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#viking reader
classywitchunknown · 13 days
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Imagine being the 7th child of Ragnar, and as a baby, you couldn't sleep without at least 3 of your brothers in the room.
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dante-mightdie · 27 days
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i read somewhere that vikings used to gift new brides kittens and immediately thought of viking!simon and a little kitten
big man with small animal? absolutely yes i’m ovulating
c/w: none
you cannot and will not tell me that he will not pick the scrunkliest kitten known to man. little black scruffy thing tucked into his palms and he just puts it in your lap the day after your wedding. mumbles something about tradition before skulking off
he expects you to dump the thing on someone else, not even give little scruff a name. but to his surprise you’re absolutely in love with this little ball of fur. you don’t go anywhere without it, fashioning a little collar for it and speaking to it as if it were your own child
he doesn’t expect you to be in tears when you tell him that the cat didn’t come home last night :( that you’re worried a wolf got to it and you just miss your baby!
huffs and puffs as he hunts around the dark forest, looking for a kitten who may as well be invisible. breathes a sigh of relief when he finds the thing handing on a tree branch. he’d grab it by the scruff before beginning his trek back home,
“ya gave your mum a right scare. don’t do that again.” he’d grunt to the cat who just meows right back at him, tail swishing in the air
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ghouljams · 22 days
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Genuinely cant stop thinking about Viking!Ghost... like you know he's pining after you, you can see the softness in his eyes when he looks at you, the way his gaze follows after you. He left you his cloak, sewed the fang you gave him into his leather, and went out of his way to see you before he left for the last excursion. You tend to keep to yourself, never really thought of family or husbands until he started coming around. Now all the excitement with your friend having her baby left you wanting, left you thinking of the giant Viking that's so often darkened your doorstep. He'd make pretty babies. You don't need to see his face to know it.
But he dances around you, he steps back when you try to step forward. He leaves when you threaten to get too close. And you- you find yourself shying away from the gentleness in his voice. Find your cheeks warm and your voice unsure when he reaches a hand to brush dirt off your cheek, when he adjusts his oversized cloak around your shoulders. His eyes always hold a warmth you've never found in another person, he's careful with you despite his size and it sends your head spinning. You've never been shy a day in your life, but for him... You see the wolf's fang on his leather and look away to cover your smile. He caries you around the world, but he hardly speaks a word to you. It makes your heart flutter.
You thought it would be harder to convince him to come in, to stay for dinner. He casts an unsure glance over his shoulder, watches the setting sun before nodding. You find yourself stalling when he pulls his mask off. Blond hair and honey colored eyes, your hands slip on the edge of the table when you lean to get a closer look. No one has ever called you proper, but it makes the lines around his eyes crease. Ghost pulls you onto his lap so eagerly, doesn't shy away from the fingers that trace over his cheeks, that sweep over the scars and his carefully closed eyes. You study him with such rapt fascination, and he leans into your touch.
You've never seen such a clean shaven Viking. It cuts his features so much more clearly, the lines of his mouth the hollow of his cheeks. He needs someone to feed him properly, you think. A good reason for you to keep him as your own. You mouth along his jaw, dragging your tongue over the shadow of a beard he keeps so neatly trimmed. Ghost's fingers tighten on your hips, dragging you against his swiftly hardening cock. He tips his head back following the dominion of your shadow as you straighten your back and lean against his broad chest. There's just a ring of gold when he opens his eyes, his iris eaten away by his pupils at the barest of your attentions.
He looks at you like you've seen the Völva look at the stars, with some understanding you'd never hope to gain. Eyes that have seen the gods. His lips part and you kiss him to hide the tremor in your resolve.
You don't feel quite so much like you're taking advantage of the man's kindness when your face is buried in the blankets, moans ripped from your throat as he pins you down and fucks you. Each hard thrust of his fat cock punching a new sound from your chest, lost in the mattress and furs until his hand wraps around your throat to pull you up. His lips find your temple, the shell of your ear, his breath panting against your cheek as he fucks his come into you. He pulls you up, lifts you to sit on his thick thighs as he pushes his cock into your sensitive cunt. The hand not holding your throat, keeping your head against his shoulder, spreads wide over your stomach. He rubs his thumb over the soft skin, squeezes you like a promise. Like he could keep you wrapped up with him for the rest of your life.
You blink tears away, each thrust using your own weight against you, forcing you to take him deeper until your legs shake from the tight heat of it. His tongue drags along the fresh bite on your shoulder, the edges of it red and throbbing, perfect impressions of his teeth. You flinch at the wet slip of blood, at the groan that seems to wreck itself on Ghost's vocal cords.
"Ride my cock love," his bloodies lips mumble against your ear, "show me how bad you want it and I'll keep you nice and full."
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fragileheartbeats · 1 month
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"He's not good for yo-"
YES! but have you seen his eyes???
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kurogxrix · 6 months
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Stomach Empty, Heart Full
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Viking!Bucky x Wife!reader
IN WHICH you’re sick and refuse to eat, but it’s nothing that your beefy husband Bucky can’t help with.
WC: 2.5k
Warnings: vague mentions of smut, mentions of puke, beefy!bucky, INACCURATE VIKING UNITS, pregnancy(?).
A/N: my mom is the BIGGEST viking fan and yet idk anything abt em so…yes everything about this is inaccurate. From their beds to their huts but it’s fiction so who CARES.
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A huge campfire was bustling outside your hut, that you knew. The sounds of men and women alongside their noisy children made the headache currently gnawing at your head just about 10 times worse. You’d been lying sick since this morning and if you were being honest with yourself, all you craved was for a good sip of water alongside the company of your dear husband. 
Talking of, Bucky had been gone for far too long now. Even though he’d just gone on his regular routine as a fellow warrior, it helped that they’d only gone out to hunt that morning. 
You suddenly winced as the high pitched wail of a kid adventuring far too close to your hut breached your ear drums, and from the thud that you’d heard a split second before, he’d taken a nasty fall to himself. It didn’t help that his father had chosen the front of your hut opening to reprimand his son, the headache feeling like it would burst out from your head and carve a hole through your skin at any moment now. 
You couldn’t tell what sort of sickness you’d picked up on, but hell if you wouldn’t give up anything in your possession in that instant for an ounce of relief. Your stomach yelled at you for food, but the ache in your head only increased the growing nausea that came with your illness. You were sure that once you’d be healed and back on your feet, you’d kill whichever scum had passed on their bug to you. 
Comfort only came as you curled over yourself, soft blankets warming you, the stitches and patches of soft furs from all sorts of animals that Bucky had hunted and skinned for you. You missed your husband so, so much more in your sick haze. Your eyes finally started to droop as you felt your body giving in to slumber, which was hard prior to the insane pounding at the far back of your head.  
It didn’t take long for your vision to darken, your rumbling stomach being the furthest of your worries as a faint smile overtook your features as you felt the headache begin to dissipate as sleep pulled you in its arms. You could almost taste it, the sweet and victorious taste of relief, when- 
“You are not joining us tonight?” And there it was, the pounding in your head almost immediately punched back to life at the loud sound of whoever that was that had breached your hut. You groaned in dismay, turning around reluctantly to find your sister looking at you in confusion. It didn’t help with the fact that she was your sibling, but at that instant you wanted nothing more than to rip her hairs straight from the root and craft yourself a rag doll with them out of spite. 
“Get out.” you mumbled before rolling back, not missing the way her eyebrows furrowed at your rudeness. You’d treat her a little better if you felt a little better, but you didn’t, and to add to that the only person that you wanted with you right now was probably fighting off whatever beast was hiding in the forest. 
She did, however, listen to you for what felt like the first time in your entire life as sisters. A content sigh left your lips at the newfound silence, as silent as it could be with a meal in preparation happening outside. Finally, you felt the warm arms of slumber welcoming you again in the embrace that you seeked so much, and it felt a little too good to be true. Maybe because you had a knack for jinxing yourself, but the sound of the hut door creaking again had you close to tears. 
The sound of metal colliding against the floor however, gave you a brief idea that it was in fact not your sister. You didn’t have it in you to greet your husband, instead choosing to wallow in your pain as you held yourself like a dying child. You didn’t hear much from Bucky but the rustling of something that sounded big and meaty, probably a catch that he’d brought home to skin later. 
On his side, Bucky was confused as to why you weren’t outside with the other people. It wasn’t that you didn’t know that the feast had arrived, and if you’d fallen asleep, the doubling in noise would’ve surely awakened even the deafest foe. He contemplated waking you up before his blue eyes fell upon the bucket of water by the door, as full as it was before he’d left home that morning.
With his eyebrow furrowed, Bucky kneeled beside you in all of his silence. You could hear the trinkets attached to his belt clanking against one another, his booted feet causing a heavy thud against the floor. 
“You haven’t drunk, you haven’t eaten.” he stated as a matter of fact, and your undying silence threw him off. He’d been your husband long enough to know that you weren’t sleeping, eyelids shut as a decoy more than anything. The beefy brunette sighed at your actions, eyes flickering between the  abandoned wooden plate that harboured his food, waiting for him in all of its loneliness. The cut of meat had his mouth salivating for a taste, after all he had been gone all day to bring back food for his people, why shouldn’t he enjoy it? 
Yet, he just couldn’t get himself to as he eyed your curled figure. There must’ve been a reason why you hadn’t bothered to take care of yourself today, of course there must’ve been one, and as your husband - it was all the more his duty to care for you. There was no resentment or obligations in his actions, only love. 
One of Bucky’s palms slid under your cheek, disconnecting your face from its warm place upon the layers of furs. You whined in dismay, but Bucky didn’t falter. His huge palm covered half of your face, his thumb rubbing at your cheek with inclination. You felt your body relax once more as he slowly let go, as much as you’d normally complain, this time you felt happy as your cheek made contact with the blanket once more. 
Your peace didn't last long, not when you had a burly husband who had enough force to take down a 300 pound beast on his own. You gasped suddenly as you felt his arms wrapping themselves around you, before pulling you into the warmth of a familiar torso. You wasted no time getting comfortable, you head pushing impossibly further into the firm flesh of his chest to serve as a pillow. It didn’t faze Bucky, blue iris simply gazing down at your slithering form. 
“You haven’t eaten today,” he states again, and this time you’d actually taken the courage to look up at him, eyelids pushing away from each other painfully slowly as you tried to adjust to the dim light of the oil lamps burning by the side of the hut. You could feel his warm palm slowly inching itself into caressing your back through the material of your dress, the beaded necklace that you wore squished between the both your bodies. 
Bucky didn’t ask, he could tell that you were ill and you had no intentions of talking if you didn’t feel well. So he did what he could, a hand digging into the meat in his plate to rip a fat piece off. You watched in dismay as his hands dragged to your mouth, pausing before you closed lips as you refused him access. 
“You’ll be even more ill if you don’t eat, come on.” his gruffly voice sent shivers down your spine. You could feel the ends of his long, auburn hair tickling your cheeks as the wind whistled past the cracks of your shared hut. Your nose involuntarily scrunched at the smell of the meat before you, which you normally loved like all people in your village. Bucky took notice of your discomfort, lowering his hand slightly to prevent you from puking all over him and the place. 
You made a sound of frustration, sick and tired of being sick and tired. You simply wanted to eat and all the more drink but your body just wouldn’t let you do any of it. So sick that tears pricked at your waterline again, resurfacing the throbbing headache that'd been killing you since this morning. 
You couldn’t even have told when the sob had burst through your mouth, but it had apparently and it didn’t fail to startle the hulk of a man you were lucky to call your husband. In a split second, the food was dropped back in the discarded plate, and his hands were quick to carelessly wipe clean against his cloak with little to no care for it. 
Bucky’s heart was hardened from the series of events that’d turmoiled his life from his birth, being a viking was anything but easy. He’d bathed in blood, his own like not, he was scarred mentally just as physically. Yet, he was fierce with a shell as hard as rock to carry his sorrows in. Despite all, nothing hurt Bucky like seeing you upset, or even worse in this scenario, hurt. 
Cradling your head to his chest, he tilted your head softly towards his own as you cried upon his chest. It was weird seeing a woman such as yourself cry over something that couldn’t be seen, yet enough described because your words wouldn’t even allow you to. So to say that Bucky was worried was an understatement, you’d never cried over something so minor, best to deduct that it wasn’t.
“I’ll go and fetch the lach, better hope that Thyra has the herbs to fix you a remedy.” he spoke more to himself than to you, referring to the village healer. You didn’t want him to go though, you’d spent enough time on this miserable day away from the only man you’d wish to see, so you weren’t about to let him go. 
“No, I can handle it until daytime. I just want to eat…I’ll try the meat again.” Bucky looked down at you in hesitance, remembering the way you looked so sick at the approach of his food. Nevertheless, he brought the food back up to your mouth, and you had to fight the inner battle to not throw up now and then. He could see your struggles, yet he only focused on your determination. 
You chewed slowly so as to not upset your stomach further, giving Bucky the time he needed for him to get a taste of his own meal as well. Sure, the cut was barely enough for a man of his size but at least he’d get you to eat, he could always go out and get some more once you were satiated. His hand that wasn’t busy feeding the both of you was still glued to your back, keeping you flushed against his chest as he sat legs crossed amongst the many blankets. 
You couldn’t help with the way your heart soared at his worry, at his care, and at his love. Sure he wasn’t the most verbally expressive man, but his actions meant more to you than any I-Love-Yous. The way his fingers curled against your side as a measure of extreme protection had you weak in the knees, and that said a lot considering you weren’t even standing. 
By the time you’d both exhausted whatever food was on his plate, Bucky’s skilled hand worked for water. Grabbing a cup from the side, he sought water from the bucket by your front door. He took a drink first, draining the cup in two quick gulps. You watched as he served himself another cup, a drop of water dribbling past his beardy chin and onto the defined curve of his Adam's apple. 
Fuck and if he didn’t just look so hot, you’d really gotten the finest pick of all men in your village. You lifted an unsuspecting hand up to his cheek, the prickly feeling of his beard against your palm made a shiver run down your spine. So much for all the days he’d spent buried between your legs, you felt a ghost of the burn you’d feel on your inner thighs at the friction everytime. 
The sounds of water sloshing around brought you out of your daydreams, finally receiving the end of the cup as he lifted the edge to your lips. You liked everything about this, getting pampered while laying in your husband's arms. You couldn’t possibly have gotten two sips down your throat before-
“Maybe I should call the midwife to check on you tomorrow.” Bucky randomly blurted out, and you swore you’d never accidently taken a gulp of water this big before. The choking came first, then the excessive coughing fits before the headache resurfaced again. Now maybe you’d rethought everything, maybe you didn’t want to spend the rest of the night with Bucky anymore. 
His hands quickly abandoned the cup to rub at your back, some silent apology of some sorts for surprising you, and eventually causing you to choke. 
“You don’t think…” you looked up at your husband after you had calmed down, expectant baby blue iris staring right back at yours. Your lips were slightly parted in the confoundment of his words, you found yourself unable to speak past your sentence. You didn’t know any contraceptives further than a remedy of herbs, spells and whatnot the untrustworthy pull-out method. Yet even if  Bucky had been very obedient when it came to following that way, there were some days where he just couldn’t help himself.
His silence made you sigh to yourself, but you didn’t feel like speaking further yourself. The hut fell into a peaceful silence as you both wallowed in the other's presence, soaking each other's affection through soft touches and occasional prayers.You closed your eyes once more for the night, allowing yourself to fully sink into your husband’s burly arms.
Bucky didn’t complain, waiting for your shoulders to fall limp in indication that you’d finally submitted to the slumber you so craved. Now that you were sleeping, tucked and fed, he could finally go out and reach for a serving more appropriate for a man of his size. Though he staggered for a second, kneeling besides your sleeping form along the blankets that he’d arranged over you. 
He moved the blanket properly after noticing that you’d already managed to mess up the ‘bed’ despite being dreams deep into your sleep. Bucky allowed his hand to hover over your stomach, before providing extra heat to the area that crossed his palm. He watched as your lips twitched into a smile in your sleep, his thumb uncontrollably caressing at the clothed area at the sight of your delight. 
A rare smile tugged at the corner of Bucky’s lips, something that only you and his family had gotten to experience more often. His hand left your stomach as he rose to his feet, a distant dream of an infant swaddled by green cloth burning by the back of his mind. He didn’t turn back as he left the tent, stomach empty but heart full. 
-
i’m working on 2 requests rn but i’ll be busy all weekend so expect a fic by next friday‼️
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sinner-as-saint · 7 months
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not without you
Viking Chief!Bucky x Witch!Reader 
Run-through: You’re a powerful witch, famous and respected for your mastery of magic and ability to control the elements. Naturally, people always need you. Vikings, kings, and common men alike, be it to magically save dying crops, help them win battles, or to protect their people by manipulating the weather. One day, a certain blue-eyed Viking chief asks for your help. Bucky Barnes – one of the strongest, most feared of his kind, known for his ruthlessness and brutal nature. He offers your wandering self shelter and protection in return for your help in keeping his people and crops alive and well with the harsh winter approaching fast. And you can’t seem to refuse his offer… 
Themes: witch!reader, viking chief!bucky, smut, fluff, mild knife kink, cosy winter vibes, metal arm, tatted!bucky, possessive!bucky, slight angst, HEA, 
a/n: thank you for 28k. I love you.
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The wind whispered that he was on his way to you. 
By the time the Chief and his men made their way to your makeshift shack on the edge of the woods, you were already out waiting for them. 
Hidden under your billowy cloak, with the hood hiding most of your face, you stood and faced the men with confidence. You couldn’t see them, given the hood, but you sensed the way the Chief got off of his horse, clutching his sword in hand as he took a step. Not in fear, no. But in that arrogant way you’d expect a Chief to move. 
“Witch.” He greeted you. It was the only way he could greet you anyway, nobody knew your name. 
You smirked. Finally peeling your hood off your head. You gave him a brief nod, “Chief.” You looked him right in those ocean blue eyes of his and judging by the look in them, you could tell he wasn’t used to people maintaining eye contact with him. He was an important man after all, and most people feared him. 
But your magic had a way of reading people for you and… there was nothing to be afraid of. Not of him. He did look every bit of the fearsome viking he was known as though. Thick furs couldn’t hide the tall, muscular body. His shoulder length brown hair braided in some places. His handsome face was serious, like he rarely smiled. And all that ink all over his neck, and arm – just one arm because the other one was made of pure metal. 
You had heard stories of how he’d lost his arm in battle, and how a great, benevolent king – also a close friend of his – had the metal arm constructed for him. 
But above all else, the Chief was devastatingly handsome. You’d known, courted, and befriended quite some men. Hunters. Lords. Warlocks. Princes. Kings. Yet none were quite as devastatingly handsome as the Chief. 
You quickly looked behind him and saw two men standing taller and prouder than the rest of the warriors. The wind whispered their names to you. Sam. Steve. Both were just as handsome as their Chief, however there was something about the male standing in front of you with a sword in hand. Thick white fur wrapped around his shoulders. Clear, icy blue eyes. Pink mouth. The cold made his cheeks and nose red. 
“We heard rumours that you were close to our village, and we’ve come to ask for your help.” The Chief said, gracefully, calmly. 
You gave him a nod. “I know.” You said quietly. “The north wind brings news that this winter will be exceptionally harsh.”
Bucky gave you that look that most people gave you when they figured out that your magic was indeed real. He was just a little surprised, but composed himself. “We desperately need your help.” He spoke again. 
You agreed to help of course. This was your purpose with the magic you had. 
And since you had little to pack, you went with them immediately. They didn’t bring an extra horse so you rode with the handsome Chief back to his village where you would be spending the entirety of the coming winter. 
You never asked for anything in exchange. Some witches did, most of them did not. Mainly because you never needed anything, you had magic and you could conjure anything you wanted out of nothing. But you liked having company of people. So you considered that payment. 
And after spending months on your own, you were looking forward to meeting new people, helping them. 
During the ride back to the village you’d be calling home for the coming months, you felt the Chief tense behind you. His muscular arms circled around you as he held the reins but he was respectful enough to keep a few inches between you and him. You could only assume how much stress he was putting on his back to keep him from slouching forward. 
You hid your smile as you sensed that he was nervous. “You don’t have to be so tense.” You said, turning your head to the side a little. “Witches don’t bite.” You spoke quietly so that the men behind you wouldn’t hear. 
“I don’t…” He let out a huff of warm air. “I don’t want to be disrespectful.” 
You smirked, but he couldn’t see it. “I’m just saying, you could use the warmth.” 
He didn’t know what you meant until he slowly inched closer, his chest pressing against your back. Even with the multiple layers separating the two of you, your body heat wrapped around him in a way that had him sighing in relief. 
Without another word said, his metal arm wrapped around your middle as he pulled you against him even more. You smiled as he leaned in to whisper into your ear, “You’re very warm.” He sounded a little surprised. His deep, gravelly voice making you shiver despite the warmth. 
“Magic, remember?” 
He hummed in response, keeping his arm loosely around your waist as he took you to his village. The tension between you two felt electric. 
The ride wasn’t too long, and soon you arrived at the village. It was larger than you had imagined. Busier, but tidier. 
Once you got past the tall, wooden palisades you could see more of the daily activities. Hunters sharpening their weapons, warriors training, children running around. You spotted the vast crops, the rivers. 
There was so much you couldn’t see, but the elements spoke to you. You knew there was a lake here somewhere. The Chief’s hall was beyond the wooden houses which were scattered all over. You knew there were people gathered somewhere near the beach, working on building a new boat. Multiple boats in fact. 
“Welcome to my home.” The Chief whispered as he led you deeper into the village. 
Judging by the relieved smiles on people’s faces as they spotted you, you knew they were aware that you were here to help them. You smiled back to as many as you could on your way to the main area, in the middle of the village. 
The Chief helped you off the horse and when you thanked him he said, “You can call me Bucky. All my friends do.” 
You gave me a smile, “Alright, Bucky.” 
He nodded, then pointed at a wooden house, not far from his residence, and said, “I hope you’ll be comfortable here.” 
One of the ladies was beside you immediately, saying she wanted to help you get settled in. So with one last glance at Bucky, you made your way to your new, temporary home. 
The moment he walked into his home, sighing in relief at the feeling of warmth, his two best friends rushed in after him, grinning like they were up to no good. Bucky rolled his eyes at Sam and Steve as he poured wine into three cups. 
“What?” He barked at them, handing them their cups before he sat on one of the few stairs that led to his seat. The one he sat on when he had to act as Chief. But when he was with his friends, he didn’t like sitting on it. 
“Are we going to address the heated looks you and the witch have been sharing or are we going to pretend nothing’s happening here?” Sam teased, leaning against a nearby table. 
Steve chuckled, sitting down near the fire in the middle of the room. “Yeah Chief, what’s going on?” 
Bucky glared at them both. He loved them to death, would die and kill for them in a heartbeat. But gods, they could be so annoying. “Enough,” He grumbled as they both laughed shamelessly at him, “She’s our guest. Most of all, we need her to survive this winter. Be respectful.” 
Sam smirked and said, “Is that what that was on the ride back? The two of you as close as lovers? Was that you being respectful?” 
Steve’s laughter echoed around the hall. Bucky wanted to chuck his cup at both of them but he didn’t want to waste the wine so he just rolled his eyes again, “Get out both of you.” 
“Oh come on, Buck.” Steve spoke up, “With her as your wife we would be unstoppable.” 
Sam nodded, “Exactly.” 
“Both of you, shut up.” 
“I mean, she is beautiful. If you’re not interested, I might check out what else her magic can do when-,” Steve stopped talking the moment Bucky threw his cup at him, wine and all. 
Sam choked on his drink and laughed even harder. 
Shortly after, Bucky kicked both of them out of his home. He was surprised at how it suddenly got hard to breathe or think the moment Steve even jokingly hinted at getting intimate with you. Bucky felt so protective over you despite having met you just hours ago. 
He just wished he could keep that under control for the coming months. You were his guest after all. He couldn’t be inappropriate. 
— 
He couldn’t sleep that night. The village was quiet, dark. The night was cold given winter was approaching really fast. The next day, he had plans to give you a tour of the village and thinking about spending hours with you was making him nervous. But in a good way. Gods, he was turning into a little boy with a crush. This was bad for his image. 
He couldn’t sleep, so he figured a walk might tire him out. So he layered up in his favourite furs, grabbed a torch and stepped outside. It was dark, save for the moonlight. And also light coming from your temporary home. 
Bucky was walking towards the wooden house before he even realised it. His hand was knocking against the door before he could talk himself out of it. He should let you rest. He should act like a grown up and walk away right now. Being Chief he should– 
He stopped functioning the moment you opened the door and looked up at him. Dressed in a beige night dress, a woollen blanket wrapped around your shoulders, and the dimmed light of the torches made you look ethereal just standing there at the door. 
You spoke first, “Bucky.” You didn’t sound surprised. You knew he was coming over the moment he stepped out of his home. “It’s rather late, is something wrong?” You couldn’t help but ask. You knew he was coming over, but you didn’t know why. Your magic, fortunately, didn’t allow you to read minds. 
Bucky placed the torch on the sconce by the door and cleared his throat, standing proud and tall like one would expect him to. “I saw your lights were still on. I couldn’t help but worry so I… uh, came to check.” He paused, awkwardly. “Do you… are you comfortable? Do you need anything?” 
You sensed his slight nervousness even without using your magic. You tilted your head to the side and smiled at him, “I’m very comfortable. Your people were kind enough to–” You stopped, noticing how foggy his breaths were, “Please come in,” You opened the door wider, “It’s cold out.” 
Bucky accepted the invitation. As soon as he stepped in, you placed your hand on his chest. Bucky blinked and in the fraction of a second, he felt comfortably warm. He gave you a thankful smile. 
You smirked playfully and whispered, “Magic.” Then you moved towards the makeshift kitchen, “Tea?” 
Bucky grimaced and said, “I don’t like that bitter stuff.” He mumbled, avoiding eye contact. 
You chuckled, “I bet you will like this one.” You went ahead and made him chamomile tea, with warm milk and a generous dollop of honey. 
By the time you brought the mug to him, you found him bent over your little desk. He was looking down at the map you were currently making, your special black ink on special parchment paper. 
Bucky whispered his thanks as he took the mug, then said, “You’re making a map of the village?” He sounded both amazed and confused. “No one has been able to make one this accurate. You haven’t even… “ He paused, “Of course,” He smirked, “Magic.” 
You smiled. “Maps help me control my spells better. It’s enchanted parchment you see,” You pointed at the map, “I can even work from here with the help of the map.” You looked back up at him and saw the look of delight on his face as he took his first sip of the tea. 
He raised an eyebrow at you, “You laced this with magic as well?” 
You giggled, “No, just milk and honey.” 
Bucky just stared at you with soft eyes. In the dim, golden lights his eyes twinkled like that of a wolf. You stared into them, neither of you spoke. Until he finally blinked, pointed at the map and said, “It must be incredible, being this talented.” 
You couldn’t help but chuckle in a self-deprecating way. “Talent.” You repeated, looking down at the map. Then quietly said, “I was always taught and told that my magic was a great weapon. But thank you, I guess.” 
Without another word said, Bucky placed his half empty mug down and grabbed both of your hands in his large, warm ones. He tugged you closer, gently. Just the slightest bit so he could have your undivided attention. 
“You’re not a weapon. You won’t ever be one, not here.” He said, softly. Slowly. “You are our salvation.” 
You had been repaid in many ways throughout your life. Chests filled with gold. Jewels. Feasts and balls thrown in your name. Even a few marriage proposals from influential families. But no one had ever told you that you were their salvation. Something about Bucky saying it, even before you got him and his people through the winter, made you tear up just a little. 
His face softened as he wiped that tear away from your cheek with his slightly cold metal arm. “I mean it.” He whispered. Then he leaned in and kissed you on the cheek, whispering, “You are so beautiful.” Then a little closer to your mouth. “So warm.” Then finally pressed his lips against yours as his arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer and pressing you against the soft furs he was wearing. 
You couldn’t help but moan quietly into the kiss. That made him growl, made him deepen the kiss. His warm hand cradled your face as his metal arm wrapped around your waist. His lips were surprisingly soft, and his kiss was gentle. Sensual. Your hands wandered over his chest. You could feel his heart racing. You could feel him breathing deeper, but refusing to break the kiss. 
You gasped in pleasure when his mouth left your lips briefly to kiss along your jaw, making your heart flutter in anticipation. But then, he stopped and pulled away. He was breathless, frowning, his lips wet and pink. 
“I… I shouldn’t.” He licked his lips and you almost moaned again. “You’re…” He took a deep breath. “You’re my guest. And you only just got here.” He shook his head, as if disappointed in himself. “I shouldn’t have pounced on you like an animal like that.” 
You fixed the blanket around your shoulders, giving him a playful, though disappointed, smile. “I’ve heard a lot of things about you, but no one even mentioned you were such a proper gentleman.” 
Bucky cleared his throat, then gave you a heated look that screamed that if he didn’t get out of here right this instant he would surely be pouncing on you again. “I should go.” He mumbled. “Thank you for the tea.” 
You nodded, “You’re very welcome. I will see you tomorrow, for the tour?” 
He nodded. Then as he turned to leave, he paused. He turned back around and unwrapped the thick white fur from around his shoulders and placed it on your desk. The tunic he wore was loose around his neck so you could see the ink on his skin peaking through. “Keep this,” He said, “you might need it for tomorrow.” 
You smirked, understanding what he was playing at. He knew you could keep yourself warm. But he just wanted you to wear something of his while he showed you around tomorrow. He wanted everyone to see you wearing something of his. You had heard of vikings being territorial, and truthfully, you didn’t mind this one bit. 
You played along, pretending to be oblivious. “Won’t you be cold then?” 
As he stepped out of the door, he turned to look at you. Smirked and said, “I think your magic will keep me warm enough.” 
You chuckled as he shut the door behind him, took his torch and left. Who knew the Chief would be such a flirt? 
— 
Bucky had never been this excited to give someone a tour of his village. He was at your door the next morning, early and ready. He knew you already had a map, but he wanted you to see the place properly. 
You caught the approval in his smile when he saw you wearing the fur he left you as you stepped out to join him. He was wearing black furs, and looked just as majestic. 
“My people are delighted that you’re here to save us from the winter,” He said as the two of you began walking towards the centre of the village, the busiest part he told you. “So expect a lot of gifts along the way.” 
You didn’t know what to expect. And even after politely refusing many, many tokens of thanks from his people, you already had baskets filled with cheese, berries, fresh bread and you were even done with the tour yet. Bucky, of course, carried the baskets for you. 
He was in a good mood, you realised. He was showing off a little as he gave you the tour. Showing you all the new warehouses, the new boats that were being built near the beaches, the new houses being made as the number of people grew. 
He showed you the hall where himself, Steve, and Sam often trained young kids. They taught them how to fight, to defend. They’re vikings, they need to be ready, he said, for anything and everything. 
He had a glow on his face as he spoke about the kids, and you couldn’t help but ask, “How come you don’t have any?” 
Bucky gave you a faint smile. Then said, “After my father died, I had to take care of everything around here. And I guess I never had time.” He paused, “I also never found the right person.” 
You turned to look at him and he was looking the other way, surely hiding a smirk. You decided to drop the subject. 
Bucky led you deeper into the village, near the lake. “It looks incredible in the summer, but–,” He stopped talking once the two of you heard male voices shouting. It sounded like it was coming from the lake. 
You followed Bucky as he rushed to the lakeside and let out a groan. You chuckled once you saw what he was looking at. His two friends, Steve and Sam, arguing in the water about who pushed who first. 
Bucky sighed and said, “I apologise, I wish these two would act like adults.” Then he yelled at them, “Hey! Stop trying to make me look bad. And get out of the water both of you, I can’t have you both freeze to death!” 
You watched how the two of them swam towards the shore and eventually got out, trembling. 
“Gods, I hate you.” Sam said, shivering. 
“You pushed me!” Steve argued, shoving Sam. 
Sam shoved him back, “You pushed me!” 
“Enough!” Bucky turned to you and said, “My useless friends,” He introduced, “I wish you would’ve met them in more normal circumstances.” 
You laughed, then walked up to the two men. “Hello,” You said and placed your hands on each of their shoulders, your magic would keep them from shivering. And the moment you touched them, they both sighed in relief. “There, that should keep you warm until you get home.” 
You couldn’t help but check them out. They were both muscular and fit, and the way the wet tunics clung to their bodies… their muscular torsos, and biceps bigger than– 
Bucky cleared his throat and you quickly looked away. You were almost certain Sam and Steve were smirking as they mumbled their goodbyes and hurried home. 
“We should get back.” Bucky said, his mood immediately turning sour. 
When the two of you did head back, he walked you to your home, handed you your baskets full of food and gifts, whispered a brief goodbye and left. You had planned that you would ask him to join you for dinner, as a way of thanking him for the tour. But he was just so grumpy on the way back that you decided not to. 
But then you were restless the whole evening. You made yourself a quick dinner and sat by the fire to read but something didn’t feel right. 
As it got later, the village got more and more quiet. And dark. When the wolves began howling you knew it was very late, but as you looked through the window, you saw that the lights inside Bucky’s home were still lit. 
He was awake. 
You debated walking over to his place, but then decided not to. You had to get to work the next day and surely you’d get a chance to talk to him then. 
You visited the crops first, drawing your runes in the dirt. That’s where you ran into Steve and Sam. They wished to introduce themselves properly, and the three of you began talking. They showed you around for a little while, making you laugh at their jokes and stories of their childhood. 
They kept you company while you worked and at some point, you sensed that someone was watching you. You knew who it was before you even turned around. 
There was Bucky standing, proud and tall, quite far from the crops. The same broody expression on his face as the day before. 
You almost lifted your hand to wave at him but then he walked away. 
“We better leave,” Steve said with a mischievous smile. 
“I’m afraid if the Chief sees us around you again he might behead us in public.” Sam winked at you and then walked away. 
So Bucky was jealous. 
After you were done with the crops, as you made your way home in the afternoon, you ran in Bucky in the village centre. He was on his way home as well, you realised, so you walked a little faster until you caught up to him. 
Once you were beside him, you said, “Hello, Bucky.” 
“Hello.” He mumbled. 
“I worked at the crops today, I drew my runes.” You told him. 
“I know, I saw you earlier.” He said.
His voice held enough distaste that you couldn’t help but ask calmly, “Why are you angry at me?” 
He threw you a look and mumbled grumpily, “I’m not angry. I’m very grateful that you’re here.” 
"Then why won't you talk to me?" You asked. "You look like you're angry." You paused, then asked, "Is it because I was talking to your friends?" 
He stopped walking immediately. Turned to face you and said, "What were the three of you talking about anyway?" 
You had to hide a smirk as you answered, "Nothing in particular. They were just keeping me company." Seeing he still had that broody look on his face you asked, “Does that bother you?” 
He scoffed. "No." He frowned. "Why would it? You're free to talk to whoever you want, you're our–" 
You cut him off, "Guest, yes. I know." You smiled. "Well then, how would you like to have dinner with me tonight?" 
Bucky's bright blue eyes stared at you, an unexplainable expression in them. "Another time." He said much to your surprise. 
The rest of the walk back was filled with awkward silence. 
That night, you were restless. After a quick dinner, you sat by the fire to read but you couldn’t quite get into it. Then you got up and looked through the window and saw that the lights in Bucky’s home were still on. 
Again. He was awake. This time you didn’t think twice before putting your cloak on and walking to his front door. It was so quiet that you could hear the knocks echoing. Two knocks later, Bucky opened the door. 
His braids were undone, yet he looked just as handsome. “It’s late.” He said. 
“Also very cold, you should let me in.” You said. 
Bucky opened the door wider, letting you in before shutting the door. 
You walked into his home and took it all in. The place smelled like him, and a little smoky. Probably due to the fire that burned in the middle, keeping the place nice and warm. You saw his seat. His swords and weapons hung on the walls, along with artworks. Furs and rugs scattered on the floor, the place was cosy. 
“Nice place.” You commented as you turned to face him. You found him leaning against a nearby wooden column, with a drink in hand. 
He gave you a curious look. “Surely you didn’t walk all the way here to comment on my home.” He said. He looked good. The dim light from the torches made him look like a god. Long brown hair, pretty blue eyes. His tunic was loose now, showing a lot of the ink on his skin. His metal arm caught the light a few times, shining occasionally when he moved. 
You felt your heartbeats echoing louder in your ears the more you looked at him. And then… then he had the audacity to slowly lick his lips. 
That did it. You walked up to him, carefully took the cup from his hand and brought it to your lips. You held his stare the whole time. You took a careful sip because whatever it was, it was very strong. Then said, “No, no I didn’t.” 
Bucky gave you a heated look. One that was familiar from the other night when he kissed you. “You know, it’s rude to snatch someone’s drink. Especially the Chief's.” 
You smirked at him. “Do something about it then,” You added mischievously, “Chief.” 
“Oh?” Bucky’s metal arm was around your waist in no time, pulling you into his warm, muscular chest. “Now you want my attention?” He taunted, his voice deep, his eyes narrowing at the sight of the smirk on your lips. “What about when you were shamelessly staring at other men right in front of me? Or what about earlier, when you were–” 
You cut him off with a chuckle. “Just say you are jealous.” You took another sip from his drink. “And if this is how you treat your guests then I think I can imagine why everyone fears you.” 
“I’m not jealous,” He mumbled, nuzzling your cheek. “I just don’t like seeing you with other men.”
You gasped, and almost dropped the cup in surprise as he kissed along your jaw softly, biting you playfully while he’s at it. “So possessive,” You whispered, “We only just met.” You teased. 
His grip tightened around your waist before he pulled away to look at you. His blue eyes now dark with desire and longing. “Yet I haven’t been able to think about anything other than wanting to have you all to myself ever since I kissed you that night.” He said. 
He looked down at your mouth as he spoke, and it only made your heart race faster. “Bucky…” You weren’t sure what you wanted to say to him, you just… wanted. “Please.” You found yourself whispering. Pleading, which you had never done before. 
Bucky clenched his jaw and turned, pressing your back into the wooden column he was leaning against earlier. The cup fell to the floor, neither of you paying much attention to it. His metal hand cupped your face and he stared into your eyes as he spoke. 
His voice was dangerously low as he spoke, “You must understand, if we do this there’s no going back.” He said, looking down at your parted lips. “If we do this, you’re mine.” He reiterated, “If we do this,” He leaned in to brush his soft lips carefully against yours, making you gasp and whimper, “You belong to me and only me. Are we clear?” 
The rasp in his voice and the feral desire lacing his words already made your brain foggy. “Yes,” You whispered, placing the palms of your hands pressing against his warm chest and partially exposed skin. 
He wasted no time in undoing your cloak and letting it fall to the floor and pool around your ankles. Bucky had a devilish smile on his face once he saw that you were wearing nothing beneath the cloak except for flimsy undergarments. Near transparent ones. 
Bucky’s eager hand trailed up your body, gently, starting from your thigh all the way to your breasts. The warmth of his hand made you shiver in pleasure. “So this is why you were complaining about being cold?” He whispered in your ear while his hand ran up and down your sides. “I thought you could manipulate elements to keep yourself warm.” Your body felt like it was on fire under his touch. 
“Well, I can manipulate the elements.” You said. Bucky pulled away to look into your eyes. “But there’s nothing quite like body heat.” He smirked at the sight of the look of mischief in your eyes. 
Then he gently tugged on the delicate necklace around your neck, toying with the crystal pendant leisurely as if he had all the time in the world. As if he couldn’t see you squirming under his touch, wanting more. 
“It’s…” He frowned at the crystal, now holding it between two metal fingers. “It’s moving.” He whispered, and sounded so genuinely confused that it made you smile. Who knew this tall, muscular, godlike man could be adorable? 
You nodded, looking at the crystal. It was clear mostly, except for a greyish, dark, flowy mist moving around inside it. It looked like smoke trapped inside the crystal, but it was just energy. “I was given this by my family the day I left my home when I was a young girl. As a gift. For protection.” You explained. 
You looked up to find him looking down at you with a heated, wild look in his eyes. “I’m here now,” He said. “I’ll protect you. Always.” He pulled you closer, pressing your barely clothed body against him. 
You smiled, sliding your hands up until your fingers slid into his soft hair. The light from the burning torches began to dim, making the room slightly darker but still golden. The smirk on Bucky’s handsome face signalled that he knew you were messing with the torches. 
“I want you,” You whispered, pressing your lips to his cheek. The slight stubble felt rough against your mouth. But it only made you wonder where else it would feel rough. And you couldn’t help the quiet moan that escaped your mouth. 
As if he could read your mind, Bucky chuckled. He grabbed you by the neck, tightening his grip just a little, enough to make you feel warm all over. “I don’t think I could be gentle…” He whispered, his metal hand reaching for the fine dagger he kept on him at all times. 
He carefully pressed the tip flat against your lower lip. Your heart began racing faster. Bucky slowly dragged the tip of the dagged down your chin, down the side of your neck, down in between your breasts before he cut the fabric, slicing it in two and letting that fall down to the floor as well. You hissed as the cold air hit your now exposed breasts. Bucky seemed pleased as he let go of your neck, his hand trailing down to fondle with your breast instead. You tipped your head back and moaned at his touch. 
He kept the dagger pressed against your skin as he leaned in to kiss your exposed neck, “I don’t want to be gentle.” He said. 
You let out a gasp as he slid the tip of the dagger sideways, circling your nipple with it deliberately slow. “Good,” You whispered, “I don’t want you to be gentle.” 
Bucky chuckled. “Oh, you’re perfect.” He dragged the tip of the dagger down, sliding it slowly across your abdomen, right above the waistband of your undergarments. Over and over again until you were squirming, and gasping, and grinding on nothing. 
“Please,” You said, looking at him with soft eyes.
Bucky held your stare as he slid the dagger under the fabric of your undergarment and sliced that off of you as well. Fuck that sound of fabric tearing off of your body did something to you. 
“Please,” You begged again. You were unable to ignore the wetness in between your legs anymore. Neither could he. 
Once there was not an inch of fabric shielding you from his hungry stare, Bucky threw the dagger onto the pile of your clothes and next thing you knew, you were being pushed down onto a nearby pile of soft furs. 
He pinned you down by your throat, as he hovered above you, leaning over with his metal hand wrapped around your neck firmly while he stared down into your eyes. “You look so beautiful like this.” 
You gave him a smirk and said, “It’s your turn. I want to see you.” You wanted to see the ink on his skin, trace it with your finger. You wanted to see him naked on these furs with you. You had never longed to touch someone like this before. 
Bucky held your stare, arrogant grin on his face as he pulled away to take off his tunic and lower his pants. 
You let your eyes feast on him. Ink covered more skin than you thought, but it suited him. He looked every bit the fierce Viking he was. You wanted to take your time and admire the artwork on his body but… later. Right now, you wanted him. 
You grabbed him by the neck and pulled him closer, pressing your mouth to his and kissing him deeply. “I want you,” You whispered again. 
“I know, sweetheart,” Bucky’s hand was back around your throat as he growled into the kiss, “I know.” 
Guess he could take his time and caress every inch of you like he wanted to later, right now though, he needed to have you. He was hungry for it. So he pulled away from the kiss, parted your legs and slid a finger inside you, reassuring himself that you were ready for him. 
Bucky groaned when he found that you were dripping for him. “All that for me?” He teased, settling in between your legs and pressing the tip of his cock against you. You gasped and whined as he slid the tip of it up and down your slit. 
“Please,” You begged, whining. “Hurry up or I swear to gods I will make sure your house is always freezing throughout winter.” 
Bucky couldn’t help but laugh, leaning down to press a kiss on your forehead. “No need for all that, little witch.” He whispered as he pushed his cock into you, stretching you out in a way that made it hard for you to even think about anything else. 
“Do I feel good inside you?” He questioned, teasing and knowing full well you weren’t in a headspace to answer him. His hand was around your throat and his cock buried so deep inside of you that he knew you couldn’t even think straight. 
And fuck did he feel good snug inside you. You just whimpered in response, staring up into his pretty blue eyes. “More,” You whispered, “I want more.” 
He smirked, digging his knees into the furs before he pulled out and pushed back into you. He set a hard and fast pace that made your head spin with pleasure. He was just as passionate as you expected him to be, his kisses were messy and his grip on your body was tight. He growled and moaned against your mouth as he sped up into you. 
You were a moaning mess under him. Your legs locked around his waist as he pounded into you, “You feel so good,” He said, “Look at you, all wet and open for me.” He slowed down for just a moment, looking down to where his cock disappeared into you each time he thrust it. “Is this what you wanted? Hmm?” He asked, slow fucking you until you felt a tear escape your eye. 
Fuck, he was keeping you right on that edge. It drove you mad. 
“Tell me, sweetheart.” He kissed along your jaw, nibbling on your skin. “When you walked all the way here tonight, wearing basically nothing as you knocked on my door in the middle of the night,” He chuckled, “Is this what you wanted? To be full of my cock?” 
You nodded, more tears falling down. It was so good, almost overwhelming. His words, his deep voice, the heated look in his eyes as he fucked you slowly, his weight on top of you, his warmth… 
“Yes,” You whispered, “It’s all I wanted.” 
Bucky sped up again, taking you by surprise and you couldn’t help the sinful moans that escaped your lips. He released your throat and placed his hand on your abdomen instead, pressing down on your front so he can feel himself inside you with each thrust. “Well there you go,” He said, as if taunting you, “Here I am. Deep inside you.” He stared into your eyes while he sped up into you again. “Just how you wanted.” 
You whimpered desperately as he fucked you deeper. You felt your walls clenching around him. You felt the familiar feeling, the pressure down there just waiting… waiting to explode. Your back arched off the furs as he brought you right to the edge again before slowing down. It was brutal.  
You gasped in shock, and the now ruined orgasm. Bucky smirked. “That’s punishment,” He said, “For talking to other men right in front of me.” 
You frowned, “You’re cruel.” 
Bucky kissed you one more time before he flipped you around and pulled you onto your knees and pushed into you again from behind. You moaned out loud, not expecting that but welcoming the feeling of being full again. 
You laid your cheek down on the furs, the softness of them a stark contrast to how rough Bucky was being, handling your body like you were just a toy. It made you smile in pure bliss as he gripped your hips and slammed in and out of you incessantly, sighing and groaning in the process. 
More tears escaped your eyes as the pleasure became too much to handle. You felt the pressure at your core forming again as Bucky pounded into you mercilessly, fucking you like an animal. Bending and contorting your body however he liked. Pressing your head down as he sped up into you until you came, crying out loud and clenching around him so hard it took him everything not to finish inside you. 
He quickly pulled out and came all over your lower back and thighs. He took a moment to admire all the marks he’d left on your skin before pulling you into his arms as he laid down beside you. 
You placed your ear right above his heart, listening to it gradually calm down like yours did. Only then did you have enough energy to keep your eyes open and admire the ink on his skin. You traced the closest one with a finger. 
“A dragon?” You asked. 
Bucky chuckled softly. “I like to think they might have been real at some point.” 
You pulled away, holding yourself up using your elbow. You looked down at Bucky and said, “Of course they were. They were magical beings, they got along well with witches and warlocks in fact.” 
Bucky looked pleasantly surprised. “You are so full of secrets.” He said, lifting a finger up to your face and gently traced the shape of your mouth. “Tell me more,” He pulled you back into his arms, nuzzling your neck and making you laugh, “What happened to the dragons?” 
— 
Sleeping in each other’s beds became part of the routine. 
Some nights he would come over after the village had gone dark and quiet. Other nights you’d go over to his place and stay till early morning. 
Nobody knew about you and Bucky, except for Steve and Sam who couldn’t stop grinning like mischievous devils each time they ran into you. 
Days passed this way. The weather got colder, and you kept the village in perfect shape. The rivers kept flowing even though they should be frozen. The lake as well. The crops stayed healthy. As did the cattle.
Your magic had created an invisible dome over the entirety of the village. A vast dome that only you could see. 
The people were safe from the intense cold and they were warm, fed, and happy. 
But doing all that always made you extremely tired. Usually you’d hide it well behind faint smiles and blame it on it being a long day. But even at night you had to use your magic to keep the dome intact. And although you did your best to hide it, sometimes your weariness would show. 
Like the one time when Bucky caught you by the lakeside late at night. 
You were sitting on the jetty, looking down at the dark water. The moonlight made the surface shine, and just beyond the lake, right where the dome ended, you could see the harsh winds of the blizzard that you were currently keeping away from Bucky’s people. But from within the dome, no one could even hear it. 
And just when you thought of Bucky, you heard him walking on the jetty and on his way to you. 
“I looked for you everywhere.” He said, sitting down next to you on the edge. “Are you alright? You never come here this late.” He sounded genuinely concerned. 
You smiled at him, his pretty face glowing under the moonlight. Then you pointed at the blizzard, and Bucky swore under his breath when he saw what was happening beyond the dome, “I came to make sure everything was safe.” You said. “I had to draw some of the runes again.” Then you added, “Everything’s fine, don’t worry.” 
Bucky loosened the furs around his shoulders and opened his arms for you to snuggle up to him. 
You gave him a smirk as you slowly scooted closer to him, “I can keep myself warm, remember?” 
“Yeah, but there’s nothing quite like body heat.” He teased, wrapping his arms and the furs around you, holding you close to him. He leaned down and kissed your cheek softly then said, “You seem tired. I didn’t realise magic would take such a toll on you.” He sounded a little embarrassed. 
“Hey,” You placed a gentle hand on his rough cheek. “This is how it is. Magic has a cost, it feeds on my energy and that’s just how it works. I should be okay after a few hours of sleep.” You smiled up at him. “Can I ask about the arm?” 
He smiled, tapped you on the nose with his metal finger and said, “Bravery has a cost, my lady.” You laughed, and he eventually told you the story. And by the time he was done, he noticed you were just about to fall asleep. “Hey, come on. Let’s go to bed.” 
You let him help you stand up and said, “I’m tired tonight, maybe–,” 
He cut you off. “That’s not what I meant.” He pulled you closer and kissed you gently, “I won’t do anything, I just want you in bed with me. You’re doing so much for us, let me take care of you and do what I can.” He added, pressing another kiss on your lips, “Please.” 
You smiled and gave in. 
And turns out, sleeping in his bed, in his arms was enough to recharge you. 
— 
One day, a messenger came with urgent news for Bucky. 
A little far from this village was another one, and the news said that their Chief had died leaving behind no one to care for the people. Since Bucky was the closest, they were begging him to help them last this icy winter. 
Bucky held a meeting with his inner circle – his friends, and now you as well. Everyone gathered near the fire in the middle of Bucky’s home. Outside, the weather was getting colder. Your magic kept everyone here comfortable but those people who had asked for help… they wouldn’t last long. 
“We can’t help them.” Bucky said, surprising everyone in the room. 
Tony, the one who created weapons for every warrior in the village and also part of Bucky’s inner circle, spoke up first, “What do you mean here, Chief? Those people will die.” 
Steve nodded, agreeing, “There are children, cold and starving. We can’t leave them.” 
“Think about it,” Sam said, “We could have more people in our army to fight for us, with us.” 
Bucky stopped his slow pacing, then turned to all of you. “How are we going to care for these people? I mean, I guess we’ll have enough food for everyone but what about shelter?” 
Peter, Tony’s apprentice, spoke up this time, “We have enough material to build houses. I mean, we could always pause on the boats for now and use those materials for houses. You’ll have to go bring the people over anyway, and by the time you’ll be back I suppose we could have houses ready by then.” He looked over to Tony for approval. The latter nodded in agreement. 
“That will cost too much.” Bucky said. Then sighed. “I have to care for the people here.” 
You spoke up this time, “I could help.” You said. “I have more gold than I could ever use. And I could help with the building, and–,” 
Bucky cut you off gently, “No, I cannot ask you for all that. You’re already helping us, and this wasn’t part of our arrangement.” He paused for a moment, only the crackling logs filled the silence, “Besides, I’ve seen what using magic constantly does to you.” 
You rolled your eyes, “That’s just how it works,” You repeated. “It’s like when you complain about being tired after a whole day of training. Doesn’t mean you won’t ever train again.” You reasoned. “And as for our arrangement, I agreed to help. So let me.” 
Bucky sighed again, walking over to you as if the rest of the people in the room didn’t exist. Honestly, the moment you stared into his clear blue eyes, it didn’t matter who else was in the room. 
“It’ll wear you out.” He said softly, almost in a whisper. 
You gave him a faint smile, “Guess you’ll just have to take better care of me then.” 
He was about to reach out and cup your face in his hands but then Steve, Sam, and Tony all cleared their throats to get your attention back on the current issue. You avoided all their eyes awkwardly while Bucky smirked shamelessly. Peter just seemed confused. 
“Fine,” Bucky said. “We’ll bring the people. We’ll take the boats.” He announced. “We leave today itself.” Then he proceeded to assign the work of building additional houses over to Tony and Peter. Sam and Steve, along with other warriors, were going with Bucky. 
Then the men left, Tony and Peter went to gather people to help them start building immediately and Sam and Steve went to get the other warriors to prepare for their journey. Once they were out of the house, Bucky pulled you close. 
“That was generous of you.” He said, nuzzling your neck and kissing it. “I’ll be gone for two weeks at least, you know?” He said. “I’ll miss you.” His lips brushed along your neck, stopping at the corner of your mouth, “I’ll miss this.” His arms tightened around you, making you gasp. 
“I’ll miss you too,” You said, pulling away to look at him. “The sea will be rough,” You said, “Take this.” You took the crystal necklace off of your neck and put it around his, hiding it under the layers he wore. “That should keep you safe.” Then you looked around and said, “You should start packing your things. My magic won’t work given the distance so you’ll need more furs to keep you warm.” 
He looked at you with soft eyes. “Usually no one fusses over me like this.” He said, “I like it. I like it a lot.” 
You smiled and gave him a quick kiss. “Now hurry up. Those people need you.” 
“Hmm,” He leaned down for a kiss again. “If anyone touches you while I’m gone I will behead them.” He said, half-joking. “One more thing, I want you to stay here while I’m gone.” He said, referring to his house. “Sleep in my bed every night. Oh and think of me. Miss me. A lot.” 
You laughed. “Understood, Chief.” 
— 
You went to see Bucky off when he left later that evening. He looked like a King and his armada, setting off for battle. 
He was barely out of your sight and you missed him already. You whispered a prayer to the strong winter winds, telling them to keep him safe until he comes back. 
For the entirety of the two weeks which followed, you worked harder than ever. The dome, the crops, the cattle, the rivers and lake, and now the construction. Your magic fortified the wood used for the new houses, all the gold you had accumulated over the years helped the village immensely. 
The people were so grateful. And you did your best to keep their spirits up while their Chief was gone. 
It made you feel all warm inside whenever people would gush about how incredible of a leader Bucky was. You wondered if he knew his people loved him so much. Then, almost always, quickly followed by that warm fuzzy feeling was intense worry. 
You never had anyone to worry about this much. So this was new for you. 
By the end of the second week, each morning you’d wake up and go by the beach to see if you could see the ships coming. They didn’t. 
You slept in his bed like he wanted you to. And that just made things worse. Because now not only did you worry about him, but you missed him like a mad woman. His scent was all over the bed and the covers. 
But then one morning, as you went to the beach to check, you saw them. The ships, tiny little dots near the horizon. They were coming back. He was coming back. 
Great timing in fact because the houses were just done building as well. And the crops had just been harvested. 
Some hours later, the ships docked. And the new people had arrived, with their entire lives packed into trunks. While everyone showed the new ones to their houses, you looked for Bucky. You couldn’t even hide the smile on your face as you spotted him, running to him. 
Bucky smiled as you ran into his open arms, hugging him tightly. You didn’t see the approving smiles on the faces of people around you, all you cared about was that Bucky was here, safely. 
“Hello to you too, sweetheart,” He whispered, kissing your forehead. “I’ve missed you.” 
You pulled away to look up at him. “You’re back.” You whispered, delighted. 
He cupped your face and leaned down to press his forehead against yours, sighing. “I wish I could take you to bed and show you how much I missed you, but…” 
“Later,” You finished his sentence. “There’s a lot of work to be done right now.” 
He nodded. Then you felt something moving near your ankles, getting tangled up in your flowy cloak. You looked down and saw a small ball of white fur. Bucky chuckled as you bent down to pick it up. 
“The mother and the rest of the litter didn’t survive the cold,” He said, “But I found this little guy as we were evacuating the village. He was hiding under a pile of hay, all hungry and trembling. And I thought, who else would take better care of him than a certain generous witch I know?” He explained, a little flustered, ”So I brought him along. For you.”  
You looked at the fluffy, white wolf pup in your hands. You already loved him with all your heart. Then you looked up at Bucky again, “Thank you. I love him.” You said, kissing him on the cheek, “And thank you for not leaving him behind.” 
He smiled, “Oh well,” He looked around to see his people helping their new guests get off the boats, offering to carry their luggage for them. He looked beyond proud. “What’s one more addition to our village?” He shrugged, smiling at you. 
It took some hours, but by nightfall everyone had a bed to sleep in and roof over their heads. Bucky was so pleased he insisted they celebrated this feat. Plus he wanted the new members to feel welcomed and comfortable so he held a feast. 
Food and ale makes everyone feel at home, he said. 
So the feast was held. The village centre quickly became a vibrant, bustling scene. And the music was the best part. You had travelled to so many places but you had never heard such rich music and singing. 
As you walked around, enjoying the atmosphere, everyone thanked you for your help. Usually by this time well into winter, food was always scarce. But with you and your magic here, everyone was happy and their bellies were full. 
You caught Bucky’s stare from across the crowds of people a lot of times. His heated stare that held promises which made your face feel all hot and made your body tingle. But he was busy catching up with his people right now, he made sure to speak with each and everyone of the new members of his village, he spoke with the kids and promised them that they would be restarting training soon. He even held some of the babies that had been born while he was away. 
And you watched him with fondness. Watched how he smiled, watched how he let the kids mess with and admire his metal arm, watched how gentle and kind he could be, as well as how stern and assertive. 
And then he caught you staring. He smirked at you while you pretended that your entire being didn’t come alive under his attention. You tried to hide the way you clenched your thighs together as he began walking over to you, finally. 
The music rose to a crescendo as he made his way to you. Tall, strong, with a confident and slightly arrogant gait. He stopped when he was right in front of you, the lit torches made his skin look golden, and his eyes… oh his eyes. 
His metal head reached out to touch your face, slowly caressing your warm cheek. “Did you get a chance to eat?” He asked. 
You nodded, lost in his eyes. You didn’t even remember what you ate, if he asked you you wouldn’t know. 
“Good. Then let’s go.” There was enough raw desire in his voice that it made you move immediately. 
As you walked you asked, “Won’t they notice you’re gone?” You referred to the ongoing festivities. 
Bucky smirked as he took your hand in his, the two of you making your way through the dark, to his place. “Judging by the way you threw yourself into my arms earlier, I think they expected us both to disappear at some point.” 
After the short walk, you could still hear the music from the feast even after making your way into Bucky’s home. You could hear some vocalising, and it sounded… magical. Raw. Intense. Much like the look in Bucky’s eyes. 
“I see you did sleep here.” He noted, appreciating that you did as he’d asked. 
You took your cloak off near the fire and then followed Bucky into the sleeping area. “It was the closest I could get to you while you were gone.” You whispered, taking the layers of fur off of him. You carefully placed it down and began undoing his tunic. “Your bed smells like you.” You said, “Some nights I couldn’t sleep until I made myself come while pretending it was your hand touching me.” 
A sound resembling a growl left his mouth as he grabbed both of your wrists in one hand, ceasing your movement. “Show me.” He said, low and deep, “Show me what I missed.” 
A sly smirk formed on your lips, “Sure you don’t want to do it yourself?” 
He shook his head. “I want to see.” 
You turned and gave him your back, “Undress me then.” You expected him to undo the laces and buttons. But no. You felt something cold against the nape of your neck, and then the sound of fabric being ripped filled the room. 
You gasped in pleasant surprise. He’d torn your dress off instead. With the dagger. You let the ruined dress fall to the ground and faced him again, naked because you hadn’t been wearing any undergarments, “That was one of my favourites.” You said, looking into his lust-drunk, hooded eyes. 
“I don’t care.” He answered, truthfully. Stepping closer he raised the dagger up under your chin, pressing it gently against your skin. “If it were up to me, I’d keep you naked in this bed at all times.” 
You giggled. 
“Hurry up,” He said, “Show me.” His voice was a mere whisper. 
You could still hear the music and the singing in the background as you held his stare and laid down on his soft bed, on your back. He stood at the end of the bed looking down at you like an old god looking at a sacrifice. With hunger in his eyes like you’d never seen before. 
He watched as if in trance, as you bent your knees and spread your legs. His breaths got deeper as he watched how wet you were, your finger slowly sliding up and down your slit. He inched just a little closer as you began gasping and whimpering, your finger slipping in and out of you. 
Your other hand toyed with your nipple, twisting and tugging. You held his dark stare as you moaned, back arching off the bed, the slightly chilly air hit your bare chest and caused your nipples to erect even further. 
“Oh gods…” Bucky whispered, watching as you put on a show. Watching as you whined in pleasure as the pace at which your fingers effortlessly slipped in and out of you increased. You looked down and saw the bulge in his pants. He was barely holding back. 
The way he watched you, the feeling of anticipation knowing he would fill you up soon, all of it made your heart race. Outside, the music rose to a crescendo again and you moaned louder, fingering yourself faster, the palm of your hands rubbing against your sensitive clit over and over again as your middle finger slipped in and out of you. 
You gasped, “Bucky…” You moaned quietly under your breath, imagining it was his fingers that were touching you instead of your own. “I need you…” you mumbled in the haze that you were in, “Please… I need you.” 
He wasted no time in grabbing you by the thighs and dragging you to the edge of the bed as he knelt to the ground. He placed your legs over his shoulders and leaned down to kiss your belly. He was rock hard, barely able to think straight. But fuck he needed to hear you moan as you came. 
“I fucking missed you,” He mumbled as he kissed around where your shaky fingers were buried in your wet cunt. “Let me taste you.” He whispered before gently slipping your fingers out of your hole and into his mouth. He sucked on them like they’d just been dipped in the sweetest honey. 
“Oh fuck…” You moaned, looking at him. The great Chief, kneeling in between your legs, sucking your taste off your fingers… it was heady. “Please,” You murmured again when you noticed that he was teasing you, keeping you waiting on purpose. 
He let go of your fingers, smirking as he looked up at you. “I’ve been wanting to taste you.” He whispered, his warm breath making you squirm. Chuckling at your restlessness, he parted your folds and buried his mouth in between them, eating you out like he was a starving man and moaning at your taste. 
Relentlessly, passionately. His warm mouth wrapped around your clit and sucked on it occasionally. His tongue teased your entrance as he took his time to feast in between your legs. 
Your fingers slid into his hair, it had gotten slightly longer you realised as you grabbed a fistful of it, tugging on it gently as his mouth teased you. 
“So this is what you did, huh? While I was away, rescuing people and fighting rough seas…” His tongue slowly circled around your clit and he earned more and more moans out of you. “You were here, touching yourself.” 
Your legs trembled as he locked his arms around your thighs and pushed your core further into his mouth and made you cry out of pleasure. You whined. “Please, Bucky…” 
He chuckled, darkly. “No.” He pulled away, licking his lips. “Not so easily.” 
He stood up, got rid of all his clothes before climbing into bed with you. His glorious, inked, naked body hovered above yours as he looked down at you with nothing but fondness and desire in his eyes. You looked down, whimpering at the sight of him stroking his hard cock, it was leaking already. 
Bucky looked down at you and smiled before leaning in for a kiss again. He nibbled along your skin, from your mouth to your neck, “Are you ready for me, sweetheart?” 
You cried out, “Yes! Please, Buck–,” 
He cut you off by sliding into you, filling you up. You gasped as your walls welcomed him perfectly and he growled under his breath as he filled you up entirely. “Look at me,” He said. When you did, he smiled and laced your fingers together and pinned both your hands above your head as he sped up into you. “Fuck,” He swore, “You feel like you were made for me.” 
Your eyes rolled to the back of your head once he started rocking in and out of you with your legs locked behind his back. He leaned in and kissed your lips again, groaning and panting against your lips as he fucked you hard and fast. 
The music outside felt like it echoed inside your head. It made your heart race, like a soundtrack to this ethereal union. 
“Tell me you belong to me,” He whispered, lips brushing against yours as his cock stroked your inner walls perfectly. “Tell me you’re mine.” 
“I’m… I’m yours,” You said, breathlessly. 
“That’s right,” He breathed against your mouth. “All fucking mine.” He repeated, kissing along your skin and moaning into your ear, “Fuck, you feel so good.” He said as he sped up again, fucking you nice and deep to show you that you belong to him. “Come for me,” He said, knowing he wouldn’t last too long, “Come on sweetheart, come for me.” 
You cried out as you did, coming undone as he kept pounding into you until he finished inside you. Bucky nuzzled your neck, kissing your skin as he caught his breath. You wrapped your arms around him lazily, feeling his heart racing just as fast as yours was. 
He sighed in bliss as he finally laid down beside you, taking you with him so more than half of your body was on top of his. He kissed the top of your head and whispered, “I missed you like a madman.” 
You smiled, kissing his damp skin as you replied, “I did too. It felt… empty without you.” You lifted your head up to look at him. “Your hair is longer.” You pointed out. 
Bucky chuckled, “You like it?” 
You nodded, “It suits you.” 
He smiled, caressing your cheek again. “I like you in my bed.” He murmured. 
You smirked, lifting yourself up to straddle him properly. You grabbed his semi hard cock and slid it inside you again, gasping as it went in easily. Bucky groaned in pleasure, his hands holding you by the waist, ready to lift you up and down his cock. 
“I really like me in your bed too.” You said, and began riding him until you both came once more.
And so, winter passed by. 
You kept everyone safe and warm. Your bond with Bucky was not a secret anymore given you were always seen together. Judging by the smiles on people’s faces when they saw the two of you together, you’d say they were more than happy for Bucky. 
You spent more time in Bucky’s house than the one you were assigned when you first got here that Bucky suggested you move in, and let someone else have the other home. 
“I like having you in my home.” He said one night as he pulled your worn out, bare body into his. He kissed your shoulder, and made sure you were properly warm under the soft furs, in his bed. “Come live with me.” 
So you moved in. 
Your days started and ended with Bucky. With his soft, loving, often demanding touch. His merciless and passionate kisses. And you wouldn’t trade it for anything. 
He was a stern, just, and caring chief to the rest of the village but only you saw the softer side of him. 
The way some evenings he would lay his head in your lap and grumble until you played with his hair until he fell asleep. 
Or how much he loved it when you braided his hair, he’d wear it proudly. 
Or how he always gave you the best bites of food when you dined together. 
The way he would always make sure you had enough fur and blankets on your side of the bed at night. 
Or how he’d always accompany you when you took your little wolf for walks in the woods. 
Or how he’d often tempt you into going for midnight swims with him at the lake. How he’d kiss you under the moonlight, smiling like a lovesick young boy instead of the great chief he was. 
During those moments, you often wanted to freeze time and just stay with him forever. 
Forever… but that wasn’t possible, was it? 
The weather, naturally, didn’t stay freezing cold. It got warmer, and warmer as winter faded into a gentle, barely there spring. 
Your little wolf grew, and kept growing. Time, you realised, moved and with it came time to say goodbye. 
Winter was nearly over. Everyone knew, everyone could see it. But nobody said anything. You were still greeted with the same grateful smiles and infinite gifts whenever you stepped out. Steve and Sam never mentioned it, they kept filling your days with stories of their youth and more laughter. 
Bucky, it seemed, had forgotten all about what the end of winter meant. 
And it hurt you more than you thought it would when it came time to confront him about it. It took you two days to build the courage to break both of your hearts. You didn’t want to leave, but you had to, didn’t you? 
He was home early that evening, in a good mood too. As soon as you opened your mouth to say something though, he announced, “I’m going for a swim, come with me?” 
You shook your head. “I don’t feel like it. You go ahead.” 
He smiled, kissed your forehead and left. The sunset as soon as he was out of the door. He’d been going on a lot of swims lately, which again indicated that the weather was getting warmer. 
You waited for him to get back. Your heart breaking in the meantime. 
“We need to, um, talk.” You said, once he’d put on clean, dry clothes again. You watched as he dried his hair with a piece of fabric as he turned to face you. 
The buttons of his tunic undone with the tattoos on his chest peeking through, his hair was a damp mess, his blue eyes shining. He was so beautiful. So beautiful it hurt. 
“What about, sweetheart?” He tossed the fabric aside and placed his hands on either side of your waist. “Everything okay?” 
You looked up at him. Didn’t he notice? Couldn’t he see you were wearing the same cloak you wore the day he met you? Couldn’t see you were ready to leave? You spoke with tears in your eyes, “Winter is nearly over, Bucky.” You whispered in a shaky voice. 
Silence. Only the few nearby torches. And the crickets outside. 
Bucky clenched and unclenched his jaw. You could see it through the stubble on his cheeks. “What do you mean?” 
He knew what you meant. You could tell. He was just giving you a chance to rectify what you said. But you didn’t. Instead you said, “Winter is over, it’s time for me to go.” The tears fell. Hot and burning, much like the tension between the two of you even after all these months. 
Bucky was quiet, then he let out a humourless chuckle. “What are you saying? You want to leave me?” 
You sighed as he made this difficult for both of you. “You know what I mean. We had a deal, remember?” You swallowed a sob. “We–,” 
“I swear to gods,” He cut you off, pulling you closer and growling, “Do not fucking test me right now.” 
More tears fell down your face. “Bucky…” You whispered. “I can’t stay here. You know that. It’s what I do, I help people. It’s what I’m meant to do with this…” You sighed, “This magic.” 
“Who said that?” He argued. “Who said you couldn’t choose what made you happy? Who said you had to keep wandering? Huh?” He leaned closer, the tip of his nose touching yours, “Who said you can’t stop once you found a home? A real one?” He gently kissed the corner of your mouth. “You have a home here, you have me. Stay.” 
You breathed in the manly scent of him. Felt the roughness of his stubble against your skin. Felt his body heat. Why couldn’t you stop? Because it scared you. “I can’t.” You mumbled, even as your heart screamed stay, stay, stay. 
Bucky pulled away. His face was stone cold. Emotionless. His hands left your waist and clenched into fists as he stared at you. As Chief, he wasn’t used to people disobeying him. 
“Fine then,” He spoke with a bitter voice. “You want to leave? Then I’ll follow. And my people will follow me no matter where I go.” He spoke with a confidence that only a true leader can have. “So wherever you go, you’ll find me behind you. And a whole village behind me. Is that what you want?” You could hear the stubbornness in his voice, the determination. The promise. 
“You can’t.” You reasoned. “You have a duty here, Bucky. My work here is done, I lifted the dome yesterday and no one even noticed. That just goes to show I’m not needed here. You have a life here,” You said, “Not me.” More tears streamed down your face. Your mind and heart were screaming in contradiction. 
Bucky just stared at you, his heart slowly breaking. Then he said, calmly but fiercely, “I have nothing without you. Nothing.” He stepped closer to you again, “You made me feel alive again, you made me feel like I was more than just a chief, like I was a man again. Just a man who is madly in love with the woman of his dreams.” His words made you weak. “You’re… everything. Don’t leave me.” He pleaded, quietly. 
You couldn’t help but hide your face in his chest as you sobbed. He cradled your head, kissing the top of it. 
“I will send word.” He said, as you sobbed quietly. Your tears drenching his tunic. “People will know where to come find you if they need you.” He reassured you. “Stay with me, be my wife, let’s have children together,” He cupped your face and made you look up at him. His ocean blue eyes staring down loving into yours. “Let’s have a life together.” 
You sniffled. “You’re awfully stubborn.” You said. 
He smiled, his own eyes tearing up. “And you love me for it.” 
You sniffled again. “I do.” You confessed. “I do love you.” 
“And I love you.” He leaned in for a gentle kiss. “Stay with me. You have a home here.” He whispered against your lips. “You’ve helped plenty of people all over this world. It’s not selfish if you choose to settle down now and choose your happiness.” 
“I’m scared.” You admitted. “I’ve never… I don’t know if I can… I mean, I don’t know if–,” 
He cut you off with another loving kiss. “Shh, I’ve got you. We will figure it out. Together.” 
You gave him a faint smile through the tears as you nodded. “Together.” 
And choosing to stay back with him, for him, ended up being the best decision you’d ever made. 
Fin.
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groguspicklejar · 13 days
Text
part 2 of viking!141
warnings: +18 smut (minors and ageless blogs, kindly fuck off), noncon/dubcon, mean!gaz (a little treat for @waves-against-a-cliff), a touch of angst.
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"pry her legs open. i want to see that pretty cunt of hers."
struggling was futile, but you kept at it anyway. your face burned in humiliation as Johnny all but aggressively pulled your trousers down your legs and pinned your knees apart for all of them to see.
"fuck me..." Gaz muttered, eyes fixated on what's between your open thighs.
"bloody hell." Ghost looked down too, eyes darkened and glazed.
you've never felt more exposed. like the skin of a tiger on display like a prize.
"can i lick her, chief?" Soap's fingers dug into the backs of your plush thighs. "she looks good enough tae eat."
you've known men to be driven by hunger. even in your village, some have looked at you like they wanted to sink their teeth in. that was the nature of men. their insatiable need is as infinite as the stars above.
but you've never come this close to being devoured.
despite Soap's inquiry, the punishment came first. Gaz was placed in charge of that while the other two helped him keep you still and Price sat back and watched them take you apart.
Gaz had them bend you over. head to the floor and ass up. your cheek pressed against the bear fur on the hard ground while they pulled your trousers down to expose your skin to the cold air.
the first slap took you off guard. you yelped loudly before your face burned when you were made to count. you could barely catch your breath before you feel his fingers sliding between your folds.
you're mortification increases tenfold at the sudden heat blooming there, how easy it was to make you wet. Soap murmurs a curse, probably watching Gaz's fingers sink into your cunt while you squirmed and tried to get away. Ghost drags you back and keeps you pinned down. you try as best as you can to breathe through your nose with your cheek pressed against the ground, doing all you can not to let the tears spill from your eyes.
"were you ever going to tell me?" Gaz demanded, pinching your thigh. you whimpered, weak and helpless to the sting. "were you ever going to be honest?"
never. you were never going to tell any of them a damn thing. you were planning to slip out of their grasp without a damn trace and board the nearest pirate's ship and sail away to the farthest lands you could find. and they would've never found out until it was too late, until you were halfway there and well out of their reach.
it had been your only wish. your only purpose of living. to escape them.
the smack to your cunt left you gasping. "answer me!"
"n-no! no-" you try to shake your head, but you earn another hit anyway. your hands clench and unclench where they're held down by the other two, a sick moan threatening to draw out of you when two fingers dip into your cunt again. this time, they sink in quite easily with your cunt being slick and swollen from being touched, even so callously. it had been so long. were you that depraved? that you'd take pleasure from your tormentors?
your vision becomes blurry. a tear spills over the bridge of your nose. Gaz stroke his fingers deep, curling them in a way that makes you tremble. he's rough with the way he handles you, drawing out slick and lewd noises whilst he berates you for lying to him for months. your tearful eyes screw shut as you bite your lip to keep quiet.
you were right to keep your reservations about him. bearing the brunt of his wrath felt like being forced to sit in the glaring sun for too long. for that was his nature. just as warm and bright but twice as scorching. "making me talk to myself for hours like an idiot."
of the four of them, you thought he'd be the least to be so angry. he'd always been the level-headed one. even through their callous ways, he seemed to be the voice of reason. Price listens to him more than Ghost and that should say something.
which makes his wrath all the more surprising to you.
"she's gettin' a bit soaked there, Gaz." Ghost muses, clearly amused by your suffering. you think he'll have the easiest time breaking you in.
Soap's chuckle rumbles in your bones. "aye. pretty bird likes it rough, does she?"
you heave in a deep breath, but it comes out as a shaky when the heat pools between your legs, where he's forcing it out against your will. the slap to your ass wasn't Gaz this time. it's angled differently. Soap's laughter claims the bruise it's going to form later.
you're turned over on your back and had your hands held above your head and legs were kept apart. Gaz goes right back to sinking his fingers inside you. his glare feels hot on your skin. as hot as the boiling blood in your veins. your breaths shorten to pants, toes curling and popping. the heat curls as his fingers do, licking down your spine as it's beckoned to his command.
"you gonna lie to us again, love?" you grit your teeth as your eyes meet his, shaking your head. "no? i don't believe you."
that earns you another slap to your cunt. a strained moan rises from your throat. your legs would've snapped shut if they weren't being held open. it's shameful to admit that what he's doing only makes your arousal worse.
"i'll ask again." he says, fingers playing with the swollen bud between your wet folds. your lips part, a shocked whimper. you try to twist away but Ghost's palm plants down on your stomach to keep you still. "are you going to lie to us again?"
"no." again, you shake your head, lying through your teeth. he saw right through it.
the sting of another slap breaks a sob out of your lungs. "come on, love. why do you do this to yourself?"
"i'm sorry-" a feeble attempt to placate him, but he scoffs at it. you think heard Price's chuckle through the blood rushing to your ears.
"oh, are you now?" if anything, he seems more enraged by your apology. "was that a lie too or are you just desperate?"
you were. your cunt throbs hotly as he toys with you, fondling your delicate bud with the wetness he gathered from your opening. you lose count of how many times he hits you where you're most sensitive. but you know it's too many times. you know because you're choking back sobs, finding the cool air more soothing on your skin than the heat of their palms.
"fuckin' hell, Gaz. she's soaked." Ghost says as the squelching sounds only become louder. you turn your head away, biting your lip. shame bleeding into your cheeks.
you realize it's not the punishment isn't impact of his hand, but the way he brings you right to the edge. right near the peak of a climax, but never pushes you over. removing his hand entirely when your pants increase and you start to whine a little too loudly.
it's the pleasure he wrings out of you. the humiliation of it. of you being caught between his teeth as he toys with you like the prey you are to him. making you like what he's doing to you.
a fact he'll hoard over you after they've killed you. something he'll brag about to his other friends once you've taken your last breath. taking deep breaths between sobs could only do so much to calm you down.
"it's not nice being on the other end, is it?" Gaz asks, gripping your chin to make you look at him. you blink rapidly, trying to follow that specific order through wet lashes. "being deceived to think you'll get what you want."
it's personal. whatever it is about your deception that scathed him. it's a violation to him in a way you don't quite understand. the hurt in his eyes is something that bewilders you.
he leans back, a stern resolve settling over him. you're not sure what to think at first when his hand leaves your cunt. but just when you think he's going to do something worse, he surprises you.
"i'm done here. do what you want." is all he says before he leaves you at the mercy of the other three.
Soap and Ghost watch him leave, both stunned at his declaration. the brief silence only lasts a second before the latter jeers at him, asking him to come back to at least watch the fun.
"leave him." Price tells them. "let him cool off. he'll come back when he's ready."
that can't be a good thing for you. there's not dwelling on it right now. your reward came last. it was for 'saving' Soap, which was, as they explained to you, a test. one which you failed passed.
"s'alright, bonnie lass. i'll make it all better." you're squirming while he settles over you and pries open your legs, settling between them with a grin. "gonna give that pretty cunt exactly what she deserves."
you thought the entire ordeal would be painful. it was, at first. you thought you were going to die here.
but as Soap sinks his cock into you, there's a sickening dread that makes you believe your fate might be worse than death.
"there she is." Soap coos gently as he locks your legs around him. he stretches you open, drawing a mewl out of your throat. your eyes rolled back, fingers clinging to his arms. "louder, bonnie. let us hear ya."
you're not going to die here.
worse; the wolves are only going to tear you apart. limb from limb. layer by layer.
from flesh. to bone. to soul.
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[Part 3] well, gaz was certainly not happy about this new revelation :) banners by @cafekitsune and @vase-of-lilies do not interact with this blog if you're a minor or if you have no age in your bio. read the [ground rules]. you have no excuses if you get blocked. NO. TAGLISTS. (since y'all can't seem to fucking. listen. read the goddamn ground rules.) offer a note in the picklejar
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587 notes · View notes
axelsagewrites · 7 months
Text
Ragnar Lothbrok*Pet
Pairing: Ragnar x f!captured reader
Kinktober Day twenty-four: thigh riding/dry humping with Ragnar Lothbrok – after taking a Christian girl prisoner he decides to show you the pleasure a heathen can feel
Word count: 1491
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Warnings: talks of religion, religious corruption, religious guilt, teasing, heavy flirting, mini crisis of faith ig, being ragnars pet/prisoner, making out, thigh riding, smut 18+
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“She is a Christian,” Floki whispered in Ragnars ear as the pair studied the girl presented to them, “We should get rid of her, not drag her around with us. She will only slow us down,”
While Floki’s eyes bore into Ragnars skull the kings’ eyes lingered elsewhere. They had taken your village some days ago when one of his men found you hiding in the forest. The sight of you on your knees, even if it were to pray to a false god to survive, was enough to convince Ragnar.
“I should like to keep her,” he said, watching how your lips wrapped around the words you mumbled, “Untie her hands,” he commanded one of his men as Floki sighed.
“What is it with you and your Christian pets? At least keep her hands bound,” he tried to reason but Ragnar just shook his head. He knew you wouldn’t run.
A couple of weeks had passed of successful raiding and gold was beginning to pile up around him. Ragnar sat at the makeshift feast they had decided to throw after taking another village however his eyes were once again on the Christian girl who sat across from him. At first you used to flush under his gaze, a sight he enjoyed and often tried to tease out by whispering pretty words in your ear.
Ragnar leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, “What are you thinking about?” he asked, your eyes snapping up to meet his.
“That I may sleep soon. The night is growing long,”
“That is an excellent idea. Perhaps I should join you,” he said, smirking at the way you began to stutter and flush, “Tell me something. Where you married before?”
You paused for a moment before answering, “No, why?”
Ragnar shook his head, “well I heard,” he said, leaning in closer and grinning as you did the same as his voice dropped to a whisper, “that it is only the married ones who get fucked,”
“I-well-I- yes it would be a sin otherwise,” you stuttered out, face growing hot as Ragnar poured himself another glass of wine. “I’m not even supposed to talk about…that,”
“Why not?”
“It is a sin,”
“Why?” he asked, tilting his head like a curious child.
The awkward smile worn on your lips made a real one grow on his face, “Because god said so,”
“Have you spoken to god,”
“Well, no,”
“Then how do you know?” a frustrated sigh left your lips that made Ragnars grin widen. He was getting to you and enjoying every moment of it. he leaned in closer once more, whispering for your sake more than anything,” Why would a god create something so beautiful then not let you appreciate its wonders?”
“It is a sin,” you clung to the excuse, realising you did not know why either.
The laugh that left his mouth however caught you off guard and your lips twitched, almost forming a smile at the smile on his face. That was until he spoke again, “Perhaps we should sin together one time,” he said, standing and grabbing his cup of wine. Before he could leave, he sauntered over to whisper one last thing in your ear, “And the idea of you falling apart on my cock is enough to make me believe in my god,”
A few more weeks had passed and soon you would be heading back with the raiders to their land. Despite still being wary of many of the men some, Ragnar specifically, had grown on you. “Where will I stay when you take me back with you?” you asked one night as you began to brush through your hair.
Ragnar glanced at you as he began to unlace his boots. While he had unbound your hands, he had insisted on keeping you in his tent, thankfully on your own bed, thought you wondered if this was for his entertainment or safety, “I will find somewhere for you,” he answered simply before reaching to pull his shirt over his head.
Despite seeing this sight many times, the way his muscles flexed, and his tattoos gleamed against his skin made a tingle shoot through your spine. “So, I won’t be a slave? Or is it a thrall you call them?”
Ragnar paused for a moment, his eyes scanning over you, “You need not worry little one. I will take care of you,”
A moment passed before you allowed yourself to smile, “Thank you Ragnar,” you said and a small smile crept onto his lips as he settled himself above his sheets, his eyes scanning over you.
“Come here,” he said, nervousness washing over you, “Trust me,”
You paused at first before standing from beneath your covers. Your underdress was the only thing to cover you now as you crossed the tent. Ragnar patted the spot beside him and cautiously you sat down, picking at your thumbs. His hand closed over yours, “You’ll make yourself bleed,” he said, and you just nodded as his eyes continued to study your face.
“Has anyone ever kissed you?” he whispered.
You swallowed before answering, “Once,” you said, tempted to pick at your skin but somehow resisting, “But I wasn’t very good at it,”
“Perhaps you should try again,” he whispered, his hot breath fanning over your skin as he moved to rest his forehead against yours.
“Perhaps you could teach me,” you whispered, a spark lighting in his eyes, “if I am to go back to your land perhaps it is time I Learned your ways,”
“All our ways?” he asked, his hand reaching over to run his fingers lightly up your thighs making you shiver, “Is that what you desire little one?”
“Would it be so wrong if I did?” you asked and the way your wide eyes gazed into his made Ragnars cock begin to harden.
His hand trailed slowly up your leg, torturously so until it arrived at your hip. You gasped when he grabbed it, pulling you over to straddle his thigh. “Ragnar- “you gasped, when he bent his leg up, propping you up on his strong thigh, “What are you doing?”
“Teaching,” his hands reached for your hair, pulling your lips down onto his. This was far different from the last time someone had kissed you. this was rough and needy and made whines leave your throat as one of his hands moved to your hips.
You couldn’t even question what he was doing before he began to move your hip, making you grind down onto his thigh. The way you whimpered made Ragnar wonder if Odin himself had blessed him. Ragnar guided your hips and soon your body took over, rubbing your clit against his strong thigh as his hand squeezed the flesh of your hips.
When he pulled his lips away yours chased after his making a chuckle leave them before he began to kiss down your jaw. “You don’t need to be quite little one,” he mumbled against your skin as a soft moan left your mouth, “No one will judge,”
His lips soon found the crook of your neck, kissing it in a way that made a knot in your stomach tighten. Since your hips now moved of their own accord his hands were free to travel up your frame, taking your tits in his hand and making you gasp as he squeezed them softly.
He felt his cock twitch at the feeling of the Hardened buds beneath your shift. His fingertips trailed slowly around your nipples at first, enjoying your needy whines before he finally began to roll them between his fingers.
“Oh god,” you moaned as he pinched them gently, but your words just made him want you more and groan against your skin.
It didn’t take long for a tight feeling to spread across your body, “What is happening to me?” you asked but it came out as more of a whine.
“Enjoy it little one,” Ragnar said, his lips moving to kiss your check, “Let yourself let go,” he said before your lips slammed onto his even catching yourself by surprise. Your moans allowed him to slip his tongue in, the kiss becoming messier and more desperate as you grinded against his thigh.
He felt your body jerk and Ragnar smirked into the kiss knowing what was about to happen. Your lips broke apart only for your head to fall in the crook of his shoulder, “Oh god,” you began to moan again before you felt your peak wash over you like a tidal wave.
sensing your body tensing and hips slowly Ragnar reached for your hips, moving them for you so he could watch you ride out your peak on his thigh. Curses left your lips before you finally slumped into his chest. Ragnar let out a small chuckle, letting his leg lay flat and holding you against his chest. Ragnar had defiantly made the right decision he thought.
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undiscovered-horizon · 8 months
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"Finnish polka" - Ivar the Boneless x Reader
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SUMMARY: After helping one of the northern Jarls, the Lothbrok brothers attend a celebratory feast. There, they're faced with a tradition of warriors catching flower crowns that belong to young women. How surprised Ivar is when you almost shove your crown into his hands.
WORDCOUNT: ~ 2.1k
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Ivar is tired.
Of course he's glad that Jarl Thorstein came out victorious. And that his brothers are fine. Still, he feels weary as the adrenaline leaves his body. His legs start to ache. Ivar downs the rest of his mead in hopes it makes him a little more deaf to his mood.
The upbeat, bright music fills his mind like an obsessive thought. His heart beats to the rhythm tapped by the feet of dancing women. They spin, jump and run around with flower crowns sitting atop their heads. How the wreaths remain immovable, he can't quite say.
Ivar is also angry.
As the local tradition entails, when the song ends, all the dancing young maidens will throw their flower crowns to the crowd. Whoever catches it, is believed to be the girl's lover chosen by the gods. However, whether the couple indulges and trusts gods' judgement is a different story. But if the wreath falls to the floor, the girl is said to remain unmarried for the next five years.
Ivar knows the chance of him somehow catching one of those is near zero. He's sitting quite far from the dancers. Even if he did catch it, he's disillusioned about the imminent dissatisfaction of the flower crown's ownert. Not only is he disabled in a way that almost entirely excludes him from fighting but he's also infamous for his ruthless nature and vengeful heart. Hardly a man who invokes desire. Still, some naive piece of him remains hopeful that maybe he's wrong. Maybe he can be terrible and loved all the same.
He shakes those weak delusions away from himself before they sour his mood further.
His piercing eyes have been following one of the dancers for the better part of the song when he catches himself. Her movements look effortless even when the musicians pick up the tempo. Clearly, she's done this dance one too many times to have any doubts about what she's doing. Joy beams from her in a way that makes her appear almost shining. The wreath on the top of her head is mostly green with white and red flowers. It makes Ivar think of the woods surrounding Kattegat; it makes him think of home.
Ivar leans toward Oddleif, one of the Jarl's men, who's sitting next to him.
"Who is she?"
Oddleif looks at Ivar out of the corner of his eye. He scoffs, takes a large sip of his drink and only then decides to answer:
"If you're thinking of catching her flower crown, don't." His blond braids dance slightly as he shakes his head. There's a hint of laughter hiding in the back of Oddleif's throat. "Half of the surviving army wants it."
"I have no care for flowers," Ivar lies through his teeth. "They have no use. They wilt and die and soon no one remembers them. I am simply curious about her."
"Her father is the blacksmith. You might have seen him in the battle, swinging that damned sledgehammer." Ivar silently nods. He remembers that man - tall as a pine tree and wider than a stable. The blacksmith invokes respect even when he's not decimating enemies like a troll equipped with a tree trunk. "He said once that he'll let any man marry his daughter but only if he can lift an anvil. Tried it once myself. Not that I had any success as you can imagine." Oddleif laughs bitterly and continues drinking. His eyes are glued to the dancers but Ivar knows that right now, the two of them are admiring the very same girl with a flower crown like a forest.
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The melody continues to quicken. Despite being out of breath, you don't want it to end. Your feet ache but they do not falter nor do they stumble. It seems that their muscles know the dance better than your mind. There are a dozen girls dancing with you but you do not see them. Not really. They appear worlds away from you and the song of bagpipes and strings.
And then appears he.
A slouched, dark figure flies before your eyes as you're doing another pirouette. The man simply sits there, in the corner, but his presence is overwhelming. Or so you think. He does nothing and yet he tears his way into your microcosm of quick footwork, turns and lively polka.
You recognize him. Of course you do. Many whispers, equally frightened and amazed, have spoken of him. You have believed in all of them until the moment you met his gaze for that split second. Right then, somewhere between blinks and breaths, you renounce every gossip you've ever heard about him. A voice in the back of your head, a trickster or an oracle, nags at you to learn the truth yourself.
When the lively, fast melody comes to a stop, you find yourself shaken awake from the thoughts about Ivar the Boneless. The end of the song seems somewhat abrupt to you as you've been letting your fantasy run wild without paying much attention to what's going on around you. Dancing the last part purely by the memory of your muscles. The moment musicians stop playing, a small crowd begins to form in front of you. Men of different class, age and ancestry reach out their hands. Each one of them is more determined than the other to catch your wreath. They start to yell something but considering that the inside of the long hall is awfully loud anyway, you can't make out any words. Reading their lips, you can only tell when they're exclaiming different variations of your name.
They're only pushing towards you, shoving each other away. You keep taking steps backwards but the distance you create with each step is quickly shortened with the men calling out to you. You knew there would be many of them in front of you but never assumed that many. Instead of somewhat flattering, the siege is terrifying and imposing.
Looking for help or advice, just something that will ease your tension, you silently look around the long hall. Your gaze falls on the same slouched, dark figure. Strange peacefulness washes over you when his eyes meet yours.
The dim candlelight seems to bend around Ivar, making his corner appear darker than anywhere else in the long hall. He's simply sitting there. Maybe he's not interested? But the way he's staring at you shows nothing if not burning curiosity. The sons of Ragnar aren't know for their patience. No, they're said to take whatever they want the moment their desire sparks. Despite that, the youngest of them, and arguably the most famous, appears to be waiting. But for what exactly?
The fresh pine needles prick your skin. You furrow your eyebrows. Your gaze falls to the wreath and then comes back to Ivar. Could it be...?
It isn't much of a throw, really. You toss the flower crown towards him without looking anywhere else but into Ivar's eyes. Without as much as blinking, he catches the wreath with ease as though he has been prepared for that. Low murmurs hit your ears but quickly the sounds of disappointment fall silent as it's made clear who caught your wreath. Despite their initial determination, the men who had been reaching out to you suddenly disperse like fog does in the early morning. They knew better than to get under the skin of a Lothbrok. Especially that one.
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"I believe this belongs to you."
Ivar is holding up the wreath. Despite his words, he makes no effort to offer it back to you. His eyes are bright and glistening, the corner of his mouth is tugged ever-so-slightly upwards. He appears amused.
At first, it was nice to finally sit down after dancing for what seemed to be hours on end. But now, when you're facing the consequences of your spur-of-the-moment decision, the tension sets in once more. This time, however, it doesn't feel threatening. In turn, the nervousness is somewhat welcome like the jittery state before a surprise is revealed.
"If I wanted to keep it, I wouldn't have thrown it," you answer in a light tone.
"And why should I keep it?"
The blue eyes study you for a moment. It's a strange feeling - you can't help but think that the longer you are in Ivar's presence, talking or not, he's reading your mind and soul. He stares at you in a way that tells you he already holds all the answers but wants you to confirm them.
"It's said to bring good luck." You shrug your shoulders. "Until the wreath wilts and dies, Freya and Freyr will look after you."
Ivar looks at the flower crown again. Only now, when he's holding it, does he realize that for a flower crown, there aren't many flowers. A few sandworts and poppies, yes, but the wreath is made mostly of evergreen plants. It might take weeks until the crown wilts.
The microcosm seems closed again. Now it's not you and the bagpipes but you and him. It's strange and it's new but it's not threatening. It's not the kind of presence a man of his infamy should have. Or perhaps you've simply fallen for his honey trap.
"Why did you throw it to me?" Ivar tries to make the question seem unimportant, just curiosity brought to light. But he can't quite convince himself that he doesn't care. There's a hint of something vulnerable and genuine when the words roll off his tongue. It's easy to miss like a dandelion clock carried away by a gust of wind.
You wish you knew the answer yourself.
"I don't know really," you say honestly. "Perhaps it was one of the gods that threw the flower crown for me." You make a pause. Ivar's face is unreadable. "Or perhaps I have no interest in urgent, desperate men."
Ivar chuckles. A deep shadow is covering part of his face, making him appear kind of sinister. For a moment, you question whether he's laughing with you or at you.
"And what exactly makes you think I'm not urgent or desperate?" he continues. You notice his smile is growing wider. That glint of amusement in his blue eyes has changed in mischief. "What if I'm worse than all of them? You surely know who I am."
"Of course I do, Ivar the Boneless," you drone the words. In a barely noticeable fashion, he clenches his jaw when you say his name. It makes him feel a strange, burning sensation in his stomach but Ivar is left unsure whether he likes it or detests. "The whispers of your ruthless character are unending."
"But you're not afraid?" he asks with both disbelief and suspicion. A girl with a flower crown doesn't necessarily strike him as fearless in any way. Or this whole strange situation is a little too good, too dream-like, for him to accept it at face-value.
Ivar's smile falters when your face takes on a confident, maybe even arrogant, expression. He's taken aback.
"I'm a woman of the North," you say while leaning towards him on the table. The distance between your faces shortnes. "The only person I fear is my own reflection."
The sudden closeness makes Ivar inhale sharply. The strong smell of pine needles fills his nostrils. For a moment, his imagination runs wild but it's not his fault - he has no grasp on it:
How those big eyes glistened in the semi-dark of the long hall as you were staring at him. Your smirk, somewhat challenging and beckoning him to push on. Then, the smell of conifer that shakes all senses awake. His fantasy leaves the northern snows and travelles to forests, to him brushing pine needles from your hair and your naked, flushes skin smelling of evergreen trees.
But quickly his shaken awake, to his utmost displeasure, by you:
"Well, if you don't want it, I suppose I should take it back, no?"
Your hand unsurely reaches out for the wreath in Ivar's hand. He's quick to pull his arm back.
"It's bad luck to take back gifts," he states plainly. In an act of nonchalance, Ivar is playing with the wreath, spinning it around his finger. "I should like to keep it."
Sometimes you come back to the night you've met the infamous Viking, when you're rendered sleepless while he's calmly breathing next to you, getting the rest he desperately needs. How funny all of it seems - that a flower crown in bloodied, merciless hands could lead to having a genuine crown on your head. Maybe you were right, after all, and it really was the hand of one of the gods that threw the wreath for you.
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squishycheekanon · 2 months
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La da de da viking Price for the win🛡️🌺
Your heavy snow boots trudged through the thick mounds of pure white snow, the freezing breeze was pinching and nipping at your cheeks. The cold had began to hurt your nose as you breathed, the back of your throat dry. Trying your hardest to keep warm, you shove your chin and mouth further into the top of your coat and breathe out hot air.
You only wanted to hunt for food and go back home, but seeing as you couldn’t find any animals near your little cabin, you had to venture elsewhere for the hunt. Something you annoyingly regretted the further away from home you got.
An exaggerated sigh left you for the twentieth time today as you knelt down on the ground feeling the snow start to soak into the material of your trousers. Pulling your bow off of your body and an arrow from the quiver that was strapped to your back. You drew back the string of your bow, holding the arrow steadily in place.
Closing your eyes, you waited. Listening oh so carefully, for anything. The sound of any animal to make itself known to you. A while passed, all you could hear was the soft wind and a nearby steam trickling quietly.
Until the snort of a deer had your eyes shooting open and your weapon aiming at the creature. Exhaling slowly, you let go, the arrow whipping through the air heading straight for the unknowing animal but ultimately hitting a different target. A huge gasp left you as you watched the arrow go straight into the chest of a man, the deer snorted before running off.
You grunted annoyed and dropped everything to run to the injured man. Your eyes set upon his figure. Large and strong, you recon if you’d hit anywhere else on him that’d he probably wouldn’t have collapsed. Probably would have grabbed the end of the arrow with his big sturdy hands and pulled it straight out like nothing happened. Probably.
The realisation started to set in the more you stared at him, you just shot a man. “Oh my, I’m…I’m so sorry!” You panicked falling to your knees next to him where he was on the ground. His blue eyes meeting yours, looking at you as though you were an alien. His nostrils flared as he quietly grunted, feeling the pain begin to spread throughout his chest and body.
“I was hunting and….and you…y-you stepped in front of the deer. I’m so sorry.” Your hands hovers over his injured while your mind began to become frantic with how to proceed. You eyed the expensive leather that graced his bulky figure. Wrapping around every muscle eagerly. The fur cloak that was spread around him, clearly from a hunt.
It did little to hide the tattoos on his arms. Further up chainmail covered his shoulders proving how sharp you’d made your arrows for it to pierce the chainmail that presumably sat below his tunic and leather. You took note of his face better now, thin lips almost covered by a bushy moustache all connected with thick mutton chops and a full, long beard that caught your attention a little too much.
“Are ya’ done ogling me lass?” He gritted his teeth, wrapping his hand around the arrow and yanking it out. He groaned loudly, deep and rough just like his voice when he spoke. It sent shivers through your body in an unholy way. Nothing like you’d ever felt before.
“Are you a royal from the mainland?” You asked, worry underlining your question.
He bellowed at that, “Ne’er erd’ that one before.” His laugh trailed off as he pressed his fingers into his wound and pulled them away watching the blood drip down his hand.
“My bag.” He was gesturing to the bag that lay a few meters over from where he was. You scrambled to grab it, desperately trying to pull it open. The leather satchel was medium size with about a hundred strings tying it shut.
“W-What do you need?” You were stumbling over your words as you took noticed of the blood that was seeping out of his wound and staining the snow beneath him.
The man grabbed your shaky hands in his and whispered “Breathe.” You listened hesitantly, taking a deep breath.
“Y’know I think I’m supposed to be reassuring you.” A breathless laugh leaving you sounding more like a scoff, he let out a chuckle his face scrunching up in pain.
“In the bag, the bottle with the red liquid.” Nodding quickly, you searched through the bag and pulled out the bottle, pulling the cork out with your teeth and looking at him for instructions. He took the glass container and poured it over his wound and drank the rest of it.
You watched as his heavy panting of pain began to level out. He soon sat up and looked at you curiously, “I’ve ne’er seen ye round these parts before.” He states though you’re pretty sure it was a question, you simply shrug and stand up. He followed suit, a shock jolting through you when he stands only to tower over you greatly.
“I, um really am sorry. It truly was an accident.” You wring your hands together before offering one of them to him. He looks surprised and you don’t blame him, you’re sure a woman has never made this gesture to him before.
“Svo fallegt,” he seemed to look over you for a moment then let his large hand wrap itself around yours with a shake, “S’okay.”You nodded letting go of his grip and making your way to pick up your bow and quiver.
“What’s ya name?” He asked suddenly feeling a wave of panic as he watched you walking away from him. You answered, waiting for his in return. “Price. John Price.”
Now where had you heard that name before?
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classywitchunknown · 13 days
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Another crossover thought
What if characters from tokyo revengers somehow get transported to the vikings show and meet the daughter of Ragnar (aka you). What if they also fall in love with her? How ragnarssons would react to a bunch of guys from another world falling in love with their sister? How would her parents react?
Yn could help teach them the way of her people while they're there (if they ever find a way to get back) since she sees them as fine warriors.
It could be the same beast tamer reader from my last post, or it could be a different version.
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dante-mightdie · 2 months
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Reader offering her body to viking!simon as an appreciation present for protecting her xx
yes yes absolutely yes everything about this is beautiful
c/w: pillaging, death, murder, blood, loss of virginity, p-in-v sex, you and simon have no game, simon is a blunt dickhead
perhaps the village gets raided in the middle of the night :( rival clan tearing through your lovely town and pillaging it. your husband is immediately storming out of bed, throwing on his armor and grabbing his axe. he’s silent when he picks you up, slings you over his shoulder and throws you into the wardrobe,
“stay.” he commands and you respond with a quick nod of your head, looking up at him with frightened eyes until he slams the doors closed
you’re there for a good hour until you hear movement in your home. you think for a moment it might be simon but you soon hear the sounds of wood splintering and crashing as this invader trashes your home
you keep a hand over your mouth, praying whoever this is decides not to check your hiding place. that was wishful thinking, you realise once the wardrobe door is ripped open and you’re met with the cold eyes of a rival warrior who wastes no time snatching you up and throwing you to the ground, desperate screams immediately leaving your throat
you pray that someone hears you but you’re not hopeful when all you can hear through the closed windows is the muffled sounds of screams, cries and burning buildings
you pick up whatever your trembling hands can reach and throw them at the warrior as you crawl back. but everything just seems to be bouncing off of him, causing no damage whatsoever
you close your eyes when you watch him raise his weapon, ready to bring it down on you. tears slip down your cheeks and you flinch, preparing for your short lived life to be over in such a brutal manner
but no such blow comes, instead you just hear the sounds of gargling. when you open your eyes, you see the soldier on his knees in front of you, your husbands axe hanging from the side of his neck as he chokes to death on his own blood
simon is stood above him, chest heaving and rage clouding his vision as he pulls the axe out, swinging it into the man’s neck one more time for good measure
he looks at you, the storm disappearing from his expression once he sees you trembling on the floor below him, frightened out of your mind. with one arm, he effortlessly scoops you up, holding you against him. with his other hand he retrieves his axe from the corpse at his feet
he carries you out of your destroyed home, not saying a word when you tuck your face into the crook of his neck and sniffle
“thank you…” you mumble, the delicate brush of your lips tickling his skin, filling him with a warm feeling that he’ll deny ever existed
he grunts in response, hoisting you up when you start to slip in his grip. he doesn’t speak much, is the first thing you figured out about him on your wedding night
you shield your eyes from the bloodshed and horror that now bestows your village, people of your clan lay dead in the once safe streets. simon says nothing as he carries you away from it all,
“is it over?” you ask, taking your face from his neck to look at him. he gives you a firm nod of his head. you don’t say anything about the dried blood he’s coated in, nor the fact that you can feel it staining your nightgown
after a while he carries you to a secluded part of the village, with survivors gathered around and setting up tents. being the second-in-command to the chief was clearly a perk as you and simon had been set up in a small, cozy cabin
“draw me a bath.” his rough voice cuts through the silence, shrugging off his armor and stripping down until he was bare in front of you. it never failed to bring a blush to your cheeks whenever he causally exposed his naked body to you
he hadn’t bedded you once since you had been married, you had shared once chaste kiss at your wedding ceremony and since then he had barely touched you. he didn’t seem particularly interested in having you perform traditional wifely duties, he never rejected it when you offered to bathe him after a long day or when you had dinner presented on the table for him
you both just kind of exist around each other. it hadn’t really dawned on you that he’s never even called you by your name, only speaking to you in blunt sentences
“oi. did you hear me?” he says, stopping to turn to you when he realised you hadn’t moved from your spot. you shake yourself from your thoughts and nod your head, scrambling over to the fire to begin boiling the water for his bath
he carries the heavy pots of boiling water for you, snatching them from your hands when he sees you nearly burn yourself. once his bath was finished, he climbed into the steaming water
you watch him from the bed, chewing on your lip and playing with your fingers as he scrubs his skin with the soap. his back is to you as your map out the scars littering the rippled muscle
you feel indebted to him. whilst he wasn’t the nicest man, he certainly wasn’t the cruelest. he was good to you in a strange way. he never forced himself on you, even on your wedding night. he had never uttered words with intent to hurt your feelings
you stand from your place on the bed and nervously stumble over to the tub, kneeling beside him. he doesn’t look at you when you take a cloth and begin cleaning his back
he lets his hands fall into the water, leaning forward ever so slightly. you notice how his eyes fall shut. he’s probably exhausted, you think to yourself
“would you like me to brush your hair, husband? I… I can-“ you question, looking at him as you run the soap through his hair and making an effort to detangle the mop on his head
“do what you want.” he grunts, shrugging his broad shoulders and dropping them down with enough weight to make the water splash
you nod your head even though he can’t see you. after a few minutes of, quite frankly, uncomfortable silence, you place the soap down as a silent signal that you were finished
he stands to all his glory, 6’4 with water dripping down from his hair all the way down his thigh defined thighs and back into the water. you immediately avert your eyes when you drag your eyes down to his cock, hanging heavy between his legs and pass him a towel
you gather a comb and place a pillow on the floor between your legs. still not bothering to get dressed, he just drops his tired body down leaving you no option but to spread your legs to accommodate his large frame
you spend a good 30 minutes trying to get the comb through his shaggy dirty blond hair but you eventually manage to tame it into a clean and detangled state. you use a tie from your wrist to tie it up into a messy bun so it will stay out of his face
“I-I’m finished…” you say, placing your hands on your lap to prevent yourself from reaching out and tracing the tattoos on his shoulder blades. as you expected, he just gives you a grunt, his way of saying thank you
you stand from the bed, watching as he moves around the room with his back to you
“simon?” you call out with hesitation, “would you… would you like to come to bed… with me?”
he turns to look at you, his brow furrowed with confusion, “I am… I’ll be there in a minute.”
you shake your head, taking your hand up to untie the front of your nightgown, “no… I mean… would you like to be intimate with me?”
you’re certain that your face must be bright red with embarrassment, but you power through as you slip your gown off. you’re stood naked in front of him, shifting on your feet as he stares you down with an unreadable expression
he shifts his whole body to you now, folding his arms over his chest as he looks you up and down
“say something, please.” you squeak out, your hands coming up to poorly cover your breasts. he lets out a small laugh in response and you think you’ve completely humiliated yourself
“you want me to fuck you?” he asks bluntly, taking one hand down to lightly fondle his flaccid cock. you nod your head eagerly, biting your lip
“you ever done tha’ before?” he smirks, cocking his head to the side. he’s quite enjoying this newfound confidence, if you can even call it that. you shake your head, fiddling with your fingers
“it’s gonna hurt.” he warns, raising his eyebrows and scanning your face for any form of hesitation
“will it feel good eventually?” you ask, a small glimmer of hope spreading in your eyes when you realise he’s actually considering your request. you expected him to shoot you down with a laugh
“maybe.” he shrugs, “you still want me to fuck you, little one?”
his hand is wrapped firmly around his cock now, stroking it until it was fully erect. you can’t take your eyes off it, not even to see the cocky smirk across his face
“yes.” you whisper out, “please.”
he cocks his head to the side, “get on the bed. spread your legs.”
you crawl onto the bed, laying on your back and folding your hands across your stomach. you chew on your lip, your eyes trained on the ceiling. you can’t bear to look at him as you spread your legs, giving him a clear view of your most intimate area
“want me to lick your cunt first?”
his words make your pussy ache. his blunt tone would be horrifying on anyone else but you know him now. it’s just who he is. it’s so amazingly him. the question is followed by the sound of spitting and the slick sounds of him stroking his cock
“I- yes- I just- I’m not sure i’ll like it.” you admit, sheepishly. you glance down when you feel the bed shift and his big hands wrap around your thighs. you see him knelt between your legs, lips inches away from your aching pussy
he grunts, and with no warning, he closes the gap and runs his tongue from your opening then all the way up to your clit. he wraps his lips around the bud, giving a harsh suck
you throw your head back, letting out a stuttered moan. your hands shift from their place to his hair, tugging on it and loosening a few strands which fall around his face
he spends a good bit of time trialling things out, learning what you like based on how much you yanked at his hair or bucked your hips
he slips a finger in your entrance once he’s sure you’re wet enough, groaning at the way your legs slam around his head. the feeling of your thighs clenching around his face makes his cock twitch against the mattress
your cunt takes his fingers greedily, sucking around his thick digits when he slips another one in. your hips buck up at his mouth when he flicks his tongue around your clit
you feel a tightening in your stomach after a fuck minutes of his fingers fucking in and out of you, scissoring them to stretch you wider for him. he waits until he can feel you right on edge and he hears your moans pick up to pull his fingers out
you let out a whine at the lack of contact, handing right on edge of your ruined orgasm
“quite yer whinin’. you can cum around my cock instead.” he groans, pumping his cock a few times before lining it up with your weeping pussy
he places one hand on the underside of your thigh and pushes it up as he pushes in slowly. you let out a gasp and grip his forearm, nails digging into his skin. he doesn’t stop, only slows his pace
“nearly there…” he groans just before he bottoms out, his pubic bone pressed against your clit. he grinds his hips slowly to help you adjust to the feeling of being stuffed full
“do that again…” you whine out, arching your back for him. he grinds his hips a few more times, waiting until there’s no resistance from you before actually beginning to fuck his cock in and out of you
you slam your hand over your mouth when you feel the tip of his cock brush against this spongy spot inside of your cunt
he shifts his position, moving so he’s kneeling on the bed. he wraps his arms around your thighs and tugs you so your ass rests on his thighs
he wraps a hand around his cock, gliding the tip through your folds one time before slipping back inside you. he uses his grip on your hips as leverage to fuck into you faster than before
the room is filled with a mixture of your moans and his grunts along with the sound of his balls slapping your ass
your hands move to rest on his shoulders to keep you straight as he rams his cock into your cunt. that familiar tight feeling creeps up on you soon again. you tap his shoulder lightly
“si- simon… ‘m gonna- fuck-“ you cry out, throwing your head back against the pillows
“me too, little one. come on… cum around your husbands cock…” he grunts, leaning forward to put you in a mating press. his permission was all you needed to let go, your cunt pulsing around his cock erratically
he gives you a few more sloppy thrusts before pulling his cock and out, desperately jerking it a few times before he paints his load all over your tummy. he rubs the tip against your clit to milk your orgasm, the final remnants of his cum dribbling out onto your pussy
he doesn’t enjoy the afterglow of his orgasm very long before he’s standing up and grabbing a cloth to clean you both up. he blows out the candles that light up your bedroom before wrapping you both up in blankets and furs
he lays on his back, tucking you under his arm so you can rest your head on his shoulder. you lay away from him, wrapping your arms around his bicep and pressing your face into the muscle
in tune with his usual character, he doesn’t say a word to you but this is progress, you think. a soft smile gracing your lips as you drift off into a peaceful slumber
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ghouljams · 2 months
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Goose leg locking Viking!ghost…. Ghost holding goose down and fucking her dumb…. Ghoul I’m gonna smooch ur brain
You bounce on Ghost's fat, weeping, cock. Every drag of it, the way the thick head catches against your opening, making your eyes roll back. The angle of your hips, the way he pulls you down to meet his sharp thrusts, you can barely breathe through each deep stroke. You choke on your moans, listening to the half murmured dialogue of your partner. "There you go," he tells you, "taking it so well, just-" he groans, his head tipping back against your pillows. You curl your fingers against his chest, head dropping forward as he keeps hitting something desperate and aching deep in your cunt. You can feel him pounding against your womb with perfect precision, punching the air from you as you shake and shiver on his lap.
More. You shiver, grind your hips more eagerly against him, feel him dragging you back and forth, forward and back, hitting the perfect spot every time until your vision goes white and you squeak with pleasure. More. Ghost grips your wrists and pins them back by your side, forcing you to sit back, your back arching as he fucks up into you. You think he likes seeing you like this, your tits bouncing with each thrust of his cock, and your orgasm shaking through you. His eyes are trained on you with rapt devotion. More. His brows draw together, and he groans as you tighten around him. He's quick to switch his grip again, grabbing your ass and trying to lift you off of him, off the perfect sinful cock that is going to have you coming again if he'll let you. You're quick to fight against this affront, pushing your pussy back down his length, holding you hips down firm against his.
"Sweet'art," he groans, "need ta come, you gotta let me-"
You cut him off with a roll of your hips, fluid and wanting. You press forward, bouncing in shallow strokes up and down his length, laying yourself against his chest and murmuring in his ear. "Inside, inside," you don't care how desperate you sound, it's what you want, what you need, "inside please, please Simon," he stiffens at his proper name but you push through, "want a baby, want you to breed me, please."
His hand wraps around your throat, pushes you back. You scramble to get your hands under you as Ghost flips your positions, pressing you down into the bed while his cock nestles itself against your cervix. He gives a hard deep thrust and your back arches, your hips jerking at the feeling of tight heat ricocheting through your body. "Then we gotta make sure it all stays where it's suppose to, don't we?" He asks, his voice rough, tight with something, it sounds like he's been dragged across rocks.
You cross your ankles behind his back, locking his hips against yours, making his shallow thrusts shallower. Ghost groans low, the sound rumbling through his chest. He closes his eyes, head dropping forwards as his breathing grows heavier. After a second of thought he reaches a hand between you, his thumb brushing against your clit. You jerk in his hold and he chuckles. You get a half second to draw a breath before Ghost is resting his weight on you, his stomach pressing against yours, his body holding you down and forcing your legs to follow where his hips lead.
"Can't let you squirm away," he tells you, "gotta do this right. Gods-" Ghost drags his lips against yours, your mouth open and panting, stuck trying to draw in a breath when every thrust of his hips seems to push the air out of you, "-look'it you, be so pretty fat with my son."
Daughter, you think fleetingly, it'll be a daughter. The thought, just like every other, is pushed far from your mind along with your breath as Ghost's hips snap, his cock punching your cervix before flooding your cunt with warmth. He's kind enough to keep your hips tilted up, his own locked tight against you with the help of your legs and his own stubborn determination.
He all but collapses on top of you when he'd finished emptying his full balls into you. Wraps his arms under you to hold you tight as he sinks his teeth into your neck. You yelp, feeling the sharp points of his canines just break the skin. You don't know what you expect when he pulls away but it isn't his tongue rolling over the blood starting to pool against your skin, or the gutteral, "Mine," that seems to rip from his throat.
"Get to keep you now," Ghost growls, and you can't think of anything to do but nod. You get to keep him too.
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The jarl awaits, basking in the glow of a full, highland moon. What will you offer her, should you accept her invitation?
Keep an eye out for Shield Me Chapter 7 in the next few days. For now, have Jarl Dimitrescu lounging in the moonlight chin up titties out.
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1-800-choke-me · 3 months
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Hvitserk: I sleep with an axe under my pillow
Ubbe: I sleep with a knife under mine
Y/N: you're both pathetic
Hvitserk: oh yeah, than what do you sleep with?
Y/N: Ivar
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motomamita · 4 days
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viking!konig × female!villager!reader
warnings: smut, +18, possesive!konig, breeding kink, kidnapping, mentions of rape and virginity!!
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Viking!Konig who, along with his warriors, disembark in a small village located by the sea. Dressed in animal skins, swords and armor, they enter the village to loot and destroy everything within their reach.
It is then that he manages to spot a small house at the top of a small mountain, not far from all the others. Upon reaching the field, he notices a female figure coming out of the small garden with a basket of tomatoes. It was you, dressed in a long white skirt, a beige shirt and a scarf around your head. You look like an angel fallen from heaven, so harmonious and calm, totally different from Konig's rude figure.
It doesn't take you long to notice that tall, burly man at the entrance to your home, who seems anything but pleasant. You recognize their clothing and the bad intentions that characterized the vikingos. An expression of terror was marked on your face and you immediately ran into your home, shouting your father's name and without letting go of the basket of tomatoes.
Konig's stomach twisted in a feeling of excitement at your reaction, feeling powerful at the fear of the rest of the people seeing him. With his long, muscular legs, he followed your steps to the interior of the home where a series of murmurs welcomed him.
In the humble living room there was an adult couple who looked somewhat sick and next to them was you, who covered 2 small children no more than 6 years old with your body. Konig was tall and in good shape compared to your family, who apparently barely had enough to eat.
"Please, don't hurt us.." sobbed your mother, who brought her skinny hands to her chest, begging.
"We don't have anything valuable, you can check for yourself." Your father spoke now, pointing around you. Konig began to walk around the room, observing everything around him and verifying that there was nothing there that would be useful to him. "The only thing we can offer him are vegetables and fruits from our garden. Daughter, give him the basket of tomatoes!" Your father ordered, hoping that Konig would agree and leave as soon as possible.
You stepped forward timidly and held out the basket with the tomatoes to him, taking a distance and with your hands trembling. Konig looked down at you, smiling slightly at your fear and how you couldn't maintain eye contact with his cold blue eyes. He reached his hand to the basket and took a tomato, it had a good size and color. Without thinking he brought it to his mouth and tasted a little of it, not caring how the juice fell from his lips to his bushy beard.
"And then? What do you think? If you want, you can take the whole basket, it's all yours!" Your father insisted.
To tell the truth, that tomato was delicious but you were even more so. "I'll take everything from the garden... And your daughter too." Konig spoke for the first time, generating a shiver throughout your body.
"No problem. Girl, put on some shoes and go!" Your father spoke coldly, capable of doing everything possible to defend his family, even if it meant giving you away to an unknown Viking.
You sobbed and screamed that they wouldn't let you leave with him, with Konig, but your father did nothing but raise his voice even more and even try to hit you. Your mother and your brothers cried in silence, observing the situation with sadness but without intervening on your behalf. The decision was already made, you were now Konig's property.
It was widely said that the Vikings came to the villages not only to plunder but also to rape their women and then return to their more 'relaxed' ways. Luckily for you, or not, that had not been the case for you. No, Konig didn't just see you as a hole to fill with his powerful semen. But as his property, as something to take care of and defend from the other Vikings who had no intention of formalizing with any woman. He wanted to be the only one with something to fight for and stay alive. And, soon, with whom to form a small family of warriors.
During the short time you had to gather your few things, your father took it upon himself to inform Konig of all the good things you had to offer. You knew how to wash, cook, heal, and, best of all, you were a virgin. That last one excited Konig even more, who was excited by the idea of ​​being the first (and only) to be between your legs.
You boarded a large ship with your wrists handcuffed to prevent you from escaping and an old cloth bag with some items of clothing. According to Konig, none of that would help you in the cold climate of traveling over the sea, plus he wanted you not to wear underwear.
"Look guys! Konig brought us this sweetness to share!" one of the Vikings exclaimed, making all the men's hungry gazes turn towards you. You sobbed at the idea of ​​having to serve as a sexual slave for all those scary Vikings but that idea quickly disappeared when you noticed how Konig approached the man and growled: "don't go near her." Reporting that you were not a common asset to the crew, but his alone.
That same night you slept next to Konig in a more exclusive room than the rest of the men, who all slept in the same crowded place. You noticed that he had a higher rank than the rest, therefore you had certain advantages over the others. Luckily for you, Konig explored your body externally, caressing your breasts, ass and pussy but without trying anything else.
The weeks passed and with them you managed to get used to the lifestyle of those men. Konig had already warned everyone about your exclusivity only with him, so no one ever tried anything with you. Your routine was based on washing and cooking Konig's clothes, cleaning his war wounds and cooking for him and his men. During the nights, you only had to be in charge of helping him bathe and dress the times when he arrived very exhausted, then both of you would just lie down and sleep.
Inevitably you managed to appreciate him and desire the closeness of that massive man. Konig, for his part, also wanted you, demonstrating it in the way that during the night he would rest his big erection against your ass, or how he would sit you on his lap and take advantage of the movements of the boat to obtain a pleasurable friction.
That night, the sexual tension between the two was unsustainable and it didn't take long for both of them to achieve what they had longed for. Due to your tightness and the large size of Konig's member, his first thrusts were painful and uncomfortable. However, he took care of reducing your disagreement by sucking and biting your breasts.
"My little wife- ah I love your breasts and how tight you are.." Konig growled, bringing his hands to your hips, using you as his personal fleshlight.
Slowly, his long and thick cock entered completely inside of you, feeling a sensation of simultaneous pain and pleasure. His hot breath and masculine scent made your walls wrap even tighter around him, causing him to moan loudly.
"Mine, only mine. This pussy belongs to me, your breasts belong to me, you belong to me completely..." he murmured, bringing his mouth to your ear and lightly biting your lobe.
His thrusts increased along with his grunts, you sobbed with pleasure at the way his hair pubes touched your clit. "Konig- I want more.." you stammered, not quite able to formulate words.
"Huh? You want my cum? You want me to fill you up inside?" He asked as his pace became more clumsy, announcing that he was about to finish.
And so he did, filling your entire interior with his powerful semen that, after 9 months later, took shape into 2 chubby and healthy warriors.
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