#heimdall x female reader

[spockiguess]

A Whole Lot Of Something, I’ll Tell You What || Heimdall x Female Reader

Dedicated to Ash

A/N: So...I wrote a Heimdall fic, heehee! This one is LOOOOOOONG, like fuck me, brother. I’ve been hunched over my ‘puter for the past couple of days yanking this one out of my ass (like I do with all my other fics) and it’s finally done! Yippee! My friend, Ash, was with me the entire way, cheerleading me to finish (thank you for that, by the way). So, I hope y’all enjoy it! Leave comments and suggestions below, they’re highly appreciated!

Warnings: Smut, use of terms like cunt and pussy, jealousy, Heimdall being a cocky shit

Pairing: Heimdall/Female Reader

Night fell upon the realm of Asgard, hushing voices and lulling the land’s children to sleep as the moon rose in the sky, its milky light shining through your window, illuminating your naked form. Your skin was alight as if orange embers were dancing just beneath the surface, and your breath came in quick gasps and silent moans. It took everything in you to keep silent when your hand worked diligently at your sopping cunt. 

Lusty visions flooded your mind, absolutely consumed your heart and soul, and you couldn’t keep yourself from moaning his name. With a whine, you called him out as you rubbed your clit, imagining it was his hand instead of yours. You wondered how full his fingers could make you feel, pressing against the spongy spot inside of you until you came all over his palm. 

Warmth washed against your face at these thoughts, but you couldn’t feel shame for it. You were too lost in your own pleasure to even notice how loud you were getting. Surely you’d wake someone up. 

Still, you cried out his name, unknowingly beckoning the very man you thought of, “Heimdall! Please!” you cried. 

Your voice drifted down the hall, and soon feather-light steps fell in quick succession just outside of your door, “This better be good,” then came to a screeching halt. Heimdall stood like a deer caught when he heard another one of your moans. Before, Heimdall assumed you were hurt, whining like a lost child for his help, but no, now he knew exactly what you were up to. 

“Oh, you dirty little minx,” Heimdall was as hot-blooded as any healthy mortal man and couldn’t stop the pang of arousal from shooting down his spine when he crept closer to your door. Heimdall also couldn’t prevent his hand from reaching around the door handle and pushing just enough to let a sliver of light leak from your room. 

Your cries rang true in Heimdall’s head, fluffing his already enormous ego to preposterous amounts as he chuckled under his breath. There you were, just mere meters away, begging for him like a wanton whore.

With rapt, violet eyes, Heimdall watched as your legs spread even wider, shaking from the rough stimulation your hand was providing. What truly caught his attention, though, was your dripping cunt glinting underneath the moonlight. Heimdall’s cock strained in his trousers, and he could barely restrain himself from palming it.

Deciding to indulge himself further, Heimdall looked into your mind and saw a truly erotic sight. It was you on all fours; head pushed into the pillow as Heimdall took you from behind at a monstrous pace. You were practically screaming his name, begging to cum as tears fell from your eyes. It was delicious. 

Whispering to himself, Heimdall stated haughtily, “Don’t worry, my little minx. I’m here,” before moving to open the door fully.

Suddenly, Heimdall was thrust back into reality when he felt the hard grip of the All-Father’s hand on his arm, stopping him from even opening the door another inch. Whipping around, Heimdall stared into a singular, disgruntled eye before being harshly yanked away. 

“What are you doing? Why are you stalking around like some peeper?” Odin hissed. Odin was the only person who could cause Heimdall to falter, and the blond stuttered, tripping over himself. 

“I was just– they were–” Odin dropped Heimdall’s arm and walked, already knowing Heimdall would follow and mocked him the entire way.

“Ah– ah– ah– what? You some sort of creep now? Sjá hvat, first a drunken oaf for a son, then…nevermind, you’ve got work to do.” Odin plopped in his seat with a certain finality that told Heimdall he was in for a long mission.

Days had passed since Odin dragged an unwilling Heimdall into his study, and Heimdall returned to the grassy pastures of Asgard covered in blood that wasn’t his and seriously craving release. His bones ached, and his head throbbed, leaving Heimdall exponentially more annoyed than usual. 

Einherjar and Valkyries alike watched the ravenous Heimdall stalk towards the Great Lodge, set on his path. The only thing on Heimdall’s mind was you. He knew that you’d be willing to give yourself over the instant he asked, and this knowledge fueled his trek as the gravel pathway crunched underneath his thundering feet.  

Nearing the entrance, Heimdall swung the heavy oak doors open with ease, cock already springing to life with the memories of your needy whines calling for him. He could almost hear them now. 

Turning a corner, Heimdall saw Thor’s massive body blocking his view of your door, and anger flared through his being at an interstellar speed. Why, in all the Nine Realms, would his ape brother be standing in front of your room? 

As he approached, Heimdall could hear Thor’s laughter mixed with yours, a familiar sound to him– a sound he reckoned was only his to hear. This only stoked the fires of rage burning deep within Heimdall’s stomach. 

Speaking before thinking, Heimdall shoved Thor’s back roughly, “What’s so funny, you stupid lug?”

Slowly, Thor turned around and began to invade Heimdall’s personal space, but that didn’t matter to the mind-reading Aesir god. No, what mattered was you standing behind the beast of a man, still laughing light-heartedly. 

“Oh, c’mon, he wasn’t doing anything!” You protested as the laughter rapidly began to die down. 

Heimdall didn’t respond, though, simply locking his gaze with yours. Sparingly, did Heimdall give you this look. You were in trouble. 

Swallowing, your voice was small when you spoke, “Nevermind, Thor. I think it’s best if you go.” Heimdall grinned menacingly, such an obedient dog, you were, he thought. 

Not even sparing a glance at Thor, Heimdall started, “Yes, big brother. I believe it would be the best for everyone if you took your putrid stench elsewhere.” Heimdall clapped a patronizing hand on the god of thunder’s back, causing him to cast a worried glance your way.

You nodded at Thor, urging him to leave. You had only faced Heimdall’s wrath a select handful of times and were taking your best measures to do damage control. After a second of hesitation, Thor huffed before stomping off. 

It wasn’t long before Heimdall reached out and grabbed your hand, less-than-gracefully pulling you into your humble room and slamming the door behind you. Like a purple-eyed leopard, Heimdall advanced on you before your back hit your desk. You squeaked in surprise, the whole situation only fueling your intense desire for Odin’s right-hand man. 

Heimdall’s hands came to rest on either side of your waist, his fingers digging into the polished wood of the desk. Being in such close proximity to the god, you could smell the lingering scent of bloodshed on his skin, mixed with his usual leathery sandalwood musk. It made your head spin, and it took everything in you to focus on what was at hand. 

“So, dearest, were you having fun with my brother?” Heimdall sneered. Normally, Heimdall didn’t stoop to such petty depths like jealousy, but it was hard to ignore the feeling twisting in his gut, considering you were screaming his name just days ago. 

Reeling from the new nickname, you answered, “We were just talking,” you whispered before quickly asking, “Are you upset with me?” The thought of Heimdall genuinely angry at you made your stomach churn uncomfortably, and you prayed for his mercy.

Heimdall softened, having read your mind, and brought a hand to brush your cheek gently. His thumb swooped from just beside your nose to below the edge of your eye as if he were brushing a tear away, and you realized just how big his hands were in comparison to your face. 

“Oh, I’m not mad at you. Far from it, in fact. I’m just deeply disturbed by Thor’s lack of boundaries. Does he not know who you belong to?” Heimdall was thinking out loud at this point, but what you focused on was that last part. Your chest tightened at the idea of being Heimdall’s, and you leaned into his touch, already willing to do absolutely anything for the god. 

Heimdall sensed this, of course, and pride surged through him as he smiled deviously, gold teeth shining in the torchlight of the Great Lodge. 

“Yes,” Heimdall hissed, “Tell me you’re mine.” Heimdall could feel his erection waking back up, and he leaned closer, lips just millimeters away from yours. 

Without hesitation, you stated, “I’m yours.” Heimdall rewarded this by finally touching you, his hands flying to your waist, thumbs rubbing circles into the material of your tunic.

“And you don’t care about my ogre of a brother one bit, right?” You nodded avidly, which made Heimdall hum in approval. 

“I don’t care about Thor. Or anyone. Just you. Only you.” Once the words were out, Heimdall growled, lips locking with yours in a heated embrace. 

Your arms flew to wrap around Heimdall’s neck as he pushed your pelvis into his. Through his trousers, you felt the generous outline of his cock, and your stomach flipped in anticipation. You knew Heimdall was gifted, but Gods, you were almost scared of how big he’d be. You wondered if he’d be able to fit inside you.

Heimdall groaned, reading your thoughts; you were perfect at stroking his ego. Pausing, Heimdall separated from you, watching as a line of saliva kept you connected before falling on your plump lips, “All will come in due time, dearest.” 

And just as quickly as you had parted, you were kissing again. It was passionate and familiar, full of years of longing and want all finally coming to fruition. You moaned into Heimdall’s mouth, giving the Aesir the perfect opportunity to lick inside it, tongue pressing against yours. 

You throbbed and rocked against Heimdall’s hips, hoping to relieve some of the tension. Gods, Heimdall almost couldn’t keep up with you. Almost. 

Choosing to be his usual self, Heimdall broke the kiss before asking, “Why don’t we play a game?”

You gave Heimdall a worried look, but he quickly squashed your fears, “Don’t worry, precious, I’m sure you’ll like it.” Again, that evil smirk was back, and it left you all the more intrigued. 

“It’s called: How Long Can You Last?” You were about to speak when Heimdall interrupted, hands snaking beneath your tunic and running under the hem of your trousers, “I’m sure you’re dying to know how to play, so I’ll graciously explain.” 

Heimdall’s hands stopped their travels and instead moved upward, and getting the hint, you raised both arms above your head. With ease, Heimdall removed your tunic before stopping to ogle your chest. 

Taking both breasts in hand and massaging, Heimdall continued, his voice noticeably deeper, “You see, I’ll touch you however I please, and you have to keep from cumming until I allow it. Understand?” 

Arching into Heimdall’s touch, you moaned out a yes. Sufficiently pleased with your response (and himself), Heimdall explained further, rubbing your nipples until they hardened into stiff peaks, “But if you do cum before I say, well, I’ll just have to chain you up naked for all of Asgard to see, won’t I?” 

His breath was hot against your ear when he teased, “Oh, who am I kidding? You’d probably like that.” 

Looking away, you felt a new flood of warmth tinge your cheeks. Heimdall quickly grabbed your chin, making sure to be gentle for now,  “Ah– another rule before we begin. You have to keep your eyes on me the whole time. No looking away, pretending to be all bashful.” Heimdall gave you a knowing stare, and you nodded, accepting his rules. 

“Good girl. So good for me,” Heimdall whispered sweet nothings into your ear as one of his hands maneuvered back down your stomach to worm under the top of your trousers before cupping your covered cunt. 

Heimdall’s middle finger ran along the length of your pussy, and feeling how soaked your undergarments were, he teased you again, “We’ve barely begun, yet you are already so wet! You must have been waiting for this moment for years.” Heimdall punctuated the end of his sentence by lightly slapping your already sensitive pussy, earning a yelp from you. 

“Mm, how I love the noises you make.” You were about to whine, desperate for Heimdall to give you more, but considering the god of foresight had little patience as is, he acquiesced and shoved your underwear to the side before plunging his middle finger into your inviting cunt.

Heimdall groaned at the feeling of your tight walls fluttering around his finger, already imagining how good your pussy would feel wrapped around his cock.

Moaning, you bucked into Heimdall’s hand, relishing in the feeling of his palm grinding against your clit as he worked you. Soon, Heimdall added his ring finger, then another, stretching you wide before pistoning his fingers into your cunt, aiming right for that spot inside of you each time. 

Your whole body shook from the force of it, and within just a couple of minutes, your orgasm was hastily approaching. Remembering the god’s words, you warned, “Heimdall, wait! I’m gonna–” 

Suddenly, Heimdall’s fingers were gone, and you whined high in your throat at the loss, your hips rocking for more, “Such a greedy little thing, aren’t you?” Heimdall’s face was downright devilish as you locked eyes. Then, Heimdall brought his hand to his mouth, sucking the digits and moaning at the taste. 

You could’ve cum from that sight alone before Heimdall’s hand was back in its original position, fucking you senseless. Electricity crackled through your veins as your legs shook violently, your orgasm steadfastly approaching once again. The feeling was quicker this time, and you assumed it would continue to get faster the more Heimdall kept this up. You weren’t sure if you’d be able to stop from cumming, then. 

With a raspy voice, you clung to Heimdall and whimpered in his ear, “Heimdall, it’s–” In a flash, the Aesir removed his hand again, inspecting the slick that dripped from his fingers with a satisfied grin. 

After allowing your orgasm to dissipate, Heimdall went right back to it, this time kissing you wildly, earning a pleased moan from deep within your throat. The added sensation of Heimdall’s lips on you brought you to that peak for a third time, and like a good dog, you alerted him, “I’m gonna cum, Heimdall! Please, let me cum!” 

Heimdall continued his movements, pressing his palm further against your clit, “I should make you beg more often.” 

The match struck, and you screamed out Heimdall’s name, nails digging into the white cotton of his tunic as your whole body trembled from the overwhelming force of it. Wetness soaked Heimdall’s hand and seeped through your pants, coating the insides of your thighs. Heimdall’s hand didn’t slow or stop, however, as he kept his assault on your pussy up until you were practically crying from the overstimulation. 

The pleasure nearly turned to pain before Heimdall relented, gently moving his hand away and using the other to support you as you almost toppled over, “Easy there, sunshine.” 

You slumped against Heimdall’s chest, chest heaving and legs physically weak, when Heimdall suddenly picked you up bridal style and carried you to your bed. You sunk into the blankets, hands reaching out for the god. 

Before climbing into bed with you, Heimdall removed your ruined trousers and threw them off to the side. Settling in behind you, Heimdall wrapped his arms around your waist and nuzzled into your neck.

With a hoarse voice, you asked, “Wait, what about you?” 

Heimdall kissed your shoulder, “Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten about me.” 

[heimdallsram]

━━━━ masterlist. soundtrack. archive of our own. taglist.

title: perennial

pairing: heimdall x female! goddess! reader

"You were a goddess of oaths and vows. It was only fitting that Odin would bind you to his service in only the most ironic way that he knew how: marriage."

this fanfiction contains the following: domestic violence, blood, gore, choking, violent sexual content, bad BDSM etiquette, non-consensual somnophilia, blood drinking, unhealthy relationships, and much more content that may be sensitive to some readers. reader discretion is advised.

*for inquiries about the taglist, please dm me and i will add you to it.

 When Heimdall returned to lift, he was brooding. He did not taunt you the entire ride up the wall, and never once did he even open his mouth to speak to you. You responded in kind, keeping your eyes on your feet. You did not regret what you had said to him; it had been the truth, after all, and had done its intended job. But still, you felt that Siv was… too overpowering. She had told you how to leave your body for a brief moment of time, but she had not explained in detail how that would be successful. And she had said something to him, too, from the way his face drew tight in thought. You had no memory of it, no matter how much you searched in your and Siv’s shared mind space, and that worried you.

 And… she was blocking you. In every way imaginable, she had forcefully excised your ability to enter your own mind realm completely. You felt nothing when you tried to reach for the knowledge of your previous lives. You were grasping at thin wisps of smoke and ash that drifted to the wind faster than you could gather them.

 A cool breeze began to blow as you trudged along the top of the wall. It snuck down your dress and clung to your skin. Gooseflesh sprouted in places you could not see. You crossed your arms against your chest to quell the shiver you felt in your spine and turned to face the sun, which was, coincidentally, also in the direction of the little Midgardian settlement just outside the wall. They were observing the both of you while doing their chores for the day, churning butter, working metal, tilling small sections of field, the like. The children you had watched make their vow waved and clapped to get your attention, and with your heart soft still with their promise, you lifted your hand and waved back.

 “You would wave to the mongrels?” His first words were dripping with derision. The chill had no effect on him, it seemed, for his skin was clear of gooseflesh—only a mild five o’ clock shadow had grown, indicative that he had not shaved before getting up to monitor you for Odin. The sun caught the blond in his braids at just the right angle, the returning light bright to your eyes. “They do not even know who you are.”

 Your smile faded slowly and, after a moment, you dropped your hand. “Is it so bad to give them some attention? They are what make us strong. They worship us.”

 “No one worships you.”

 “Perhaps.” The little girl and boy continued to wave and dance for you. “But I know they worship a false image of you, Heimdall. All of the gods, they worship theses… twisted versions of them. It may be different, inside these walls, but to them, we are their protectors, their overseers. Ignoring them would be foolish.”

 “Listening to them would make you no better than Tyr.” Heimdall turned away. “I tire of your pretty words and hypocritical moods.”

 You turned to him, eyebrows drawn in confusion. The sun cast you into shadow, cold filling the recesses of where it had once shone upon you. “Pretty words and hypocritical moods? Surely you do not speak of me of those things.”

 “You lie to yourself daily. Don’t think I don’t notice.” He rolls his eyes but the gesture is lost to the indignation that is currently suffusing his person with animated energy. “Strolling the grounds? Eating with Sif? Helping the All-Father? All of it is to fill some desperate longing you feel to be a true goddess and it makes me sick.”

 “There is nothing I seek from your family that they do not offer,” you reply stiffly. He truly knew how to hit far below the belt. “Being bound here like chattel does not change that.”

 “Ah, yes, the Collar of Repentance,” he said in a drawled hiss. He reached for the golden metal cord around your neck, fingers pulling the lengths towards him. You were forced to follow, until he was close enough that he could read the runes on the gold, count the individual frown lines around your mouth. His eyes narrowed ever so slightly, some emotion flickering inside them that you had never seen. “Father told me you were stupid enough to sell the object of your confinement to some merchant in Vanaheim.”

 You pressed your lips together tightly. He was just close enough that you were tempted to push him off the wall and watch him fall, fall, fall, all the way down to the corner of the training barracks where he would land with a sickening crack. You would watch him from the top, observe the way brain matter and blood and fluid all spread from his body in a crimson pool, and then you would run for as long as the spells would let you. But if you pushed him now, you would go with him, and you had a feeling that Odin would draw you back faster than you wanted.

 “I was a child.”

 “A foolish one.”

 “A starving one.” You stepped back, but he did not release the collar and you felt it pull against your skin. “Release me.”

��He never acknowledged you. His eyes were trained on the gold between his fingers, thumbing the lengths between his index and thumb thoughtfully. “I never was one for sharing my things.”

 “Excuse me?” You choked out.

 “This allows my father to control you, does it not?” He jerked on it harshly and you brought your hands up to his chest to keep from running into him entirely. “Keeps you awake for days on end, which also, somehow, manages to keep me awake, and shortens my temper. I wonder if I break it, if it will stop.”

 Your eyes drew up to his face, widening at the contemplation you could see dawning upon him. “It cannot be broken. And it is not the collar, but the marriage vow that bothers you.”

 “So you can see it, after all.” Heimdall released the collar and you stumbled back, just to the edge of the wall. You could feel your right heel scrape over nothing but thin air. “I had thought it was you. It was just too convenient, how you were able to see vows and oaths and whatever the fuck else it is you do.”

 “You can’t really blame me,” you huffed. Your fingers touched the raw skin where the collar had pulled. “While fighting you is entertaining, I am miserable here. Seeing you suffer is the only joy I can experience. And this damned collar enforces fidelity.”

 “Does it now?” He raised an eyebrow. “That explains quite a few things, but none of it quite adds up to how you know the names of my mothers.”

 Oh, Siv, you have truly dug me the biggest hole imaginable.

 So you told him the truth. “I do not know the names of your mothers, Heimdall.”

 “No, no, not you, the other you.” He waited for realization to come upon your face, but it never came. He frowned. “The one that oozes power and looks as if she could kill me. Not ringing any bells? Oh, the All-Father is in for a treat.”

 “You won’t be telling Odin anything.” With a firm metaphysical hand and a sneer, you seized the bond and pulled at one of the vows. He made a strange choking sound and reached for his navel. “You see, our vows—as impersonal as they were—included loyalty to each other. Odin was never in that equation; when it comes to me, I will always, always win.”

 You released the vow cautiously. It thrummed yellow between your fingertips, buzzing angrily.

 You continued,”You can try to fight it. But these are permanently binding. I know that best. And I may not be a goddess of any worth, or renown, or power, but know this, dear husband: I am stronger in other ways. Stronger than you could ever imagine. And you would be wrong to treat me as if I am something insignificant, an ant to be crushed under your boot. You hate me, yes, but I can make your very existence something you will regret until the end of your days. This I swear.”

 “You bitch,” he coughed. He straightened unsteadily, eyes unfocused and hazy. “I would gladly go to Hel if it meant I could escape you.”

 “You could try.” You watched him with a strange gleam in your eye as he tried to ignore the way the vow was forcing him to keep secrets from Odin. It was likely that he already knew of what had occurred through his ravens, but it gave you some sick sense of pleasure to reveal the power you had over his little lap dog. “You might even succeed. But where you go, I will follow, and one day you will have nowhere to run as Ragnarok breathes down your neck.”

 Siv battered at your mind furiously. This was not part of her plan; you were ruining what carefully laid groundwork you had made on the beach. But you were tired of playing puppet to your past selves and men who thought they knew better. You would make these decisions yourself, and you would pay whatever price would come to you; you had suffered enough for this.

 You had died enough for this.

 Your hands came up to grip his face tightly, as he had your own. Your fingers dug into his cheekbones and ears, a wickedly delicate hold that prevented him from rising to his full height. He still held a hand over the vow where he could not see but feel it, and he stilled under your touch, at the words that poured from your lips like silk.

 “You are mine, and now, you will never be free.”

 With a smile on your face, you dropped your hands and tucked them into your dress. You left him there on that wall, his face rapidly losing composure, and let yourself down into the village below. You bought a cup of ale and nuts, as you always did, and sat down to watch the birds fly among the clouds.

 Heimdall’s roar of fury echoed throughout all of Asgard. But you paid it no mind.

 Instead, you took quiet peace in the thought that if you died today, you had done it, finally, on your terms.

***

  “You speak of the Var goddess.” Tyr had been silent as Atreus spoke of the woman who had graced their presence, for the better part of their journey to Sindri’s home. “A proud lineage, but not one to be trifled with lightly.”

 Kratos furrowed his brow. “You know of their abilities?”

 “Some,” the former god of war offered. Atreus clung to every word, as was a child’s tendency to do so. “They are mysterious in nature. Rarely do they ever participate in worldly matters, save for the first, who aided Odin in killing Ymir.”

 “Really?” Atreus’ mouth opened in surprise. “But I thought—“

 “Stories aren’t always true, lad,” Mimir piped up brightly. “Besides, I think Tyr would know better than anyone what happened that day, eh?”

 “I only know what I was told.” Tyr shook his head slightly. “But please be careful when you make vows with her. They can be more than ruinous if you break the wrong one.”

 “She seemed nice, though,” Atreus hummed in thought. “I don’t think she would hurt me. Or any of us.”

 The giant fixed his golden gaze on the boy briefly. “You have not seen the damage they can cause. The lives they have ruined. The people they have killed when those vows are broken. It would be better that you do not associate yourself with her.”

 Atreus, frowning, followed Tyr through the white door. Kratos, however, remained behind for a moment, brief.

 “I don’t like this,” Mimir said, finally. “Something is wrong here.”

 “But what?” Kratos shook his head tiredly. “A reformed god of war is likely to not be the same as he was before. Being imprisoned has changed him.”

 “Maybe so, brother.” A click of the tongue. “Mayhap I am just lookin’ too far into it.”

| next. taglist: @versiesleeps @kkashibai

[vilentia]

In the Arms of the Watcher

Heimdall x reader

Summary: In the realm of Asgard, Heimdall returns home to love and warmth, weaving tales of wonder with his beloved.

Rating: General

Category: fluff

****

As the day drew to a close, the vibrant colors of Asgard's sunset painted the sky, casting a warm glow over the golden halls. You eagerly awaited the return of your beloved husband, Heimdall, who had been diligently watching over the realms. The anticipation of his arrival filled your heart with joy and excitement.

With each passing minute, your excitement grew until finally, the doors swung open, and there he stood, tall and regal in his Asgardian armor. A smile graced your face as you rushed into his open arms, feeling the strength and warmth that enveloped you.

"Heimdall, you're home!" you exclaimed, burying your face in his chest. "I missed you."

His deep voice resonated through your being as he replied, "And I missed you, my love. The realms are vast, but they pale in comparison to the comfort and love I find in your arms."

With a tender smile, Heimdall gently disentangled himself from your embrace, his armor glimmering in the soft candlelight that illuminated your chamber. He moved with a graceful fluidity, removing the various pieces of his armor and setting them aside, symbolizing the shedding of his duties and the transition to a well-deserved respite. As he slipped into more comfortable clothing, he couldn't help but steal glances at you, admiring your serene beauty. The love in his eyes deepened as he watched you, marveling at the way your presence brought him peace and joy.

You looked up into his bright, wise eyes and felt a wave of affection wash over you. "Tell me of your adventures, of the wonders you have witnessed today," you said softly, your voice filled with genuine curiosity.

Heimdall, wearing his comfortable attire now, gently brushed a lock of hair from your face, his touch as tender as a whisper. A smile played on his lips as he settled beside you, his arm instinctively encircling your waist, drawing you closer to his strong, protective form. The warmth of his body melded with yours, creating an intimate cocoon of affection.

He began to recount the tales of his watchful gaze, his voice carrying a sense of awe and reverence. As he spoke, you could almost feel the magic of the Bifröst and the distant realms come alive.

Listening to him, you marveled at his unwavering dedication and strength, but above all, you cherished the love he poured into his words. Heimdall had a way of making even the simplest stories seem extraordinary, painting vivid pictures with his words and whisking you away on fantastical journeys.

As his stories tapered off, you found yourself leaning against him, your head resting on his broad chest. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat brought you comfort, grounding you in the present moment. Heimdall's strong arms enveloped you in a protective embrace, cradling you with tenderness.

"I'm grateful for every day I spend by your side," he whispered, his breath warm against your ear.

"And I, for every moment I get to share with you," you replied, your voice filled with love.

In the quiet of the night, the two of you found solace in each other's presence. Wrapped in the safety of your love, you drifted off to sleep, feeling the rise and fall of Heimdall's chest, a soothing lullaby that carried you into dreams filled with adventure, love, and a future illuminated by the eternal bond you shared.

[takusan-no-ai]

Sudden Disappearance

PAIRING: Kratos/Odin/Heimdall/Thor/Baldur x Female Reader (Romantic) (Separate)

SUMMARY: Their wife, (Y/N), is kidnapped. One day, she returns after victoriously defeating her captor.

Kratos goes into a panic when he can’t find you. He feels so many emotions all at once. He can’t focus on anything now that you’re missing.

A part of him wonders if you left him, but he tries not to focus on it; he knows you and doesn’t want to think negatively of you.

He’ll travel through every realm to find you, asking others of your whereabouts. Any leads towards a missing woman were all met with a dead end.

When you return Kratos embraces you tightly. After hearing about your experience he urges you to train more with him. Just in case this happens again, but your kidnapper happens to be stronger.

At first Odin thinks you’re just out exploring for some days. Days turn into weeks and when he can’t see you from the eyes of his ravens he begins to panic.

If Baldur is still alive then he’ll send him out to find you. Otherwise Odin will look for you himself, which is fairly quick considering his powers. Heimdall would tell him to reconsider going for you himself, saying it could be a trap to lure him in.

Odin would refute that, saying “She’s my wife. If I don’t go to look for her myself then who will? Baldur’s dead and I need you here in Asgard! Thor is useless in situations like this!”

When you return Odin demands to know what happened to you, and places a punishment worse than death on the culprit. He later creates a raven similar to Huginn and Muninn specifically for keeping an eye on you.

Heimdall knows you, and so once he suspects you’ve been abducted, he sticks to it. Never faltering to think that you left him. He is furious at the abductor and himself; he should have seen it coming, and yet he didn’t.

Will tell Odin of what has happened and that he wishes to look for you himself, however he is denied so as the Watchmen of the Aesir. Nobody likes him, and by being his wife, you, so he can’t convince anyone to look for you.

Heimdall will sneak out of Asgard and search for you against Odin’s command. He may love Asgard, but he loves you even more.

You’ll meet up halfway with Heimdall if he follows the right tracks to find you, which he likely will. If your captor isn’t already dead, then Heimdall will make sure he is.

Thor becomes paranoid when you don’t come back by night. He can’t sleep, and his thoughts start to wander. He worries that he might’ve done something wrong, he thinks you left him. He may even relapse into drinking.

Thrúd will comfort and knock some sense into her father, which sets him on the path for finding you. He does still worry that you may be dead, or left him for someone better.

Thor knows he’s hasn’t always been the best husband to you. But, you’re his wife. You’ve been married to this man for years and he’s not about to give up on you over paranoia.

When you return to Asgard Thor will hug you so tight your back may crack. He’s incredibly proud of you for defending yourself, but he will definitely become more protective of you. You’ll probably also start training with Thrúd.

Baldur is enraged by your kidnapping, but he’s confident that he will find you. Baldur also knows of your fighting capabilities, so he’s not too worried about your predicament.

He will find you. Just as you’re leaving from your kidnapper’s hideout Baldur lands before you with his dragon.

When both of you return home, Baldur makes it clear that nobody tries to harm his wife. He will personally antagonize anyone that even looks at you wrongly afterwards, secretly fearing the worst.

- Fin

[pascaloverx]

Forbidden Romance

Summary: You are in love with Prince Thor. He will soon be King and is hosting a ball between Kingdoms so he can find his future bride. Unfortunately, the Kingdom of Asgard is not ready to accept the Chief of the Royal Guard as the new Queen.

Warnings: inappropriate language, use of violence and adult content in the future of fanfic. some characters belong to the Marvel universe and others were created by the author.

chapter two

Chapter One

A calm morning awaits you as you don your attire of the Kingsguard. The duty calls to you. Guarding the safety of the great son of Asgard is an honor. The challenge is to leave your personal feelings aside. Damn was the moment you fell in love...

"Are you sure it won't be strange for you escorting your little boyfriend to a ball designed for him to find a future wife?" Loki quips as he strides into your room without any ceremony. You brandish your sword at the level of the rejected Prince Loki.

"It's conversations like these that make me know I should hit you every time you come to my room." You speak while holding the sword tightly. Loki walks away, smiling a little too much for those who seem afraid of you.

"I came in peace. Thor asked you to stop by his room before leaving to give instructions to the Kingsguard." Loki says, laying down under his bed and swinging his feet playfully. You roll your eyes reproaching him but I understand that it's good that he's helping you and Thor.

"You know if you tell anyone about this, I'll rip your tongue out of your head, right?" You say it knowing that he'll probably enjoy you hurting him but that he would feel humiliated for being hurt by a commoner like you.

"And miss the chance to watch you two fucking everything up when my precious father notices that his favorite son is the one who will bring ruin to his kingdom." Hearing these words coming out of Loki's mouth makes everything even more real. If you and Thor are caught, you will be sentenced to death. And he will be king anyway.

"Tell your brother, I'll see him at the opening ceremony to welcome the leaders of each kingdom and their children." You say finishing and getting ready to go. But to your surprise, before you could leave your room, Thor was waiting for you. Accompanied, obviously, by the guard responsible for his security. You straighten up and bow, paying homage to the future king.

"Lynox, you may withdraw. The chief of the Kingsguard and I have a private matter to discuss." Thor says, looking at you. He scans you from top to bottom, as if he could undress you with just one look. You would like to live in a world where you could reciprocate with him. But we're not in that world.

"With all due respect, Your Highness, Lynox can witness our conversation. After all, as the second-in-command of the Kingsguard, he should be informed about matters concerning your security." You say, looking seriously at Thor and Lynox, who is unsure whether to leave or stay to listen to the conversation.

"Lynox." Thor says, and that's all it takes for Lynox to leave us alone. In the kingdom, Thor's word is only second to that of his parents. Soon, you and he are staring at each other.

"Are you proud? Your word holds more weight than mine in every corner of the kingdom. Want to test that with someone else? Your brother is in my room right now. Want to try to get him out with just a command, Your Highness?" You're upset because when you and Thor started to see each other as more than just royal guard and royalty, he promised he wouldn't walk over you.

"Dove…" He speaks so softly. His eyes watch you as his arms draw near. Thor then pulls you close to him, embracing you tightly.

"You enjoy doing things that put both my position in the Royal Guard and my life at risk. And I'm a fool for accepting it without a fight." You say, lifting your face as Thor looks down to meet your gaze. As you lock eyes, you slowly lean in towards the future king's face, being kissed by him shortly after.

"I'll talk to my father. Try to delay having to choose a wife. Or you could…" He begins, but you already step back, knowing what he's going to suggest.

"Become your mistress?" — you are revolted by the possibility of becoming the King's mistress— "To be the woman who sleeps with the King when he's not with the Queen?" Thor looks regretful about what he was about to say. You, however, look at him determinedly.

"You will never be a mere mistress to me. We could have a family together while the queen and I can have a semblance of a wedding." You laughed at Thor's foolishness. In fact, you were even afraid that Asgard was in the hands of a foolish prince.

"My love...shut up before anyone can hear all this nonsense. I'd rather die in battle than be the woman you cheat on your wife with." You say leaving disappointed with reality. This reality makes you know that you will always be just that for Thor. A head of the Kingsguard or a mistress.

You are a little shaken when you hear a noise and go after it to find out what is happening. A man dressed as royalty stands in the middle of the kingdom's trophy room. He is not known to you, you find his presence strange but you know you need to be polite when questioning him.

"This room has restricted entry. Only Asgardian Royalty can enter here. How did you manage to get past the Royal Guard?" You question using the most serious tone of voice possible. You hold tight to the tip of your sword that is attached to your waist. The man looks at you as if enchanted.

"I think the Royal Guard is busy preparing for the arrival of great royal representatives from the main kingdoms allied to Asgard. Are you usually so straight-faced with everyone?"He asks turning towards you.

"One more step and I will be forced to attack you. Tell me who are you?" You ask, almost wielding your sword, as a way of threatening the man in front of you.

"I hope you can explain to the King how you treat visitors. But since you insist on knowing, I am Steve. Son of King Tristan, future King of Kyrax." He speaks with such petulant calm. It's like he knew you would regret being hostile towards him.

"Your Highness could have told me you were a prince from the beginning. I hope you know that my approach was just security protocol. I will leave you alone." You speak cordially, trying not to show how embarrassed you are.

"However, I prefer your company. " He says as he watches you walk away. You turn around almost abruptly, confused by his revelation.

"I don't know how things are in your kingdom, Your Highness, but here commoners and royalty don't usually keep each other company unless it's essential." You speak keeping a safe distance between you and Prince Steve. Something useless since he doesn't know personal space and quickly got too close to you

"The Commander of the Royal Guard is right, Believe me, she avoids spending time alone even with me if it's not necessary." Thor says, entering the trophy room and staying close, but in a professional manner. The tension between the two is palpable and you mentally prepare yourself for what's to come.

[nexysworld]

Distractions of the Mind

Read on AO3 🖤   Requests are Open 🖤Fic/Request Master List Summary: @daddykomeada suggested doing a Heimdall version of my Leon fic where the reader gets caught having wet dreams, and I thought that is a great idea! Pairing: Heimdall x Fem!Reader Tags: NSFW, Smut, Oral Fem Receiving, Heimdall is Heimdall, slightly dubcon, sexsomnia, not proof read. Word Count: 1.8k

You’d hoped the God of Foresight hadn’t caught on to your behavior. I mean, he shouldn't, right? A lot of people avoid Heimdall, it’s not like he was known for being fun to be around. But you did tend to the animals, especially Gulltoppr, being one of the only people the animal seemed to approve of besides Heimdall himself. That fact meant you spent more time with Heimdall than anyone else of your station. But still, you were nothing but a servant to Asgard, surely he wouldn’t really notice or care, right? It wasn’t anything Heimdall had done that caused you to flee. Strangely Heimdall and you seemed to get along, if you could call it that, during your brief interactions. No it was your own imagination wreaking havoc on you that made you avoid him like the plague. For nearly two weeks straight every time you closed your eyes all you saw was him. It started with innocent things like small talk, brief touches, soft kisses. Things that were easy to not think about in the daylight hours. But then your unconscious mind would take things up a notch. Soon you were picturing what he’d look like under all those layers of metal and cloth; strong, lean muscles, a trail of dusty blonde hair ghosting from his belly button down towards – stop. As your dreams got worse, every morning you’d wake with your hand stuffed into your slick-wet and sticky undergarments, with feelings of shame.

That was the exact reason you couldn’t be anywhere near him. The second you even heard his name those feelings would bubble up inside you and instantly your mind would drift back to those very inappropriate dreams. You weren’t sure how far his Foresight or mind reading extended, but you weren’t planning on finding out, not being able to bear the thought of him seeing himself in your mind like that. What would you even say to him? What could you even say? Surely you weren’t the first person to ever think of bedding a God, but c’mon it was Heimdall.

So that left you where you were now. Switching jobs with another servant, ducking out of buildings, avoiding any place Heimdall even might inhabit for any amount of time. Your hope was that distance would make the dreams stop and eventually you could go back to handling animals like you loved. 

Unfortunately for you Heimdall had noticed, but probably not for the reason you would think.

Heimdall could almost admit to himself that maybe he liked the interactions he had with you. Maybe. You were witty, kept up with his tongue, but knew better to not push enough to offend. More importantly he never felt any deception in you. There weren’t many people like that, not that he’d ever say those compliments out loud. Despite those things, what had actually gotten him to notice your absence was that Gulltoppr missed you. The beast was not playing nice with any of the other servants. He couldn’t keep track of the number of nervous people who’d requested his assistance to calm the beast back down. He was sick of having his own work interrupted when there was no good reason for it.

He immediately demanded that you return to the stables, but Sif had denied him. Apparently you were too busy doing anything but tending to the animals. That’s when he decided he didn’t care. If you couldn’t assist during the work day, then consider your free time as belonging to him now. Heimdall’s back up plan had not been going well with you becoming obnoxiously hard to find. It was like you were a ghost – he would have to extend his powers to see glimpses of you in others’ minds just to try and locate you. He was not happy about that in the slightest, consider yourself now officially on his bad side – and one thing no one ever wanted was to be on Heimdall’s bad side. Not that he had a good one. 

Too stubborn to give up on his quest and itching to take out his frustrations on you, he decided to switch up tactics. He waited until the moon was high enough that he was sure everyone in the female servant’s quarters was asleep before making his way inside. His plan was to drag you outside for a good verbal lashing before sending you to the stables.

He remained quiet, not wanting to wake anyone else. While he didn’t care much what people thought of him, he didn’t feel like being bogged down with constant thoughts and rumors of himself being a pervert, sneaking into the female's room in the middle of the night. Continuing to make his way by each bed, he could tell who was who by their thoughts, what they were dreaming about. Next. Not you. Still not you. Next. Oh. 

Heimdall stopped in his tracks, finding you by the back corner of the room, separated off from most of the others. There you were, hand in your underwear, soft whimpers escaping your lips. He focused his eyes on you, letting himself slip into your head to see. Heimdall didn’t consider himself a prude by any means but – “Oh you naughty, naughty girl.” He whispered to himself. He could venture to guess why you’d made yourself scarce now. He exited your mind so he could better focus on your physical form, the moonlight shining in through the window illuminating your face. He wasn’t typically one for these late night dalliances, but if fixing this little problem would lead to you getting back to where he needed you to be, then so be it. Heimdall reached down, shaking you gently by the shoulder. The second your eyes were opened his hand was clamped over your mouth. “Shush, unless you want to wake the whole room.” The shock of the situation had been so great you had to wait for your brain to fully catch up to what was happening. As soon as it did, you were mortified when you realized not only was your hand still stuffed into your panties but Heimdall most definitely had seen what was on your mind. “Do not.” He said, giving you a warning as he removed his hand from your mouth. “Stay quiet. Not a word.” You weren’t fully sure what he was talking about until he’d walked to the end of the bed, yanking you to the end by your ankles, before hiking your dress up and pulling your underwear down. You barely had the time to process what he’d done until the cold air made contact with your slick and needy cunt. The feeling caused you to let out a small gasp, which earned you a warning look. You couldn’t see his face too well in the shallow light, but you could definitely see the glowing bifrost orbs staring back at you. The situation had thrown you for a loop but now you were awake enough to feel the full embarrassment of what was going on. Wait he’s not going to– “Don’t get too far ahead of yourself. You’re not getting that lucky this evening.” He responded to your internal dialogue with an annoyed whisper. It was obvious you were confused considering he was just standing there while you were laid out on your back, legs open, exposed, nothing happening. You could see him roll his eyes before he knelt down between your legs, hooking each one over his shoulder.

 Oh.Now you understand. Heimdall started by teasing the inside of your thighs with small kisses and flicks of his tongue. Each small touch sent little shocks of tingling pleasure straight to your core, adding to the slick that was already pooling onto your sheets. 

As he worked his mouth higher, he’d begin to nip and suck bruises into your skin before soothing them by circling his tongue over the purpled flesh. You wanted to make noise so badly, it was taking everything inside you to keep quiet and he hadn’t even begun to attack the throbbing ache of your clit. 

Despite his own words telling you to shush, Heimdall couldn’t keep his own mouth shut, though he’d speak in low whispers. “Look at how excited you are and I haven’t even touched you there. Are you sure you’re a servant of Asgard and not just a common whore?” His words sent another jolt of heat between your legs. You wanted to argue, say something back, but your brain wasn’t functioning well enough for that. Finally he darted his tongue out licking lazily up and down your weeping slit. Each time the tip of his tongue came in contact with your sensitive clit you’d involuntarily try to buck into him for more friction, his arms keeping you trapped in place like a vice. It felt so good. Shocks of pleasure radiating from your core down to your toes. Your ability to keep yourself quiet had dissipated leaving you no choice but to clamp your hands over your mouth to keep it in, but not before a small whimper escaped. “I bet you’d love to get caught right now, wouldn’t you. Have all the servants watch with envy while your slick dribbles down my chin? Want them to think you’re so special for bringing the untouchable God to his knees?” You were about to tell him he was wrong but that thought stopped dead in its tracks when his tongue was shoved into your hole, nose now prodding at your clit giving tingling jolts while he worked himself in and out. The sensation had your eyes rolling back, still trying fruitlessly to move under his grip. You wanted so badly to reach down and grab fistfulls of those neatly braided locks. “Don’t even try it.” He threatened before diving back down to continue.  You were so very close, the heat in your stomach twisting so tight it was about to snap - Heimdall didn’t need his foresight to see that given your reactions thus far. He switched up movements and alternated between sucking on your clit before lapping at it with the flat of his tongue. Only a few seconds later and you arched your back with a choked sob into your hands, the heat in your core unraveling and spreading throughout your body into a toe-curling orgasm. Heimdall gave a few more small licks to your overstimulated clit, amused by the reaction he received before standing up and dropping your legs down. He used the sleeve of his tunic to wipe your juices off of his face. “Tomorrow evening, stables.” Was all he stated before turning heel and walking out of the room.  You were left with whiplash not quite believing that had actually just happened. Surely this was just another dream and not wanting to argue with your own sleepy mind, you decided to lay back and close your eyes. But as evidenced by the giant wet spot on the bed, clearly visible in the morning sunlight when you awoke, it was certainly not a dream.

[holylulusworld]

Rotten masterlist

Summary: Asgard is lost. So are you.

Pairing: former (implied) Ragnarök!Thor Odinson x fem!Reader

Side pairing (platonic?): Heimdall x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, despair, mentions of a curse, violence against the reader, flashbacks, fighting, more to be added

A/N2: This is a what-if story. What if Hela won and Thor & Loki turned dark too...

Rotten (Prologue)

Rotten (1)

Rotten (2)

Rotten (3)

Rotten (4)

[hrefna-the-raven]

Tome of Fate - Vol. 2

Masterlist - Loki masterlist

Chapters: 1 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - Bonus chapter

Summary: This is the continuation of the AU story about Loki, prince of Jotunheim, and the reader, princess of Asgard, after their fateful summer in Jotunheim.

Words: 1252

Warnings: smut (kind of) (18+), unfaithfulness (kind of), drunkenness

Chapter 2

In the heart of the unassuming valley, nestled among the towering peaks, lay a village so small and cozy that it seemed a world of its own. The wooden cottages, adorned with golden light and wisps of smoke from their chimneys, painted a picturesque scene against the backdrop of the harsh icy landscape. Bjalki, along with two other warriors and Loki, wandered through the village streets until they reached the bath house at the far end. As they pushed open the heavy wooden door, the comforting warmth and the enticing aroma of fresh herbs enveloped them in a soothing embrace.

"Greetings, prince Loki", an elderly Jotun woman bowed respectfully, her eyes gleaming with warmth as she ushered them through the velvet curtains at the counter. The hot springs within beckoned, promising respite from the rigors of their training.

As the warriors submerged themselves in the soothing waters, the atmosphere was infused with the vibrant hum of laughter and the chattering of their playful complaints about the training, the tension of their battle-hardened bodies melting away, replaced by a sense of ease. Loki leaned back against the smooth rocks, further away from the others, emptying a goblet of mead, his eyes gleaming with a hint of sadness as the flickering torchlight cast shadows across his features. Amidst the laughter and the gentle splashing of water, the air seemed to thicken with an unspoken lust as four younger Jotun women entered the bath house, teasingly dropping their towels. The flickering flames danced gracefully over their naked features as they entered the water, each of them moving up to one of the warriors.

"My name is Galavi", the woman approaching Loki purred, a seductive smile tugging at her lips.

"Loki", the prince mumbled politely, taking another sip of his mead, his eyes meeting hers momentarily before flickering away, trying to ignore not just whatever sounds came from the others but also her.

"Hm my prince, you seem so tensed, let me help you", she whispered, her hands trailing over his chest, the coldness of her touch searing through his skin.

His mind fought desperately to stay focused on you, the love he felt for you and the longing he had for the calm your presence always brought him. Unfortunately, with the amount of mead that cursed through his body tonight, his thoughts slowly trailed off to your last night together in Jotunheim. The memory of your tender, warm lips pressed against his own, the sensation of his cock buried in your heat as you moaned his name. A silent groan escaped his parted lips as he eagerly finished off the remainder of another goblet, only to feel Galavi's hand gripping his hardening length. Half-lidded hazy eyes shifted towards her, finding her smiling as she tightened her hold, teasingly stroking him. He yearned to resist, to protest against her advances, but his body refused to obey. The intoxicating allure of the hot springs, combined with the overwhelming effects of the alcohol, clouded his judgment and tempted him to cast aside all doubts and forsake his love for you in pursuit of sweet release. With closed eyes and an open mouth, he surrendered himself to the overwhelming desire that consumed him, haunted by guilt as vivid images of you touching him replaying in his remorseful mind.

"Mmmh my prince", Galavi's voice broke through his reverie and ultimately brought him back to reality.

Loki hissed, pushed her away, snatched a towel and hurriedly left the water, ignoring Bjalki's remarks as he hastily dressed and stormed out of the bath house. The cold wind slapped his flushed face, feeling like a thousand needles piercing his skin and he grumbled in discomfort as he staggered back to the camp. How could he have been so foolish? Why did he even join Bjalki? He should have known better, yet he ignored all his doubts and ended up inebriated in a bath house with a woman touching him while you were the one he yearned for. He felt unclean, and for the first time, he was grateful that you weren't present because he wouldn't have been able to meet your gaze. His mind attempted to rationalise while his heart seethed with betrayal, leaving him torn and shattered. Tears streamed down his face and he couldn't care less who saw him in this state as he stumbled through the camp towards his tent. As he sank onto his cot, he noticed the stack of letters awaiting him. He reached out, grasped them tightly against his chest and released a sorrowful sob as he laid down. After several moments filled with silent tears, he eventually succumbed to a drunken slumber, still clutching the letters you had sent. This night would not grant him a peaceful rest; instead, twisted figures, born from fear and guilt, would haunt him throughout the entire night, chasing him relentlessly through the darkness of his mind. He would awaken with a heavy heart and a pounding headache just before dawn, when the instructor would once again pursue them through the icy wasteland.

You crumbled the paper and threw it away, sighing at the lack of words. It has been too long since you've heard of Loki, too many letters sent and it felt is if there was nothing left to say anymore. Why wouldn't he write you back? He was away on his training but he was still the prince, that should have granted him at least some time to write back. Your chest felt heavy at the possibility that he might have forgotten you or moved on. The connection the two of you had seemed unique and special, your heart refused to believe that it meant nothing to him. Just as you were lost in your thoughts, a knock on the door startled you. Your mother entered your chamber with a glint of excitement in her eyes.

"My dear, I have a proposal for you," she said, her voice filled with anticipation, "how would you like to travel to Jotunheim with your brother in a few days? The training of the new warriors will come to an end and be celebrated along with winter solstice. I'm sure you would like to honour a certain Jotun prince with your presence", she winked at you.

"How did you convince father?", you asked.

"We are both well aware of who holds the ultimate authority in making decisions within this realm", Frigga chuckled as she hugged you, placing a gentle kiss on your forhead.

Your heart skipped a beat at the prospect of travelling to Jotunheim. The idea of surprising him filled you with a mix of longing and apprehension. Could this be the opportunity to bridge the gap that had formed between the two of you? Although you were hesitant at first, unsure if it was the right thing to do.

Although you were hesitant at first, unsure if it was the right thing to do, but the longing in your heart won over the doubts and so, a few days after the dinner, you found yourself preparing for the journey to Jotunheim. As you and Thor made your way to the Bifröst, your mind was filled with thoughts of Loki and the moments you had shared. As you arrived at the Bifröst, the ever-watchful Heimdall greeted you with his cheerful demeanour.

"Ready?" he asked.

With a nod and a smile, you and Thor stepped onto the shimmering bridge, ready to embark on your journey to Jotunheim. The swirling colours of the Bifröst engulfed you and in an instant, you were transported to the entrance of Utgardhall's palace.

[slipperzipper]

Heimdall!Smut fic

18+!!

Wrote a Heimdall smut fanfic with a Afab!reader, Sex Pollen prompt. Pronouns aren't specfied so Reader could be Ftm or Fem.

I hope you guys enjoy it, as I haven't wrote in a hot minute

[thaboah]

Bones and flowers!

I had and idea. This is my first fanfic and english isn't my first language. I'm sorry for all the mistakes.

Couple: Heimdall x modern!Reader

Summary: You're a witch, a modern witch. It's 2023 and all your friends call you crazy for still believing in magic. But you're sure as hell that you're going to have a 10 on the test tomorrow, all thanks to your spell. Maybe you were going to have a 10 but, wait a minute, this is not your room. Where the hell you are?

Warnings: Bad lenguage, Heimdall being Heimdall, female!reader, reader isn't very smart.

One more candle and it's done. You have finished the spell, tomorrow you're going to have a 10. All of your friends are going to be so jealous, and they will have to accept that magic is real. At least that is what you thought before going to sleep.

- Part 1: Where I am? -

I woke up on what at first I thought it was my room, then when I sat on the bed I saw. Something was clearly wrong. What the fuck? When my room had been cleaned? And where is my stuff? WHY IS EVERYTHING MADE OF WOOD?

My first reaction, I think it's the reaction that everyone would do in the same situation. Scream, I screamed like a child, while I was walking around the room trying to figure out if this was a kind of sick joke. Maybe somewhere in that place was hidden a camera.

I understand that I wasn't in any kind of joke when a woman show up, telling me to shut up. The woman was huge, she had long blond hair, and she was dressed with a blue dress. I can't say more about his aparience. In self-defense, I was scared as hell and I decided to pick the first thing I saw. It was some kind of cup with water. I didn't put to much attention on details, and I threw the cup at the mysterious woman.

— What are you doing?! — The woman yelled at me, maybe it wasn't my best idea. What follows, I think it's even worse. I ran away.

— Okay, Y/N, this shit is happening, some kind of creeps have kidnapped you. — I said to my self while i was looking for a way out. I saw a giant gate, so I tried to push it but it's heavy so it can only open a small gap which I went through. Where the hell I am? This is clearly not my house, not my city. I mean, this isn't even a city, this is a village.

The woman came out behind me, opening that door as if nothing had happened. She seemed very angry, but I decided not to stay to check it out.

— HELP! SOMEBODY, PLEASE HELP ME! — I began to scream with all my might, with tears of fear I witnessed the great wall that practically surrounded the entire city. There had to be a door, right? What kind of person builds a wall without a door?

The screams of the woman saying to go back there were already far away, she was beginning to think that she would get out of this. Although he still did not understand where he could be. Maybe in some kind of sect? Had sectarians kidnapped me? It didn't make sense, but at the time nothing seemed to make sense.

Before I wanted to realize it, I had collided face-first into the wall. I looked up, I definitely wasn't going to climb that wall, it was so tall, what kind of suicidal idiot would?

I had thousands of questions, but I couldn't stop running. At least my clothes were intact, for once I was glad to wear a tracksuit to sleep, instead of normal pajamas. If I couldn't cross to the other side of the wall, at least I wasn't going to stop.

Although I was beginning to get tired, I was not a very athletic person, only what was necessary and what was necessary had already exceeded its limit for a while. I got to what looked like some kind of corral and jumped over the fence, though I landed on my face.

I hadn't even processed what had just happened, I had just sat on the ground caressing my sore cheek, when I saw what looked like some kind of pissed off bull-lion. The universe had to be playing some kind of practical joke on me. That wasn't even a real animal!

I crossed my arms in front of my face to protect it and squeezed my eyes shut. I had already assumed that he was going to hit me, but I didn't even have the energy to dodge. It all got very strange when the blow started to take too long and the voice of someone approaching sounded in the distance.

— I've seen stupid mortals, but you, oh girl, you hit the jackpot. — I looked up to see a young man, wearing a strange outfit decorated with gold and various symbols. He was definitely in some weird kind of cult. He had never seen anyone wear something like that, not that it looked bad on him but it was weird.

— AaaaAAaaA — It was all that came out of my mouth, without leaving the ground I backed away as the unknown approached, I couldn't stop looking at his eyes and his hair, they were beautiful. Although again my head was unable to function. There were so many things to process, I was so confused and scared that when my back hit the fence the only thing I could think of was to pick up a broken stick that was next to me and point it at the man. — I don't know who you are but if you take one more step I'm going to-! — In fact, I didn't had a blunt threat. Hit him with the stick when he had a sword at his waist? Wait. WHY THE FUCK WOULD ANYONE CARRY A SWORD?

As he came closer to me, I gripped the stick even more tightly. Which was pointless because as soon as I bother him I just rip it out of my hand and throw it away.

— Are you so stupid that you don't even know where you are or who I am? — I shook my head, staring at him. Which he also did, he kept looking at my eyes, which made this the most uncomfortable situation in the world. She was desperate for an answer and for it to be correct. Although answering helped me, I said the first thing that came to mind while shrugging my shoulders:

— Madrid and you are from Madrid? — Maybe if I had paid more attention in class now I would know how to answer. The man seemed confused for a couple of seconds, but then, with a kind of anger that he tried to control. He lifted me by the shoulder and forced me to stand up.

The man began to walk as he spoke, I followed him without many other options:

— Stupid mortal, you are in Asgard and I am Heimdall, God of foresight. — I had long since stopped questioning things. If that boy wanted to be God of something, good for him. I followed him through the streets without saying anything.

— I'm not sure of what plans has Odin for you, but i'm sure you're going to be a big disappointment. —

Odin, where have I heard that name before?

-----------------------------------

Finished, hope you like it. And wish me luck, now I have an exam! Haha :)

Part 2

[heimdallsram]

━━━━ masterlist. soundtrack. archive of our own. taglist.

title: perennial

pairing: heimdall x female! goddess! reader

"You were a goddess of oaths and vows. It was only fitting that Odin would bind you to his service in only the most ironic way that he knew how: marriage."

this fanfiction contains the following: domestic violence, blood, gore, choking, violent sexual content, bad BDSM etiquette, non-consensual somnophilia, blood drinking, unhealthy relationships, and much more content that may be sensitive to some readers. reader discretion is advised.

*for inquiries about the taglist, please dm me and i will add you to it.

 “This… Lady Var. Are you certain she is not an agent of Odin?” Kratos inquired from his seat across the table. Laid open in front of him was Atreus’ journal, complete with the thoughts and ramblings of his son, depicting the very topic of conversation. Brok and Sindri glanced to one another. “She has been in Asgard for her entire life, has she not?”

 Mimir, peering over at the contents himself, clucked his tongue. “I wouldn’t think so, brother. The Var Goddesses have been endlessly persecuted by Odin over the centuries. I would know; he bragged about it quite fondly during our time together. He was very single minded about killing them all before they reached their full power.”

 “Huh?” Brok crossed his arms. “Whaddaya mean?”

 “The first Var goddess, some thousands of years ago, meddled in Odin’s affairs in Alfheim,” the head explained. His face contorted into one of deep thought, as if recalling the memories required him to delve into parts of his life that he was not to keen on reminiscing upon. “I only know this because I was there when it happened. Her name was Siv, and she was a Valkyrie—powerful, elusive, and angry. She… was not happy with some of the things he was doing, so she stepped in before things could go too far. In theory, anyway.”

 “The first?” Kratos rumbled. 

 “Aye, brother, the first. The Var goddesses go through a cycle of rebirth not unlike that of the phoenix, but it’s been so long that I’ve nearly forgotten how it came to be that way.” Mimir turned his gaze towards the book again. “But as I was saying, Siv intervened during one of Odin’s broken vows. The Var goddesses are not evil beings, you must know, and are more like—“

 “The peace keeper or executioner,” the god of war interrupted. “Atreus explained this to me.”

 “Yes well, that’s not exactly… correct.” Mimir hesitated. “It’s more along the lines of ‘if you break my vows, I will destroy your soul’. See, Odin was threatened by this—Siv could take a soul and dessicate it more thoroughly than any ounce of seidr I have ever seen. There would be no afterlife, no peace for them when she killed them. She was the bastardization of a Valkyrie and her sisters despised her for it.”

 Sindri’s brow furrowed. He sat down at the table, rolling a wire brush between his hands. “I didn’t know this part. Lady Var, she… explained she was bound by the oath and no other.”

 “And she was telling the truth, lad, as much as she could of it. I imagine Odin isn’t working on the full idea of things,” Mimir soothed. Kratos huffed. “Bound by oaths, yes, but only the ones she makes with herself or the ones she chooses to observe. If you could trap a Var goddess you would have a veritable power source in your hands; each of them has a special gift more different than the last. More special as the years go on and they are reborn into something new.” 

 Kratos lifted the book and stared at the charcoal drawing. Nothing discerning stood out to him except for the artistic rendition of the dress she wore. “And she is with Odin now.”

 “Bein’ married, yeah.” Brok lifted his cup of ale and saluted the air mockingly. “The All-Fucker knows he needs to keep ‘er there, so he binds ‘er up with marriage vows to Heimdall so she can’t leave.”

 “Oh dear.” Mimir’s eyes widened. “He’s marrying her to Heimdall?”

 “Yes, when she came here she had been crying, and had bruises around her throat,” Sindri explained softly. His gaze was far away, fixated on the stool across from him where you had sat previously, eating the food and drink they had given you with gusto. “She said he was not happy with the decision and blamed her for it.”

 “Bunch’a hogwash, the whole thing!” The blue dwarf slammed his drink down, sending droplets of alcohol flying into the air. “She ain’t done nothin’ to deserve this!”

 “In Odin’s mind, she very well may have. He despises those he can’t keep under his all-knowing thumb.” Mimir paused. “Though, lads, I don’t truly know how we can help her from here.”

 A silence seeped over the table, impenetrable. 

 “This… goddess,” Kratos began slowly,”she is powerful, yes?”

 “Dunno. Ain’t seen her in centuries until a week ago.” Brok shrugged. “But she was doin’ some mighty strong magic ‘fore Odin snatched ‘er up.”

 “As long as she doesn’t step on any toes, she’ll be alright, my friends. She’s survived in Asgard this long, right?”

 *** 

 Heimdall trudged alongside you in the light of dawn with a scowl on his face. That punch had silenced him for all of five seconds before you were walking off, fury in your step and a fine tremor in your fingers. Odin’s decision to have him supervise you was a foolish one, especially if he was going to open his mouth as he was and mock every little thing you did along the way to the beach—even stop to see the sunrise.

 “Move along, stupid girl, we have places to be. You can see the sunrise literally every day from oh, I don’t know, anywhere else.”

 You ignored him and watched as the sun peaked over the clouds. The cast of pale orange among the darkness was one of your favorite things to witness, present company not included. The little dragons snoozing on the roosts within the walls were beginning to wake, alerting the little folk to the rising of the sun and the dawn of a new day. The sunrise and sunsets in Vanaheim had been gorgeous, when Skoll and Hati would take to the sky and chase the sun and moon to their conclusions. The two wolves, the last you had heard, had been unable to complete the ritual since Odin had interfered with the altars some time ago.

 After a moment of reveling in Heimdall’s silent irritation, you entered the lift and allowed him to pull the lever to send the both of you down. You remained quiet, the knuckles of your fist still aching painfully in protest from hitting your now husband in the stomach. While he did not have the rotund belly of Thor or the sinewy musculature of Baldur, it still hurt quite a bit to hit him like that. Something in the spells on the collar was diluting some of the pain, to a degree, but when you flexed your fingers the sting came back full force.

 “Was it really necessary to hit me?”

 “Was it necessary to strangle me? Or walk out on me on our wedding night as you so expertly did. I was being pitied for days after that.”

 Heimdall deliberately avoided looking at you. “You did bite me. It was only fair, was it not?”

 “No.” The blandness in your tone forced him to look at you, then. He was mildly surprised to see you staring at him, but not completely—it was as if you were looking through him at to the sunset behind him. “I should have killed you and been done with it.”

 Something in those words made him uneasy. “Killing me would kill you, you’re aware? And you can no longer be reborn, little dog.”

 Yet your blank face remained. “Are you certain about that, gullintanni?  Would you like to put it to the test?”

 “I didn’t take you to be suicidal.”

 “That’s because I am not her.”

***

 “Brok, Sindri!” You called desperately. Yggdrasil twisted and turned endlessly, the flickering of your bodily form only momentarily hindered by the falling leaves. Each door that you passed seemed the same as the last, and you were running out of time—quickly. Leaving your body in Siv’s care had been a risk you hadn’t known you could take, but now that you had, you would do your best to warn your friends that you had been trapped more firmly than you could have anticipated. Your eyes flew to a familiar form sneaking among the branches. “Atreus!”

 He whirled around, but there was no one there. “Huh?”

 “Atreus!” 

 “Who’s there?”

 “It is I, the lady Var. I do not blame you for not remembering me, but I am running out of time. Please, listen!”

 His eyes flew to and fro, seeking your figure, but you were nowhere to be found. “How are you doing this?”

 “I have no time to explain. Tell them that Odin has bound me with the Collar of Repentance. Tell them that he has stopped my rebirth cycle. Tell them…” Your voice cracked. “Tell them that I can’t help them like I wanted to.”

 “Wait, what’s the Collar of Repentance? And what do you mean you can’t help us?!”

 “I’m sorry, Atreus.”

***

 “You’re not her,” Heimdall repeated slowly. Your eyes flickered gold, green, back to gold. “Then who are you?”

 A feral smile that was not typical of you crawled onto your face. “In time, son of Angeyja, Atla, Eistla, Eyrgjafa, Gjalp, Greip, Imðr, Jarnsaxa, and Ulfrún. In time. For now, I would enjoy the rest of the life you have left. My descendant may be bound, but I am not, nor will I ever be.”

 Heimdall stiffened at the mention of his mothers. “How do you know those names?”

 “The same way I know that you, above all, desire your father’s honest approval.” A shrug. Casually, the not-you reached behind you and pulled a shrieking green, crystalline bird from out of thin air. In one motion, your hand crushed the bird to dust, green powder lining the furs of your dress. “I’m inside you, now.”

 Before he could demand what she had meant by that—the not you—you blinked and, slowly, a confused expression stole across your face like a thief in the night. You reached up and rubbed your face with one hand, glancing around the lift. “What…?” It was soft.

 So you had been unaware of what happened, then. Heimdall narrowed his eyes as you shook your head, his gaze flying to the space that the green bird had been sitting harmlessly on the railing behind you. So the All-Father had seen it, too; but what could it have been?  What had possessed you in such a way? Whatever it had been, it made something new raise its head in the back of his mind—fear.

 You were violent, yes, but you were weak. Your only defense was having the advantage of his foresight not working on you. You had no magic, no future rebirth, only the ability to see vows and punish those who broke them. But the thing that had been behind your eyes… he had watched, felt, the power crawl out of your pores.

 It had felt like death, like darkness; a dying star.

 It had felt like annihilation.

 But now you were confused, docile, that hostile aura draining out of you to be replaced by something less… cruel. He watched the moment you realized something had happened, and your frown was more pronounced. But you did not say a word. Instead, you shook your head, rubbed your temple, and looked out among the wetlands with resignation in your eyes.

 It was something to keep an eye on. But now he had to keep his guard up, more than before; he could not mindlessly threaten you without risking whatever that had been happening again. You pulled your furs around yourself tightly, and he dismissed the thought. Father trusted him enough to keep watch over you and make sure you didn’t get in his way.

 “This way,” you said and stepped out of the lift, following a destination only you had in mind. He followed, his mind strangely quiet for once, and observed as your posture slumped and your walking grew less rigid. Outside the walls, you seemed to change—you were sullen, sulky. “Keep up.”

 And he did. Over the grasslands and streams, you led him to the shores of Asgard, where two children sat playing in the pale sand. They were young Midgardians, no older than ten or twelve years of age, and they fought each other with driftwood sticks and dirt.

 “Fight me, giant!” One boomed in an imitation of Thor. He waved the stick around as the God of Thunder would his hammer, making a face. “I will use Mjolnir and kill you where you stand!”

 The other child, a little girl, roared in defiance. “No! I, Ymir, will kill you, Aesir god!”

 Their sticks clacked together with childish skill. They moved up and down the beach, laughing and kicking up sand, and you watched with a small smile on your face as they played. The content of the things they were saying may have been dark, but they were happy—could you truly allow Ragnarok to snatch such happiness away from them? They would be Odin’s fodder, his shield against those who knew mercy and pity as a strength.

 You caught a wisp of Heimdall’s thoughts from where he stood some feet from you, leaning against a rock formation.

 … That is not how the story goes, stupid Midgardian children.

 But the story he knew was also inaccurate. You, however, too caught up in watching the children fight and play, did not stop to think too hard about the stories he had no doubt heard from Odin’s side. Instead, you watched the girl plop down into the sand, exhausted. The boy followed her willingly, tossing his stick into the water.

 “We have to do this every day, okay?” She said, sticking her arm out in offer. Her little face was screwed up in determination. “Until we get strong enough to get inside the walls. Together.”

 The boy nodded. “Right!”

 And so a promise was made. You watched the little white string blossom to life between them and observed until they eventually decided they had enough rest and moved further down the beach. Once they were well out of view, you stepped off the grass and into the sand, approaching the ocean cautiously.

 “What are you doing?” Heimdall demanded with a scowl. “You’ve observed whatever it was you came here for. Now we go back.”

 “Shut the Hel up.” You closed your eyes to the faint breeze wafting over the water. It brought you scents of salt, of rain and humidity and cold. “I have no intention of going back into those walls just for the rest of the Aesir to judge me for your wrongdoings.”

 His scowl deepened. “You are no extension of me.”

 “I agree.” You opened your eyes. The words came out unbidden. “You are a pathetic pantomime of your father. A fascimile of a god. You sit and stay, like a good boy, but I know it is only because he has no use for you other than to sit you up on that hideous wall and let you play protector. I wonder if you die, if he will ever mourn you as he did his little closer—Baldur. I think he would not.”

 “Shut your whore mouth.” Heimdall was quick to snatch you by the back of your neck, shifting his hand forward to grip your jaw. It popped threateningly under the pressure. You met his gaze without fear, feeling too bold in your words to ever allow him a victory. “You know nothing of my relationship with my father.”

 “I know enough.” You shrugged loosely. “Everyone knows how Odin sent his child up to the wall the moment he finished learning how to use his powers. The youngest child; the weakest, weaker than even the blind. Born from a fling of a union between Odin and your mothers because he could never honor them, never get over Freya. He’s a monster, and you… you are becoming just like him.”

 You stared at him, considering.

 “Odin doesn’t need another son… just another tool.”

 When you pulled away from him, he didn’t try to stop you. His hand dropped to his side as you walked away, the tiniest knot in your marriage vow unlinking. Doubt. It was small, but it was there, and even the smallest chips in the strongest wall would bring it crumbling down eventually. You would destroy his as he had destroyed yours.

 ‘Good,’ Siv spoke in your mind as you approached the lift some time later. Heimdall had not followed you, so you leaned against the railing to wait. ‘And now we begin.’

| next

taglist: @versiesleeps

[heimdallsbraids]

Blood of Mine | Ch. 1 (Heimdall x fem!reader)

Summary: Life is pretty simple. Survive the harsh conditions of Fimbulwinter in Midgard, trade with your dwarven friends in Svartalfheim and – avoid the shit out of Odin’s most loyal lapdog? If word reaches the All-Father about your blood-bending origins, you’re doomed… (Hints of Avatar: TLA, but not a crossover)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Profanity

Note: Hey all, heimdallsbraids here to present you with my first-ever attempt at a GOW fic! Heimdall, the little shit, successfully managed to drag me away from my Detroit: Become Human fic, and so here we are... I'm not all too well-versed in Norse mythology, so please forgive me if there are any mistakes. Without further ado, please enjoy!

Next chapter

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Chapter One: Unexpected Visitor

“Is this all you’ve got?”

You side-eyed the dwarf beside you like he’d spoken gibberish.

“What do you expect, Durl? Fimbulwinter’s rough out there.” You gestured to your snow-covered garments for good measure.

Durlin’s lips formed a thin line as he watched you drop unceremoniously onto his office chair, your legs folded up underneath you in a completely unladylike fashion. It was an odd quirk, but he’s since gotten used to it over the many years he’s known you.

“I know, I know. All I’m saying is that your loyal customers are going to be disappointed...”

“Well, sorry, but I only have one pair of arms to work with!”

He sighed at that, opting to ditch the rucksack of food you’d brought and join you on a chair of his own.

“Something on your mind, kid?” You drawled, taking the words right out of his mouth.

He gave you a look, “Well?”

“Ugh, you know how it goes.” You ran a hand down your face, expression tired. “It’s just – Dad’s gone on a bit of a bender again, and I don’t know if I can deal with it this time. It’s getting harder to manage the trade on my own, you know.”

That and it’s not what I want to do anymore, you carried on in your thoughts. You couldn’t leave him to fend for himself, however, despite the growing resentment you held towards him.

“You want me to send Lúnda over there? Straighten him out?”

You managed a half-smile at the thought of the heady female dwarf handing your father’s drunken ass to him. “Nah, I’m sure she’s got better stuff to do…”

He shrugged, lifting a tankard of mead you don’t remember him having to his lips. “Don’t say I didn’t ask.”

“Where the Hel did that come from?”

“What?”

“The drink? When...” You rolled your eyes after a small pause. “Dwarves.”

“Hey, none of that.”

“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.”

He chuckled as you proceeded to pet Dìnner, enjoying the amicable silence until the sun reached its peak outside. Though ridiculously muggy, it was a welcome change from the freezing cold weather of Midgard. Finally warm enough, you shrugged off your outer layers, leaving you in a plain white long-sleeved tunic, dark brown pants and your favourite pair of knee-high winter boots.

The front door creaking open behind you snapped out of your reverie. You went to turn, but Durlin practically leapt from his seat and grasped you by the shoulders with shaky hands, eyes wide with what seemed like apprehension.

This can’t be good…

“Hey, tell you what,” he laughed nervously. “Why don’t you go see your father, and I’ll send Lúnda over as soon as she returns.”

“I literally just got done telling you that I can’t deal with him.”

He wasn’t having it, however, and began dragging you from your seat to begin pushing you through the back door. The one that you hardly ever used.

“I’ll. Send. Lúnda.” He urged.

By now, you were more than confused and fumbling to gather your things. You weren’t ready to go home just yet. The previous hunting session was a long one, and it didn’t help that you nearly got jumped by a bunch of raiders parading the realm under the guise of 'protecting their kind'.

Right. Because attempting to mug your own kind is ‘protecting’ them so damn well.

An exaggerated cough reverberated throughout the room, stopping the two of you in your tracks. With your back still to the stranger, Durlin finally resorted to shooting you a pleading look.

“Tsk, tsk. Have you really become so uncultured that even a simple introduction is beneath you, dwarf?”

The rude comment had you turning on your heels instantly, brows furrowed in astonishment. It was safe to say the smooth voice certainly matched his appearance; tall, fair-skinned with braided dirty blond hair and an arrogant smirk adorning his begrudgingly handsome features. It was the glowing bifröst eyes that really stood out, though, and you immediately understood why your friend was so unsettled.

This was that asshole he’d told you about – the one that burned him as punishment for trying to rebel against the Aesir all those years ago. It was a sore subject for him and quite often the topic he revisited most when in a drunken stupor.

“Of course,” Durlin resigned, slowly making his way back to the centre of the room. He mumbled your name so quietly you almost didn’t hear him, but the asshole certainly did.

“Heimdall,” he offered, a little too proudly for your liking.

The God of Foresight and Surveillance, Herald of Ragnarök, and one of Odin’s many sons. You knew of him. From what you’ve heard and, frankly, could already tell, this guy had an ego the size of Asgard itself and was a giant pain in the ass to deal with.

“Pleasure,” you grit out, unable to hide your distaste.

To your dismay, your comment only served to widen that smirk of his, and he quickly encouraged the two of you to join him outside, most likely so he could actually stand upright. You were surprised he even entered in the first place, what with how tall he was. Nothing in comparison to many other gods you’d met, sure, but still enough to hinder smooth movement within a dwarf’s dwelling (not that you didn’t struggle with it yourself, but you were fairly smaller than him).

The three of you stepped out onto the street, and you glanced around, confused. The settlement was normally pretty busy around this time of day, with plenty of dwarves moving about to work on their current projects or open up stalls. Right now, however, it resembled a ghost town. Was this guy really that much trouble?

One glance at Durlin’s scarred head told you yes, he really was that much trouble.

Heimdall’s bifröst eyes once again landed on your form. His own distaste became increasingly evident as he observed your simplistic attire. It was a far cry from his own luxurious clothing, well-adorned in quality leather, armour, and a multitude of gold accents to boot. Not to mention, he looked like he’d had a full night’s rest, unlike yourself.

Soon enough, his eyes met yours, and you shuddered involuntarily at the strange pulling sensation tickling at the forefront of your mind. Was this what it felt like to have the god of foresight poking around up there? It wasn’t overly unpleasant, but it still irritated you. It reminded you of someone snooping through your diary without permission.

You clenched your fingers tightly, feeling your own powers rise in an attempt to guard yourself. You’re not entirely sure how it happened, but you felt it when his grasp slipped, denied from any attempt at getting a full read on you.

“What’s this?” He muttered, that obnoxious smirk fading into a frown.

One moment he was more than eight feet away, and now, your senses were overwhelmed as he invaded your personal space. His height hardly intimidated you, but you could feel the raw power emanating from his form as he glared down at you, growing more and more pissed off as he tried and failed to enter your mind once more.

He definitely didn’t like that.

“And just who are you exactly?” He seethed through golden teeth.

He grasped your wrist in a tight hold before you could step back, tugging you forward so that your chests were only a breadth apart. Durlin was stammering over his words somewhere behind you, attempting to quell the situation before it turned into anything more.

“I’m afraid you’re gonna have to be a little more specific than that.” You responded poorly. Where the hell your courage was coming from, you had idea.

His jaw tensed, “Must I dumb it down for you, filth?”

You so badly wanted to call him a name, too, but you weren’t that stupid. You knew you were already walking on mighty thin ice as it is, what with him being related to Odin and all. If the old codger caught wind of your true origins, you’d be screwed to Hel and back.

“I believe I was already introduced, Heimdall.” His hold finally loosened enough for you to wrench your arm back and create some much-needed space between the two of you. “Anyhow, I’m taking you up on your offer, Durl. Tell Lúnda she is more than welcome to stay for dinner.”

You shot one final glare to the Aesir god before leaving the pair of them to it. Even as you turned away, you knew he still regarded you with a sour expression on his face. If it weren’t for whatever business he was on, you were sure he would’ve kicked up more of a fuss, but you clearly weren’t his priority at the moment, and you were more than glad for it.

What a shitty day…

[takusan-no-ai]

Sparring Match

PAIRING: Freya x Male Reader, Kratos/Heimdall/Thor/Baldur x Female Reader (Romantic) (Separate)

SUMMARY: (Y/N), their crush, beats them in a sparring match.

Freya loves sparring with you since she sees it as a time to bond and help train each other. However, you always lose to her. You say it’s because she was the Valkyrie Queen, but she says it’s just bad luck.

Eventually you’ve had enough and plan out how to win against Freya by confessing your feelings to her. You even got help from her brother, Freyr, who gave you advice on how to be a “man worthy of Freya’s love” as he put it.

In your next sparring match, you used Freya’s mutual crush on you to your advantage. Flirting with her, playfully teasing her, making her lower her guard. All so that you can win against her and ask to be her boyfriend. Safe to say, Freya didn’t complain about losing to you.

If you instead win with pure strength, strategy, and willpower, Freya will be very impressed and congratulate you for your victory.

Even if you’re on par with Kratos, he will still hold back. The Ghost of Sparta wouldn’t dare go full out against you. This doesn’t mean that he lets you win; he wants you to be able to protect yourself.

There are two ways you can win, and one of them is quite cruel. You could pretend to be hurt by one of Kratos’ punches. This will cause him to frantically look over you for any injuries, and it will be your moment to overpower him.

Another way is to seduce Kratos. You’re an attractive woman and Kratos is very much in love with you. If you play your cards right you could trick him in a nicer way to lowering his guard, effectively giving you a chance to win.

If you instead win without playing tricks Kratos will momentarily congratulate you and then suggest that he up the challenging combat.

Heimdall is an obstacle not just anybody can overcome. He won’t go easy on anyone, not even you. The only difference is that he’ll humor you and won’t actively try to kill you.

No trick can work on Heimdall. If you have to think, then he’s already seen it coming. He won’t even give you the handicap of not reading your mind. You could try and seduce him, but it’s less likely to work since it won’t be a spur of the moment action; You’re a beautiful woman, but you’re also a scheming one, and he’s already prepared for that.

The only possible way you could defeat him is by going blank. Act purely on instinct, clear your mind, and let your body do the fighting on its own. Even better if you’re capable of fighting with your eyes closed.

If you beat Heimdall either with this strategy or just by fighting like you usually do he’ll congratulate you, but he’ll be a bit upset if you didn’t even do the mind blank strategy. It’ll cause him to think he’s losing his touch and convince him to train even harder.

Thor is incredibly strong; He even posed a challenge for Kratos. There is no doubt that unless you’re incredibly strong yourself Thor will have to hold back against you.

He doesn’t really care for sparring, he’s always kind of just been strong. But he’d rather up his chances of you becoming his girlfriend by getting closer to you than losing you to someone else.

Thor doesn’t mind giving you as many handicaps as you want. The fact that you’re capable of at least holding your own up to him means you’re already able to protect yourself good enough.

If you do beat him he’d opt to celebrate with a fun outing, just you and him. He might also consider confessing afterwards; seeing you best him made Thor fall in love all over again.

If Baldur hasn’t been cured of his curse then you’re going to have to “kill” him in order for it to count, since he can’t feel anything. This is the handicap he gives you, which he will boldly state is because he loves you.

And if Baldur has been cured then all you need to do is win in a normal spar against him. However, in both of these situations you’d have to be really strong to take him since Baldur doesn’t really know his own strength.

This doesn’t mean that he won’t try his hardest to hold back though. He’d even give you some minutes to get as many hits as you want in. As he puts it, “I don’t want my lady to struggle against me.”

In the event that you do defeat Baldur, wether it was with the handicaps or none at all, curse or not, he’d be very impressed since he’s still quite strong. He will once again confess his love for you and go on and on about how strong you are.

- Fin

[pascaloverx]

THOR MASTERLIST

© credits for the owners of the pictures used. they don't belong to me. credit is not mine for the pictures.

AO3 LINK

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE (+18)

CHAPTER SIX (+18)

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT (18+)

CHAPTER NINE

[nexysworld]

I loved music to my ears so much, and I had an request for the second one if you’re interested. Just the thought of her rocking up to save Freyr with Heimdall is hilarious, everyone is wide eyed like “what did I miss??” She’s just walking around like it’s normal with her visions guard dog trailing behind her.

So sorry for the delay on this! I love this idea! <3 Don't know if this is exactly what you had in mind but here we go! For those who are new this is a continuation to my Oneshot with Heimdall x Fem!Reader which can be found here. (PS sorry for any mistakes I cranked this out in one sitting directly in Tumblr instead of using docs. )

Read on AO3 🖤 Requests are Open 🖤 Fic/Request Master List

Gulltoppr trotted along at an even pace, shifting you from side to side as he moved forward through the humid environment of Vanaheim. You heard an audible sigh from Heimdall behind you. "Annoying pests." He sneered before hopping off the massive beast. You turned to look at him with a confused brow raised, there'd been no one for a while now despite the sound of fighting in the distance. Heimdall smacked Gulltoppr's back leg sending the beast running, nearly throwing you off, you had to hold on extra tight to the front of the saddle to keep your bearings. "Heimdall!" You dared to only look back once as a group of enemies surrounded him seemingly out of nowhere. Heimdall was strong, no one had ever been able to touch him in battle before, that still didn't stop the bubble of nervousness forming in your core as he began to disappear with the distance. All you could do now was focus on the direction ahead of you, after Gulltoppr's panic eased, you were able to grab the reins and slow him down a bit. While you'd never commanded such a beast before you assumed it at least had to be a bit similar to riding a horse, luckily for you, you were right. The sound of fighting became louder and louder almost rumbling in your ears, you knew you were going the right way. Quickly the scenery changed from the muddy footpaths to a large stone building, you tossed the reins speeding the beast up desperate to get closer to your allies,. Soon you saw the outline of Atreus, nearly running him down with the horned lion, you quickly yanked the reins causing the poor beast had to nearly skid to a stop. Freya and Kratos were close by tending to a wounded looking Freyr. All four of them turned to look over, hearing the noise. It was something straight out of a comedy really. Freya, Freyr, and Atreus were all slack jawed at your appearance. Kratos stood with his usual straight face, but even you thought you saw a twinge of something else there. "That's Gulltoppr." Atreus said it as though it was an unknown fact to you. He circled the beast confused. "But . . . I don't see Heimdall?" Freya and Kratos looked at each other then back to you. They weren't speaking but their thoughts were clear. They were in disbelief, Heimdall trusted his steed to no one, which could only mean that he was defeated in battle, though it was unthinkable that you of all people could have done so. Kratos may not have known Heimdall personally, but he knew the stories. Even Freyr managed to get a solid 'what the fuck' look out towards you. At this moment you were regretting not having told your friends about your relationship with the Golden God. Too little too late for that now. "Hey I know what you're all thinking. But that's not the case." You put your hands up defensively and let out a dry laugh. "Look I can explain, I swear, but there's not really any time for stories right now. Suffice it to say that Heimdall and I are . . . close."

The confused look on their faces didn't change. "Heimdall isn't capable of being close to anyone that isn't his Daddy, Lass." Mimir chimed in. 

You heard a familiar voice behind  you. "Tch, shows what you know you old goat. Sunshine, you never told them about me? I am truly wounded, are you ashamed of me? Ashamed of our lovemaking?"

You would have been relieved to know he was alive and okay, but all you felt was embarrassment as heat rushed to your face. Freyr let out a chortled laugh mixed with pain. "No fucking way!"

Heimdall leaned against Gulltoppr's side looking over at the crew.  "Let's see, useless little half breed. Check. Queen Mistletoe. Check. Sizzles. Check. Traitorous old goat? Check. Oh and the empty headed brute must be the half breed's father. Great."

Atreus couldn't help but let out a small laugh, sure Heimdall was an asshole, but he could be funny. Kratos shot the boy a look and Atreus did his best to straighten his face to a neutral look again. 

"This is seriously all you have to try and take down the All-Father? Pathetic, truly pathetic Frigg." He shook his head before looking up at you. "You owe me big time for this Sunshine, you know that."  

"I'll owe you for a lifetime." You said softly looking down at him. 

Kratos called what could only be considered a team huddle with Atreus, Freya, Freyr, and Mimir. 

"How do we know we can trust him? How do we know we can even trust her, she never told us of her affiliation with Heimdall." Freya asked. 

"I'm just shocked Heimdall can get laid. Do you think he pulls the stick out of his ass each time or leaves it in?" Freyr joked. Mimir and Atreus laughed, the remaining two not so amused.  

"In all seriousness, Heimdall is Odin's lapdog, he'd never betray the All-Father--" Mimir was cutoff by the sound of Heimdall's voice. 

"You know I can hear you right, I can even hear your thoughts before you say them. And by the GODS your lot is quite honestly the most predictable boring set of people I have ever had the displeasure of listening to." Heimdall added from afar before walking over to them. 

"For your information, I am not his 'lap dog.' I aim to protect Asgard, and as I see things right now if I allow the prophecy of Ragnarok to come true as is written, Asgard will fall with Odin. I will not allow that, it is my job to protect my realm and my people. In addition, no harm comes to my Sunshine, the next person who even thinks of launching an arrow at her or accuses her of being a traitor, ahem Frigg, I'll gut you like a fish and hang your body outside Himinbjorg as a trophy."

Heimdall turned and looked into the open night distracted by something before he side stepped a fire-arrow. "Slow down." He said grabbing Freyr up off the ground and walked back over, slinging him up over Gulltoppr and tied him to the saddle. Time turned back to normal. 

"I swear by the Norns if you hurt him." Freya threatened. Kratos put a hand on her shoulder to prevent her from moving. 

"No time to argue now Frigg, unless all of you want to die." Heimdall hopped into his usual spot on the saddle behind you taking the reins. "Hold on tight Sunshine." He kicked Gulltoppr into gear and took off into the night.  Freyr bounced on the back of Gulltoppr and groaned each time his injured leg pulsed with pain. Heimdall never allowed to beast to slow down as they weaved in and out of enemies, jumped over logs and rocks, and barreled through the woods. 

He finally stopped at the bank of the water, giving the rest of the group time to catch up. It was clear they were out of breath and enemies were in toe. Freyr wriggled a bit before grabbing the little paper boat he had attached to his hip, throwing it into the water. 

You were astounded at how it grew into size. "Neat little trick Sizzles." The second the crew managed to flop themselves into the boat, Heimdall took off again. Following the boat as it flew through the water, you had expected Heimdall to stop once you saw that the mountain tapered off into a waterfall. Your stomach dropped when Gulltoppr leapt off the ground, when there was no feeling of falling you opened one eye, and then the other. You were in the air, the boat flying next to you. “Gulltoppr can fly?” “Of course he can.” Heimdall said with a scoff, like it was something you should’ve expected already. 

Once the closest gate came into view, the group passed through it quickly, walking by the world tree and out the other end to the opening of Sindri’s home. Freyr was quickly brought inside so Freya could heal him. Heimdall helped you off of Gulltoppr and titled your chin up to look at him. “They ARE idiots.” He said firmly. You couldn’t help but let out a chuckle. He leaned down to kiss you, and you wrapped your arms around him, happy to be on safe solid ground again. Meanwhile you had an audience of people staring out of the windows watching you. “It’s like watching a buildin’ on fire. Horrible to see but you just can’t look away.” Brok said.

 “Is that really Heimdall?” Tyr asked crouching to see through the window. “Fuckin’ weird, right?” Added Freyr.

“I. Can. Hear. You.” Heimdall said, whipping around to glare at them. You rubbed your temple feeling an oncoming headache. You hoped Ragnarok would come soon, you had sorely underestimated how…dysfunctional this alliance might be. But at least he was here with you now, and that’s all you needed.