your words.

“I’ve had plenty of opportunities to observe them when I worked at Sigvaldi’s,” you added, crossing your arms. “And I know I want nothing to do with them.”

He nodded slowly, accepting your arguments. It was true, you had worked at Sigvaldi’s before your marriage. That was actually how your paths had crossed for the first time. As he thought back to that time, a thought crossed his mind.

Voici la traduction de ton texte en anglais :

— And Helga, Sigvaldi’s daughter? he suddenly asked, breaking the silence that had settled between you. She’s different, isn’t she? She’s kind. You even told me she was pleasant to be around.

He looked at you with curiosity, as if searching for a glimmer of hope in your response, a possibility that you might have a companion who would suit you.

— Helga? you repeated softly, as if her name evoked a distant echo.

A slight smile appeared on your lips, tinged with nostalgia.

— Helga is kind. She’s pleasant and respectful to everyone. She’s truly a lovely woman, you murmured, almost to yourself.

You surprised yourself thinking back to the moments you had shared. You had truly enjoyed her company. Helga was one of the few people you considered a real friend. In fact, it was one of the things you regretted about your marriage: not seeing her as often as before.

However, you knew Helga had one big flaw, and it was the same as yours. She didn’t like socializing. She preferred peace, and her mere presence was enough for her. Like you, she didn’t seek unnecessary company. And since she got married last spring, she had been seen even less.

You lowered your head, reflecting. Your marriage to Thors was already more than a year and a half ago. You had gotten married two summers ago. The following autumn, you had talked to Helga at a banquet. That was the last time you truly exchanged words. You hadn’t even congratulated her on her marriage. In truth, you had never thought it was worth congratulating. You didn’t have a high opinion of the man she had married, and that thought had prevented you from reaching out to her.

Lost in your thoughts, you hadn’t noticed that Thors had been watching you carefully for a while.

— Helga is lovely, you finally said, looking up at him. But it’s been too long since I’ve spoken to her. It would be strange to reconnect now. She’s probably living her life just fine without me.

Thors hesitated for a moment before responding, choosing his words carefully.

— Actually, I’ve heard her morale hasn’t been the best, he confessed.

You furrowed your brows slightly, intrigued.

— Why?

— She still hasn’t gotten pregnant, he explained gently, his eyes lingering for a moment on the flames.

These words struck you. Had Helga been having difficulties in her marriage? You didn’t know what to think, but a pang of guilt crept in at the thought of having left her without news for so long.

— Do you think her husband reproaches her for it? you asked, your gaze lost in the flickering glow of the fire.

Thors nodded slowly, a soft sigh escaping his lips.

— Not just him, but everyone else around her, he added in a grave voice. It’s one of the main purposes of marriage: to produce heirs.

These words resonated within you, like a distant and strange echo. You had always heard that marriage was supposed to result in children, in descendants. But upon reflection, you had never truly accepted that view of things.

— Do you think it’s true? That marriage is meant to produce heirs? you asked, your tone uncertain.

Thors took a moment to respond, his eyes drifting to the flames as if searching for a deeper truth in their dance.

— The primary function of marriage is to unite two beings for eternity, he answered calmly but with conviction. The production of heirs follows naturally.

You looked at him, but your mind was elsewhere, turned toward this reflection. You knew you had often talked about the importance of unity, the love you shared. You had already acted on that many times. However, it had been initiated in the search for pleasure, a desire to become one with each other. But at the moment those words were spoken, a question formed in your mind, one that seemed even more relevant at that moment.

You turned your gaze to the window, your mind troubled, your eyes searching for an answer where there was none.

— If I couldn’t have children, would you consider our marriage a failure? you said, your voice almost a whisper, your gaze still fixed on the outside landscape.

He stayed silent for a moment, probably surprised by your question. When he responded, his voice was soft but firm, as if he wanted to reassure you while staying grounded in reality.

— What an odd question, he said with a slight smile. Of course not. I married you because I love you.

He moved closer to you gently, as if to emphasize his words, and placed a comforting hand on yours.

— It’s true that the idea of having little children running around doesn’t displease me, he continued with a tender smile. But if it never happens, then it won’t change anything in my life or your worth.

His words warmed your heart, but a strange melancholy lingered in your mind. You wanted to believe what he was saying, to let his words erase the doubts forming inside you. But society, the expectations of everyone around you, weighed heavily on your shoulders.

You finally turned your gaze to him, a timid but sincere smile forming on your lips.

— Thank you, you whispered.

He slowly leaned toward your ear, his warm breath brushing your skin. His whispers were gentle, soothing, like a familiar melody that warms the soul. His words were like a caress, a silent promise, and before you could respond, he placed a delicate kiss on your lips. And another, and another, and gradually, this tenderness turned into something more forceful, more sensual. The softness gave way to light nibbling.

A few hours later, you were both lying side by side on the bed, the warmth of your naked bodies mingling beneath the covers. The crackling of the fire had become a soft background melody, adding to the tranquility of the room. Thors, with a tender gesture, tucked a lock of hair that had fallen across your face. He smiled as he saw your gaze, his eyes sparkling with kindness.

You turned completely toward him, seeking to get even closer, before taking him in your arms, as if to reassure yourself in his presence. His arms closed around you, and a comforting silence settled between you, a silence that carried deep meaning.

— I’ll go see Helga tomorrow, you murmured, your voice tinged with a certain determination. But could you come with me?

He turned his head toward you, a sincere smile forming on his lips. He nodded gently.

— Of course, he replied softly, his voice full of trust.

You closed your eyes, a sigh of relief escaping your lips.

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