#assassin’s creed x m!reader

[author-morgan]

Title: Persuasion Pairing: m!Eivor x fem!Reader x Alexios Rating: M Summary: It takes both Eivor and Alexios to convince you to join them on their summer raid to England. Blame @mrsragnarlodbrok for this filth. ❤️

THE WATER IS warm and relaxing after a long day’s hunt, but the reprieve is interrupted by a messenger from the south named Ragn. He brings word from Eivor Wolfsmal —a summons to meet and discuss plans for the summer raiding season. The arrival of the raids means good plunder for those who partake, but for your people, it means the time to start planting rocky fields and making stores for the next winter is nigh approaching too.

There is a reason your people have not gone a viking in so long —the winters are growing longer and colder, and you cannot risk losing the menfolk, else everyone starve. But Ragn tells you Eivor has set his sights to the west, to the foretold riches of East Anglia and beyond. You thank him for the message and sink further into the cooling water before calling for one of the members of your vanguard, asking her to call upon your bannermen to prepare for departure. At dawn, you will travel south and meet Eivor of the Raven Clan’s call —for old time’s sake, if nothing else.

It is not an overly long journey south, nor is it a short one traveling across rocky crags and rushing streams. It takes nigh two moons before you can see the walls of Eivor’s settlement rising on the horizon —guarding the dark and frigid waters of the fjord beyond. Horns sound to announce the arrival, and Eivor rides out to meet you and your traveling party. People have trickled in for the last fortnight, and you are among the last to arrive —the one he’s wanted to see the most.

He dismounts his white mare as you slide from the back of your mount too and approaches you with welcome arms and warmth in his smile. The years have not changed him. He is still handsome and kindly as ever. He embraces you, a quick greeting between old friends. “Welcome,” Eivor says, then he spares a moment to look you over from head to toe. He feels as though time has not been as gentle to him as it has to you. “You look well,” he remarks.

You reach out, resting a hand on his scarred cheek, and smile up at him. “As do you.” Eivor covers your hand with his own, fingers curling around yours. He pulls your hand from his cheek and places a quick kiss on your knuckle. You ride at Eivor’s side, your traveling party trailing along, single file with the wagons at the head through the streets, stopping at the heart of the settlement before the great hall. Dismounting, you look around at the wood and stone buildings, noting how much the once small harbor has grown in recent years.

“Come with me,” Eivor says, motioning for you to follow him through the muddy streets to the harbor. You wave to your bannermen, and they disperse among the barracks and market —offloading crates and barrels of goods from wagons and carts for trade. Horns sound again, marking the arrival of three longships bearing white sails with a dark eagle clutching a serpent in its talons. The last of those who Eivor summoned for the meeting.

A man wearing pale brown leathers, a mantle of grey fur, and blue wool disembarks from the arriving longship, drawing back his hood. Most of the gathered Jarls you are familiar with, but this is a new and strange face. One who does not belong so far north. His dark hair is matted into locks shorn at his shoulders and adorned with golden beads —his skin is sun-kissed, and his eyes dark. Eivor approaches the man on the wharf, and they both size each other up in a moment of tense silence. The façade quickly breaks with Eivor’s laugh. “Alexios!” He greets.

Alexios clasps Eivor on the shoulder, smiling. “It has been too long, my friend,” he remarks —dark gaze straying to where you wait beneath an arch of wood and stone. But curiosities can be slaked later; for now, it is time to prepare for the feast.

NINE OF THE eleven Jarls who have answered the call retire for the evening. Their absence leaves you sitting between Eivor and Alexios at the table strewn with overturned cups and empty plates —still unconvinced it’s in your people’s best interests to join the summer raids of an all but unknown land. Too much is at stake for you to carelessly venture west.

“You’ve yet to persuade me, Wolf-kissed,” you note, setting aside your cup. The promise of riches alone is not enough to send men to an early grave. “I have my people I must care for and women and children who will lose their husbands and fathers.” Where others could make do with the absence of menfolk during the warm months, your clan could not —only a handful of men joined the raids each year. Every person contributed to the survival of the whole so far north. “Our winters are longer than yours here in the south,” you remind him.

Alexios regards you carefully, a smile tugging at his lips. He’s not said much this evening, but his dark eyes have been busy —watching. He sees a strong will, a sharp wit, and a gentle heart. The makings of a leader loved by the masses. That’s without considering the respect you commanded from the others who have seen more summers than you. He has to admire that after encountering so many weak-willed leaders in his years.

“Perhaps another drink will help ease your worries,” Eivor says, pouring a fresh cup of mead and sliding it across the table for you to take. Even drunk, you do not think you’d willingly throw away so many lives for the spoils of the summer raids. He’s adamant, though. “I know there are riches and fertile land to the west,” Eivor tells you. “You need not endure the harsh winters if your people can call Anglia home.”

“It’s true,” Alexios supplements, “I’ve been there before.” He has wandered around the world for centuries and knows Eivor and others speak the truth about the land once named Britannia. “Thick forests and rolling green hills as far as the eye can see.” It sounds too good to be true —like a dream. “You see,” Alexios continues, “the true riches lie not in gold or silver, but the fertile earth. There’s more than enough land for your people to make a new home,” he tells you.

“Still,” you say, looking between the two men flanking your sides, “I shall have to think on it.” It is no small thing to ask that you uproot your people on a whim for an uncertain future in a strange land, but perhaps you could join them to see this land and its riches for yourself. Though, it is still something that must be considered without the strong mead fogging your senses.

Alexios leans forward, crossing his arms on the table. He looks past you to Eivor —who seems to be in the same mindset as him. He’s certainly not immune to the charms of a woman such as you, and neither is Eivor, considering the looks he’s shared with you over the course of the evening. “Perhaps we can convince you to join us,” he says, voice gruffer than just moments before.

Eyes flitting between both men, you catch onto the game they’re playing. You’re not one to shy away from such games, and it’s an easy choice to decide to play along with whatever they might be scheming. “And how will you do that?” You challenge, lifting a brow.

“Do you know how to wield a spear?” Alexios asks —you catch the double meaning of his question easily enough. Had any other Jarl asked such a thing, you’d have emptied your cup over their head, but there’s a certain allure and charm to Alexios with his sharp features and tawny-gold eyes.

“I do,” you answer, letting another sip of mead wash away what little inhibitions are left for the evening. “I can skewer a boar and bring a man to his knees,” you note. Eivor knows you can do both with ease —he’s seen you hunt before, knows what it’s like to have you writhing as he fucks you.

“How about you, Alexios? Can you wield a spear?” You query, lifting your cup to hide a bold and enticing smile. He moves as soon as you set your cup on the table, drawing you into his lap, hands instantly finding the ties of your soft gambeson and the pale tunic below —as though he’s been waiting for this moment since first setting eyes on you hours prior. The gambeson slips to the floor, and you rid yourself of the thin tunic without care. His lips are warm and soft against yours when he kisses you, palms pressing flat against your breasts.

He leans down, mouth latching onto your neck with a gentle bite that makes you gasp. Alexios moves down your chest until his lips wrap around one taut nipple, his tongue swirling around the bud and drawing a moan from your traitorous lips. You feel him smile against you —the press of his teeth against your chest in a broad grin. You catch Eivor’s gaze, and the color on his cheeks as your hands trail down Alexios’s chest —you can feel the firm muscles in his abdomen beneath your hands and his half-hard cock pressing into your thigh. He offers no resistance when you start unlacing the ties of his pants.

His cock is thick, heavy, and hot in your hand as you wrap your fingers around him —feeling each rigid vein. You can’t help but imagine the feel of them dragging along your walls as he fucks you. Your cunt tightens at the thought —a shiver crawls down your spine, and warmth pools in your belly. What you’d give to mount him like a stallion —you can already feel the aching burn of him stretching you open. But for now, you’ll settle for this. Alexios’s head tips back. The muscles in his neck tense. You lean into him, lips dragging along his jawline, and when he groans, it reverberates through you both. His breath stutters as you start slow. A teasing, languid pace —letting your entire hand explore him.

Eivor shifts in his chair —you can feel the heat of his stare without sparing him a glance. “You’re awfully quiet, Eivor,” you muse, still peppering kisses along Alexios’s neck and letting his calloused hands explore what skin they can. “Still not over that night?” You tease, breath catching when Alexios nips at your collarbone —the scruff of his beard leaving a burning trail that his tongue soothes. “Must’ve been, what? Four years ago, now?” Eivor does not answer. He won’t give you the satisfaction of knowing how many times the thought of you has kept him warm at night.

Your gaze drops to Alexios’s cock as you give him another long stroke from base to tip. Flushed, thick, and throbbing against your skin. You stop holding back —hand moving faster and wrist twisting on each upstroke— and Alexios cannot restrain himself any longer. He feels a fool for coming undone so quickly, but there’s magic in your touch, especially after a long voyage at sea.

“Is this any way to treat your host?” Eivor japes, and you can hear the bitter jealously in his voice as he watches. “Casting him aside to watch?”

“Come now, Eivor,” you chide. “You’ll have your fun later.” The way you say it, taunting and teasing with your hand wrapped around another man’s cock makes this all seem like a competition. If it is, at least it is a game where you will all be victorious. 

“Is this not part of the sacred guest-rights?” Alexios asks, his voice half-strangled from how your hand works his cock but amused too. His body arches into you, pulling you against him, and his lips part as he moans unabashedly. It isn’t loud, but it is guttural and desperate, and it makes your core ache with want. Your hand doesn’t stop working him even as he spills himself over your fingers, drawing out his orgasm for as long as you can until you slow to a stop, and he begins to relax —catching his breath.

But he’s quick to begin taking what he wants. Alexios kisses your neck, moving down your body —the rough pads of fingers trailing along your sides, but it’s not enough. He needs more, wants more, and it’s impulse and desire when he sweeps his arms out, knocking the plates and cups in front of him to the floor. Alexios lifts you from his lap onto the edge of the table —hurriedly pulling at the ties of your britches as you toe off your boots. 

Eivor inhales sharply, seeing you bare and splayed out on the table. His tongue darts out to dampen his lips. Memory reminds him of how sweet you tasted and how prettily you’d moaned for him, and he can barely stand the thought of not being the one between your thighs.

Alexios slinks down to look upon his second meal —eager to devour. You feel the stubble of his jaw tickle the crest of one hip and then the other before feeling his breath against your aching center. He kisses the inside of each thigh, then suckles and bites a mark in the same place on each side, laving over the little marks with his tongue. Alexios does not know what will come of this night, though he will leave a lasting impression on you to remember him by for the coming days —and maybe have you coming back to warm his bed on these cold northern nights.

He nuzzles his face against your cunt, inhaling the heady scent —drunk off the smell— and Alexios wrenches an incredulous noise from your throat when his tongue darts out, licking a flat stripe over you, stopping to circle your clit. He repeats the action thrice over, each time adding more pressure —devouring your cunt with attention like a man supping on his last meal, and he will be sure to have his fill. Reaching down, you twine your hands into his dark hair, and he peers up, dark eyes almost black with desire but still shining gold in the firelight. It’s easy to forget you and Alexios are not alone.

His tongue and mouth are insistent but soft, warm, and wet —a practiced lover— and he groans in delight against you when he feels your hips rise from the table and start to roll against his tongue. Alexios thinks himself a simple devotee worshipping at the altar of a goddess.

Every time you make a new noise, it just makes him more voracious —makes his cock stir again, but right now is about you and he’s determined not to stop until you’re shaking. He loops his arms under your thighs and moves his fingers to spread you open farther —letting his thumbs rub up and down your folds, gathering the slick. Then he eases one finger into your cunt, curling, and stroking, then adds a second. It’s devastating —the gentle pressure with each flick of his tongue on your clit— your breath comes in short gasps, chest heaving until it all erupts in slow sparks and smoldering flames.

It's the plummet of a longship’s prowl after cresting a wave when gravity takes its full force. The slow build of heat low in your belly takes to flames fanned by bellows. Alexios curls his fingers just right and feels your body tighten and seize. Your back arches off the tabletop and your ragged cry of ecstasy fill the room as you quiver.

Alexios raises his head, lips and chin glistening in the low light of the empty mead hall. He eases you down, hands stroking the insides of your thighs, and his lips find the skin below your navel before he draws you off the table and back into his lap. You tremble still when he drags the scruff of his jaw over your breasts and clavicles —promptly burying his face into your neck and listening as your heartbeat slows.

Fingers threading into Alexios’s matted locks, you glance at Eivor —his eyes are dark and filled with lust. His breathing is quicker and more labored than it had been during the feast too. Eivor splays his legs open, and you can see the outline of his hard cock through the wool of his britches. You smile for him —knowing it drives him to insanity and jealousy to see you like this because of another man. Alexios’s rough hands slide over your sides and around to your backside, pulling you down and forward against him —so you can feel his cock twitch back to life. A promise the night is not over yet.

But Eivor’s patience has run dry, and he will resign to being a bystander no longer. Rising from his seat, Eivor steps to you and Alexios, tugging your hair and forcing you to look up at him. He cranes down close to your ear and smirks. “My turn,” he rasps, pulling you off Alexios’s lap before scooping you up and over his shoulder and parading through the Great Hall toward his chambers. “Come, my friend,” Eivor calls back to Alexios, “guest-rights would have you take her cunt first.”

Anticipation burns low in your belly as Eivor pushes open the door to his room. Alexios trails a few steps behind —cock half-hanging out of the untied laces of his britches— his hands already fumbling with the ties of his tunic. Then Eivor lets you down from his shoulder and seizes your face in his hands, lips finding yours with burning lust and consuming passion.

You break away, breathless, and start to slide your hands beneath the hem of his tunic, pushing up the coarse crimson wool until he finally rids himself of it. Then your lips trail effortlessly along his heated flesh as you kiss your way from his scarred neck down his chest, then to his stomach, ghosting over the familiar blue-black ink of the runic tattoos accenting his middle. They’re a shade or two lighter than when you last saw him like this.

“Didn’t I tell you you’d have your fun later?” You muse, stopping just below his navel where a trail of hair a shade darker than that on his head begins. His response is a breathy groan as you continue down the path you’d started, falling to your knees in front of him, alas. His hands tangle in your hair as he moans quietly for you, feeling the blood rush as your breath trails dangerously close to the swell of his still-clothed cock.

His jaw clenches in frustration when you slow down, working the ties of his britches. You push the soft leather down his thighs, letting his cock fall free —hard, heavy, and weeping with want. Eivor steps out of his britches, and you press a to kiss his inner thigh, feeling the muscle twitch in anticipation. You kiss his inner thigh and feel the muscle twitch in anticipation. His fingers brush over your jaw, and your lips part to run your tongue across the length of his cock.

You look up at him before circling the head of his cock with your tongue, and he growls, running a hand through your hair affectionately. Your thighs squeeze together, knowing how much he wants your attention makes you feel flushed and warm in the best way. You give him a small smile before you open wider to take the head between your lips and are rewarded with his pleased sigh.

He hisses as he watches his cock disappear into your mouth —can feel the wet of your tongue lapping at him when you hollow your cheeks in. Your eyes are fixed on him, firing with lust as you watch him slowly fall into a haze. His brows furrow, his eyes slip shut, and his mouth parts from the sudden peak of pleasure. He doesn’t expect you to stop so suddenly, though. The aching emptiness between your thighs is enough to drive you mad. You look back at Alexios —he’s bare as you are now, his clothes tossed in a heap at the door, and he’s stroking his cock as he watches.

Rising from your knees, you press your hand to the center of Eivor’s chest, pushing him back toward the bed. He goes without complaint, falling backward into the furs, and you join him, perching on hands and knees —placing a long lick up the underside of his cock before a small sucking kiss on the head and presenting yourself to Alexios for the taking.

Alexios steps up behind you, his hands running over your hips and backside. His fingers dip into your soaked cunt before curling around his cock, stroking himself before pressing into you —slowly, so you can feel each ridge and vein dragging along your walls, filling you. It draws a low moan from you as he bottoms out, then starts thrusting shallowly as you lick a stripe up Eivor’s cock again. You give no warning as you open wide, mouth closing around the head of his cock and slipping halfway down his length. His fingers instinctively yank at your hair, moan cracking in his throat like he’s choking on the sound.

From behind, relentlessly to his snapping hips, Alexios fucks into you. Hard, rigid, merciless through a string of guttural groans and stumbling profanities spoken in a tongue you do not understand. Needy and pitifully pathetic, your aching cunt burns with each thrust, rough pads of his callous fingers digging into the skin of your bare hips. You lay there for him, hands twisted into the fur pelts next to Eivor’s thighs, body jolting and humming with pleasure. You can’t see him, yet you know how he must be —satisfied— and how he must look —chest flushed as incoherent grunts of pleasure bolt his lips.

His thickness splits you inch by inch while he slams in relentlessly, ceaselessly, persistently. Each vein, each ridge, each curve of his cock skidding along the walls of your cunt, driving your body further into oblivion. Alexios’s teeth scrape over your shoulder when he lowers his mouth to your back. One of his hands stays on your waist, anchoring you against him, the other palms your breast, fingers tweaking one nipple then the other. You’re vaguely aware that Alexios and Eivor are saying something to each other, but you’re too distracted by your work to pay attention. You shiver a bit when you feel warm hands come down to grope your breasts, and you let your throat squeeze around him, mind shrouded in a fog of sex.

Alexios looks down at the display of his cock moving in and out of your wet cunt. It’d be a shame not to enjoy what you’re offering in the moment. He leans over you, chest pressed against your back, and kisses your neck —the feel of his hot lips sends a shiver down your spine and makes you clench around his cock. “Fuck,” he hisses, grabbing a handful of your ass to spur you along. You feel the familiar tension blooming in your stomach as he thrusts inside you again and again. The needy little sounds you’re making for him are muffled around Eivor’s cock. Alexios’s bottoming out with every rock of his hips against yours, and this won’t last much longer for either of you —his cock is already throbbing with the prospect of release.

Eivor’s fingers thread into your hair, keeping you against his groin and looking at you like you’re some kind of benevolent goddess. It only makes that heat inside you flare up more. This all feels so good, but you can only offer muffled whines as both of them enjoy your body. You whimper, and the low reverberation and hum of your mouth around his cock is enough to finish Eivor —and you swallow the bitter salt of his seed.

Rough fingertips find your clit, rubbing and stroking until your cunt clamps down tight around his cock, and you lose all sense of focus as the wave of pleasure washes over you —breath reduced to tiny gasps and your thighs shaking. You slump forward, head pillowed on Eivor’s stomach, content to let Alexios work himself to his own finish with your body, and it doesn’t take much time. He comes inside you after a few more sloppy thrusts, cock spasming deep in your cunt, pressed so close against your back you can feel his heart beating fast behind you. The two of you stay together for a minute to get your bearings before he pulls out and steps away.

Eivor’s waited long enough to have your cunt, and he’ll not give you long to recover from how Alexios fucked you. He crawls between your thighs. His eyes hold a certain darkness you’ve never seen before —rooted in jealousy— and his mouth is slightly a gape with his chest rising and falling in heavy heaves. He takes hold of his cock, stroking himself as his spare hand plants to your hip, spreading your legs open wide for his taking. Eivor’s lips quirk into a faint smirk as he guides his cock into you as if to say you’re mine now. 

Low and throaty, he hisses to the sensation, eyes momentarily clenching shut to the feel of you as he sinks to the hilt. His thrusts start slow but quicken —he’s thought about having you like this again on many a cold night— cock throbbing and twitching inside you, slipping from your cunt messily each time before plummeting back in. He grunts and curses above you as you plead with sobs of frustration and nigh overstimulation. You’ve never been so well-fucked before.

Your nails dig into his biceps, each thrust presses your breasts tighter to his chest. Eivor dips his head down, teeth scraping over your neck —just above a thrumming pulse. Your body involuntarily reacts, arching into him, legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer every time he rolls his hips into yours. His fingertips press hard into your thighs, holding you tight against him, and your back arches with jolting shocks. Eivor’s eyes blacken when his eyes glaze over your body —wanton and bare, completely exposed for him, with your breasts bouncing as he rams in, cock burying deep, deep inside you with each thrust.

He grunts, jaw tightened, his pace never faltering. Your cunt pulses and throbs —Alexios’s seed leaking onto the furs below. Eivor breathes your name, face lowering to yours —mead-tinged breath hot against your lips as he quietly growls, teeth barely grazing your jaw. Persistently, he nips at the soft skin of your neck, leaving marks to match those left by Alexios, as if marking his claim too. “Fuck,” he grits, his eyes frenzied and primal, wild as he asserts his dominance —taking what should have been his all along. It’s the way his throbbing cock works your cunt, the way he perfectly fucks you into pure and utter bliss.

Throaty and gruff, he lets out rough moans, breathy and raggedy, and hot as he shudders, sending shivers of wanting down your spine when you know he’s close. Your head tilts back, and you can see Alexios reclined behind you —watching contentedly. With a few particularly harsh thrusts, you yelp in pleasure, ascending another peak, searing your nerves as he continues to fuck into you, chasing his own end. Eivor’s cock hits your end with a halt, a satisfied grumble of his chest rumbling against your breasts as he finds release, filling you with tingling warmth. Then his head falls forward, forehead pillowed on your breasts, and he lets out a breathy exhale, chest hot and puffing from the exertion. Drawing in a long sigh, Eivor slides his cock from you, rolling off to the side.

Shifting, you rest your head on Alexios’s stomach and drape your legs across Eivor’s. He smooths his hand over your calf and turns his head, watching the seed drip from your ruined cunt. Sleep weighs heavily on your chest after the length of days of travel, and now this. It calls sweetly. “Have we persuaded you to go to England with us?” Alexios asks, half-laughing as he runs his fingertips over your stomach and stops to fondle one of your breasts.

“Will the two of you be having me like this every day if I do?” You ask in turn, voice airy —dreamy— eyes slipping shut. Both men exchange a look, and neither will object to such a proposition. You can feel the low rumble of laughter in Alexios and Eivor’s chests. You certainly wouldn’t object to the proposal. Eivor kisses the bend of your knee, and Alexios takes your hand, lips pressing to the center of your palm —each kiss like a promise of what’s to come.

[taglist: @alessyaraven @alexandra-alle @ananriel @callmemythicalminx @certifiedlittleshit @chaotic-spooky @darkravenqueen98 @edelaen @elluvians @erzsebetrosztoczy @finick94 @hc-geralt-23 @idkjj04 @itseivwhore @kitkitvm @ksziggy @letsloveimagines @maximalblaze @missmannequin @mrsragnarlodbrok @novastale @overratedsun @qhbr2013 @queenyalo @rhienn-lavellan-rutherford @thedragonqueenfan @theelvenvalkyrie @thepreciouspurrsian @vanillabeanlattes @wallsarecrumbling @withered-poppies @xxdearlybeloved ] if your name is italicized, tumblr would not let me tag you. if you’d like to be added to my Eivor, Alexios, or any other taglist, just let me know with this Google Form!

[thepaperpanda]

𝓓𝓪𝔂 20 - “I belong to Eivor Wolf-Kissed” || male!Eivor x fem!reader

Masterlist

Summary: The pleasure of using you is something Eivor can't wait to experience.

Warnings: smut without plot (unprotected)

Word count: ~ 1180

Author: Fenrir

A/N: The prompt for today is: Dirty Talk

During the ride home after the huge feast Sigurd threw, you giggled and rubbed slowly on Eivor's thigh from behind as you nuzzled his back, sitting behind him on his horse.

As Eivor helped you off the horse and embraced you with his strong arm, leading you to his room in the great hall, he leaned over for a kiss, hungry for you like you were for him. The building was empty at this time of night since everyone was still celebrating and having fun by the mead with Sigurd, giving Eivor time to push you against a wall and raise your skirt.

While checking to ensure no one was around, Eivor unzipped his pants enough to pop his hard cock on out and slide your panties to the side. He jerked himself a few times, looking hard into your eyes. “You like it, Y/N? You want to feel my cock in your little pussy, don’t you?”

The lips of your pussy slipped over his tip in response, making both of you shiver. “Yes, Eivor,” you whispered, licking your lips. “I want you to possess me in every way possible.”

Eivor grunted as the tip of his shaft pushed past your warm lips, directly into your wet pussy. Sighing as he sank deep enough, he started setting a pace as his hands rested on your waist. One hand was shaking as he read your body, while the other pressed over his. He didn't try to stop the slapping; Eivor felt himself thrust faster, the noise getting a little louder in the hall, but he couldn't stop it. You bounced as if you wanted to ride him like a horse and yearned to be buried in his mattress.

With enough reserve, Eivor slipped out of you, putting his cock back into his pants and pulling your skirt down, so he could lead the way into his chamber. “I want to fuck you in my bed. You’re such a little horny cunt, aren’t you?”

“I’m all your, Eivor,” you jumped on him inside, taking off your coat, easily wrapping your legs around his waist and arms around his neck and shoulders. Biting your lip, you bounced once again on his hidden cock, throbbing in wait to finally possess you; your feet touched the ground as your hand laced with his, leading him to bed. Grabbing your skirt waist, Eivor made sure you were close again, unclasping it until it spilled onto the ground. In panties still to the side, he saw how you dripped down your thighs and he reached to taste; sucking his fingers clean, he smirked at the blush covering your cheeks.

Eivor undid his pants and stroked himself. He watched as you shifted your panties off, exposing those legs nice and wide, your juices still dripping; Eivor watched as you licked your fingertips and slowly started circling your clit. Both of your breaths labored bit by bit, anxious to see who would be first to savour the other's sugared gloss.

A mischievous grin adorned Eivor's lips as he teased, "You seem ready for dessert, my little slut, craving my cock in your tight cunt."

At first, you nodded without saying anything, until you heard a breathy moan from him as he jerked himself for you. "I'm more than ready, Eivor, I need your hard dick inside of me," you barely whispered, taking a seat at the edge of the bed, spreading your legs wide for him to watch.

While imagining himself inside you, Eivor stood between your legs, the heat from your pussy making him bite his lip. "You have such a pretty pussy, little one," he praised. "One of the prettiest cunts I have ever seen." As Eivor smiled at you, he touched your wetness and guided your hand to touch his hard cock. Finding a rhythm, you both were able to get as close as possible for a kiss without moving faster. "Are you missing the feeling of me stretching your little pussy out? Oh yes, you are so famished for my cock, aren't you?"

As you both became more comfortable, you shook at the feeling of him, his body doing the same. 

You let out a pleasured groan as his fingers slipped inside of you. Inching him until he was lined up with your entrance again, your hand tightened around his throbbing cock as you rolled your head back at the feeling of his fingers fucking you slowly, making you even wetter.

“You’re such a naughty girl, aren’t you, Y/N?” He asked softly, lips parted. “Such a naught girl, a slut for my dripping cock.” Taking his hand away from your wet hole, Eivor heard a whimper of disappointment leaving your lips, though that turned into a whimper of lust as he pushed his tip deep and could feel you clench immediately around his shaft.

As Eivor held you in place, you wrapped your arms around his neck and shoulders, and your legs squeezed his waist. When he threw himself back onto the bed, you took advantage of the situation and pushed him down in order to remain on top. Within seconds, your hands were on his chest, and you rode him hard without a moment's hesitation.

By gripping your hips so tightly, he forced you down, making your pussy swallow his member fully.

"That's it, baby. Give in," he panted, urging you on.

"Fuck… Fill me, Eivor, I need your seed filling my womb," you moaned. Those words came out without a second thought.

Faster you went, the tighter you felt. As Eivor steadied you, your insides gripped tightly onto his cock.

Holding you close, he sat up as you caught your breath; your foreheads touched softly, your hearts pounding. When Eivor leaned in for another kiss, your tongues met and slipped past to explore the other's mouth as your fingers held his bearded face, brushing through his loosened hair as your breathing got heavier.

Eivor flipped you over so you lay on your back, legs tightly around his hips as he thrust into you faster and harder than before. "That's it, dirty cunt," he whispered into your ear after kissing your neck. "Like me fucking your cunt like that, huh? Treating you like a whore, using you as I please?"

“Mark me,” you begged Eivor, rocking your hips back and forth in response to his thrusts. "Make me fucking yours, I want everyone to know I belong to Eivor Wolf-Kissed,” you pleaded dearly.

With Eivor coming inside you, your bodies started clapping louder as all his pent-up energy finally spilled out. His lips trembled as he whispered, pushing a few more times to spread all of his semen within you, "Oh, dear Odin, your cunt feels divine."

You wrapped your legs around his waist, your voice muttering that you felt how hot his cum was and that his cock twitched in a way that made you shiver. As you slid back together, your warm pussy still wrapped tight around his softening shaft, you cuddled in the middle of the bed.

[erzsebetrosztoczy]

Thank you so much for writing that, I really enjoyed reading it. I love ivarr so much 💙would it be okay if I could request an imagine with Sigurd where him and the reader (a shieldmaiden for the clan) are dating but they have to break up because he is forced to marry Randvi. Sigurd asks eivor (male) to watch over her and always be there for her which results in eivor falling for her. (This is before they all go to England)

At your request 😌

Pairing: m!Eivor x f!reader

Word count: ~ 3000

Genre: angst, tiny fluff

Notes: Okay but I dig the "I cannot be with you, so I make sure someone else will keep you safe/company for that other person to fall in love with another so it's kinda a forbidden-love, love triangle I-live-for-drama story. Yesyes good soup :3 tempted to write about this more picturing Sigurd's reaction maybe??? Oh and I'm writing on sutdy break moments so the writing gonna be super slow but I try yall I swear I try 💀

„ No, this can’t go on anymore and you know this.” You sighed sitting up in the bed, the sheet's whisked a gentle breeze that stirred the bright flames of the candles around you. A groan left Sigurd's chest as he joined you, straightening up, his large palms came to rest on your middle, rubbing gentle circles into your skin. He did not respond right away, just sat there beside you, looking ahead as he came to rest his chin on your shoulder- tangled beard and ginger hair tickling your skin. 

"You're to marry her." You continued, tone balked and weak. "How can you expect me to keep my heart this way, as it is right now? How can you expect me to–"

"I do not, my love." He cuts you off with a timid hum, his words resonating throughout your back. "I don't expect you to love me the way we loved each other when this happens… I don't want to– I would never disrespect your honor and trust." 

You felt warmth on your cheeks, as tears broke off from the corner of your eyes, slowly making their way to drop down to your lap. It was no easy task, for neither of you. Sigurd was the clan's prince, the next in line, the only one who's right to lead the Raven clan. And therefore, King Styrbjörn made the decision to strengthen his position, the clan's safety and Sigurd's place by joining clans with a rival of his. Sigurd will marry the Jarl's eldest daughter, thereby forging an alliance with them. 

The duty of a son. The demise of your love with the Raven Prince. 

For weeks you have been consumed by the news, at first you did not believe that your love must soon end. Sigurd offered to go with him that very evening, desperate and hopeless. He will take you to a faraway land, where no one will know you, rank and duty will not matter, only you to each other.

But you both knew it would be an impossible undertaking; would the heir to the throne, who dreamed of following in his father's footsteps since he was a boy, run away from his birthright for the love of a simple blacksmith's daughter?

A girl, whose aging parents are waiting for her at home who loves her, who needs her help and protection. Who would remain among the voices, eyes and mouths in the storm left behind by their child's shame?

No, you were both more mature than that. You will take the responsibility that your ancestors have given to you, so that the white canvas of the lineage does not fail.

“I know, love. I know that.” You calmed Sigurd falling back, leaning your neck on his chest gazing up at him. Sigurd's arms crawled around your torso, reassuringly pulling your body closer to his as he gently rested his chin on the top of your head.

Your lips trembled as a new idea passed through your sweeping mind - a mindless, desperate, shameless idea, but you felt you might be able to survive the hardships that came with it. Your voice was thinning, almost whispering when you uttered the words.

"What if we don’t need to stop our love after all?" You proposed, waiting a few moments to gather the courage to continue. "We do it so that no one knows. They don't know it even now, anyway. It's just that...there would be another person there. During the day, her husband; at night, mine...?"

"Are you saying let's continue all this in the midst of even greater secrecy?" Sigurd's voice rang doubtfully. In addition to deep pain and sadness, bitterness seeped into his words. Are you saying you want me to pretend you're just a side issue? Like I just want to be with you in secret when my wife can't see it?” He moved quickly, you hardly had time to react to him as he crawled back and pulled your body into his lap, hugging you tightly, looking down at you with a worried look. It was then that you saw your dear prince's eyes were glistening with tears.

You couldn't give an answer, just to swallow against the huge lump that was squeezing your throat. You saw no other option but to…

“I will never put you in a situation where you think you're just an affair to me. I love you, my dear, with all my heart, and if it were up to me, I would have made you my wedded wife long winters ago.” He said, leaning down to place a soft kiss on your temple."I want you to be my wife, my partner who stands by my side. You deserve that, nothing less. I wouldn't dishonor you not even for all the treasures of Midgard. But I can't do that."

“So then? Will it all end? What we have? What we share, what we feel? How could I forget this…leave this behind..?” Your vision blurred as tears pooled in your eyes, the man's tall figure looking down at you from behind a wall of water. You waited and hoped for so long, after so many doubts and struggles, when you finally realized that there was more to you than simple friendship. After you were finally brave enough to cross that invisible line. Finally you could be together, and those moments were worth more than any treasure; you finally felt like you found that lost piece of your soul that you've always longed for. Finally, your heart was filled with him, you were happy with him, you were happy with each other. And now it's over? You will be banished once again to a harsh and dark barrenness without Sigurd's care and touch.

"Duty comes first. It doesn't just bind me, it binds you too, and you know that well."Sigurd slowly leaned forward, the warmth emanating from his skin comfortably covering your body, and fearing that he would soon pull away from you, you crossed your arms over his back.

"Whatever fate brings, my heart will be yours forever." 

"I belong to you and you to me as long as we live." His lips whispered, softly caressing your face, one last time.

___

The wind bit hard against his skin as Eivor walked across the creaking wooden planks of the dock, around him- the lights of twilight flickered back from the icy sea. The flames of the torches bent with each gust of wind, dutifully standing at the edge of the pier.

His brother waited for him — arms folded behind his back, standing at the edge of the dock, watching the icy, slow-rolling sea as the blues and greens of the night lights cast upon Mindgard. 

Sigurd took him aside for a word during the day, when Eivor had just returned from his dawn hunt- the stag not yet cooled out on his horse's back when he arrived. A single glance was enough for the young man to realize that something was wrong with his brother, Sigurd's usual serene expression, his eyes shining with peace, now dull and weak.

“Is there a problem, brother?" He raised his hand worriedly on Sigurd's shoulder, growing somber himself. Eivor usually cared for his own business, he didn't like to interfere in others' debates and troubles, but when it came to his brother's burdens, Eivor did everything to see Sigurd happy again.

As his piercing gray-blue eyes focused on Eivor, the young man thought he could feel the pressure of heavy burdens on his brother. Waiting for an answer, he scanned Sigurd's face, trying to figure out what was pressing on his heart.

Sigurd's eyes closed for a moment, a deep frown appeared between his eyebrows, and then they smoothed out just as quickly when he looked back at his little brother. 

"Meet me on the beach after dinner. I have something to discuss with you, Eivor." He announced and after a strong handshake he left, leaving Eivor with the prey he had killed.

The elder brother's gaze was lost in the distance, the unison ripple of the water moved the pieces of the ice armor broken by the ships. Fornburg was quiet at this late hour, only the lapping of the water and the whistling of the wind could be heard. Eivor walked over to his brother silently; standing next to the tall man, he folded his arms across his chest and looked around the bay.

He knew that his brother was not usually this solemn, something really important could be weighing on his soul. Like everything since childhood, the two brothers shared their troubles with each other, looking for advice and sympathy in the other. Eivor decided to wait for Sigurd, let him share his problems with him at his own pace, he would not force this out of his brother.

For a while they stood motionless , silently appreciating the company and the discretion, as the two brothers had done many times before. After a long sigh, Sigurd looked up at the sky, blowing white mist into the air. Waves of colors seemed to follow the sea, the threads and shapes did their eternal dance in silence. 

I presume you heard the news from our father.” The taller brother spoke, hoarse. Eivor glanced at his brother who kept his eyes on the sky- as he nodded. Oh, now he understood what it's all about. Oh, he now understood what it was all about.

"I follow our father in the leadership of the Clan, my duty is to keep my people safe; to give them a good life." He continued, raising his gray iris to Eivor.

The blond lad straightened his posture, his brother's look suggested that his help would be needed now more than ever.

"You will be a good leader." Eivor tried to reassure Sigurd,with  conviction in his voice. Sigurd weakly acknowledged the words with a half-smile, but his eyes only exuded sadness. "No matter what happens brother, you’ll always have me by your side. I'll help you no matter what."

Sigurd wrinkled his nose wryly, as if a white-hot knife had been thrust into his side, as if it caused him immense pain to even talk about it.

"I entrust you with a serious task, brother, because you are the only one in the world in whose hands I would place my life."

An anxious, tight lump grew in Eivor's stomach, waiting for the question he had suspected since their father had told him of Sigurd's betrothal.

"You have to take care of her." Sigurd finally breathed, his voice breaking in the evening frost. "Be there for her and make sure she lives the life she deserves. The one we both know she deserves." Sigurd made him promise. .

___

Stretching your legs, you jumped off the rock, splashing the sparkling water onto the sand in the shallows.

"The fish must have heard that the dreaded Wolfsmal was stomping this way and ran up to the trees in fright." Chuckling, you strode over to Eivor's side, hands clasped behind your back, chin lifted to examine him as he stood in the stream with his breeches pulled up to his knees, fishing line in hand.

The man huffed one with pretended rage, lifting one leg in the stream, he kicked towards you, soaking your thin linen apron. You squealed and jumped back- a grimace of surprise and astonishment plastered on your face.

"Evor!" You shouted insulted, immediately bending down to return the “kind” gesture to the man by dipping your arm into the ice-cold spring. Laughing, you rushed at him, splashing the water back at him, that made Eivor dart backwards, his deep laughter echoing in the roaring water. 

“If you keep doing this, there won't be fish for dinner and then you can try to explain to Tekla what we were up to instead of doing the chores.”

"Oh, I'm not the one who stands in the stream for half a day without a catch!" You cut back, spraying a veil of water over Eivor's head again. Having enough of your duel wrapped the line around his hand, starting to move towards you, his strong legs carrying him with easy through the heavy upstream. Turning back to the shore, you stumbled out onto the dry just in time, when you felt the touch of his wet, cold hand on your upper arm, closing around your torso from both sides, erasing even the thought of escape from your mind. 

Your legs rose from the ground as you tried to kick free as one of Eivor's arms crawled under your knees, scooping you up in his arms like you weighed nothing.

"Put me  down, Eivor!" You rolled your eyes at him, but his huge smile just betrayed the mischief, hiding across his face. "Do you hear that? Don't you dare throw me in the—" You ordered, trying to sound menacing and angry, but just like Eivor's face, your own was beaming with childish glee.

The man firmly grabbed your legs and arms and spun around on the shore, slapping you in the face with his untangled, wet curls. Apart from the roar of the river and the birds' whistles in the green forest, only the laughter and shouts of the two of you could be heard far along the river. 

Sometimes, in moments like this, you forgot that what you call home now, was a foreign land a long time ago. A foreign country, with foreign people - but also a new beginning, a clean start. Leaving the past behind, you and your family came to this island in search of a new life.  At first, it was searing, almost unbearable pain that you constantly felt when you saw Sigurd beside another;  when you were no longer able to touch his scarred skin or press soft kisses onto his lips– all slowly drifted away in your mind and heart, leaving a throbbing wound, now only a memory for you.

Eivor was always there to distract you from them. As in battle, so in everyday life you sought his presence; your friendship - initially bonded by Sigurd- grew stronger, growing into faithful companions who were always there for each other at arm's length.

You knew that, and you felt it on Eivor as well; this bond was important to both of you. The two lonely souls, often separated from the clan, could have a kindred soul by their side. And you also knew very well that this arm's length was slowly shrinking. Pulling the thread of the bond on you ever tighter...

After finishing the game, you both started collecting your fishing gear and your own belongings, moving quickly and smoothly around each other. You glanced to the side from the horses, catching Eivor tossing his water-dripping mane back in frustration, leaving dark blue stains on his blue tunic. Sighing in amusement, you turned back to him, hands on your hips.

"Shall I help you?" You called out to him, but before Eivor could answer, you quickly stepped behind him.

You ran your fingers through his blonde curls, the thick strands gently tickling your fingertips. Eivor's shoulders relaxed with a sigh, instantly bending his knees so you could reach his head.

Not a single word was spoken between you, as your nimble fingers braided his long hair into a loose line, careful not to pull on his lush curls.

Finishing your work, you wiped your wet hands on your skirt, Eivor turned, towering over you as he  faced you. The man must have been two heads taller than you, so close to him you had to bend your neck back a little to be able to look into his shining sky blue eyes.

His eyes always seemed to you they were in a different color each time you locked eyes with him. Ice blue, light blue, greenish blue- it seemed that Eivor's penetrating gaze was the night light itself. It was as if Eivor carried a part of your past within himself. The water was still dripping from his beard and forehead, small drops falling onto your face. An arm's length away, you were always just an arm's length away from each other.

"Eivor…" You breathed softly, raising your palm to your cheek. You didn't even notice that your thumb brushed away a drop of water from under his eyes. He knew everything about you, and you knew everything about him, the days when you were alone in his absence passed so bitterly slowly.

His searching gaze betrayed his thoughts when it fell from your eyes to your slightly open lips for a few moments. And you caught the moment. Whether it was you or the man who broke the still moment, you didn't know. You only realized it, when his lips were on yours, soft flesh melting over yours as a hand crept across your middle, pulling your body towards his form. Eyelids closed, you eagerly answered the movement, capturing his tender bottom lips between your teeth. At this action, Eivor groaned into the kiss, eyebrows furrowing in concentration as he slightly skimmed across your lips with his tongue. The touch burnt your skin all across your body, tingling and pinching you, as your mind buzzed in excitement. 

The warmth left your lips too soon, cold air sweeping across your flushed face as Eivor leant back. His gaze felt so tender across your form, adoring warmth glimmered in his eyes, a hand rubbing your side up and down. 

The distance has now dissipated, a thread has grown stronger and tighter, as it connected your hearts, opening a new path for you.

[sweetmeldies]

modern!eivor is either from the mother land of Norway or Minnesota/North Dakota

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

Legionary

Pairing: General Marcus Acacius x Lucius Verus x Female Reader Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Summary: Marcus returns to his hometown while traveling with his young soldier who's eager to learn from him. Good thing he knows your domus is always open to him. Warnings: SMUT, bad Roman definitions, MMF, softdom!Marcus Acacius, oral (f&m receiving), unprotected p in v, creampie, lots of praise kink, m!masturbation, wine. Words: 3,400

Masterlist

A/N: Oh hi! This is my first fic in almost two months, it's been a whirlwind of a time in my personal life, but that Gladiator trailer lit SOMETHING FILTHY in me. I know VERY LITTLE about roman times, other than the stuff I learned years and years ago in history and bits Assassins Creed games. I know angel wasn’t really a “thing” back then but I’m using it. This hasn't been beta read and this is my first dive into MMF. A big shout out to @pascalispretty for some language help and of course @ohheypedrito for always being my sounding board. A few definitions are below to note before reading.

municipium: town | domus: home | hospitium: hotel | subligaculum: underwear 

The gate creaks as it swings open, interrupting your respite.

“Angel” the man’s familiar deep voice sends a shiver down your spine, his dark brown eyes focus on your wide eyes. 

“M-Marcus,” your voice shakes when you rise and bow to him. Ten years since you’ve seen him, Marcus Acacius, your municipium’s pride and joy, now a powerful general, commanding armies across the battlefield. Now he stands in front of you just as handsome as he was all those years ago… the hold on your heart returns. 

You’re a rarity in your municipium, running a small hospitium out of your domus hosting weary travelers and soldiers perfectly capable of doing everything on your own, yet the sight of Acacius sends you right back to the last time you saw him… your teenage crush disappearing beyond the horizon as he heads for war. 

Gray hairs streak his lush, curly hair, he’s just as beautiful as he was all those years ago. 

“No need to do that angel,” grabbing your hand he brings it to his mouth, you sink at the touch of his lips on your hand. “It’s been so long.”

“Yes, quite long,” your voice squeaks out.

“Lucius and I need a room,” Marcus nods towards the handsome blue eyed man behind him. The vision of them sends a spark to your core, corded muscles, golden skin, strength exuding out of both of them, they’re a dream. “We’re here for the night.”

___

The wine flows, Marcus is just as warm and comforting as you remember. The attraction between you crackles and sparks like the fire burning in the corner of the room. 

A slight touch against your back turns into a hand laid across your hip, pulling your body closer to his. Lucius watches all of it from across the room, his blue eyes glowing in the aureate light of the flames.

You invite all of the attention put forth by the two men, the sweet wine loosens the three of your inhibitions, laughter growing louder, stories and confessions turning more risque, Marcus’ touch searing hotter against your skin. 

“So, angel, it looks like you still haven’t found anyone good enough to have your heart?” His tone is teasing, his smile infectious.

“Not yet, still haven’t found someone as handsome or as good as you, you know all of my choices around here are nothing compared to you,” you giggle. 

His eyes darken at your words, a light joke turns serious at your confession.

Turning to him, the whole room, including his blue eyed companion, disappears. Your breath hitches at the look he gives you. Deep, dark, brooding, his pouty lips cocked up in a smirk. The look invites you to confess further. 

“I’ve thought about you every day since you left all those years ago. You pulled me apart and then left me alone to try to find someone else. You know nobody could have ever compared to you… to my first.”

His hand finds your cheek, you lean into the rough texture of his digits, eyes welling with all of the tears you refused to shed through the years. 

“Don’t speak like that angel, I’m here now. I’m here tonight. I’m here for you.” Your eyes follow Acacius’ as he looks over at Lucius, your sorrow replaced by wanton lust when you hear his voice drop deeper, “We’re both here for you tonight.” 

A gasp leaves your lips at the suggestion, your eyes still trained on Lucius. 

“Is that what you want? Both of us tonight angel? Let me prove to you how much I’ve thought of you. How I’ve destroyed every being that stood between you and I. How my heart leapt out of my chest at the sight of you. Let me show my soldier what it means to pleasure a woman. Is that what you want?” A chaste kiss is left against your exposed shoulder. His words swirl through your head, sending a rush of slick between your legs.

“Yes Marcus,” you answer.  

“Good. Do you hear that soldier? Watch as her body reacts to me.” He grabs your chin, angling it up for his plush lips to surround yours, a sigh rolls through your body. You turn to putty in his hands, malleable and ready to form yourself into any shape he wishes. He turns towards his companion, your lips chasing his, the kiss wasn’t enough. “Now go ahead, ask her what she wants, soldier, listen to her.”

Lucius sits up straighter, his shoulders rise. He is a soldier, eager to listen to his commander. “What do you want?” His words melt through you, strong and powerful, just like Marcus.

You take what you want, they’re only here for one night. “I want you both to touch me.”

The chuckle Marcus lets out vibrates against your ear before he stands and helps you up.

“You hear that?” 

Lucius nods. 

“Then come closer Lucius, she wants us both.”

Marcus’ hand runs up your spine to the knot that keeps your body sheathed in your dress, one quick pull and the fabric pools on the floor. 

A river of blue roams your body as Lucius takes in your bare form. 

Marcus stands behind you pulling you against him, the metal on his uniform presses against your skin, you wish the appliques would sear against your skin as a reminder of this night forever.

“Isn’t she beautiful?” Marcus’ deep timbre sends a wave of pleasure through your body. Goosebumps cover your skin. 

“Quite,” Lucius whispers.

“Speak up soldier, a woman like this deserves to hear your praise.”

“Quite,” he stands straighter. “She’s very beautiful.”

“You see Lucius, a woman needs to be touched gently and cared for.” His calloused hand slides across the soft skin between your breasts. “Too many men take what they want and ravage, without any concern for the pleasure of their partner.”

Lucius’ eyes roam your body, his tongue peaking out to wet his lips. You wonder if they taste sweet like Marcus’ lips… like wine and honey.

Your breasts are cradled between Marcus’ hands. “Do you like this angel?” A low approving groan escapes your mouth. “Touch her soldier.”

Another set of hands joins the exploration of your skin. Marcus leads a trail down your stomach and hips, less rough and smaller hands replace his, cupping your breasts, your nipples pebbling as he twists and pulls them. 

“You never want to start too soon, you want to work a woman up, get her nice and warmed up, make her wet between the legs. You're a big man Lucius, you want her to be soft and welcoming for you.” His hands move to your core, parting your folds, running a finger through your wetness. “That takes work,” whispers across your neck before his tongue licks a line across it.  

The last time he touched you like this he swore his love and devotion to you, repeated how he’ll miss you more than the Gods could comprehend come morning. He told you he’d come back for you, though you both knew it was a lie, as long as he kept touching you, you didn’t care what untruths left his mouth.

Now, years later, he’s back for the night, his finger teasing your clit and his mouth against your skin. 

“Touch Lucius, go on, I know he wants it, but he’s being a good man and not taking what isn’t his. Let him know you want him angel.”

You’re eager to listen, to please Marcus, just like you’re under his command too. Your hands reach out to feel the young soldier’s arms, Lucius’ biceps are firm, bright blue eyes dart up to yours at the first touch, his eyes shine like the sunniest summer sky, another gush of wetness pools against Marcus’ hand. His young squire reminds you of him years ago, youthful and bright eyed, muscular and soft skinned. His brawn would seem so much more intimidating if it wasn’t for his burly leader standing behind you with his hand between your legs. 

Lucius hisses when your hands run up his chest to wrap around his neck pulling him closer, his breath puffing against your face as your tongue darts out to lick his lips. His nose crashes against yours when you kiss him, his lips aren't as plush as Marcus’ but you were right, they too taste sweet. His tongue joins yours, your kisses turning messier while Marcus worships you, sticking two of his thick fingers inside you. 

You’re thankful for Marcus’ broad body against your back and Lucius’ hands against your chest, both of them propping you up while your legs grow shakier from the pleasure.

“Feel how she’s trembling against you soldier? You like how she’s sucking at your lips while I make her cum all over my fingers?” Lucius groans against your lips at Marcus’ words. Four hands work your body to a quick orgasm, your naked body rocking between the two military men, your pussy clenching Marcus’ fingers as a rush of warmth rolls across your limbs. Overwhelmed by their touch, you’ve never felt more powerful and powerless. 

“That’s a good angel,” Marcus whispers into your ear. His fingers pull out, a whimper flits out of your lips at the loss of fullness.

“Do you want to taste her soldier?” 

“Yes master.” 

Marcus wipes his fingers across your lips, Lucius grabs your chin before licking a line across your lips now glistening with your arousal, swirling his tongue around your mouth cleaning the tangy sweetness from your skin. 

“She tastes good, doesn’t she soldier?”

“Yes master.”

“Now,” Marcus easily lifts you into his arms, his hands resting against your bottom, splaying your legs open, your arms instinctively reaching back to wrap around his neck. “Really taste her, lick her clean, shove your tongue into her cunt. Go on.”

Lucius kneels in front of you, your body lies like a ragdoll pliant and hung across Marcus’ body ready for the young soldier’s taking. His nose bumps against your clit as he penetrates you with his tongue, spiraling it around your hole. His blue eyes burn a hole into your soul, your body relaxes further into Marcus’ hold as he devours your pussy. The general’s deep voice coaches him, ordering him to suck your clit, pump his tongue in you harder, savor the taste of you soaking his mouth. Your whine echoes across the concrete walls of your domus, hands clutching Marcus’ soft curls as Lucius grinds his tongue against your clit pulling another orgasm up, your body convulsing in the general’s arms, his hard chestplate bruising your back as your pussy floods Lucius’ mouth. 

Marcus kisses your hair, gently laying you down against the soft linen of your rug. 

Two Roman soldiers stand in front of you, your body splayed and disheveled by your two orgasms and the promise of more to come.

“You’ve done well son,” Marcus pats Lucius on the back. “Look how her pussy is sparkling in this light, isn’t she the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen? Now, let us undress for her. She deserves it.”

You muster the strength to prop yourself up watching the two men unbuckle their armor, exposing golden chests, Marcus’ peppered with more scars, a burlier canvas that has seen more battles. Lucius’ body is more delicate, tight skin wrapped around bulging muscles. The general and the soldier, both now removing their skirts and unwrapping their subligaculum. Sun warmed and tanned skin, miles of tense muscles built up by war, battle, and training. Their half hard cocks lay heavy between thick thighs, your mouth waters at the thought of both of them filling your mouth and cunt. 

Marcus slides a chair into the middle of the floor. “Take a seat, soldier.” Lucius nods and settles on the wood. “You’re going to watch her take what she wants from me.” 

Marcus sits on the floor, settling his back against the wall. 

“Come here angel.” 

Crawling towards him on shaky legs, you’ve dreamt of this vision, his legs spread wide, cock standing tall, hard, and leaking… waiting for you. The crease in his brow deepens, his focus beckoning you forward, now close enough to watch the flames of the fire flicker in the reflection of his dark brown eyes. He easily lifts you again, turning you to face Lucius, leaning your body against his before rubbing his cock along your sensitive cunt. 

A booming grunt swims through your ears as you slowly sink down on Marcus’ length, your eyes squeeze shut while your body slowly accepts him, you’re surrounded by him, his voice swimming in your ears, his hands gripping your hips, his chest slick with sweat supporting your knackered body, his cock stretching you wide open.

“Oh angel, you feel devine,” he smiles into your neck once you take him all in. “She feels so good soldier, show her how much you like watching her take my cock,” he growls.

“Yes master,” Lucius licks a line up his palm before wrapping his hand around himself, his body relaxing at his own touch. You lean forward, gripping your hands around Marcus’ well-muscled sturdy calves opening yourself up wider to his thrusts. Lucius strokes himself to the same pace of your pussy sliding up and down on his general, your eyes and his blue eyes locked in contact. 

Both men’s attention blooms inside of your chest, your heart quickening as Marcus pounds your pussy. The sound of his rising hips slapping against your ass meld with the noises of Lucius’ strokes flows through your ears like a beautiful song. Your mouth slacks open, garbled noises begin escaping your throat when Marcus circles a thick finger around your clit. Lucius twists at his head, pulling and biting his lip when he sees you come apart on his leader’s cock. Your orgasm decimates you, you feel like a lone enemy soldier, two two men leaving you defenseless and utterly devastated. Strength gives out, your shivering body collapses against Marcus’ legs. Lucius rushes over and gathers you, lifting you off of his leader, his eyes looking down at you concernedly, a weak, blissed out smile pulls at your lips. 

“She’s okay soldier, this is how you know you’re doing a good job. Feel how soft and pliant she is, how she’s molding to your arms?” Marcus rises, his cock still hard and throbbing as he sits on the chair. “Hold her, tell he she’s doing good. Let her rest a bit, there is still much for her… and you, to do tonight.” 

“You’re so good, so beautiful, I know why master calls you angel, you look like one.” 

You fight off the demons of exhaustion, staring up at Lucius’ strong jaw, rising to sit in his lap, his cock pressing against your ass as a reminder that there is still much work for you to do. Marcus’ lips form a smirk, his hands resting against thick thighs, cock still standing at attention. 

“Didn’t take long, did it angel?” Marcus leans forward slowly rising and sauntering over. He cradles his dick in his hands, tempting you while he squeezes along his shaft. “Hold her hair, soldier.”

Lucius gathers your hair in his hands, his movements are so delicate compared to Marcus’ brute force. They’re the perfect amalgamation of hard and soft. 

Marcus brings his cock to your lips, precum leaks from his tip on to your puckered lips, you welcome him into your mouth, opening wide for him to slide his shaft against your tongue. He tastes divine, salty and intoxicating. Your cheeks strain, mouth agape stuffing his fat cock in your mouth. The general only conquers what he knows he can take, and he knows he can take you for everything you have. He thrusts all of his power into you hitting the back of your mouth, leaving you gagging and streaming spit down your chin. Lucius gathers your hair in his fist, pulling against your scalp, you admire his bravery to also take what he wants, making it hurt a little for you. You want these men to use you, to deplete you, to fill you with their cum, you’ll wear it as a badge of honor, much like they do on their armor.

Marcus looks down at you, eyes filled with adoration, his cock fucking your mouth, spit still drooling out of the sides of your mouth, tears welling in your eyes. You feel like a mess but the way he smiles at you blooms something bright inside of you, your cheeks hollow around his girth, sucking him harder, hands planting against his ass pulling him even deeper inside the cavern of your mouth.

Marcus yanks himself out of your mouth, leaving you gasping and mourning the feeling of his cock. “If you continue, I’m going to cum down your throat, sweet girl, and I’m not ready yet.” He plops back down on the chair, throwing the back of his wrist against his forehead wiping the sweat off his brow, you want to taste his skin. 

Lucius lets go of your hair, his hands wrapping around your torso, pushing you back to rest against him, a sigh of contentment leaves your mouth. 

“Touch her soldier, tell me if she’s still wet and waiting.” 

Lucius trails his hand down to between your legs, swiping against your sensitive flesh, you moan at the contact. 

“So wet,” he whispers incredulously, “I think she’s ready, master.” 

“Good. Can you get on all fours, angel?”

You nod, leaning forward, your quick repose giving you the strength to support yourself. 

“Take her soldier, go ahead. Conquer her. Keep your eyes on me angel.” 

You grin wide towards Marcus as Lucius slides himself in you. He’s nothing like his general, whose large cock left you wide open for his subordinate. Lucius’ exhales cools the overheated skin on the back of your neck as he folds himself over you. 

His movements are slower, more reserved, he’s holding back. 

“Fuck me soldier,” you order, legs widening, hips bucking back towards him. 

“Good!” Marcus barks and claps his hands. “You heard her, take her, she wants all of you, take her soldier,” Marcus snarls. 

“Yes master,” Lucius croaks before spearing you with his cock, giving you the lucious friction you’ve been craving from him. 

Marcus kneels down, propping your head up in his hands. Your hands grip the edge of the rug, grounding yourself in the moment of bliss. Lucius’ taut thighs knock against yours with each thrust. Your whimpers are swallowed by Marcus, his lips pepper your face with kisses in between words of praise for taking his soldier so well. Your knees burn as Lucius grinds his hips against you, pulling himself fully out before sinking himself all the way in. Marcus gives you one last chaste kiss before replacing his lips against yours with his cock. Your moans vibrate against the soft skin of him, tasting what’s left of yourself and his precum. You’re so incredibly close, shattered by the two men’s cocks taking your mouth and your pussy for everything you have, gushing from both holes to satisfy the brave soldiers. Your eyes see stars as they roll back into your head, Marcus grips your hair as he fucks your face, your nose hitting the nest of curls as he slaps the back of your throat with his cock. ‘Use me, use me, use me,’ are the only words that rattle around your brain. Shockwaves soar through your body, your pussy clenches around Lucius’ cock milking him as he cums inside your pussy, his voice chanting your name against your skin. 

Marcus lets out a guttural growl pulling his cock from your mouth. 

“Sit down and hold her against your lap soldier,” Marcus snaps. 

Lucius perches himself on the floor, placing you on his lap, the both of you still coming down from your shared climax. 

Marcus rushes over, pumping himself to his peak, his eyes squinting, upper lip snarling as he shoots thick white ropes of cum across your face and tits. The three of you collectively pant for air, a shared overwhelming feeling of euphoria plants inside of your hearts. 

“Now, clean her up soldier,” Marcus commands, taking a seat on the chair and folding his arms across his chest. 

[bits-and-babs]

𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐘 𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐓 — 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐍

↳ summary: Paired with him on a bounty hunting mission, you find irritating Mando so much fun. The result is even better.

↳ pairing: the mandalorian x f!reader

↳ word count: 2.3k

↳ content: 18+ MDNI. Goading, irritating an already frustrated Bounty Hunter Mando. Mando is very dom!vibes in this one. Oral (m receiving), gagging, dirty talk, use of ‘good girl’. This is a @beskarbabs remastered fic - original post date 2021.

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The ferocity of the irritation that burns through the Mandalorian’s veins is akin to the most violent sand storms on Tatooine, coarse and red hot if the tightness of his fists were anything to go by. At some points on this trip, in search of the bounty, he had questioned whether his vexation was rational. At one point, Mando even considered that maybe he was being indignant and overly emotional— but the moment you had opened your mouth again, he realised he was entirely justified in his vehemence.

A fellow Bounty Hunter Guild member, you had been asked by Greef Karga to join Mando on a mission to collect an assassin and mercenary who had been wreaking havoc all over the galaxy. Despite Karga briefing you for hours that this assassin who had been working for the Hutts with a clean record for kills would bring in a lot of credits if you were successful, you hadn’t required convincing. Your assigned partner was all you needed to take the job.

The Mandalorian had caught your attention from the moment you stepped into the Guild. Not for his creed, no. It was his altogether cantankerous personality. You hadn't come across many Mandalorians in your lifetime, but you had heard of their reputation as the galaxy's ultimate warriors. What you hadn't expected, though, was his personality being as flat and emotionless as his beskar helmet. The man had scarcely acknowledged you, and when he did, it was a simple grunt or irked one-liner. You plan to change that. Plan to force him to talk to you, even if it is for more than a couple of seconds.

Undeterred by the Mandalorian lamenting and proclaiming his distaste for partner work, Karga had confirmed that the two of you would be collaborating on this particular task. And he clearly despised you for it.

You had tormented the fellow bounty hunter the entire journey to find the target, had commented on how he probably looked better with the mask on anyway, and that Bantha shit was presumably more appealing. Went from claiming he was a shit shot to teasing him over his flying abilities. Always picking on him for sounding like a droid due to his modulated voice- this irked him the most, oddly enough. However, even though his distaste towards you and seemingly everyone else was obvious, you knew he wasn't entirely callous.

You had seen his attentive nature towards the little green critter that accompanied the beskar-clad man over the journey it had taken for you to pinpoint the bounty. He watched closely, ensuring the 'wamp-rat" was safe at all times. You’re uncertain how long the two had been together. Still, it was clear that the creature had broken through the bleak exterior of the Mandalorian, as you’d often happened upon candid moments where Mando would pass The Child a little silver ball from his navigation sticks inside the cockpit or the two snuggled up during sleep.

Despite these facts, you can’t help how you enjoy tormenting the Mandalorian. You revel in his short temper and moody fits of frustration. When paired with The Child's altogether cheeky personality, you knew that Mando was consoled by the fact that both of you had managed to locate and capture the bounty, and he would only have to spend a few more hours with the both of you torturing him.

Regardless, you continue to prattle on at him, much to his irritation after what must have been hours of this already.

"You knoooow, maybe I was wrong..." you continue, watching the beskar helmet tilt towards you. He doesn’t say anything, but you know he’s somewhat interested in what you have to say. You bite back a smirk, trying your best to remain unreadable in your expression and what you have planned.

"Maybe you are quite good-looking under that helmet. You always act so suave. Only a man with a big dick and a handsome face would walk around with that much confidence," you point out boldly. A soft, distorted sigh of frustration works its way through the modulator of his mask, making it evident that you were, indeed, still annoying him.

"Come on, Mando~" you smirk, leaning forward in your seat as if trying to get a better look at him- like you could see through his visor, "Can’t you give me just a little peek?"

He doesn’t answer. You could predict what he would say if he did; 'You know I can't'.

"Don't you want to? Don't you want to show people what you look like? Maybe there are beautiful women you've met in bars that you want to charm- or men, I'm not one to judge," you shrug, holding your hands up. He scoffs.

"No?" you arch an eyebrow. He turns back to the view outside the window, voice monotone as he answers.

"I don't remove the helmet for any reason. The only time would be after a wedding ceremony back at the tribe." You give a groan of protest at that, falling back in your chair as you tilt your head to look up at the ceiling.

"You're saying I'd have to marry you to see your face?!"

"I'd advise against it," he grumbles, fiddling with the controls before him, even though he had been on autopilot for a good few hours. You can see you're getting under his skin talking about this. Was he... flustered?

You sit up again, considering your next move, feeling the excitement of toying with him build in your chest as you lower your voice.

"Why not just... Enjoy yourself. There's no need to be so uptight..." You murmur, ever so slowly getting up out of your seat. He watches you closely as you make your way across the durasteel floor, closing the small distance between the two of you quickly. There's a moment of silence, thick and tense, that you swear you can feel run down your spine and settle between your legs. How you wished you could see his expression. Would he be glaring? It was so hard to navigate without being able to read his face.

Regardless, you push ahead with your plan. Deliberately and gradually sinking down to your knees in front of Mando, you see him stiffen at the sight of you between his legs.

"What are you doing?" he asks, the invariability in his voice cracking despite the modulator, and you hear something akin to surprise seep into his voice. You don't answer at first, laying your cheek against his thigh and gazing up at him provocatively.

"It must have been a while..." you mumble, feeling him jolt as you trace your fingertips on his flightsuit-clad thigh through the gaps of his beskar-plate armour, "Aren't you worked up?"

Mando looks away, holding tightly onto whatever sanity he has left.

Yes, he’s worked up. You know he’s wound up so tight it fucking hurts, and it’s entirely your fault. You'd been teasing him like this for days on end, so much so you’d forgotten how long you had actually been working together on this mission. Has it been five days? A week? Three? You knew Mando felt the same. His days had all melted together after the third sleepless night, disturbed from sleep by the viscous mixture of intense sexual frustration and exasperation.

You made his life difficult the moment you stepped onto the Crest. Working to ensure your body seared itself into his mind. To make him swear that your unique smell had somehow seeped its way into even his own clothes.

You see his helmet till down suddenly in shock, a groan slipping past his lips at the sudden feeling of your nose pressing into the bulge of his already-hardening cock. He watches your tongue glide across the fabric of his pants as you let out your own whine at the feeling of him trembling beneath you.

The strain of the leather in his gloves crackles in your ears as he balls his hands into fists at his side when you pull away, a smirk on your lips. He's practically shaking- with rage or pleasure, you're not quite sure. Though, you're enjoying it. Enjoying this hold you have over such a powerful man. Mandalorians were meant to be fearless warriors, revered across the galaxy. But this one was so... Needy, even if he refused to show it. It boosted your confidence and made you feel almost... transcendent.

Undeterred, you bite back your smug grin and begin to stand again. You stare into the visor of that dispassionate mask, the one he hid all his emotions behind, as you wish you could gain some insight into what he’s thinking. You give a slight shrug of your shoulders when Mando doesn’t respond to the absence of your touch or the intensity of your gaze.

"Perhaps I was wrong, after all..." you hum, holding the fixed look before turning away from him as you continue to speak with your back turned to him, "Maybe you don't have as big of a cock as I thou-"

It all happens so fast that it was like you had unwittingly jumped into hyperspace. You feel the leather grip of the bounty hunter's hand at the base of your neck, pulling you so hard that you turn to face him and bump into his chest plate. The intensity of the collision practically winds you, and paired with the power of the aura the man wearing it was exuding, you forgot how to breathe.

"You don't get to look at me like that after that little performance," Mando rasps softly, fingertips digging into the back of your neck ever so slightly. Before you even have the opportunity to respond to this assertive behaviour, he's pushing you to your knees once again.

You hit the durasteel with a stinging thud, the pain of the pull from your skin under your own body weight against the cold, hard flooring jolting you from the daze his gravelly voice imposed on you. His palm lays at the back of your head, pushing your face back into his stiff cock. You moan, flattening your tongue against him through his pants as you hook the waistband of his trousers under your thumbs, tugging them down slowly.

The husky growl of approval that leaves his throat is almost divine, sending tremors through your thighs. Wherever this powerful, demanding side of him came from, you wanted more of it. Whimpering as you take his free cock from his trousers, you note how thick he is. The head of his dick is so swollen and red, so desperate for your touch. Not wanting to waste any more time, you trace your tongue over the tip, savouring the taste of the precum that has beaded there.

He grunts, the pads of his leather-clad fingertips pressing into your scalp as you continue to lick and kiss gently before taking him into your mouth with a soft hum. The vibrations must feel good because his hips jolt forward suddenly. The reputable, almost legendary bounty hunter of the Guild is coming apart on your tongue. The thought was enough for you to feel a searing heat blaze between your thighs, and you take him deeper into your mouth, running your tongue against the veins on the underside of his cock.

"See how you’ve shut up now, little brat? Taking my cock like this.” He murmurs, looking down at you as you take him to the point that the tip bumps into the back of your throat. He keens slightly, losing his train of thought as he feels the back of your throat strain against his length.

"Yes, good girl… Is it as big as you thought?" he rumbles, moving his hand underneath your chin, thumb and forefinger pressing into either side of the curves of your jaw with his palm against your throat.

"I want to feel you take my cock, yes, good girl," he lets out a throaty growl as he begins to thrust into your mouth, pressing his palm harder against your neck to feel his length move in and out of your throat. You rest your hands against the beskar on his thighs, the cold of the metal easing the searing heat of your skin.

You press your nose into his pubic bone, taking in the musky scent of his pubic hair. He smelt so fucking good- you swear your mouth waters.

"Fuck," he growls loudly, beginning to ramble, "Know your place, you little brat. This is my ship, my rules." His thrusts harder, setting a brutal pace that makes your eyes water. You shift your gaze to stare into his visor, but his head is tilted back, lost in the pleasure you're giving him. You see the exposed underside of his throat this way, littered with dark stubble. He has facial hair. How would that feel between your legs-?

You moan, and he grips the back of your head again, pushing your head down to take him even deeper. You're gagging, loving every minute of him using you, punishing you for your bad behaviour.

"Fuck-" he gasps out, the sound so fucking sexy with the modulator as his hips stutter and his balls pull tight. His cum hits your tongue, and you pull back enough to lap at the tip as he cums, his back arching slightly as you relish in the salty, delicious taste of him as he throbs against your tongue. You savour him in your mouth until he's absolutely spent, and soft moans that are barely audible filter into your ears.

Pulling back slowly in an effort to catch your breath again, he grabs your chin and forces you to look up at him as he pants in time with your unsteady, shaky exhales.

"Behave."

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[angel-tries-to-write]

Bisexual disasters

Fandom: Assassin’s Creed Rating: General Pairing: Jacob Frye x Reader (not quite, can be platonic) Word count: 1501 Genre: fluff

In Victorian England, people who love differently, aren't really welcomed. Thankfully, the Rooks have different opinions.

Underground London would always follow its own rules. What was forbidden among the upper class, was common in places like this. It also meant it was fun, because nobles rarely knew how to have fun. The clock in this bar was showing almost eleven in the night, but you knew the real fun hadn't started yet. That night you wanted to take it slow, so you were sipping your ale when the others switched to something stronger already. You were fine with what you had, after all you wanted to get relaxed, not wrecked.

Apparently Jacob had similar plans, though he already had whisky, he was sipping it much slower than usual. But what didn't change was a bunch of omnipresent Rooks surrounding him, though the closest spots were taken by enamored young women who looked at the Assassin with adoration, they were drinking in his presence rather than drink alcohol like everyone else. You could also notice a group of men by the window, they were whispering and watching the scene with amusement. You assumed they were making fun of the girls and their loud gasps every time Jacob was flirting with one of them. And the more drunk he was getting, the more flirty he would become.

Suddenly one of the men from the distant group stood up, emptied his mug and approached Jacob. You could tell he was nervous.

“Boss, may I have a request?” he asked and Frye looked at him for a moment, then smirked.

“Ask whatever you want, lad” he answered and the poor guy got even more nervous. You observed it with curiosity.

“M-may I ask it privately? I mean, I...” he sighed. “I've lost a bet and I need to do something, but I don't want to lose my place among the Rooks” he explained with cheeks redder every moment. Jacob stood up and came close to the lad, then pulled him out of the prying ears. They talked for a brief moment, then Jacob approached the group by the window and he was rather upset. You had left your spot and moved closer to them, so you would be able to hear what they were talking about. The gang leader leaned on the table and looked at the young men.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, boss! We just wanted him to do something and confront his fears. We had no ill will, we swear, Rook's honor!” said one of them and the others nodded vigorously. Jacob looked at the lad, seeking for confirmation in his face. As soon as he had found it, the Assassin stepped back from the table, pulled the man close and kissed him shamelessly.

You couldn't believe your eyes. That huge flirt and womanizer was kissing a man. Unbelievable. But the more shocking was that no one around them actually cared. The guy's friends were shocked, but not offended, they were more surprised than disgusted. You couldn't take it anymore, you needed to leave, now. The sound of your chair moving rapidly drew more attention than Jacob's action, but you couldn't care less. You stormed outside, not bothering if someone saw you or not, you needed some air, you needed to calm down. Your head was spinning, your mind was a mess, and you didn't know what to think anymore.

Suddenly you heard footsteps behind your back, but you didn't turn around to see who it was. It's not like you had to, Jacob revealed himself pretty soon, when he called after you.

“(Y/n), what's wrong?” he asked. You didn't answer, only started to walk faster, then run. “(Y/n), wait!” he ran after you and soon he grabbed your hand, stopping you. “What happened? Why are you running away?” he asked, trying to understand what was going on.

“Why did you do that?” you asked instead.

“(Y/n), I...”

“Why would you do that? And so casually, like it was nothing, when we both know it's a big thing! You were not supposed to do that, then why did you do it?” you kept asking, not noticing the raise of your voice.

“What's gotten into you?”

“Just tell me. Please.” You looked at him with desperation in your eyes. You needed to know the answers.

“I just felt like it” he shrugged. “The boy is cute and he really should stop overthinking stuff.”

“Are you... do you... like... uh...” you tried to ask but the words kept stucking in your throat.

“Do I like men? Honestly, I don't know. It's all so wrong and messed up. But I think I do. And I like women too. It's confusing” he confessed. “But why did it upset you?”

“I'm sorry. It's not about you, it's about me” you admitted.

“What do you mean?”

“I... I understand this confusion. I've been feeling it my whole life. I like men, but there was always something drawing me to women either” you confessed and you could see Jacob's face changing from concern and confusion to understanding and relief. “When I saw you kissing that lad, I just couldn't take it anymore. All those feelings I've been trying to hide and get rid of through all my life just overwhelmed me.”

“Come here” Jacob opened his arms, offering you a hug. You hesitantly accepted his offer, but soon you had found peace in his embrace. “You have no idea how much it means to me. I have never met someone who would feel like I do.”

“Neither have I.”

“Can we go back to the pub?”

“Yes. I think I owe everyone an explanation.”

“Good point.”

You came back to the place you had left and the first thing you did was to find the lad Jacob had kissed. When you saw him miserably drinking his ale, you nearly ran there.

“Hey, I just wanted to say sorry for storming out like that. I can imagine you might have thought that it was your fault, but I swear it wasn't. You just helped me understand something about myself” you said smiling sheepishly and the guy smiled with relief.

“It's alright, miss (y/n). The Rooks have a lot of space for people who love differently and that's why I love this gang. So many people who don't judge and just let us be ourselves... It's nice”

“It is. But until tonight I was convinced I would always have to hide who I am”

“You have nothing to worry about” the lad's friend spoke. “In this gang either are the ones who love differently or we fully support those who do. Even the boss.”

“What do you mean?” you asked

“Jacob is not very discreet. It wasn't hard to figure out that he's into men as well as women. Of course, no one speaks loudly about it, but no one judges as well. You either accept it or leave the Rooks. That's a rule.”

“I'm surprised it's commonly known.”

“It is. Most of us are open about our preferences.”

“Well, I wish now I knew this earlier. I love like this either and I thought it's not something I should ever talk about.”

“We all did” some other guy spoke. “But once you're one of us, you can stop worrying about it.”

“Thanks.” You smiled with relief. After years of living in fear and shame, it felt nice to be in a supportive environment. You felt like you were freed from some shackles, and like you could finally be truly yourself.

A couple of days later, you were sitting in a pub with Jacob once again. But this time, both of you were having a great time, chatting about stuff. You were telling him a really funny story about one of your fights with Blighters, when suddenly you trailed off and forgot the rest of your words. Your attention was caught by a gorgeous woman, who's just entered the pub and you couldn't help but stare at her. Until you realized Jacob was laughing at you.

“I see your new identity suits you well” he joked.

“Oh, shut it. Did you forget how you almost fell off the roof last week, when you noticed a cute girl on the street?” you reminded him.

“And you were laughing so hard that you almost fell off the roof yourself.”

“She wasn't even that pretty.”

“Are you jealous?”

“Me? Jealous? I think you've had too much alcohol.” You shook your head.

“Oh my... wow...” he said and you thought he was teasing you further, but you noticed him looking above you. When you turned around, you saw a guy undressing, as if he was preparing to fight.

“Woah, he's hot” you commented and Jacob nodded.

“Not as hot as the girl you spotted, but indeed, he's quite attractive” he admitted.

“Is this how our relationship is going to look like? Drooling over attractive people and comparing our findings?” you half joked and Jacob shrugged.

“Are you complaining about that?”

“Not at all. Actually, I quite like that. Cheers.”

[a-not-so-clean-blog]

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Fandoms/Characters I will write for

If there's no specified characters, I will write for all characters

Overwatch

Will write for all characters however: Tracer- GN!Reader if romantic; platonic if there's an m!reader Pharah- See above Winston- Platonic only Hammond/Wrecking Ball- Platonic only Orisa- Platonic only

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Surfs Up (2007)

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If there's something you're curious if I'll write for, feel free to ask! I jump from fandom to fandom a lot and I'm willing to write for a lot

Things I will write

FTM/Non-binary!Reader x Character Male/GN!Reader x FTM/Non-binary!Character FTM/Non-binary!Reader x FTM/Non-binary!Character Polyamorous Relationships Fluff Smut Angst? I don't think I'm good at it though :[ Ask me about kinks I'll write about if you're curious :]

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Fem aligned reader SA/Non-Con Scat Pregnancy Yandere Over the top feet stuff Char/Char

Feel free to ask any questions/clarifications of what I will and will not right if you're curious about anything!

I do reserve the right to decline any requests I am not comfortable with. Thank you

[chaoticgeminate]

Year of Video Game AUs Masterlist

Welcome to my series combining my love of video games and my love of Pedro Pascal. This is my contribution for the Year of Themed Creation, I hope that you enjoy what I've planned for you! These won't necessarily follow exact plots, some of these are in-universe only, but the theme of each game is the primary focus. So sit back, get comfy, and enjoy my stories and the accompanying playlist~

To enjoy all of the amazing "Year Of Themed Creations" head on over to @yearofcreation2023 where every piece of work is going to be put nicely on the library shelf or framed and hung up on the walls for everyone to enjoy.

January: Marcus P x f!Reader - The Saltwater Room (Raft) February: Pero x f!Reader - Black Vultures (The Forest) March: Javi G x f!Reader - Cloud Nine (Pokémon)

April: The Thief x f!Reader - Wicked Ways (Tomb Raider/Uncharted) May: Ezra x f!Reader - Iodine (Alice the Madness Returns) June: Marcus M x f!Reader - Break In (Coral Island/Stardew Valley)

July: Din x f!Reader - Warrior (Legend of Zelda) August: Oberyn x f!Reader - In the Shadows (Assassins Creed) September: Dave x f!Reader - Apocalyptic (Fallout)

October: Javi P x f!Reader - Misguided Ghosts (Phasmophobia) November: Joel x f!Reader - Tidal Wave (Zoo Tycoon) December: Frankie x f!Reader - Bright Eyes (Spiritfarer)

[sunnydaleherald]

The Sunnydale Herald Newsletter, Tuesday, March 5

Xander: Buffy, this is all about fear. It's understandable, but you can't let it control you. 'Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to anger.' No wait, hold on. 'Fear leads to hate. Hate leads to the dark side.' Hold on, no, umm, 'First you get the women, then you get the money, then you...' okay, can we forget that? Buffy: Thanks for the Dadaist pep talk, I feel much more abstract now. Xander: The point is, you're Buffy. Buffy: Yeah, maybe in high school I was Buffy. Xander: And now in college you're Betty Louise? Buffy: Yeah, I'm Betty Louise Plotnick of East Cupcake, Illinois. Or I might as well be. Xander: Buffy, I've gone through some fairly dark times in my life, faced some scary things, among them the kitchen at 'The Fabulous Ladies Night Club.' Let me tell you something, when it's dark and I'm all alone and I'm scared or freaked out or whatever, I always think, 'What would Buffy do?' You're my hero. Ok, sometimes when it's dark and I'm all alone I think, 'What is Buffy wearing?' Buffy: Can that be one of those things you never, ever, tell me about?

~~Buffy Episode #57: "The Freshman"~~

[Drabbles & Short Fiction]

A Memory Away (Xander, T, Assassin‛s Creed xover) by madimpossibledreamer

The zeppo rework (Buffy/Faith, E) by Moonkid10

Do You Trust Me Now? (Buffy/Spike, E) by Maxine Eden

[Chaptered Fiction]

A friend from back Home Ch. 1 (Reader/Ensemble, unrated) by WhiteMonsterEnergy

Centrifugal Force Ch. 1/5 (AtS Ensemble, T) by MamaBewear

Dress My Body All in Flowers White CH. 32/45 (Buffy/Spike, M) by othellia

Standing Back Behind Ch. 2 (Ensemble, T) by silvain

Breaking Broken Hearts Ch. 15 (Jenny/OC, T) by Jess_Ann_Perreault

Staying Afloat Ch. 12 (Willow/Oz, Buffy/Gage Petronzi, T) by dwinchester

Glimpses of the Cellar Dweller Ch. 5/31 (Buffy/Spike, G) by Maldorana

Goodbye to Everything That I Knew Ch. 23 (Buffy/Spike, M) by My_Barbaric_Yawp

Divide & Conquer Ch. 59/61 (Buffy/Giles, E) by Removes_and_Cleans_Glasses_00

hit rewind Ch. 38 (Buffy/Spike, M) by untiljanuary

The Reason Why Ch. 1 (Buffy/OC, M) by Xyex

No Going Back Ch. 15 (Willow/Tara, M) by Tru2urheart

Head Over Feet Ch. 7 (Buffy/Spike, G) by L0zerEmz0

The Neighbor's Point of View, Chapter 92 (Buffy/Spike, G) by the_big_bad

Beg, Chapter 8 (Buffy/Spike, E) by Maxine Eden

Dead End, Chapter 5 (Buffy/Spike, T) by all choseny

The Dawnster Drabbles, Chapter 5 (Buffy/Spike, G) by Passion4Spike

Across Ages, Chapter 26 (Buffy/Spike, M) by Isabeau

Conversations in the Dark, Chapter 5 (Buffy/Spike, M) by Tessa

Speed Dates, Chapter 3-4 (Buffy/Spike, M) by Alyot

Glimpses of the Cellar Dweller, Chapter 5 (Buffy/Spike, G) by Maldorana

How Could I Not?, Chapter 5 (Buffy/Spike, M) by simmony

Crossing Over, Chapter 5 (Buffy/Spike, G) by Julikobold

Tag, You're It!, Chapter 5 (Buffy/Spike, G) by VeroNyxK84

X.X, Chapter 5 (Buffy/Spike, M) by Rea

The Guests at the Wedding, Chapter 4 (Buffy/Spike, T) by bookishy

Forever and Always?, Chapter 5 (Buffy/Spike, M) by scratchmeout

The Dreaded Lurgi, Chapter 5 (Buffy/Spike, G) by SomeKindOfADeviant

Devils Roll Their Eyes, Chapter 5 (Buffy/Spike, M) by sunalso

It's A Rom-Com! , Chapter 5 (Buffy/Spike, G) by all choseny

Boyfrenemy, Chapter 5 (Buffy/Spike, E) by Lady Emma

Rise Of The Sineyans Ch. 4 (Buffy, Faith, M) by BlueZeroZeroOne

[Images, Audio & Video]

Artwork:Paperman Buffy, () by TrevorCarlee

[Reviews & Recaps]

PODCAST: BTVS 511 - Triangle by Another Buffy Podcast

[Fandom Discussions]

Why all the hate towards Buffy Anne Summers? by Multiple Authors

So about that whole…”Wesley X Cordy” thing… by Plasma

What's up with SMG? by Holden Norgorov

How old was Faith supposed to be when she first arrived to Sunnydale? by InfiniteMehdiLove

Opinions on Justine Cooper by BlueCammo

Give us some kind of TV show or movie already! by ManoftheHour777

In season 3, was Fred that naive about Wesley having a crush on her? by hthbellhop76

LF specific fanfic by No_Song9934

The idea of Xander as Glory's host. by Capital-Shake-313

Anya question by TrainSpotterMommy

Bangalore Breakup by Sote95

Does anyone else love season six? by Wilting888h

7x02 - Beneath You final scene. by thrasherbuffy

How old were you when you first discovered Buffy & Angel? by Fluffy_Physics_3374

What do you think would happen if Oz had never left, but Willow still ended up meeting Tara? by Capital-Shake-313

Xander lies to Buffy to protect her from Angel's inner beast Angelus by Commercial-Sink8444

James Marsters in Smallville… by bubbabeexo

Just started a rewatch by twig8944

I’m currently watching Angel (mid season 1) and Cordelia changed so much since Buffy. I’m loving her by Wide-Grocery6389

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Join the editor team :)

[daraasum]

Ship thing: Assassin's Creed

otp

the year of our lord 2023 is the year cringe is dead and we love and appreciate canon x OC ships, thus, Jacob Frye x Queenie Lamb 5ever

favourite canon pairing

The only "canon" pairing I'm really familiar with in Assassin's Creed is Bayek x Aya but hot damn those two have such sweet scenes together so i'm ok to say they're my favorite

worst pairing ever

Haytham x Ziio, girlfriend we don't fuck colonizers

guilty pleasure pairing

M!Eivor x Reader/OC/whatever have you, he's got such potential to basically be a classic gruff traumatized romance novel husband and I'm weak for beardy men as always

a pairing you want to see more

MORE JAYADEEP/HENRY X EVIE AND NOT JUST THE CUTE SHIT I WANNA SEE THEM /BANG/

that pairing everyone likes but you’re like “lol no” 

I don't know who started Jacob x Arno and I don't want anyone to explain it to me it just makes me go "...ok then" and scroll past tbh so not super negative about it, just don't get it

favorite non-romantic pair

I don't know if I can count it as non-romantic cause they totally wanted to explore each other's bodies but Leonardo and Ezio are the best most supportive bros

[assassins-and-hidden-blades]

Arrows & Accidents

Request: Can I request an Ezio imagine with a gender neutral or male reader where the reader is or was a student of Ezio's and has gotten themselves injured.

Warnings: Violence, graphic detail of wound/treatment, swearing in Italian, LOTS of Italian lmfao (translations at the end)

Tagging: @marshmallow--3​ / @yourlocalfrenchie​ (I know it’s a male reader but I still tagged you guys jic)

13/06/2020: Lmao I almost killed you guys… oops. Also, this is 2.9K -- I spent all day on this because once I sorted out the plot, everything else was just *chef’s kiss* hope you enjoy!

Requested by @timbreavery​

----------

“You need to hit harder, Y/N.” Ezio reflected your blade effortlessly. 

“I don’t want to hurt you by mistake.”

“Who says you’ll hurt me?” He smirked, twirling his sword with a flair. 

You nodded in affirmation, and began to hail a stronger assault. Although it wasn’t enough to overwhelm Ezio, it was certainly stronger than before.

On a defensive hit, his sword sent yours flying across the training ground. “A better effort, mi amico,” he nodded approvingly. 

“Pfft.” You scoffed, going to pick up your discarded weapon. In the seconds you weren’t looking, an unknown force came into contact with your back, sending you flying to the floor and away from your sword. You laid still when you felt a blade come into contact with the back of your neck. 

“Mario is sending you on a mission which I don’t agree with. Personalmente, you do not have the experience. So you need to be ready, Y/N, or you will get hurt.” 

When he was finished, you grabbed his wrist and forcefully brought the heel of your boot into his back. It allowed you to move the blade away from your neck. With Ezio’s balance compromised, you pushed into him until he hit the ground beside you, your arm pressing against his neck and pinning his arm beside him. 

“I think I’ll be fine, Ezio.” You released him and offered a hand to help him up before readying your retrieved blade. 

“Ora, un altro?”

----------

As the sun began to set, approached the site that overran itself with Templars. Your target was the Captain, who was hiding in the area. Although it was littered in ruins, you knew the general location of him, and you were ready to bring an end to his havoc. There is rarely a proper way to prepare one to end another’s life, and normally you would avoid it at all costs, but when the end of one life could bring freedom to many, it was hard to debate the argument of life for someone so evil. 

Slowly, you weaved your way in between pillars. There were so many ways you could lose the upper hand, and so you kept vigilant when you moved. As you peered around the column, you saw him. He was patrolling with four other guards, and after assessing the situation, you weighed your options: 

You could use a throwing knife on your target and a smoke bomb to distract. 

To be more accurate, you could use a smoke bomb and charge in, hidden blade unsheathed. 

“Assassino!”

Oh, great. 

As guards unsheathed their swords and crossbows, you pointed your gauntlet at your target and let a bullet fly. As soon as the bang erupted in the air, you felt something pierce your abdomen, the force of it sending you backwards to the ground. 

Although your target got hit in the neck, you were equally as compromised in your side.

Before they could get too close, you scrambled to your feet and vaulted over a small wall, keeping your hand pressed against the wound on your waist. You kept obstacles between you and your opponents, knowing that the only way to survive was to escape. As you reached the edge of the ruins, you spotted a horse grazing on some hay. Wasting no time, you mounted the white mare, kicking your heels into her ribs as she took off towards the city. 

You had one hand holding the reins as the other reached for the foreign object embedded in your muscle; it was an arrow. Grasping the shaft, you snapped it in half, wincing as it shifted under your skin. 

As you reached the city, you began to turn harsh corners to stay out of your pursuers’ line of sight. Once you deemed it far enough away, you dismounted and hit your stolen steed on the flank, making sure she fled through the streets. Eyeing a side alley, you slipped between flailing drunkards before turning one last corner, fully out of sight. Moving like you had had caused the arrowhead to move, and in doing so your robes were coloured more with crimson than with its original white. You slid down against the wall clutching your wound, needing to slow the world as it spun around you. The adrenaline was wearing off and the pain was increasing tenfold. Feeling the blood soak your palm, you toyed with the idea of pulling it out to save your flesh from tearing more (or to bring death faster).

You knew you had to get back to Tiber Island, but you were sure that you’d draw too much unwanted attention to yourself if you took the main roads, and would almost certainly collapse without a horse. You rested your head against the bricks, willing an idea to pop into your clouded brain. 

Small thuds beside you caught your attention, and you turned your head to see a group of thieves land next you. One of them, who was probably the one in charge, pulled your hood off your head, taking in your features; pale, sweaty, barely conscious. “It’s Y/N!” He exclaimed. His eyes turned to the others. “Riccardo, get Ezio. Tell him that we’re bringing him to La Volpe Addormentata. Sbrigatevi!” One of the leanest nodded his head and took off running down the alleys. “Ora,” he spoke softer now. “Aiutami con lui.” 

Two of them grabbed your arms and lifted you to your unsteady feet. The movement stretched your side. “Agh!” Your legs buckled, and your sudden dead weight pulled everyone to their knees. 

“Mio Dio,” the leader uttered. “You! Get a horse!” You heard as feet thundered against cobblestones. “Y/N, you must move.” You looked at him in anguish; he seemed twice your age, and had a fatherly look of trust in his eye. 

“Non posso…” The crimson had spread from your waist and was not being absorbed by the fabric anymore, dripping onto the ground. 

“Yes, you can; just to the main street.” You could vaguely hear horses in front of you at the end of the alley. 

You took a deep breath, calming yourself, before you nodded weakly, head hanging low. Step by step, you were half dragged to the mouth of the alleyway. Someone was already mounted on the horse as you were being hoisted in the saddle. It was a mercenary, much bigger than you, and you held on tight to the saddle with one hand as you were sent off galloping down the street, a small entourage following you. With every bump in the saddle, an ache pounded in your head; you were having trouble keeping awake, but the harsh movements wouldn’t let you go under. 

You weren’t very aware of your surroundings when the horse came to a stop. Sitting firm, you waited for the mercenary behind you to dismount, and you attempted to follow suit. Tripping in the stirrups, the impact of the floor sent your mind reeling, your foot getting trapped in the metal. Pain radiated through your body as you fell on the protruding arrow shaft. Groaning, you weakly pushed yourself up to your hands and knees, dazed and confused. “Andiamo, ragazzo.” Multiple hands heaved you off of the dirt ridden paths, hauling you up the stairs and into the Thieves’ Headquarters.

“La Volpe!” The hooded man revealed himself by the entrance. 

His eyes assessed the situation in a second. “Bring him into the back.” People parted quickly to make space for you all to make it through. “Put him on the table.” You were turned to sit down, before slowly being lowered to lie against the wood. 

Finally being out of the streets and safe in your surroundings, you allowed yourself to relax, to close your eyes, to maybe spend a few moments asleep… 

“Y/N.” Someone patting your cheek got your eyes to reluctantly open. “Leonardo and Ezio are here.” 

Leonardo?

You swallowed thickly, not having the energy to respond other than letting your head roll to the side. As they came in, you could half-make out what they were saying. “Those doctors… will be of no use to us… I know my way around a wound.” It was Leonardo, rambling on as he was gathering the relevant supplies. 

You blinked, and Ezio towered above you. “Ah, amico mio, mi dispiace tanto.” 

Before you could respond, a hand twisted the embedded arrow shaft. You threw your head back as you cried out, hands flying to the culprit’s hand. 

“Leonardo!” Ezio chastised. 

“I needed to know if it was stuck in the bone!” He quickly justified his actions, hands raising in surrender. “Take his armour off.” 

Quickly, your upper robes were discarded, leaving your chest bare and your injury exposed. You heard the movement of metal tools before you felt something cold touch your skin. Looking down, you saw a small blade that touched the edge of the arrow wound. You grasped Leonardo’s wrist. “No, please…” Pain was hitting every nerve and muscle, and you desperately wished you were unconscious, but the fact that you weren’t meant you were going to feel everything, and at this point, you wanted to feel nothing.

Leonardo looked at Ezio and La Volpe. “Hold him down.” 

Ezio grasped your hand with one of his before using his other one to put weight on your elbow, effectively pinning you to the table. La Volpe followed suit. “I don’t like this, Leonardo,” Ezio said, looking nervous.

The artist looked up seriously. “You don’t have to.”

You felt the blade sink into your skin. The lower half of your body was numb, but your back tried to arch at the intrusion; an attempt to get away. You were hyper aware of his fingers moving inside your flesh, poking at the metal inside you. “This type of arrow does not do too much damage, but it has hooked onto an organ.” Although Leonardo’s voice was calm, you couldn’t help but writhe. You could feel everything the arrow (and Leonardo) touched, finally managing to begin drifting in and out of consciousness, after what felt like hours of pain.

You were too tired. 

You heard Leonardo bracing you for removing the arrow, but you were completely limp in Ezio and La Volpe’s grasp. You swallowed again, eyes rolling back. Your face scrunched weakly as you winced; the arrow finally relinquishing its position, too tired to scream and shout. Stifling a groan, you slightly jumped when the pressure of a fabric was being applied in place of Leonardo’s fingers. The last thing you heard before your vision blacked out was, “We’re not done yet.”

----------

There were three instances where you briefly came to since then. The first was as your wound was being bandaged. “What are his chances?” Ezio’s voice echoed in your ear.

“Of survival?” Your eyes barely opened for a second to lock with Leonardo’s. “Small.” Although his face was comforting, his words weren’t. All too quickly, you lost consciousness again. 

The second time, you could feel your body moving as you were taken off the table and onto something soft but sturdy. Your head rolled to the side and your eyes opened to see Leonardo washing his hands in a basin. “Con attenzione, ora!” You felt your arm fall off the side of the platform you were being moved on. The rocking lulled you back into darkness.

You didn’t remember these instances.

The third and final time you came to, you had a hard time opening your eyes. It felt as if they had been sealed shut. An involuntary hum grew in your throat as you brought your arm up to rub your eyes. Even that simple movement left you aching for reasons you couldn’t remember yet. You brought your hand away as you opened your eyes. Looking around, your brows furrowed.

This wasn’t your bed, or your room… 

Pushing yourself up, you stopped abruptly, lowering yourself back down and wincing as a searing pain spread across your side. Your hand immediately went to the source, where your fingers ran across rough fabric. Looking down, you saw that your chest was still bare, although half of your torso was covered in white bandages. Looking around, you found your robes hanging up against a wardrobe across the room, clean and repaired. Your boots were at the foot of the bed. 

Trying again, you slowly sat up again, pulling the sheet off of your legs. You bent down agonisingly slowly, one arm against your side while the other grabbed your footwear. After you pulled them both on, you began lacing them up. It was at that point when the door opened. 

Looking up, you saw Ezio staring at you, surprised. “Y/N, what are you doing?” 

“I’m getting up.”

“You should be resting.”

“I’ve rested enough. How many days has it been?”

Ezio didn’t reply at first.

“Ezio; how many days?”

“Five.”

“That’s more than enough.” 

You pushed yourself up to your feet, only for your knees to buckle and send you back down to the floor, the impact of which reverberated up to your side. You grasped the bedpost for support as your breath hitched. Footsteps approached your kneeling form, but you held your hand up to stop them. “I’m fine,” you spoke through gritted teeth. Hauling yourself back up again, you leaned heavily against the wall, your legs not used to walking after five days of disuse. 

“You don’t have to pretend.” Ezio respected your need for space for a few moments, but soon moved to pull your arm over his shoulders when he saw you begin to struggle. 

“... Can you take me downstairs, at least?”

He sighed, thinking out the pros and cons. “Fine. Come.” 

Tentatively, you tiptoed down the stairs, careful not to make any jarring movements. Ezio held you securely to prevent you from falling, should you do so again. The sounds of people eating, drinking, and enjoying themselves filled your ears, and your eyes landed on a table with La Volpe -- standing up with one knee propped up against the bench -- Leonardo, and a few other thieves (all sitting properly). They seemed to be in deep conversation, but as La Volpe looked up and moved his attention to you, everyone else followed his gaze, smiles poking at their lips.

“Y/N! You’re awake, and… moving.” Leonardo shot Ezio a disapproving look. 

“I asked him to take me here.” You motioned to sit down at the table, and Ezio helped to lower you to the bench. Steadying yourself against the table, you brought a hand up to your side as your wound twinged. 

“You’re just in time for me to change your dressings.” Leonardo got up to fetch new bandages as Ezio took his place beside you. 

La Volpe sat down properly. “Y/N, what happened?”

You recounted the story in detail as Leonardo worked on your side, slightly embarrassed at your inability to stay alert that night. “It was my mistake,” you finished, wincing as the bandages were pulled tight. “I should have stayed out of sight.” 

“He shouldn’t have even been there,” Ezio quipped, closing one hand over a fist. “We almost lost one of our best students.”

You smirked. “I’m flattered.” 

Leonardo coughed to hide his chuckle, sitting on the other side of you. “Here.” He passed you a loose shirt and a drink; you thanked him and slowly dressed, being careful not to stretch your side. Taking a sip turned into gulping down mouthfuls of the liquid, parched from not drinking for days.

“If he was one of your best students, then why did we almost lose him?” La Volpe was blunt, but he wasn’t wrong.

“Because that mission was not supposed to be for him!” 

“Remember who assigned him that mission, Ezio. Your anger is misplaced.” Ezio looked between the faces at the table, huffed, and got up, heading for the backroom. 

The atmosphere grew tense, and you decided to break the uncomfortable silence. “I’ll, uh, go and talk to him.” You got up slowly, holding your side, and followed where Ezio disappeared to. 

You peered around the corner to see him leaning on the table, his knuckles pressing into the bloodstained wood. After a few moments of standing still, he cursed himself under his breath, punching the table beneath his hand. He walked to the other side of the table, folding his arms and leaning against it as he fell deep into thought. 

You decided to knock against the wall, then. Ezio turned his head to see who it was, before smiling softly and staring back at the wall. You went to lean on the table beside him, staring at the chalkboard propped up against the barrels. “You’re blaming yourself, Ezio.” You called him out on it before he could say anything, prompting an amused scoff on his part. 

“I should have pulled you out of the contract.”

You looked at him, but he still stared at the wall, seemingly too ashamed to look at you. “Why? You didn’t know what was going to happen.”

“I knew it would challenge you, but I underestimated just how dangerous it would be.”

“You know Mario wouldn’t have accepted that.”

He sighed through his nose, eyes flicking down to his boots. “I should have tried.” 

“Look at me, Ezio.” His eyes moved to yours, but his head barely shifted. “I’m alive; I’m alright.”

“We’ll see.”

You squinted. “What do you mean?”

“Leonardo told me you have a bad case of idiozia, and he is not sure if it can be cured.”

You laughed, looking away. “No, me either.”

“I know something which could help, though.”

You raised an eyebrow, waiting to see what he would say before a force came into contact with the back of your head. “Ow! Bastardo…” Ezio laughed. 

“Let’s rejoin the others.”

----------

Translations:

Mi amico = My friend

Personalmente = Personally

Ora, un altro? = Now, another?

Assassino! = Assassin!

La Volpe Addormentata = The Sleeping Fox

Sbrigatevi! = Hurry up!

Ora, aiutami con lui = Help me with him

Mio Dio = My God

Non posso = I can’t

Andiamo, ragazzo = Come, boy

Amico mio, mi dispiace tanto = My friend, I am so sorry

Con attenzione, ora = Carefully now!

Idiozia = Idiocy

Bastardo = Bastard

[erzsebetrosztoczy]

Nonyo's second part. The horny part. First part here

I hope i could match your level of horny, please enjoy!😊💕

Pairing: M! Eivor x reader

Summary: You and your brother have been betrayed by one of your trusted man.  You call upon your newly found allies - The Raven Clan, to defet the coming army. After the battle, your people celebrate the night with a feast, inviting the vikings as well to stay the night. And they does so, but Eivor has other ideas of that staying.

Words: 4000~

Warning: SMUTTT BABEEYYY 

𝙰𝙾𝟹

The mouthwatering smell that came from the boar that had been caught not long after your victory, made your stomach growl. The mighty beast was determined to make his escape, but it could not stand a chance against the arrows and spears. And now, it made quite the sight, slowly swirling on the pole, above the fire, that had been lit on the courtyard.

The people, now finally free from the threats and worries, were singing loudly to the ink blue sky, its silky quilt covering the land of Mercia. Some were dancing, stepping and jumping with loud cries and hurras, pulling in more and more, as folks tried to slip beside their delight.

You were sent back, inside the halls to hear out every tribute to the brave defenders, every speech of your brother. While you did not oppose such activities, the battle took out the majority of your power, your ability to concentrate on things, for more than just a few moments.

Taking your goblet from the table again, you sipped a few more times, watching the people happy and content — eyes beaming, smiling brightly at anyone who passed by them. It was truly a memorable evening, you barely saw your people at ease this much.

Aedemund finished a bite, and sanding up, he raised his cup into the air, waiting a few minutes for the crowd to quiet down.

When most- if not all eyes were drawn to him, he cleared his throat.

“Today we lost many. Friends, fathers, sons and husbands. But their sacrifice wasn’t for empty words or half true promises. We won.” Aedemund spoke, his voice strong and victorious. “Our lands stay in the hands of the people of Mercia. Our children, our blood will be free from the tyranny of Essex, our nation will survive through illness and flames, through evil and vileness. Our lands belong to the people of the great Mercia!” He shouted to the crowd, to which they cheered, slamming the table, clapping and whistling; they cheered — horns clanking together, giving the other’s shoulder strong pats.

As the cheering toned down, and the people sat back to their tables, beers and food in hands, happily chatting with the person beside them, whoever it may be, you looked around - eyes sparkling with joy and proudness to your people, their hard work and bravery paid off well this day. Watching over the tables, soon a figure caught your attention.

Standing aside the revelry, in the damp corner, Eivor pushed back his shoulders to the wall, legs stretched forward and crossed, arms resting over his chest. He was facing straight to your table, watching your brother, who did not pay any attention; he was busy telling stories of his fights and hunts to Sigurd Jarl. So what did Eivor watch, so keen? Or who did he observe over there, hidden in the shadows...?

It came as a lightning bolt to you, a shiver ran through your spine — cold and fresh, like river water. Cheeks heating up, you quickly find your place unpleasant — in the center of many watching eyes, when you only wanted one, piercing blue pair of eyes to look at you at this moment.

~~~

You took another sip of the crimson wine, then, with an apologetic look you stood up to make your way out of the hall. Your brother catches the movement; turning to you he shoots a curious look towards you.

"Is everything alright?" He asks, placing a hand to your arm. You smile softly at him, patting his hand.

"I'm alright, brother. Just wishing to retreat to my room for the rest of the night. I’ve had enough of the adventures for today." You yawned.

He patted your arm reassuringly, then turned back to Sigurd, picking up the chat just where he felt it. Good, good - you thought - no one needs to miss you, when you'll sneak away.

When you pulled out your chair, making your way out beside the table, a thought suddenly came to your mind:

What if you just imagined it all to yourself? If he didn’t really want to show or say or suggest anything, if you were just misinterpreting things from the wine and the intoxication of the fight- still boiling in your veins?

You glimpsed up from under your lashes, as your doubts started to slowly fade away— you saw Eivor slowly moving from the column. In the direction you were going.

Your heart started beating wild, like the drums just outside the halls, as if it was your heart, not the instruments that echoed through the walls.

You did not understand quite well what has gotten into you; what made you swoon for this stranger, with whom you have only exchanged a few words so far, but blood rushed in your heart and ears, curious for the man.

As you walked to the great door, that now stood wide-open, you allowed yourself a quick glance to the side. He was there, half turned to one table, picking up a horn to raise a toast with the others, but his eyes flashed at you.

You understood. He's curious as well.

A new power arisen within you — something wild and burning, carefree for what will come, what will you face.

Your steps quickened — dodging shoulders and backs from clashing into you, paying no attention to cheerful words, meant for you.

When you reached the hallway a light breeze hit your face, now the air blew colder, fresher than inside the stuffed hall, smoke, sweat and alcohol mixing together into a heavy brew.

You took a deep breath, allowing your nostrils and lungs to get full with the cold night's scent. You did not turn this time, only listened to the sounds coming from behind.

The booming of many voices; the faint music, iron cup clanking, wood creaking. The soft sound from a pair of boots— heading towards you.

You smiled, then without turning, you continued your way down the hallway. He was right behind you, you knew it, you heard it, you felt it.

Once you were only one turning from your chambers you stopped, turning to face him.

He walked up to you, so quiet, movements smooth and flowing; like a stalking cat.

"I was hoping we could talk more after the battle." He said, drawing out the words slowly.

"I looked for you." You inform him, tilting your head to the side. "For some time, before the fest started. But you were nowhere to be found."

Eivor chuckled, looking down at his feet; with a smirk he brought back his gaze upon you, mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Now I'm here, My lady." Stretching out his arms to the side he stepped closer.

"Indeed, you are." You agreed with a half-smile ghosting on your lips.

"Now, we can talk." With one more step he stood before you, hovering over you like a mountain. Bringing up one hand he caressed your cheek, so gentle — his knuckle, barely brushing over your hot skin.

Your eyes fell shut as you tilted your head, following the movement of his fingers.

You could smell him — iron, smoke, and musk sat on his skin; you could feel his body heat, so warm and calming around you.

His pelts pressed against your chest as he leaned down — beard tickling your cheeks, you jerked at the thought of his lips on yours.

"May I?" He whispered — his nose brushing over your, just the slightest, like a spring whiff.

You opened your mouth, words stuck in the throat, you couldn't even make a sound — Eivor was overwhelming, mesmerizing. His boldness and confidence left you speechless, sheepish even.

This man is not like the ones you have ever met before — Eivor held some kind of mystery, which you were determined to solve and explore.

After a seemingly endless moment, your body decided to move without command — taking a hold from your mind, only to give it to your heart.

Closing the brief distance between your lips you let out a shaky breath.

His lips were soft — a pleasant surprise, for you thought his roughness not only was shown by his appearance but through his whole persona. His other hand came up to rest it on your cheeks, now both sides sheltered by his warm palms, thumb stroking gently your jawline.

It did not take long, until he started to deepen the kiss; fingers gently opening your mouth, he dragged his lips over your bottom lip.

A quiet moan escaped your throat — hands pushing up, grabbing him by his wrist, the other sneaked behind his nape to pull him closer.

You felt him move, legs starting to push forwards, making you step back — more and more, until your back finally hit the cold stone walls of the aisle.

As he seized your body between the cool stones and his warmth, his kiss became more heated. Pushing your head back to the wall, his tongue slips between your lips; one hand sliding down to squeeze the soft flesh of your hips.

As your answer, fingers dug into his hair; nails scratching skin with the slightest of pressure. You licked his upper lip before lashing down onto his bottom, teeth dragging on it.

Eivor grunted, tensing up against your body, pressing a knee between your thighs. Hands moving up to your side, fingertips mapping out your form, then moving down back to your hips, and beneath that point, sliding to your thigh. You gasped, as he quickly grabbed under your knee, lifting your leg up to his hips.

"Not here." A ragged whisper came from you, pushing Eivor's chest away from yours, but your lips chased after his, nibbling on his lips. "My room..." You breathed, unable to finish your sentence, when he moved back, lips lashing down.

"Where?" He huffed after a moment, letting go of your lips with a pop.

Instead of answering you slid out from his hold, a quick look to the end of the hallway. Grabbing his hands you turned and started your way to your chambers; almost running.

One last turn, and your eyes caught the heavy wooden door of your bedchamber. Guiding Eivor there, you pushed your back against the doors.

Eivor stepped closer, taking no time for you to open it, kissing you again; he managed to push back the grand door with one hand, the other securing your middle.

Stepping inside, he pushed you around, putting your back against the door again, as he closed it.

Hands moving above your head he leaned down, giving a soft kiss, before his lips grazed lower, brushing along your skin as he moved to your neck.

"Eivor..." You whined, when his lips sucked in the sensitive skin. He hummed, smoothing the reddened spot with pampering kisses. You moved your hands to his chest, after you marveled around his side and stomach your fingers hooked on the pin of his pelt.

With a smooth move, you took out the pin, heavy fur dropping to the ground, leaving his broad shoulders uncovered.

"Eivor." You called out once more, firmly tugging on his coat. "Off with it." Came the order, — a smirk playing on the corner of your lips.

He paused his kisses, tilting his head back, so he can lock eyes with you.

For a moment he looked stunned, lips pink and swollen, chest heaving as he straightened his form.

As you hold your gaze, Eivor's shocked impression melted into a smirk, eyelids low, a dark and hungry glint appeared in his eyes.

"As My Lady commands." He bowed, unbuttoning his leathers, pushing down his clothes to the ground, while his burning stare never left your form.

Battle-torn skin, hardened from the fights and practice, his muscles moving smoothly under the skin. A good amount of dark blond hair planted his chest, an equally pleasant happy tail leading down.

Biting in your bottom lip, you placed your palm on his stomach, fingertips brushing over hard muscles and hair, until your hand found the rim of his breeches.

Heat spreader over your body, fogging your mind -- heart racing, blood boiling, your chest heaved with lust. It was enough of this play, but you will not beg for him.

Slowly moving further down your hand, you cupped his chin with your free one, guiding back his lips to yours.

Planting a kiss to his lips, then to the edge of his mouth, you followed the scare on the left, his mustache tickling your nose. Moving along his neck, you licked on a vein, until you reached the base of his neck, where his shoulder started.

Teeth ghosting over the skin, grazing it— when your hand finally found his bulge. You ran your hand over his hardening member, biting his neck gently, earning a loud grunt that rambled through Eivor's chest.

He grabbed you by the waist, turning you away from the door, guiding you backwards, until the back of your knees hit the bed frame. You stumbled back, sitting down to the edge. Eivor stood above you; his frame swallowing your whole body, as you looked up at him — your gaze lost under lashes, and blush.

"After you, My Lady." He breathed, slowly kneeling down before you. His hands fell to your knees, drawing small circles into your skin, but he did not spend much time there. Skimming down the side of your legs he reached for the hem of your skirt.

Looking up at you again — gaze filled with adoration and lust, you felt he's already undressing you, only with his eyes. He didn't move any further — fingers grasping the fabric, fidgeting with it.

You gather your skirt around your hips, pulling it upwards; chill running up your legs when the cold air hits the skin. Hands shaking, breath quickening as Eivor helps you take off your dress, putting it over the end of the bed frame.

For a moment you push your knees up, covering your breasts, embarrassment taking over the heat inside of you.

But it did not last long, until the man took your hand gently — he planted a soft kiss over your column.

"Say, when I need to stop, My Lady." He murmurs into your skin, dropping his head to your sternum, tongue gently licking a spot there.

"Don't stop now." You swallowed, leaning back; bracing yourself on your hands. Responding, Eivor moved down to your chest, planting small kisses to the soft flesh of your breast, while his hand cupped the other; taking the nipple between his thumb and index fingers.

Lips nudging the bud, he licked his tongue over the sensitive spot, before he sucked in, hard.

A moan ripped through your throat; back arching up to the touch, as he started sucking over it, fingers toying with the other. Heat lit up in your stomach; swirling, with the motion of his tongue.

Eivor flicked his tongue over your nubble, then drew back, leaving a trail of saliva as he switched to the other, to give it equal attention.

Gasping, you brushed through his unruly hair — soft to your touch, as you grasped a handful on the back of his head.

When Eivor decided, he took good care of your breasts, he released your hardened nipples, continuing his way of kisses to your stomach.

Goosphumps waved over you when he reached your hips, planting a full mouthed kiss to each side. He looked up at you again, eyes burning with desire, as he palmed your tights.

You relaxed your tense muscles, letting your legs open further, letting him scoot closer to you.

Positioning his body between your legs, Eivor stroked your legs up and down, planting wet kisses to your inner thigh. He nipped on the soft skin hard, with a hand moving to your slit to skim over it.

You inhaled sharply, knees jerking as he started drawing small circles across your clint. You pant his name, voice broken, busy with catching a breath, as he continued slowly, the heat vibrating in your veins. You feel your core getting more damp; one finger settled on your nub, the other two dragging over your clint as he eased one finger in.

It all started to be too much — his never leaving gaze, kisses pampering your skin, thick fingers playing with you. Heat rose from your core, spreading through your stomach, making a knot, tighter and tighter, your face burning.

"Beautiful." Eivor mumbles into your skin. "So perfect."

Slowly he started pushing his finger in and out, curling his fingertip upwards with every thrust and drag.

The knot tightened in your belly, almost like flames swallowing you, when suddenly all of it disappeared.

You tensed up, arching your back, searching for that snap that never came; you looked up at Eivor.

The man pulled out his fingers, coming to caress your hips with gentle touches as he was about to stand up.

"Why did you...?" You requested, head dazed, voice wobbly.

Climbing up to your face, Eivor hushed you with a kiss, brushing out a damp strain from your forehead.

"Lay down." He instructed you, pulling your hips towards the center of the bed. You pushed yourself up, arms trembling, skin sweaty, but he helped you scoot over. When you placed yourself comfortably, he climbed out of bed, quickly unlacing his breeches.

You watched as he did so, eyes marveling over his frame, broad and tall, his muscles outlined under the skin.

Eivor tossed down his clothes, revealing his hardened member as he crawled back to you.

Moving between your legs he sat back on his knees, taking a quick study of your body.

You did the same, eyes scanning over his form — wide shoulders, strong arms, thick legs. Cock pressed to his lower belly, throbbing with need.

You lick your lips — unaware of the motion, but Eivor noticed it.

A smirk came up on his lips, eyes darkening, as he leaned down, arms seizing your form.

"Like what you see?" He teases, beard grazing over your lips as he said the words. You did not answer, just brought up your hands to his arms to touch his skin.

It was warm and somewhat familiar — hair brushing over your fingertips as you slid your palm up and down on his arm, gently, almost attentively.

His mouth opened, but nothing came out, just as how you did not long ago, when he touched you.

Carefully slipping one arm from your hold, he leaned above your head, giving you a close look at his chest and pecs.

When he moved back he shifted off of you, sitting back again, with a pillow in hand.

"Raise your hips up." He ordered, palm sliding down to your bottom, squeezing it as he helped you move. Placing the soft material beneath you, he fondled your hips — rough palms; calloused from wielding swords for many years now caressed your smooth skin, while he inched himself closer.

Your head lolled back when you felt his length glide between your wet lips, teasingly nudging your entrance.

"Anything hurts, you’re telling me." Eivor rasped. Kneeling above you, his towering form filled your vision, as his chin lowered, looking at you — eyes half lidded.

You bit in your bottom lip, blinking up at him; holding back your breath as he took his length, lining the head up to your heat.

After a moment, when he was sure he didn't see any discomfort on your face, Eivor rolled his hips into yours, driving out a breathy moan from you. He stilled himself, sucking in the air, his hands tightening on your hips.

You knew he didn't want to hurt you, make anything uncomfortable for you, but this unhurriedness was driving you insane.

You grabbed his wrists at your side, squeezing, nails slightly scratching the skin; urging him to move.

"Go ahead." You swallowed a whine, feeling him twitch inside you. Eivor noded, obediently dragging out slowly until the head, then with one smooth motion he drove in again, now with more confidence and force.

You whined as you felt his cock moving further, feeling the veins as his size stretched you, pain mixing up with the pleasure feeling.

Eivor cursed, hissing when you propped up your already high placed legs around his waist; forcing him to shove into you. Your moan rang through the room, short pants filling the space afterwards as he started to pace up.

His thrusts became faster, pounding into you with hazy eyes glued to you, watching every move your face made, breasts bouncing along with the thrusts. He groaned, breathless; hands scratching up to your legs, his fingers gripping your skin as he pulled them higher to his torso.

You felt your lower back rise from the pillow beneath you to the air, as Eivor pushed himself closer to you.

"Eivor..." A ragged mew. Eyes shut; you threw your head back as he hit something delicious with the new angle.

The room filled with the abstract sounds of your pants; the damp noise, of skin slapping against skin, his groans and grunts — becoming more breathless.

You arched your back, arms shooting up to your side, to hold your body up with your elbows.

His cock slammed in and out of you, rubbing your walls and hitting a sweet spot, you felt yourself falling apart. The heat burnt white in your body, the pleasure waving through your muscles with every thrust and drag, his wide hands roaming your legs, your hips, your stomach and side, palming at your breasts from time to time — it was intoxicating.

A fog creeped upon your mind, dazing you; as the knot grew tighter and tighter with every moment.

With your last sober movement you pushed yourself up, legs finding leverage next to Eivor's thighs as you melted into his lap. Arms lashing around his shoulders, you lunged forward, lips lacing onto his, moaning into his mouth as you bucked your hips into his.

Your heart hammered - you were sure even Eivor could feel it under your skin, when a strong snap rushed through you.

Jolting, you arched your back, dropping your head over, your walls clenched around him, squeezing his throbbing cock.

Eivor choked, his grip biting into your skin as he slammed into your heat a few more times; then he stilled inside, jerking — his seed spilling to your heat, hot.

Dropping his head to your shoulder, panting, sweat sticking to your skins. You felt him tremble, his legs slowly giving in under the weight of your fused bodies. After a few moments, catching your breath, you loosened your grip on his neck, shaking you slowly slid down from him.

Eivor shifted his legs, leaning with you down, one hand securely planted beside you, as he helped you lay down to the bed.

You threw the pillow down to the floor, as Eivor situated himself on you, gently hovering over your form, careful not to crush you.

His trembling has not passed yet, as he rested his forehead on yours. His mane --now tousled and sweaty — hanging down both sides, tickling your ears. You lifted up one arm, tugging his golden lock between his ears and neck, then your hands came to rest on his cheeks.

"Rest now." You chide softly, smiling into his skin. "After a battle, and this you'll need at least a whole day of sleep."

Chuckling he smiles brightly, planting a soft kiss to your lips.

"My Lady is right." He groans, rolling to your side, immediately drawing a hand over your stomach. "Maybe I'll need two days, catching my breath."

You hummed pleased, as you cradled his cheeks.

"You can stay here as long as you please." You mumbled into his lips, heart swelling with fondness.

"It would be an honor, My Lady." Eivor smiles, plating a kiss to the tip of your nose. "I might live with the offer."

[tangsprite12]

Bro don’t get me wrong F!Eivor is shmexy af like and like damn all but M!Eivor for some reason just hits different, himbo man where is the fan fics of this gorgeous man fluff smut don’t care he don’t get enough love 😑🥺🙌🏼

[perawuat]

My contribution for Pocky Day (albeit late skskskksks)

Felix can't wait to participate, this bastard loves these games and he's so down for them Wolfgang is frankly a hesitant no. His first reaction in his mind would be a friendly Victorian and aristocrat "whatta fuck is this shit?!". But if you can convince it, good for you! It really is an unprecedented teaser. Solomon, on the other hand, wouldn't even waste time listening to the rules, the only thing his gentleman archaeologist brain hears is "kiss" and so he does LMAO