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kxsalt · 3 days

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“Our liege will take her tea in her chambers today.” Alone in the kitchen, the young maid is surprised to hear his voice behind her. The man moves quietly for his size. She turns to look up at the bodyguard. All she can manage is a weak nod of acknowledgement. His eyes bore into the nervous lady.

The maid quivers as his hands reach out towards her. He grips her tie. One hand gently holds the knot, tightening it up close to her neck. “Ensure that your dress is proper. Etiquette is discipline.” She whimpers and nods as he adjusts her clothes. Passing through the kitchen, he continues his rounds. Droplets of water fall from the kettle.

“Besides, that makes it even more interesting to me.” The princess’s voice. Pushing the large doors closed with her round bum, the maid brings a tray of tea and biscuits. “My advice is to go slow. Warm up to it with time.” Her bodyguard counsels. “You always advise caution.” She chirps back. “And you love to rush, princess.”

The servant girl nervously pours the tea, praying that she doesn’t overhear anything she shouldn’t. “I’m not as fragile as I look.” The princess eyes the bent over maid as she talks. “Believe me, I know that better than anyone. But I wouldn’t be fulfilling my oath if I was careless with you.” She takes the teacup from the trembling girl. A sip. The conversation lingers as the maid waits to be dismissed.

“Show me. Just so I can get an idea of what it would be like.” The noblewoman takes another casual sip. “On her.” Confused, the maid looks between the two figures. One large, the other small, both intimidating. The bodyguard sighs and steps over to the maid. Gripping her tie for the second time that day, he pulls up the hem of her uniform. The girl’s bare ass exposed, she panics and tries to push away.

Men his own size can’t escape his hold. The young maid has no chance. He drops her to the ground in one smooth movement, catching her just before she strikes the floor. On her knees, he holds the scruff of her neck. Her panties are pulled down. The bodyguard opens his belt, spits on his hand, and smears the tip of his cock. The servant squirms helplessly.

“Easy, little one. It’ll be over soon.” The man whispers in her ear as he pushes his cock against her hole. She bites her lip and whimpers. The tip slips upwards as her eyes widen. His huge hand covers her mouth. A muffled scream as he forces his cock into her ass.

Slowly, he starts to rock his hips back and forth. The maid shakes and smacks the marble floor with her palm. She lets out a faint sob as he removes his hand from her face. Posturing upright, he spits again, letting it run where her open asshole and his cock meet. The bodyguard thrusts into the tight girl, working a bit more in each time.

“You’re being too nice.” The princess dips a biscuit into her tea. The order is implied. Grabbing onto the girl’s shoulders, the man starts to pound her ass. Horrified and overwhelmed, the maid covers her own mouth. “Is she tight? Does she feel good?” The regal woman teases. He grumbles, methodically breaking in the servant. “Yes, princess. She’s good.”

“I want to see. Bring her closer.” The bodyguard drags the girl across the smooth floor. Picking her up, he turns to face the noblewoman. He pulls open her shirt, revealing her tits. The tie is held like a leash. Her legs are pulled wide open. The princess smiles and sips her tea as she watches the giant fuck the maid’s tiny asshole. A single droplet falls from her pussy as the man bounces her bum on his dick.

The maid’s legs give out. He holds onto her hips. Hanging from his hands, bent over at the waist, he ruthlessly uses her ass. A few savage grunts join the sounds of fucking as he cums inside her. The bodyguard exhales and gently lowers her to the floor. When his cock pops out, a stream of his cum runs from her hole and splatters onto the floor.

Crumpled on the ground, she hyperventilates. The princess takes the last sip of her tea and places it on the tray. “Very good. You’re dismissed, maid.” She gestures at the dishes. “Just clean up before you go.” The girl’s head hangs low as she struggles to stand. More cum runs down her leg. She reaches out to take the cups.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” A wicked smile. “I said clean up.” The princess points at the mess on the marble floor. The bodyguard looms over her. Not lifting her head, the maid takes a cloth and kneels on the ground. She wipes away the cum. Searching the white marble, she finds another puddle between her legs. A droplet falls and splashes. She wipes that away, too.

“Fix your uniform.” The man orders. “Etiquette, remember?” Dazed, the girl looks down at her body. Panties hanging off her thighs, dress pulled up above her hips, shirt open and breasts out. A tear stains her blouse as she fixes her disheveled clothes. “That didn’t seem so bad. If the help can do it, I’m sure I could.” The couple watches her as she corrects herself. She feels their eyes.

“This one liked it. Usually, a girl would fight back more.” The maid curtsies and grabs the tray, desperate to leave. Her blood freezes as the bodyguard steps forward again. She can’t bring herself to look at him. His hands hold her tie and tighten the knot against her throat. “She did well. Good discipline. I like that.”

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milksuu · 2 years

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'Maid' in Heaven | Hiccup x Reader | Part 6

Pairings: Hiccup 'Horrendous’ Haddock III x fem!servant!reader

Chapter Content/Warnings: minor angst and fluff

Summary: After a hostile raid from The Hairy Hooligan Tribe, you were captured and forced into indentured servitude at a young age. Luckily, the God’s had blessed you to be the household thrall of the Haddock family; to serve your kind young Lord, Hiccup ‘Horrendous’ Haddock III. Oh Thor, what to do?

an: thank you for waiting! unfortunately, due to linking my ao3 on my master post, tumblr has hid all the linked parts before this + my masterlist (sad face). please click on the 'maid in heaven' tag for previous chapters, or view the pinned masterlist post on my blog. again, thank you to anyone whose taken the time to read, comment, like, and reblog! they make me so happy and motivated. any love is much appreciated.

There was a great discussion had within the Haddock residence later that evening. Supper was served at the single table, near to the crackling fire, and blazing with conversation about various topics. The first one attended to was the matter related to the unmissed trial of your questionable innocence. From the guilt that hung like a grey cloud above your head, Stoick sought to investigate the actual truth of the matter.

Hiccup spoke on your behalf. There were some truths, possible half-truths, and perhaps a frilly white lie in between. Whether Stoick believed the lipped wit of his son or not made no difference. The Chief’s admonishing response showed a mind already made. And the folk lesson long prevailed: it paid very little to argue with stone.

“I can’t have any more mishaps, regardless of whose fault,” Stoick said with a fistful of torn meat. “Our people are on edge, and for well enough reasons. And I’m not about to let one loose sheep, or another, cause further unrest. Do you both understand?”

From your standing spot at the end of the table, a cinch of fault tightened your waistline. You bobbed your head and, with fingers coiled around the handle of a water pitcher, mouthed the word with a strained breath. Your attention crossed the table, catching your young Lord’s pinched features of rebellious reluctance. When your gaze met, you angled a chin and spoke through batted lashes for him to oblige. The request sent his eyes rolling backwards. Luckily, you didn’t need to pray for his life. To your relief, his father was too preoccupied with his plate to notice.

“Understood,” he said, and took a reproachful sip of his drink. You assumed he’d done so to keep him from taking back the word.

“Good,” Stoick said with a satisfied grumble. “Tomorrow you’ll join me to pay a visit to the farmsteads. We’ll be needing a count of all the livestock and expected yield of crops before Winter. Consider the numbers for rationing. Always best to prepare for the worst.”

“Sure, doomsday prepping sounds like fun,” he said with a lop-sided pin of his lips. “But I was thinking, after we’re done counting with our fingers and toes, you’d talk with me and Gobber. We have some ideas to export new saddles.”

Stoick nodded and spoke in a tone of allowance rather than agreement. “Time will be made tomorrow, then.”

The table quieted to small-talk, clinking tableware, and requests for another pour from your pitcher. When Stoick finished, he wiped his mouth clean with his fingers, and announced his retirement for the night. When the mass of his form disappeared beyond the aching stairs, you fetched yourself to attend the mess.

“Let me help you,” he said, taking a few hurried bites and tossing the cooked tail end of his fish to Toothless. He barely swallowed when he stood. “I just finished.”

“Although I’m grateful for your offer, I must decline you,” you said and seized his plate before he could. “You’ve done enough for me today, Lord Haddock. I’m sure the least I can do in return is my own job.”

“I don’t think there should be a limit for helping anyone,” he said rationally, “unless you think I’m wrong?”

“I think you’ll end up causing more trouble for yourself,” you punctuated your words with the lift of your nose. “Make no mistake. The road to Hel is paved with good-intentions. I don’t wish for you to end up there, of all people.”

He chuckled with a shake of his head. “Does that mean I’ll be in trouble with you?”

“Not me.” You wiggled a finger in front of your nose. “But your father—no, worse yet—an entire village. I'm afraid your father's right. The scorn of a single man is enough to give courage to his like-minded neighbors.”

“If anything else happens, I’ll take care of it,” he said indulgently.

“That is exactly my point. I don’t want for something else to happen, and for you to have to do anything about it. You’ve worked too hard for your good reputation to be ruined. How could I ever sleep at night, knowing I should be the reason to have it questioned?”

“You like to worry more about my reputation than I do. At the end of the day, I just do what I think is right. Even if that means upsetting a few people who probably don't agree with me. Besides,” he fought to dismiss the quarrel with a boyish grin. “I’ve heard Hel has nice warm weather all year round. Wouldn’t mind paying a visit sometime. And who knows? Maybe I’ll be Chief there instead.”

“There you go again with your jests,” you muttered, digging your nails into the dish. “Ignoring every bit of my concerns for you. But what does what I think matter? I suppose it doesn’t. I’m only a servant, after all. Nothing about me deserves a second thought of consideration.”

“Come on, it’s not like that,” his eyes softened, cupping your tense hands.

The agonizing brush of his touch loosened your hold on the clay dish. It collided with the wood below, breaking into unmendable parts at your feet. You paled, bending to clean up your recklessness. Your Lord motioned to join and you thrusted a curt hand to stop him. “Don’t—” you choked on the shame. “Please, my Lord. This… this is all I have. If you respect me at all, then you’ll let me do it myself.”

“I’m sorry.” With pained regard, he placed a single broken chip in your palm and rose to take his leave. “I won’t bother you anymore.”

He swept up the stairs, beckoning Toothless to follow. When the door of his bedchamber closed, you shut your eyes against a wave of remorse. Gods, you wished it would drown you. Perhaps then, the regret would no longer be tangible. You drew in a quivered breath, wishing to pick up more than the shattered fragments of a mere plate.

When morning came, you stood beside yourself, looking solemnly at the same dress and apron spread out on your cot. The same dull white smock, same plain brown kirtle, and the same serviceable apron. Stiff and ugly, you thought. All these same things punctuated how perfectly unpleasant you were on the inside. The display of your behavior the prior evening brought a taste of black licorice, which not even lye soap could rinse from your mouth. For your Lord’s sake, it would’ve served him to cut out your tongue with one of the sharper pieces of platter.

Even if deserved, there was never a sliver of imagination to conjure this—his kindness made no room for unbearable thoughts.

⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ✿ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹

When the morning chores were completed without a word and, without complaint, you set off to the docks. With your new piece in tow, you trailed down the trodden path to a landscape filled with thatched roofs, until the hill steeped with long fisherman houses laden with crates of tackle and bait.

“My, my, little miss! Seems fate and fortune have brought us to trade once again.” Johann raised his hands to indulge the sky, descending the boat ramp. “I take it you’re faring well, even after yesterday’s dire tribulations. Oh, you should have been there to witness it—Master Hiccup was positively vexed when he landed on my ship and requested for my immediate aid. Why, I had never seen him in such a state! Made me believe ‘twas a matter of life and death. Thank the stars it was not the latter of the two.”

This information did you no favors. It further troubled your features, tense and painted with dismal lines of fault. When strings of thankfulness for his help sprang from your lips, they resonated more as apologies. “I’m sorry—truly, I am. I hate to be more trouble than I’m worth.”

“Now, now, my dear. Let’s not sit idle in the past and wallow in it like a cold bath,” he dismissed it, beckoning you closer with his hands. “Let’s get on with business, shall we?”

“Of course.” You swallowed the hot lump in your throat, extending your tapestry.

“Absolutely remarkable,” Johann yammered on when he took the fabric. He twiddled with the coins in his hands before giving them to you. “This reminds me! Oh, you must listen to this. Whilst journeying from one trading dock to another, I came upon the most curious and wealthy buyer. So enraptured by your work, they were compelled for me to have a good word with you. They have offered quite an exuberant amount of coin for a commissioned piece, should you accept.”

“May I ask who this person is?”

“The buyer has chosen to remain anonymous for the time being. I’m a respectable tradesman, and not inclined to give out customer details should it be personally requested of me not to do so. I assure you, I have a keen eye for scoundrels. This buyer is anything but.”

“It sounds like a gracious opportunity,” you trailed off, fiddling with the scant coins in your apron pocket. With someone of your luck, or rather misfortune, certain things were too good to be true. “May I think it over?”

“By all means,” Johann said. “We’ll remain in touch. I shall send a letter by mail tomorrow and eagerly wait for your response.”

A response would have to wait. Your mind wandered to the more pressing matters of keeping yourself in your young master’s good graces. How could you think of anything else when your conscience pricked at you insistently? There was only one remedy for this, and it was a whimsied gesture from childhood—surely, he would remember the meaning.

Picking up your feet, you scampered upward from the spindly dirt paths to pebbled roads. With allowance in hand, you passed through the open market, pinching your way to purchase the sweetest apple from a cart. You paid no mind to a flock of young women whispering curiously about you. The business of gossip would exist whether or not you gave credit to it. There wasn’t a need to give the webs spinning from their mouths any attention. You imagined being a curious fly was very tiresome.

You came up to the Blacksmith, clanking with sounds of clashing metal, and pluming with smoke from the forge. From the open stall window, you rapped against the wood. When nothing but hammer to iron responded, you insisted with more egregious thumping. “Get outta the way, Grump!” A guttural curse or two struck the air. After a stumbling moment, Gobber’s rotund frame hobbled to view.

“Quit ye’r knockin’, I’ll be right there.” Gobber poked his eyebrows up at your small face peeking through the window. He cleared the indignation from his throat. “Sorry, lass. Didn’t expect ye’w of all people to stop by. What can I do for ya’h?”

With a woeful face, you placed the apple on the counter.

“The ol’ apology apple, eh?” He said with a scratch of his furrowed brow. “Can’t say I understand it myself, but the two of ye’w always had a way of managing. I’ll be sure ta’h give it to the lad when I see ‘em.”

“Thank you ever so much.” You dipped your chin, turning to take leave.

“Hiccup’ll forgive ya’h,” he called out with sympathy. “Always does.”

Hope fluttered your heart, and you thanked the man twice over.

Whisking back to the Haddock Residence, you took out your nerves in the form of extra sweeping and dusting. You did so until you were choking on the splinters raised from the floorboards. With your habit of carrying on with meaningless distractions, you hadn’t noticed the afternoon light spilling from the open window. You lamented on the time and hurried to simmer a pot of stew over the kindling hearth.

A wind danced inside, grazing the back of your neck. A delicate reminder to shut the window before the cool of night waltzed in unannounced.

You turned and spotted a sheen of red gleaming by sunset hue on the sill. When you went to greet it, you picked up the plump portion of a half eaten apple. You pressed a smile to the remaining flesh of it. Taking your own bite, you sighed against the burst of sweetness. The taste of licorice no longer soured your lips.

You leaned into the cheerful air, enriched with slopes of green and spiced with a dusky glow. And as if the breeze could carry words, you spoke:

“I’m glad we’re still friends.”

Reconciliation was a word you hadn’t thought of tasting so sweet.

#hiccup x reader #httyd #how to train your dragon #hiccup horrendous haddock lll #httyd fanfiction #httyd rtte #fanfiction #y/n #hiccup httyd #httyd x reader #maid in heaven

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