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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

#mw2 #cod mw2 #ghost #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost simon riley #ghost call of duty #ghost mw2 #simon riley x you #simon riley smut #viking!simon

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ghouljams · 1 month

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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.

#cod x reader #x reader #simon ghost riley #x oc #cod x oc #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #viking!ghost #oc: goose #theyre both insane and feral but theyre feral together

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gremlingottoosilly · 4 months

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Eat your Young (viking!Konig x fem!Reader)

You weren't afraid when the Vikings came. Your ruler pays them well, and they protect you from enemies far worse - there is nothing to worry about as you, an unmarried maiden, wander into the embrace of one of them. They are on your side. Right? Tags and CWs: Age gap, size difference, Konig is a bit obsessive and a huge perv, mentions of violence, Vikings Are Actually Kinda Nice No For Real, hand jobs, oral sex, naked man/clothed woman, slightly historically inaccurate, jokes about inbreeding Thanks to @angelbabysblog for the idea. I changed quite a lot because I was reading articled about how many of the Slavic cities were actually cool with Vikings and worked with them AO3

The Vikings are here. Your Father never allowed you to meet them before – as an unmarried girl, even if you’re already of age, it would be…scandalous. Not smart. Dumb, really – everyone knows that girls that are messing with the warrior from overseas often end up being taken away. And you couldn’t survive sea travel. The Vikings are here, but it’s not really a problem – you know that there are other countries over the sea, the countries that die and burn every time a ship is sailed in their harbors. You also know that you do not live in a country like that. That sound of Vikings approaching is a good one – that you’ll be protected from the other enemies your country has. You always stole glances, despite what your father has told you – you were a curious thing, always searching for trouble, always interested in everyone outside of your small village. You’re on the border – stuck between sea and great plains, open for any enemy if it weren’t for mercenaries who deemed this place as worthy of their camp. They live here, occupying the territory outside – even build themselves houses, despite every rumor calling them nothing more but overseas barbarians who would tear you down for a flick of a coin.

Well, you always thought you’d have nothing to worry about – you are not made of coins, after all. The Vikings had a leader, the one that stayed in the long house just outskirts of the village – the one that would always visit the elders, discussing the payments and the spoils of war. Father always punished you if any nosy neighbor would see you sneaking out to look at the warriors – but you couldn’t care less. If you are going to end up in a marriage with a fool, you could at least steal a few looks at the real men. Not the ones from your village – they felt more like brothers than anything else. Some of them were – second, third, fourth, just diluted enough to make the babies a bit less disfigured.

But, oh, nothing compared to the vikings. You see them when you run for the lake, far from the shore. They are clean – cleaner than sailors from Byzantine who sometimes stumbled upon the small village by the sea. You think you heard them talking about how cleanliness is a sin – and just how silly it sounded. You think you didn’t like people from this place very much – sailors were often drunk, always handsy and never spared a kind word without an insult…not that you knew their language – but you are smart enough to know that if a man is attempting to grasp your breasts while sneering something through his teeth, it won’t be a love poem.

— What are you doing here?

Ah.

You were spotted. Like a fox in a hunter’s trap – you are standing in the tall water grass, looking at the man through the weeping willow branches. Maybe, if you are lucky enough, he’d think you were a mavka, trying to drown him – some men were foolish enough to fall for the act, sparing you the consequences of your curiosity. You aren’t sure if the Vikings have legends of mavkas – if they even have lakes back where they are from. All travelers are mixed in your head – desserts, great plains, barbarians who would steal your sisters if you’d been blessed with some. Sea beasts who will take you on your ship, away from your father and…ah, it doesn’t sound too bad.

— Can’t you talk?

His voice is rough, and accented. Younger than you thought he would be with a body like this – a seasoned warrior, ginger hair covering his muscular chest and a small trail falling down his…

Viking knows your language. Shouldn’t be surprising – they are working for the elders and your ruler, after all. They get gold from your village, they get food from your village. They get sons – you heard about at least some of the women falling pregnant to the guests overseas. No one dares to say anything against it – but the rumors are still falling. You wonder if it’s as bad as it sounds. — I can talk.

This sounds dumb, but there is no use in hiding. Your intentions weren’t innocent – you are curious and curiosity is what leads to the devil. Or god of death. Or goddess – you are not well-versed in matters of spirit and while half of your village is still worshipping old gods while the other preaches about new, stronger ones, you wonder what kind of beliefs Vikings have. You heard their women can wield magic – and can count. And read. You would love to read, you think. — Gut. Thought I spotted a Margygr.

The word is weird. Rough. You don’t know what that is, but you certainly aren’t one. You take a step forward, not caring that your linen dress is getting drenched in water – not caring about what your father might say after. You would just tell him you wanted to go and drown since he was so adamant on marrying you off to some one-eyed half-wit quarter brother of yours. He wouldn’t be surprised – and you probably wouldn’t be missed. A whore to be, as some older women from your village would say.

— What is that?

He tilts his head to the side, his blue eyes looking at you. You notice a piece of cloth in his hands – something that must have been covering his face, you think. He is covered in scars and dirt, blood from some battle is getting washed away into the water of the lake. Gods, you say to yourself – you won’t even be drinking from it again. Although you promised it to yourself a few years ago already, when you spotted a dead deer lying in the water – and it’s not like you held to your promise. Better than seawater, after all. — A…drowned creature. Drowning creature. Your people are calling them… — Oh. Mavka. — Others call it mermaid. Selkie. Mermaid sounds harsh too. Rude. Other languages are rude – still, you would like to know more. Still, you would like to do anything to get out of your village. Learn to read. To write. Maybe hold a baby goat close to your chest and not have it ripped away for the nearest dinner.

— I’m not…that.

— I can see.

He laughs and you steal a peak at his manhood. You should be ashamed, really – if your dear mother was alive, she’d beat you up for being so immodest. If your dear mother was alive, you wouldn’t be allowed to sneak out like that – but she isn’t, so you stare at the man who can crush your skull in one hand. You stare at the trail of ginger hair going down his waist. The muscles flexing and the scars on his hips, glossy from cold lake water.

Hm.

Is it supposed to be this big?

He coughs and you peek to look at him again. Coughing isn’t good – he can be sick. Contangenous. There is a sickness coming around from sailor to sailor – you wonder if vikings have it too. You don’t want to get sick – but it would surely keep you out of marriage for a long while. Maybe, if you’re lucky enough, you could be buried like a pretty maiden. White dress and mourning relatives. That would teach them how to send you off to marry some dumb cousin you never knew before. Or knew too well. — You shouldn’t come here, Schatzen.

— Why?

— My men won’t be as nice as I am when they see a maiden in the lake.

You smile, tilting your head to the side. There are rumors – you can’t invite foreign mercenaries into your country without them taking their toll on the locals. Some people like them, some people are scared of them. Some are going out of the ordeal pregnant and some are not returning at all. But, you can run. But, this is your lake. You like it here – the quiet, the tranquility. You think that if your father proceed with calling you an old bride who should be married as soon as possible, you could just run away and live here. Fish is nice and there are berries when it’s not too cold. — Where are your men?

You never saw Vikings in battle. Never saw a group of them up close – you’d like to, of course. There are warriors in your village, but their best shot is wolves and deer. Not other men – you think you’d like to see war sometimes. Maybe, all the boys of age would die and you won’t have to worry about anything anymore. You would be nice as a local witch – or a local healer. Old hag sounds nice too. — Around. Waiting for the order. — What order?

You ask so many questions, König thinks. Pretty thing – smart, too. You aren’t afraid of him, even though you have to be. Most women would be screaming and crying if they saw someone like him in the lake next to them. Not Viking women of course – but people from around here are soft. Cherished. Coddled. You also seem soft, too soft, too gentle – a woman living in a small village on the shore without a husband shouldn’t be this careless. König knows you’re just lucky that the ruler of your country is kind enough to pay the overseas mercenaries instead of suffering the pillaging. Not all of people are this lucky.

If he won’t get a promised weight in gold this village won’t be lucky either.

König looks at your sweet face, at the way your eyes constantly dart to his crotch. Curious little thing you are – he isn’t sure if he is that happy that the payments have been consistent up to this point. That he can’t just screw this all over and demand a payment in other ways. That pillaging this village and taking all of its women isn’t really an option while they get their gold from here. Your long linen dress clings to your skin - you’re shaking, he notices. From cold, probably, dumb lady who is too curious for her own good. Hm. He has furs not far from here. He can…

— We’re protecting the shore. The border, too. You smile, nodding. And here he thought the locals knew why the foreigners were here – but he can’t expect too much, he guesses. At least it seems like you haven’t heard of most of his accomplishments. The rivers of blood would be enough to fill this whole lake three times. Or, maybe, you heard – and didn’t care, brave and fearless little thing. König likes the sound of that.

— Are you cold?

You ask him, to his surprise. Your gaze is switching from his face – he is open, cheeks flushed from the cold and a maiden right next to him, and he can’t even find it in himself to cover his scarred mug – to his cock. It’s standing proudly, heavy, balls hanging low as if asking to be held in your soft palms. König isn’t embarrassed – but he is surprised that your body, showing only a little bit in that dress of yours, is already enough to make him this bothered. This ready to give up the supposed protection of this village and take what’s his. — You can warm me.

You tilt your head to the side, mimicking his action from earlier. Curious bird – he could keep you at his ship. Tied up to the post, ready for anyone to use you. You’re strong, and resilient. Should survive the long way home – and he is getting quite ready to find someone at last. If the ruler of your little kingdom won’t be as stingy as the previous one, König can walk away with a sack of gold hanging on his shoulder. Enough for him and for him men. Surely enough to sway you. — How?

— Do you have a husband?

He knows, you probably don’t. A husband wouldn’t allow his wife to run around and flirt with other men – and if König was yours, he surely would keep you locked in like the treasure you are. There is too many men ready to take what doesn’t belong to them.

— No. And I won’t.

— Why? — Soon I will be too old to be a bride anyway. Not that I want it. He laughs at that. Surely, little bird, it wouldn’t be your choice. If the luck is on his side, it wouldn’t even be the choice of your father. — Touch me, Schatzen. You want it, ja?

He says this with more awkwardness than before. Swaying women by his side isn’t his strong suit – and even with his strength, not many of them would just throw themselves at him. Being a mercenary leader might bring him money but with the whole team consisting of equally strong and handsome men, the broody leader usually isn’t the first choice. He gets his fill eventually – but not the one that would make his heart flutter. With you, however… Your hands are traveling down his abs. Caressing every bit of skin you see – sending goosebumps down his navel and straight to his hard and leaking cock. He wonders if you’ve done this before – but your actions are the one of an explorer, not a professional. YOu grab his cock with both hands almost as if strangling him, and König lets go with a choked moan.

You retrieve your hands, nervous. Good girl. Eager, pretty. Such a shame this village usually pays its tolls. — Are you hurt?

— Nein, it’s…go on. You proceed to touch him, the softness of your touches is making him groan from pleasure. This is something else – you’re something else. Having the power to bring a seasoned warrior to his knees – god, how much he liked the way you looked at him. Eager and curious, always going down to touch his cock some more. You press your palm together, making s steady rhythm – using the pre-cum from his cockhead like a lube.

König relishes in the feeling – he might be one of the strongest soldiers, but it was the first time he felt victorious. With your hand pumping his cock up and down, the pleasure settling in his stomach and threatening to burst, he felt like a king. No, the king. Gods, you were beautiful. Worthy of throwing this village into the fire for. Worthy risking the payment. Your mouth is warm on his manhood – he didn’t expect you to be this active, to wrap your lips around the bulging head and bop your head just a bit. Up and down. Tongue swirling, as if tasting him. Making him sweat that you will decide to take a bite out of it, just to satisfy your curiosity. To his peace, you didn’t. He came shortly after you decided to put your mouth on him – when your tongue started to swirl around and collect the bitter taste of his pre-cum. When your curiosity about foreign warriors bathing in your lake finally made you do something about it – and he would feel bad about pressing a hand in your hair and forcing you to choke on his length, your nails digging small red paths in his pale thighs. You choke and squirm and cry and this is the sweetest sound he ever heard – so when he finally drags you away from his cock, smiling as you wipe your mouth and whimper. Squirm again, some more. The light in your faded a little as he pushed one calloused finger into his mouth and pushed your lips apart. Poor thing, he thinks. — You did good, little bird.

His seed tastes weird on the tongue. You wince, but swallow – it’s what good brides should do, you think. Somehow, looking at this warrior, you don’t feel so bad about being considered a bride. Maybe…no. You stalled here for long enough – you saw the Viking. You touched him. Tasted him. Father is probably looking for you.

You don’t even bother to say goodbye as you come out of the water – but König stops you right on the edge of the lake, firm hand on your shoulder. Squeezing. Touching. Feeling.

— I…I apologize, maiden. I lost control.

His voice is hesitant. You don’t like how unsure he sounds. It made you feel unsure too. Weird. Uncertain and meek.

— Are you going to leave soon?

He stops mumbling, looking into your eyes. This is settled – he is not leaving you here. You must return to your family, say your goodbyes. Maybe enjoy a few weeks of peace before his troupe finally gets a clearing on killing whatever enemies grouped at the border – and he will take you no matter the payment your ruler can give him. Nothing will be worth more than you.

— Yes. Yes, I will. You turn away, almost running. He didn’t stop you this time – you need to get as much freedom in your lungs as you can. He will take you eventually and, well…you best enjoy freedom as much as you could before this.

When your village will burn along with all the cousins, half-triple brothers, and elders, you’ll find out why most countries fear the Vikings. When you will be hauled to the wooden ship over a giant’s shoulder, with his hand sitting firmly on your ass and his other palm preventing you from screaming, you’d know why taking the attention of overseas mercenaries is a bad idea. When your ruler would refuse to pay the warriors for their service and force them to just take everything by force, you’d know why making payments on time is so important.

When König would finally make you his wife, you’d understand why you should have drowned in that lake instead.

#cod #konig x reader #konig #yandere konig #cod x reader #yandere cod #call of duty #cod x you #konig x you #konig cod #cod konig #yandere x you #yandere x reader

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unoislazy · 6 months

Note

Hello ! Sorry for my bad English, it's not my first language I do my best

First of all, I love how you write <3

Second, my request would be Hiccup getting jealous and confessing to fem!reader by accident

That's all !

Thanks for writing so well, I send you a little kiss

Hello!

Congrats you’re my first request!

I hope I could do your request justice, enjoy

Just Talk To Me!

Hiccup x Reader

Word Count: 2.8k words

Summary: You and Eret have gotten pretty close due to your constant fighting practice. Of course, a certain chief isn’t too happy about it but he has a bit of trouble trying to tell you why.

————————————————————

“You’re getting better at this!” Eret praised, ducking under your fist as you swung at him. He continued to dodge your strikes as you smiled.

You both had begun sparring together a few months ago, after the whole Dragon War fiasco. You realized that without your dragon, you weren’t as strong or as agile as the other Vikings, so you asked Eret to help you train.

You swept your foot under him, finally taking him down and putting your foot on his chest, signifying that you had one the fight.

“Have I gotten better, or have you just gotten worse?” You asked teasingly, taking your foot off of him as he smiled up at you.

You held out your hand to help him up. He obliged, taking it as he stood up once again, wiping off his clothes from that dust that truly didn’t even seem to be there.

“You’ve certainly made improvements since day one. I can tell you that.” He said, stretching a bit. “You could definitely do well even without your dragon, if you’d ever need to.” He continued, looking back at both of your dragons who were simply chilling off to the side, as they often did when you two fought.

“Hopefully there never comes a time.” You said in a lighthearted tone, but you truly hoped there would never be a time where you’d have to fair without your dragon.

“I second that. It’s funny, I never thought I’d ever change my ways when it came to dragons. Yet here I am, looking after this beast.” Eret joked, patting Skull Crushers head lightly causing the dragon to groan and slightly shake its head in response.

“Well I’m glad you had it in you to change, who knows maybe I would’ve taken you down myself.” You gloated sarcastically, walking towards the pair as Eret smiled back at you, acknowledging your joke.

“Yeah you wouldn’t have made it even close.” He let out a chuckle as he watched your teasing smirk turn to a pout. You knew his teasing was all in good fun but realistically if it had come to it you would’ve taken him out if you needed to.

“Just cause I’ve gotten better doesn’t mean I wasn’t skilled to begin with.” You reminded.

“Fair. Now how about best two out of three?” Eret asked, getting into a fighting stance which you very quickly mimicked. Just as you both were about to start fighting you had heard a very familiar growl come from above. Your head shot up towards the noise and you spotted none other than Hiccup Haddock, the chief of Berk, flying above you.

“Guess not.” You joked, no longer standing in a ready position as you turned to face the aforementioned chief who had landed not too far away from the both of you. Hiccup hopped off of Toothless with ease, slipping his helmet off in the process, and walked over to the two of you with Toothless close behind.

“Morning you two.” Hiccup greated, earning a nod of acknowledgement from the both of you. “What are you guys doing all the way out here?” He asked but you noticed it wasn’t in the sense of his usual curiosity. There was an underlying tone that you could quite put your finger on so you figured you were just simply thinking too much into it.

You hadn’t really thought about it but you suppose you and Eret were more or less in the middle of nowhere in the woods. It was the most quiet place the two of you could find to practice in peace without going to the Arena.

“Eret and I have been sparring, I figured I should eventually learn how, considering most of my strength comes from them.” You said, gesturing to your dragon who was sleeping peacefully only to be startled awake by Toothless patting them on the head. You couldn’t help but laugh a bit, Toothless always reminded you of a cat in a way, you found it adorable.

“Alone?” Hiccup asked, which honestly surprised the both of you. You looked towards hiccup in confusion only to see the shock he had on his own face. Clearly he didn’t mean to let it slip out but it was too late to take it back now.

“Well no… our dragons are here with us?” You stated but you were so confused about the reasoning behind Hiccups question that you couldn’t seem to phrase it as anything other than a question. You all fell silent as Hiccup swayed his arms in an awkward fashion, something he only does when he’s trying to avoid talking about something.

Eret looked between the two of you, realizing he had no part in the conversation he simply cleared his throat.

“I’ll just leave you two be, I have some… things to take care of..” He excused himself, quickly hopping onto Skullcrusher and exiting the awkward situation as quickly as possible. Once Eret had flown away you quickly turned back to Hiccup who was clearly avoiding even looking in your general direction.

“Spill it.” You said bluntly causing Hiccup to finally make eye contact with you. His face held a confused look but you both knew what you were talking about.

“I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.” Hiccup said, again clearly avoiding the topic as he walked over to Toothless. “Have you seen the new addition I added to Toothless’s tail?” It was clear he was trying to think of anything to change the subject because obviously there was nothing different about Toothless’s tail and you both knew that.

You crossed your arms as you stared at the brunette before you, your face holding an expression that clearly said ‘seriously?’. He dropped Toothless’s tail with a sigh before getting up and walking towards you. Silence quickly swept over the two of you as you continued to wait for Hiccup to say something. You raised an eyebrow at him before he blurted out,

“Have you seen the new scale armor?”, giving one more quick shot to derail the conversation.

“Hiccup.” You said quite sternly. “Spill it.” You repeated, your arms still crossed over your chest as you watched the man nervously fidget. He may be the chief but he still held some of his nervous quirks. Sure he had the ability to look powerful and calm when his people needed their chief, but when he wasn’t the ‘Chief of Berk’ he was just Hiccup.

Just Hiccup.

And you’d be damned if you said you didn’t love him. Ever since you met hiccup you knew he always tried to meet everyone’s expectations only to have a long history of falling short. Hiccup as he was was always overlooked, everyone looked to him to be ‘the Chiefs son’ the ‘next chief of Berk’ and the one he really struggled with, was ‘Stoick’s son’. No one ever truly looked at him as just Hiccup.

Well everyone except you.

You liked him from the very beginning when he was just a scrawny boy obsessed with earning his fathers approval. Did you have the courage to say anything about the way you felt? No of course not, why would you? As much as you loved to see him as ‘Just Hiccup’ you couldn’t deny the fact that he was still pretty far out of your league, especially given his title of ‘The Dragon Master’. What title did you have? Nothing.

Well you had the title of being one of his closest friends so you stuck with that as being enough for you.

“I just don’t think you and Eret should be so far away while training.” He finally spoke up. It was clear he was still keeping something from you but at least he gave you something to work with.

“Why?” You asked, trying to nudge more out of him. He put his hands on his hips. As he began to pace slowly in a circle.

“I don’t know, I just think it would be safer if you-“ Hiccup began only for you to cut him off.

“Hiccup we have two dragons here, one of them being Skull Crusher. I’d say it’s pretty safe to say nothings going to attack us out here.” You argued, now mimicking his pose with your hands on your hips.

“Well still I just don’t like the idea of you guys being alone.” He said, looking up at you. You rolled your eyes in response,

“Hiccup I already said, we’re here with the dragons. We’re not alone.” You stated as if it wasn’t getting through his head. It hadn’t even occurred to you that he was trying to hint at a different concern and you were missing the point entirely.

Your response only caused Hiccup to groan as his hand shot up to his face. He dragged his hands down his face as he turned around, now facing Toothless who simply looked at his friend in utter confusion. The dragon looked from you, then to Hiccup, then back to you. You simply shook your head with a shrug of your shoulders before Toothless walked away, deeming him your problem.

“Hiccup I don't understand why this is such a big issue to you, we used to be in the woods alone all the time together. You didn’t seem to have a problem with it then.” You stated quite bluntly.

“That was different!” He shouted. His face had ever so slightly turned the faintest hint of red, but it was still enough for you to notice. He seemed almost exasperated as you continued to swim around the very vague point that he was failing to get at.

“How was it any different than what me and Eret are doing? If anything it’s safer now because we’re both adults. Granted we did have a Night Fury with us back then…” You began to mumble to yourself, accidentally going off topic. Hiccup sighed, walking up to you and grabbing you by your shoulders. He was stern but still managed to be gentle as he forced you to look at him.

“I can’t control what you do or who you spend your time with, but I just don’t like that you and Eret spend so much time together, so far outside of the village, alone…” Hiccup said, practically laying it all out for you.

“Hiccup?”

“Yeah?”

“We’re not alone.”

Hiccup merely stared at you, eyes wide in shock as he tried to calculate your intelligence in that split second. He practically spelled it out for you and you still weren’t getting it.

What hadn’t occurred to him however, was that you had already caught on, you were just trying to get him to admit it himself. Granted, you had just caught on maybe seconds before, but you still thought it might be fun to mess with him a little. Besides, who were you to make the assumption that the Chief of Berk himself was jealous that you were spending time with another man. It could be considered a reach… Unless he just said it himself.

“Why don’t you want me to be alone with him so badly?” You asked, figuring you should try and at least break the loop that you two seemed to be stuck in.

“Because…” Hiccup began, trying to think of a way to phrase what he wanted to say. You waited patiently, just looking at him and occasionally switching your gaze over to the dragons who were chasing each other around.

“Because?” You repeated, waiting for his response. His green eyes staring back into yours. They looked almost as if they were trembling as they bounced between the features on your face.

“Why is it so hard to talk to you?” He shouted abruptly, quickly letting go of your shoulders and flung his arms into the air with an exasperated groan.

“If it was easier for you to tell me about the dragon you were keeping hidden from a village filled with bloodthirsty, war hungry Vikings, I’ m almost afraid of whatever this could possibly be.” You joked, trying to lighten his mood.

“It’s not the same thing.” He muttered in response as you laughed.

“How could anything you have to tell me be worse than that?” Hiccup sighed in response as he went back to pacing. Clearly it was his way of thinking about what to do next. It wasn’t a trait he often exhibited but you knew once he started pacing, whatever he was thinking about was pretty serious.

“It’s not about what I have to tell you, it’s about your response.” He finally said, you rolled your eyes lightheartedly. You’ve known this man for years, and in those years you’ve learned countless embarrassing facts about him that he had less of a problem about you knowing than ‘whatever he had to tell you’.

“What does my response have to do with anything? Hiccup, anything you have to tell me won't change anything.” You stated with a laugh as you tried to comfort him. You almost started to second guess what you thought he was going to tell you. If he was truly this worried about what he was going to say maybe it was actually a very serious matter?

“Ha, yeah you say that now.” He laughed sarcastically, quickly looking up at you before returning to his pacing.

“Hiccup, I'm serious.”

“So am I.”

If there’s one thing about Hiccup it was his stubbornness. Anyone would just shrug that off as a Viking thing but you knew if anything, it came from his father. As much as Hiccup would deny being able to compare to his father, he shared many similar traits with him. You knew it, his mother knew it, even Gobber knew it, but he frequently denied it.

Stubborn.

“Why are you so concerned about me and Eret in the first place?” You decided to bring up the last topic, because if he wasn’t going to get to the point, you were.

“Because…” He muttered quietly in response as if he was holding something back.

“Because what hiccup? Seriously, I know you have an issue with communication sometimes but you can't just keep dancing around the issue here-“ You rambled a bit but before you could continue, Hiccup interrupted you.

“Because I have feelings for you!” He blurted out suddenly.

You both froze. He turned away from you as you simply stared at him. He finally said it, he actually really said it.

“Hiccup…” You muttered quietly.

He didn’t move. He didn’t want to move. The last thing he wanted right now was to turn around and have to face the potential of rejection.

“Hiccup.” You called out again, walking towards him and lightly placing your hand on his shoulder. He finally turned towards you slightly, but he still refused to face you all the way. “You’re serious?” You asked, to which he simply looked at you with confusion.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“At least one of us finally admitted to it.” You joked. For some reason Hiccup had registered that you were making a joke, but not necessarily what you were joking about.

“Yeah okay, go on, laugh it out- wait.” Hiccup quickly turned back to you. You nodded with a smile, confirming his suspicion as he clearly thought he had misheard you.

“Wait but- for how long?” He asked excitedly, almost as if he didn’t believe you. “Oh this is great! I thought you were going to hate me for even saying anything about it, but you’re not! You feel the same-“ He cheered, slightly beginning to ramble as all of his previous anxiety seemed to just melt away.

You smiled as you watched him celebrate before quickly planting a quick kiss on his cheek.

The man froze before you, clearly not expecting even such a small act of affection. You never knew him to be entirely bold, you always saw him as a very awkward man, but you watched as the awkwardness practically jumped out a window for a split second or so as Hiccup grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer to him.

He was the last person you’d expect such a smooth act to come from, and honestly you didn’t mind it. His eyes drifted from yours to your lips in a matter of seconds as if he was silently asking for your approval, to which you nodded.

Before you knew it you were kissing the literal man of your dreams.

It was wonderful.

It was a very soft kiss, the perfect kind to be shared for the first time.

Once you pulled away you looked to hiccup before dramatically gasping.

“What? What is it?” Hiccup asked, panicking that he had done something wrong.

“Does that mean… you were jealous of Eret?” You asked with a joking smile.

“Oh come on- really?” Hiccup said, jokingly pushing you away with a laugh.

Safe to say you never let him live this moment down, and much to his dismay you had excitedly told your friends about it not too long after.

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srjlvr · 9 months

Text

,, is that seat (=are you) taken? ”

IN WHICH jake’s being forced by his friends to sit on a roller coaster next to a pretty girl he saw in the amusement park.

non-idol!jake X fem!reader | g fluff , crack(?) | wc 1.3k+ | w second hand embarrassment , mentions of food , clowns , scary rides. | not proofread | ✎ ᝰ (‘a note from jo’) . i thought about this while being in my favorite amusement park! the ending is so bad honestly im so sorry in advance

it was an event day at the amusement park, people such as influencers and wealthy families were invited to enjoy the scary rides and free food.

“please, i can’t go there alone!” your friend begged you for hours. “no way! you know how scared i am of rides!” you scoffed.

“i’ll be with you on every ride i promise!” at this point she was already holding your hand while kneeling. “fine”

“jake! you promised you’ll come with us!” his friend jay claimed, “promised when? i can’t remember that part” jake shrugged.

“that one bet we made and you lost then begged us to spare you” sunghoon who was busy playing on his phone suddenly spoke, “we let you off under one condition which is to come with us to an amusement park”

jake rolled his eyes, “please don’t force me to-“ “a deal is a deal” jay pat jake’s shoulder.

you stood by the gate, lots of clowns and food tracks were exactly on the entrance, “i’ll just stick here with the clowns and the food” your legs took you to that way, but your friend was quick enough to stop you.

“no way” she dragged you, “we’ll be going to the viking first!”

“i hate you for making me do that” you said as the safety bars went down, “you’ll enjoy it don’t worry”

you sat at the right end, you’re faced to those who sit in the opposite side. there were three handsome boys, each one of them is more scared than the other.

the boy on the left looked so done while the other two grabbed each other tightly while shouting.

“jake! stop grabbing onto me you have sunghoon on your other side who’s just as scared as you!” you heard one of them shout.

the boy in the middle, which you assumed was jake, kept laughing while sticking to the other boy, which you assumed was sunghoon.

the three of them looked really cute, but jake is the one that caught your eye. especially his “please stop!” shouts and the fact that right afterwards he proceeds to laugh and rest his head on his friend’s shoulders is what made you smile without even noticing.

“y/n is everything okay?” your friend asked you while the ride kept on going—you completely forgot about that part.

“yes im fine!” you shout back. you took her hand and held her tight, “don’t make me do that thing ever again!” you added while shouting nonstop.

your friend couldn’t stop laughing at your cuteness, and apparently, she wasn’t the only one.

the boy who was sitting on the opposite side glanced at you, you were so cute and adorable to look at.

while being freaked out, he took a few moments to stare at you. you were busy shouting and tightly closing your eyes while he completely forgot about the fact that’s he’s sitting in one of the rides that he hates the most.

he giggled and chuckled to himself looking at your annoyed figured while your friend was busy laughing at you.

“finally! this hell is over” you whined but your friend only smirked, “let’s go to that roller coaster!” she pointed at the scary looking ride.

you gulped heavily, getting all stressed and worked up, “no!” you shout.

your friend however, couldn’t care less.

“jake what was that on the ride?” sunghoon asked him. “what do you mean?” he tilt his head in confusion.

“you couldn’t stop staring at the girl that was sitting at the opposite direction!” jay claimed.

“she was pretty cute” he admitted and giggled. jay and sunghoon looked at each other with a wide smirk on their face.

“you got yourself an amusement park crush” jay put his hand over jake’s shoulder, “is that even a thing-“

“let’s follow them to the next ride” sunghoon dragged both of them after cutting jake.

your friend excitedly jumped up and down as you were waiting in the short line while you glared at her, fiercely shooting your imaginary laser eyes on her cheerful face.

“we’re going to have so much fun!” she clapped.

you were too busy to whine and scoff to notice someone was actually talking to your friend from behind.

“jake, this is your shot” sunghoon prepared jake and massaged his shoulders, “you can do it”

“hey! im jay, this is sunghoon and jake” jay spoke to your friend, “don’t mind these dummies” he rolled his eyes.

“our friend jake here seems to be interested in your friend!” he then whispered, “is there a chance you could help him out?”

you friend nodded and smirked, “leave it up to me”

the only one standing in the line was you and your friend, the three handsome boys you saw back then, and two more couples—which means the roller coaster was technically all for yourselves.

only eight seats were occupied as you and your friend sat down. you put your safety belts on and looked over your friend, who suddenly stood up.

“y/n! i have to go now! i totally forgot something in the viking and i have to get it before someone steals it!” she panicked, “go on the ride without me”

“wait no! i’ll go with you!” you tried to get out—but you completely forgot the safety belts were already locked, “i’ve got to run! i’ll go on the ride with you as soon as i get back i’m so sorry!” she said as she left you there, with an empty seat next to you.

“now’s the time!” jay pushed jake towards you and clapped.

you were slowly starting to panic and lose it, until you noticed a figure standing next to the empty seat.

“um…..” he scratched his nape “are you taken….?”

the figure was the cute boy from before, jake if you recall.

sunghoon, jay and your friend who were secretly watching from afar cursed him and shook their head in disappointment.

“did you really just made me skip this ride just to watch this guy awfully flirting with my friend?” your friend asked as jay and sunghoon begged for forgiveness.

“wait no!” jake awkwardly chuckled “i wanted to ask if that seat is taken”

you looked around and to your surprise, all of the other seats were empty as well.

“no, but there are plenty of empty seats…” you raised your eyebrow.

“yeah i know” he awkwardly giggled, “i—uh i like the place you’re sitting in like you know it’s not the first seats and it’s not the last seats it’s somewhere in the middle yeah”

you awkwardly nodded and signed him to sit next to you, “i’m jake” he said.

“i’m y/n” you chuckled.

you tried to let go of the nervousness, not only you’re sitting next to the cute guy you just met, you’re about to experience hell itself.

as you slowly arrived to the highlight of the ride, you held jake’s hand and he quickly shot his glance at you, “i’m sorry i’m just so scared” you said but all he did was to hold your hand tighter.

soon enough, you were already shouting your lungs out, holding tightly onto each other and closing your eyes as tight as you could.

“y/n i have a confession to make” jake suddenly shout, “what is it?” you answered back in between your shouts.

“i really meant to ask you if you’re taken” as he finished his sentence the ride stopped.

“what” you quietly said. jake’s eyes widened as he tried to find the words to explain.

“no, i’m not” you added and he breathed out.

“you actually caught my attention ever since i saw you on the viking” he smiled, “my friends planned all of this, i apologize that it happened to be on this hell of a ride”

you giggled, “it’s cute”

“are you up to spending the rest of the day together? just to get to know each other” he suggested.

“yeah, let’s do that” you interviewed your hands and got off the ride.

your friend stood there, speechless and betrayed while jay and sunghoon laughed their ass off, “i can’t believe he managed to do that” sunghoon hit jay while laughing.

“it’s all your fault” your friend rolled her eyes, “but at least she won’t whine about the fact that she’s lonely all the time”

#enhypen imagines #enhypen drabbles #enhypen #enhypen reactions #enhypen scenarios #enhypen fluff #enhypen oneshots #enhypen jake #jake headcanons #jake oneshots #jake x reader #jake imagines #jake fluff #jake drabbles #jake scenarios

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heliads · 3 months

Text

boy; girl; dragon

Hiccup only needs two things. He knows he can rely on both forever.

masterlist

There is a boy, and he has a girl. And also a dragon.

The order matters. He had the girl first, even if he didn’t know it yet. She didn’t say a word to him about the feeling beating against the bars of her ribs like a dove in a cage, not until he did first. The dragon helped things along, surprisingly. Usually, fire-breathing reptiles can only complicate a situation, but when two young people are soaring through the sky with only the billowing light of the sun and stars around them to bear witness to the truths they have to tell, secrets end up not so secret anymore. Hiccup told you he loved you. You said the same.

The dragon watched, and listened, and waited. It, of course, had known the whole time. Almost everyone did. Tact is a rare occurrence among the Vikings, but the people of Berk could tell that interference in the story of you and him, him and you, would not bode well. You and Hiccup were something different, something special. You didn’t need anyone but each other. And the dragon.

Loving a Viking is dangerous. Loving Hiccup was so far along the line of adventure and risk that even your first kiss felt like throwing off your armor to embrace a knife in your chest. If this was pain, though, it was the loveliest anguish you had ever experienced in your entire life. Falling in love with Hiccup was brilliant, like dragonfire; exhilarating, like tumbling in freefall; unfailing, like the son of a chieftain knowing that he would send his entire village to keep you safe from harm or die trying. Staying in love with him was soft torchlight, quiet mornings, wispy clouds around your temples when he took you up to see the stars. Easy. Perfect. And yours, all yours.

The two of you are together now, sitting side by side on the edge of a cliff. Most of Berk is rocky with occasional splashes of slate blue or chestnut wood to break up the monotonous grey, but tenacious patches of grass have managed to crawl up to the top of the cliffside here, providing you with a threadbare emerald blanket on which you can rest your legs.

A cool wind whistles through the air, toying with your hair and clothes before plunging off the edge of the rock face. You watch it go, taking a few errant leaves with it, and consider the drop down to the sea below you.

“If I fell right now,” you say to Hiccup, “off the side, you would catch me.”

“I would catch you,” he affirms. “Dragon or no dragon.”

“What if I fell too fast and you couldn’t reach me in time?” You ask.

He takes your hand, voice soft and gentle in the early morning. You’ve heard him louder and more assertive when directing the villagers, but you like him best like this, when Hiccup’s peace is only ever meant for you. There is an entirely different young man who exists only when he’s alone with you, a Hiccup that no one will ever know as well as you do. It is a delight to keep the secret of this second, inner boy. It’s a treasure that will only ever be claimed by you, a sparkling spread of gold and jewels captive to one person and one person alone. Not even blood relations can claim that sort of glory.

“There is nowhere you could go that I would not follow,” Hiccup asserts. “Not off the cliff. Not into the sky. I would follow you past the sun, or a hundred thousand lengths in the sea. I would search the world to find you, if I had to, and I would bring you back with me. Always. Do you believe me?”

“I do,” you whisper. “Always.”

“Always,” he repeats, and presses a kiss to your temple.

This is loving Hiccup, then. Always. Always the guarantee of a heart beating in tandem with yours. Always the confidence that you will not be alone in this world of yours, even as it seems to stretch out forever, even as it looms to hide a hundred friends or a thousand enemies. If the odds are with you or against you, you will have Hiccup to guide you through the trials and tribulations of this life of yours. It is written in the stars, and it is sworn by the one you love. No promise could be greater.

The two of you will descend into legend, into myth, into folklore. Never in the world have any two people loved each other more, and never will they again. Every young pair thinks that they could have this, a love to last a lifetime, but you and Hiccup will do them one better and last a thousand more. You could love him in every universe, every incarnation of yourselves, and Hiccup has already promised to be by your side no matter who you two were. Gods, maybe. Heroes or villains. Ordinary lives or glorious ones. All of them will feature the two of you together. Always.

A shadow briefly blots out the sun overhead, a pair of jet-black wings soaring through the early morning skies. As it loops and wheels towards the two of you, its shade flickers across the trees, dappling them with night’s fury even as the sun climbs higher into the sky. It occurs to you that you’d like every day to start and end like this one, for each one of your hours to be filled with this sort of blissful joy. You don’t need riches, you don’t need a legacy. All you need is right here before you. A boy and a girl. And also a dragon.

disney tag list: @blondsauduun, @lovesanimals0000, @mayfieldss, @eclliipsed, @avadakadabra93

also tagging @hope92100 bc HICCUP

all tags list: @wordsarelife

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wh0reforcoriolanussnow · 7 months

Text

Coming Back || Björn Ironside x Oc

gifs by: unknown & @gifshistorical

Summary: Bjorn returns back to Wessex just in time for the birth of his first child with Evangeline. After being forced into marriage, it is the first time they see each other after the wedding.

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Kingdom of Wessex

“Move it!” Björn yells as he moves past servants and guards rushing around the place. Ragnar follows, amused at his son’s mood. They had just set foot back in Wessex after news came that Evangeline was expected to give birth very soon. Of course shocked, Björn wanted to be by his wife’s side when his first child is born.

The married couple had not seen each other in many months as he left right after their consummating ceremony. Although their marriage was only a political matter, Björn still cared about her.

“Ah, my son-in-law! How are you Björn?” King Ebert opens his arms wide. Björn awkwardly looks to his father before hesitating and moving closer to the King who pulls him in for a hug and a pat on the back.

“My dear Evangeline has missed your presence, but rest assured, her pregnancy has been very smooth. I pray to the God above that she delivers the child safely without much pain.” He does the sign of the cross as Björn slowly nods. “And where is she? The soon to be mother of my child?” His deep voice questions the King.

King Ecbert beckons a servant, “Take them to the birthing room,” And with that, Björn quickly follows the servant, Ragnar following suit but not before giving a look to the King.

The two walk into a hallway where they could already hear Evangeline’s cries of pain. Björn stiffened at the sound of her screams, it was his first time becoming a father so he did not know what to expect. Ragnar takes ahold of his son’s upper arm making him stop. “When you go in there, she is obviously in a lot of pain. Take her hand, comfort her. And pray to Freyja.” He says lowly to Björn who just nods before exhaling from his nose.

The servant waited in front of the door. Björn nodded and the door opened revealing his wife pacing slowly around the room. Her hands on her back as she breathed heavily. Her hair was sticking to her shiny face and her white gown slightly covered with blood. Evangeline had not yet noticed his presence in the room.

Another cry left her mouth as she threw her head back, massaging her stomach as servants press a cloth to her sweaty forehead. Ragnar stayed leaned up by the door, his eyes scanning around the room. “Evangeline…” Björn called out making the princess turn her head to his direction.

In a matter of seconds, she stormed up to him, hitting his chest a few times. “Where have you been! I have been waiting for you-“ She stopped mid sentence as she winced and leaned her head against his firm chest. “Because of you, I seem to be fighting against a demon inside my stomach!” She fumed before she turned back around and continued pacing.

Björn watched his wife in shock as she kept yelling “get out, get out, get out” over and over. He looks behind his shoulder to his father for help but Ragnar only chuckles. “Sounds like a typical Viking baby” He shrugs as Björn walks to Evangeline. He takes her shoulders, “I think you should this to the bed, yes?” He says to her with his slight accent.

“I think that is a great idea, my Prince. Let’s go lay down in the bed shall we?” An older handmaiden gently takes Evangeline’s hands and move her to the bed. Now that he was married to the Princess of Wessex, he was technically considered Prince. It sure was still new to Björn.

Evangeline laid down on the bed with her husband trailing behind, his hand on her lower back. Björn takes ahold of her hand, just like what his father told her to do, placing a kiss on her knuckles before silently praying to Freyja.

“Princess, you need to start pushing!” Evangeline screams in pain but nonetheless pushes. “What are you doing?” She says in between her yells of pain. “Praying to the Goddess Freyja, so that you safely deliver our son or daughter” Björn says as he looks her in the eyes.

She doesn’t say anything but continues to push, tears streaming down her face from the pain she was experiencing. “This baby is going to be the death of me!” She screams before she gives one final push, her hand squeezing hard with Björn’s but he did not mind.

For the first time that afternoon, the villa fell silent until the noise of a baby crying broke it . Evangeline fell back on the bed, exhausted with her eyes closed. Björn stares amazed at the newborn, his child, a daughter. The handmaiden wraps the baby in cloth before taking her to the exhausted mother.

“Look, isn’t our daughter beautiful?” Björn softly whispers in Evangeline’s ear as she slowly opens her eyes, her daughter resting on her chest as tears of joy flow down her face. Björn couldn’t stop smiling at the little human being he helped create.

“She’s beautiful,” Evangeline whispers, looking down at the baby. “What should we name her?” The Princess looks at Björn with searching eyes as he takes a moment to think before looking to his father.

“I think we should name her Ingrid. It means beautiful goddess, because I know our daughter already is one,” He smiles down at the baby, her tiny hand wrapping themselves around Björn’s finger. Evangeline’s eyes move to Björn as everyone in the room exchanges looks.

No doubt were they questioning the name of the Princess’ child as it was old norse originated. “Ingrid. Princess Ingrid. I like that name,” Evangeline says softly as Björn smiles at her and kisses her cheek.

“Where is my granddaughter!” King Ecbert rushes in and stops to see the sight infront of him. His eyes immediately soften before coming to his daughter’s side, Evangeline notices his older brother Aethulwulf standing by the door awkwardly. Evangeline carefully gives her father Ingrid as the King admires his granddaughter silently.

The young Princess beckons her older brother who takes a hesitant step forward. He moves past his father and engulfs the younger in a hug. “How are you dear sister?” He rubs her back as Evangeline lets out a breath. “I’m fine. Though rest and sleep is all I can think about right now,” She chuckles as the others around do the same.

King Ecbert than passes Ingrid to her uncle. Evangeline watch as the two fuss over her daughter as she rests her head on Björn’s chest. “Thank you for being here,” She looks up to him with a gentle smile. He says nothing but moves her closer to him and places a kiss on her forehead.

The door opened and revealed Lagertha and Ragnar. The famous Shield-maiden immediately moves to the bed where the couple laid. She engulfed Björn in a tight hug before giving Evangeline one aswell. Lagertha moves to the other side and Aethulwolf passes Ingrid to her.

“Oh she’s beautiful,” Lagertha softly says, looking at Evangeline and Björn. “What is her name?” She questions as she brushes Ingrid’s cheek. “Ingrid.” Evangeline answers with a proud smile. “Ingrid.” Ragnar nods, moving behind Lagertha to look down at the baby in her arms.

“A beautiful name for a beautiful baby,” Ragnar acknowledges with a smile and winks at the young Princess.

#bjorn ironside x reader #bjorn imagine #vikings bjorn #bjorn ironside #vikings x reader #vikings imagine #ragnar lothbrok #lagertha #king ecbert #aethulwolf #Evangeline Princess of Wessex #bjorn lothbrok #dad!bjornironside

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astroboots · 11 months

Text

Every You Every Me #Issue 5

COLLABORATED WITH @thirstworldproblemss

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x female reader

Summary: You finally catch Spiderman in your bed and try to get answers to the many many questions you have.

Word count: 3,200 words.

Content: Awkward one bed shenanigans, teensy bits of angst

Series Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist | Astroboot’s Masterlist | thirstworldproblemss' Masterlist

[Previous] [Next]

You wake to the glare of the morning sun spilling through the curtains.

Your first waking thought is that it. is. so. bright. God, why is it so fucking bright.

Your second thought is that you need to pee.

There is no third. Because your bladder is killing you.

There's just one not-so-small problem, and he's lying on top of you, in the same position he fell asleep in last night. Wrapped all around you, clinging on like you're a soft comfort blankie he refused to be weaned off of.

It's not... unpleasant, exactly (your need to pee aside).

For such a large man, being trapped underneath him is more comfortable than you might have expected. He's heavy, sure, but the pressure feels more like a weighted blanket with the way he's draped across your body, arms curled around your waist and back.

It helps that the sheer size disparity means that you're too small of a surface area for his whole body to cover and most of his weight rests on the mattress.

Rather than suffocating, it’s almost… cozy.

It must be really early in the morning, because your room is nearly silent. You can’t hear the familiar New York traffic. The noise of honking cars, angry shouting people and screaming cop sirens outside of your window. Instead, in the quiet of the morning the only noise you hear is the sound of his soft snoring against your collarbone.

Before today, you never knew superheroes snore. It’s not the sort of mundane thing you ever think about superheroes doing.

You stare up at him for a minute, soft skin and long lashes fluttering across his cheeks, marveling that he looks so... human.

Which of course he does. The observation shouldn’t really surprise you. For all the fantastical mythos that surrounds them, at the end of the day, most superheroes are human beings.

…Unless you're talking about Thor, of course, who’s an actual Viking God. And maybe not Hulk either, because... well... look at him. He’s all green and roided out, you don’t know what he is but he’s certainly not human. And then there’s– Okay, you know what, now that you actually think about it, a lot of superheroes are not human at all.

Maybe that’s why last night took you so much by surprise. You always thought they were invincible. You’d never guess that a slice of coffee cake could bring one down, collapsing as easily like a poorly built house of cards.

Even more surprised when he’d held onto you, pleading for you to stay.

When you see the Avengers plastered on the front cover of every newspaper, they look larger than life. When you see Captain America and his star-spangled shield sparkling in the centerfold of the Times, you never really stop to consider, what’s he like when the mask comes off.

In some abstract way, you were aware that superheroes have lives beyond just superheroing. You just never thought about the fact that a lot of them probably have families at home that they worry about. Friends that they care for. People they miss.

Nena

He'd said.

The person he mistook you for last night.

Something squeezes uncomfortably tight in your chest just remembering the tone in his voice when he said it.

Something is going on here. It's clear to you now even more so than before, that this man doesn’t just keep saving you out of sheer coincidence. There’s a mystery here that’s all tied together in an interconnected web somehow and you're pretty sure it has to do with this Nena person. She is most likely the answer to why your whole life has been upended in the last few months.

You need to find out what is going on and now that he's physically here, right in front of you, as soon as he wakes you can finally ask him and get some answers that are long overdue.

You just really need to fucking pee first.

Gingerly, you wedge an arm between your chest and his. You attempt to slowly and carefully pry open the stranglehold he has on you, hoping to scoot up and out of his arms.

He grunts in reply, still soundly asleep, and his arms tighten their hold on you, pulling you back into him as he burrows his face into your chest.

"Five more minutes," he grumbles, voice raspy with sleep. "Nena, it's too early."

There it is again, that nickname. You freeze, holding as still as possible, feeling your heart skip a beat at the tone of his voice as he said it. It’s said with so much fondness and hints at so much familiarity each time he has said it.

You don't know what you're meant to do in this situation. Except you clearly can’t let him go on thinking you’re… whoever it is that he thinks you are for much longer.

There are the muddy moral implications of allowing this to go on any further after all, considering that the man probably has no idea where he is after you practically roofied him with baked goods.

You also still really need to go pee already.

He shifts against you, one thick, heavy thigh wrapping over your leg and pulling you in further before coming to a rest directly on top of your bladder. Okay, fuck, you take back what you said about this not being unpleasant. This is really, really unpleasant.

You need him to get up now.

Forcing your hand free, you reach up to give him a polite tap on the shoulder. When polite doesn’t get you any results, you do it harder, three successive taps, and he still doesn’t even stir. You keep tapping, progressively harder until you’re punching him hard enough that any normal person would be yelping in pain and begging you to stop.

He groans once, arms shifting to secure his hold on you. For a moment you think he’s going to ask for another ‘five minutes,’ but then the whole of his body goes stiff, every muscle suddenly rigid with tension. A suspended silence permeates the space, and you find yourself holding your breath unsure of what to do next. The silence is broken by the sound of your bedsheets shifting, and you feel the firm hold around your waist ease off, his arms and legs retreating from your body.

He's up and out of bed in one smooth move, almost faster than you can follow. By the time you struggle upright in bed (much less gracefully) he's already standing a few feet away, hands fisted at his sides.

“Sorry,” he says, looking at you and then off to the side like he can’t quite bring himself to meet your eyes, a bright flush burning high on his cheeks, “I… uh… I thought you were someone else."

His hulking frame towers over your bed, but he’s acting like a sulky, embarrassed little boy. The contrast should be absurd, but instead you find it… strangely endearing. Apparently even a high and mighty superhero can be brought low by an awkward situation, just like everyone else.

"It's okay. You didn't... um... do anything weird or anything," you say, trying to reassure him, but you can't concentrate on your words when your bladder is screaming bloody murder, "Look, can you give me a second? Just– shit. Just stay right there, okay? I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere!" you admonish him, throwing the words over your shoulder as you rush past him and into the bathroom

You nearly break your tailbone with how fast you sit down on the toilet seat, hoping to get your business done as quickly as possible and praying the whole 15 seconds that you’re gone that he won’t make a break for it and still be there when you get back.

Thankfully, when you nearly tear the bathroom door from its hinges, he is.

The first sight that greets you is his broad and defined back framed by the amber light pouring in from your window frame. It makes for a dramatic image. Golden and majestic, he seems to occupy half the space in your tiny apartment as he stands turned away from you, apparently taking in the view from your one and only window.

The first thing he says to you as he opens your mouth is not, ‘good morning.’ There's no ‘sorry for almost drunkenly smothering you to death last night,’ ‘how did you sleep with my hulk sized body on top of you’ or even a 'thanks for letting me sleep on your bed.'

No. Rude, knock off, maybe-vampire Spiderman, who still hasn't told you his name, slowly turns back towards you and takes one look at your face. Then he says, "I have to go."

Which, of course that’s what he’d say and do. Of course. You’re nearly growling with frustration as you run up to him.

"Wait!" you shout, darting around to block his path as you try to lead him back further into your apartment. "Do you want some breakfast?"

You still don't know him very well yet, but your few interactions so far have shown you that the way to break through his grumpy defenses is through his stomach.

"I can fix you up something. I’ve got some eggs in the fridge, and I can do scrambled or fried. Maybe over-easy, though I sometimes mess up the timing.”

You’re rambling on purpose. Speaking as fast as you can, as you continue to pull him towards your kitchen. You’re making sure he can’t get a word in edgewise, so that he doesn’t have a chance to protest before the food is in his stomach, and by then he’ll surely eat the whole thing before he starts getting sassy with you again. By then you’ll hopefully be able to sneak in one or two questions between mouthfuls.

He shakes his head, "No, I–I have to go... I wasn't supposed to..."

Not a fan of eggs, you note. It makes sense, so far the only thing you've ever seen him eat is baked goods, probably has a sweet tooth.

"I could make you pancakes? I won't even put coffee in them, I promise," you tease gently, hoping the humor might pull a smile from him.

It doesn't. If anything, his eyes look even sadder.

He stops mid-step, and no matter how much of your weight you put in trying to herd and push him towards your kitchen, he won’t budge an inch. You’d have more success moving a bull by its horns, and considering he’s bigger built than one, that tracks.

There’s no strain in his features, as he stays still, resistant to your efforts. "This is a mistake,” he says. “I should never have gotten involved."

He's moving again, this time away from you, stepping towards the window. Shit, he's going to make a run for it.

In the course of the last 24 hours you've managed to leap off the Chrysler building; poison the superhero standing in front of you; slept with him in the same bed; and yet somehow, through all of this, you still haven't managed to do the one thing you actually wanted: have a simple conversation with him.

"Wait, wait!" you shout out, panicky. "Can we just talk for a second? I really need to talk to you. I just want some answers.”

"I don't have any answers for you," he says.

He's turned his back again, one hand on the window sill as he's preparing to climb onto it. If you let him leap off it now, you don’t know when your next chance will be to catch him again.

"I'm not going to stop trying," you shout out in a last desperate attempt and that finally stops him in his tracks.

“I’m gonna be leaving,” he says with a finality in his words.

It doesn’t stop you though, doesn’t even discourage you. He might be stubborn, but you can give him a run for his money, because this is your life on the line.

“Then I’ll run after you. I’ll keep chasing after you. I'll keep asking, and asking, and asking. I'm not going to stop until you give me some answers."

There’s a silence between you again. Then he straightens his posture, and turns his head just far enough that you can catch his eyes. Whatever uncertainty was there before fades away as you see the resolve in his eyes harden.

"You're never going to see me again."

There's an ugly noise. A scratch over the vinyl of a record screeching in your brain that makes you unable to comprehend his words. You have to replay them in your mind, parsing them out, before you realize what he's actually telling you.

“Wait, what do you mean never see you again!?” you step forward towards the window sill, and he visibly retreats at your advance. “As in, you're going to back to avoiding me? It’s kind of late for that, isn't it? I've seen your face... twice. We’ve slept together!"

"No," he answers brusquely, brows pulled in at a sharp angle. “I'm leaving the… area. I'm not going to be around anymore."

“But you’ll be back… right?” you ask. Some corner of your brain refuses to accept what you think he’s telling you.

With a graceful movement, he leaps back down from the window sill, taking a step forward and leaning in until he’s looming over you, his face inches from your own.

“No,” he repeats, emphasizing the word.

Oh…

His words finally click. It took a few attempts for the stubborn gear in your brain to unjam, but you finally hear what he’s been trying repeatedly to tell you.

He’s leaving for good. He’s not coming back.

You… You don’t know how you feel. Your cheeks are strangely numb. Somehow the idea that he might not be around indefinitely had never occurred to you. You’ve grown accustomed to the safe haven he’s provided. Come to rely on him and the familiar safety of his shadow lurking around every corner, the blurred blue and red rescuing you from this crazy world trying to kill you.

A flash of cold sweat breaks out along your back. His presence is your only anchor to safety. If he’s not here…

"But– but– if you leave…” You trail off, barely able to imagine it.

All the near-misses flash through your mind. The taco truck stampeding through the city, the subway train barrelling towards you, construction sites crashing down right above your head. So many deaths held at bay by the one man in front of you, and if he leaves… If he’s gone…

You can barely choke out the next words, your voice a strangled whisper, “...what’s going to happen to me?”

A flash of anguish breaks through his stony features before he turns away, dropping his gaze to his feet. Pained sadness bleeds into those crimson eyes, something that speaks of guilt, loss and defeat.

"I’m sorry," he says quietly, "I can't save you. I never could. Nothing can."

And what can you say to that? You can’t force him to do more for you than he already has. He’s done a lot—much more than anyone has to, superhero or not, and you know that—and it’s selfish of you to ask more.

You swallow down the anxiety crawling up your throat and it tastes like burnt bile.

Anyone would be lucky to have a superhero save them from certain death even once in their lifetime, and somehow you've been blessed with more times than you can count.

In fact, you’ve been spoiled rotten, managing to escape death so many times that you've grown almost… complacent about it. Expecting him to rescue you, when really you've been living on borrowed time for months now, winning one lottery ticket after another. You've had more extra time than anyone could ever wish for.

In front of you, you see him moving again. If you let him go like this, then this is it. This is where it all ends. Without him, it’s only a matter of time before death catches up with you again—for good this time.

You shake your head, refusing the defeat. It may be selfish, greedy even, but this is your life and you can’t let it end here.

You don’t want to die. You made a promise to yourself when you fell out of the Chrysler building for the first time.

You want to live. You want to live. You want to live.

"Wait! Please..." You grab onto his hand, and even though you have no doubt he could break free from your desperate grip with very little effort, he stops for you.

"I don't know what's going on! Every day I walk out that door, and almost die again and again and again. I'm scared and confused, and it seems like the universe is hellbent on killing me, and you're the only clue I've got as to why. The only reason I'm still alive is because you keep saving me. I know that it’s selfish to ask you this, because you don’t owe me anything. But…”

You pause, drawing in a deep breath, and say the words with your whole chest, “I want to live!”

He doesn’t quite flinch, but the hand at his side twitches and then he’s reaching up to you. So close, you can almost feel his knuckles grace the side of your cheek. Then he stops, a fraction of an inch from your face.

He tilts his head to the side, like he’s listening to something you can’t hear.

Must be some other emergency your unfriendly neighborhood Spider-man needs to be on his way to. You try to push down the unexpected envy boiling in your stomach at the thought.

Although… now that you’re listening, you can hear something too. Something like the low hum of a helicopter, growing louder all the time.

Must be a police chopper. Traffic ‘copters aren’t allowed to fly so low.

Abruptly, the light flees your apartment. Shadow sweeps across your window and covers everything in pitched darkness.

A blackout? But it's morning, even if the power went out, the sun should still be–

You feel it before you see it in the dark, a tight grip on your wrist pulling you. His arm slams across your waist, yanking you backwards.

The world lurches around you, receding with a deafening roar of collapsing concrete and shrieking metal. The last thing you see is the wall of your apartment disappearing in a cloud of dust and twisted metal.

Your stomach drops sickeningly. Bright light flashes across your vision in intense rainbow-colored bursts. Pink. Red. Green. Blue. You have to close your eyes as wind whips mercilessly against your cheeks, loud impossible roaring in your ears.

Is this death? Somehow you thought it would be quieter. Calm.

Still.

And then it is. Everything stops, and when you finally dare open your eyes again, there’s…

Nothing.

~ Next Issue

Dedication & Credits: To my lovely collaborator @thirstworldproblemss who is always staying up brainstorming with me, listen to my insane ramblings, plotting each scene in the outlines and helping me beta and edit and even rewrite large chunks of paragraphs I'm unhappy with til the very last minute. Truly my favorite person in all of the lands. I love you!!

#miguel o'hara fic #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fanfic #miguel o'hara fanfiction #spiderverse #across the spiderverse #oscar isaac #spider man: across the spider verse #marvel #miguel ohara x reader #spiderverse fanfiction #across the spiderverse fanfiction #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x you

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aemondtargaryenonlyfans · 11 months

Text

WHAT NOURISHES ME, DESTROYS ME.

Maegor I Targaryen x little sister!Reader

You and Maegor have always been a good team, but when he sits on Iron Throne after your older brother‘s death and doesn't allow you to come to war with him, you have to remind Maegor that he wouldn‘t be where he is without your help.

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT–MINORS DNI; DUB/NON CON, spit kink, humiliating, size kink, size difference, power imbalance, hate sex, canon typical incest/targcest, fighting, violence

WORDS: 2.6 K

NOTES: This was written for @fairysluna and @borikenlove and is based on the scene in Vikings season 1 episode 2 where Lagertha fights Ragnar.

Maegor was only half dressed as you stepped into his chambers. The stool he sat in looked ridiculously small underneath his bulky presence, just like the castle’s barber did. His head was tilted back, allowing the much smaller man to attend to the grooming of his neat beard, and despite his eyes being closed, the smug smirk on his lips gave away he knew it was you barging into his quarters.

“Why must mother inform me that I cannot come to the Blackwater with you, brother?” You all but spat the words out, hands formed to fists at your sides with your knuckles already blanching.

“It is Your Grace for you,” Maegor’s voice drawled as he did not move, voice uncharacteristically soft but still determined to put you back in your place.

Your level of anger did not allow you to pay any attention to it, not caring enough to respect the courtesies. It was surprising that Maegor managed to keep his temper at bay, considering he was far more quarrelsome than you were.

“This was going to be the most exciting battle of my life,” you hissed. “To fly upon Dreamfyre’s back, alongside Balerion.”

“I do not want you to come,” he said, still in the same position as before, though you could hear just a hint of irritation in his tone. “I need to leave the castle in the hands of someone I trust, and there is no one else besides you and mother.” It was a poor attempt of him to lessen your anger, but caused quite the opposite.

Having brooded over it ever since you broke fast, your patience ran thin, and in moments like this, you felt the Blood of the Dragon coursing through your veins.

With quick strides, you headed over to where Maegor sat and snatched the sharp knife out of the barber’s hand, pressing it to your brother’s throat. That seemed to stir him enough to open his eyes, and the familiar purple quickly flickered up to meet your matching pair. You could feel his pulse quickening through the blade, yet you did not apply enough pressure to draw some blood.

“I have dreamt of this many times, and in my dreams, Dreamfyre and Balerion were always together. We were always together,” you tried to reason.

Maegor had your wrist in a painfully tight grip within seconds without giving you any chance to react. The tight impact caused you to sharply draw in some air, before you found yourself being pulled into his lap with an equally tight grip capturing your throat.

There it was. He had snapped.

The sharp blade clattered to the ground as you clawed at his large hand with both of yours, panic settling in your bones. “You would do well to follow your King’s orders,” his hot breath fanned across your face when he brought yours closer to his.

In the distance, you faintly heard the door to Maegor’s chambers fall shut, indicating that the barber had left without a word.

A lightheaded feeling spread throughout your mind with you choking for air, not getting better when his lips captured yours in a kiss that was shy of gentleness and chasity.

When your teeth harshly bit down on his bottom lip, he released you in surprise, seizing the chance to bring some space between your bodies. Upon a closer look, you spotted a few droplets of blood on his pale skin, and your panic was replaced by pride, even if it only lasted for a few seconds.

As his bull-like body rose from its seat and proweld towards you, your head craned upwards to meet his purple eyes. It was a good thing he was not able to see how your heartbeat quickened at his movements, and though he was your brother and twin, Maegor still was unpredictable and always in control.

For a split second, you thought he would actually do something, however, it had merely been an intimidation tactic, a clear warning. He stopped just a few inches shy of you, crossing his rippled arms in front of his chest.

You grabbed a hold of the closest item you could grasp–a candlestick in this case–and proceeded to try to swing it at him, but someone as skilled as Maegor had an easy game ducking and grabbing something to block your attack.

It was obvious that he held back, because otherwise you would’ve been flung through his chambers by now. What you did not notice was that he slowly but surely backed you up against the bed, stalking closer towards you with each step, practically herding you.

“Am I not good enough for you anymore?” You asked, swinging the candlestick at him once again. This time around, Maegor did not try to lessen your blows and just ducked. “Am I not strong enough for you?” When there did not come any objection or reaction from him, you moved to kick him with your foot, which didn’t do more than barely pushing him back. It was clear you did not have anywhere near the physical strength required to move someone of his caliber, more without his compliance.

“Don’t you remember?” You asked–no spat. “I fought with you in the Stepstones. I saved your life.”

By the look on Maegor’s face, he seemed to find a certain liking in your outburst, not because he had not seen you like that before, but because he always enjoyed putting you back in your place after. In that moment you truly were your mother’s daughter, and Maegor loved your mother just as dearly as you. A smirk that dripped with malice was etched onto his features, sending shivers down your spine once you noticed it.

The realization was short lived, because your next blow was seized by him getting the candlestick from you by twisting it, recklessly throwing it aside and demolishing some vessels standing on a chest of drawers. “Without me, you would not sit on the Iron Throne!” A harsh kick of him pushed you down to the bed behind you with him following shortly after and settling between your parted legs, immobilizing you. You grunted at the impact, but where quickly shushed by his proximity.

He had your throat captured once again, but not as tight as before, and allowed you to actually breathe. “How could I forget!” His deep voice rang out, resembling more an animalistic growl than an actual human’s voice. “You keep reminding me,” each word was emphasized with a tight squeeze to your throat, inevitably pushing you deeper into the mattress beneath.

His bulky frame was looming over your much smaller one, the entirety of your neck covered by his hand though he hadn't even splayed out his fingers. Your hand clasped around his wrist with your nails digging into his skin, but he did not hiss at the pain, effortlessly keeping you pinned beneath him.

“I am so angry with you.”

Maegor made it no secret that the whole act aroused him, and shamelessly pressed his bulge against your womanhood, causing you to take in a sharp breath, as you felt your own arousal coating the inside of your smallclothes.

Upon seeing the smug grin that adorned his features, you had never longed more for Dreamfyre to unleash her flames, because Maegor knew you could never say no to him - regardless of how angry or sad you were.

Your eyelids lowered as you looked up and down his stern face, trying to observe his darkened eyes. They met yours, trying to guess your next move.

“Are you sure?” Came as a reply, and within seconds, his large hands had grasped your waist and flipped you over onto your stomach. One of his hands applied a good bit of pressure to the back of your neck, while the other pushed the skirts of your dress up and pulled down your smallclothes in one motion.

As his calloused fingers dragged through your mound, you refrained from bucking your hips into his touch and opted to try to wiggle out of his grasp. Maegor just chuckled dryly at that, and when two of his digits eased into your core, every sense of restraint left your body.

Your face was pushed into the bedcovers, though the moan you released still was perfectly audible to him.

“That’s what I thought,” your twin replied smugly. “You would not be so wet if you really were angry with me, Y/N.”

While you felt ashamed he had noticed your body’s reaction to him, you could not deny that the silence between you was thick with tension, both of you obviously longing for more. And with Maegor being a bit blunter than you were, he had no shame wording his desires.

“Must I fuck some sense into you, sister? Must I treat and fuck you like a common whore to remember you of your place again?”

Even with your head barely turned to the side, you could see the way his bulky frame was looming over your much smaller one, covering its entirety in a mere display of dominance. That alone almost was enough to put you into submission, but a few threads inside of you still clung to the initial hurt of him not wanting you to join him in battle, hence you tried your best not to give in to him.

But still, his condescending words put a bright blush to your cheeks, the color even running down your neck and spreading along his large hand clasping the back of it. “There-There is no-no need for that, brother,” you stuttered, voice not louder than a whisper.

You should’ve seen it coming, but his fingers quickly were replaced by his hard cock. When the bulbous tip of it prodded against your entrance, you already tried to prepare yourself for it, but to no avail.

Being as rough as always, Maegor practically forced himself into your tightness, causing you to cry out - but not in pain or dismay. The daunting size of his cock always rendered you speechless, though it was very much in proportion with his large body.

The pace he set up was reckless and harsh from the very beginning, and whenever the tip of his member brushed the sensitive spot within your core, the breaths hitched in your throat, hiccuping and trying to fill your lungs the short moments he used to draw his hips back.

Instead of being propped up on your hands and knees, you just laid on the bed, unable to move even in the slightest. Maegor seemed to relish in the dominance he held over you, and your body seemed to keen at the realization, too.

Your bodies were an interesting contrast, despite you being twins. His broad and powerful form, even larger than your father Aegon The Conqueror, was towering over, driving into and domineering your delicate body in every possible way.

You fisted the silken bed covers as if your life was depending on it, knuckles blanching from the force in an attempt to keep your body grounded and strong for his reckless assault. “G-Gods… be… good,” you whined through particularly harsh thrusts, your voice increasing in volume.

The sounds of his heavy stones slapping against your slick core and the creaking of the bed probably could be heard by anyone that passed by the King’s chambers and even further down the corridor, but neither of you cared. Maegor and you were dragons, true blood Targaryens that were determined to rule the Realm together. If it was up to him, he’d take you in the Throne Room atop the Iron Throne and have everyone of court watch–or at least hear–the pair of you.

“I am your King, and I expect you to treat me as such,” Maegor growled through gritted teeth, emphasizing the meaning of his words with harsh thrusts of his hips and a tight squeeze of his hands on yours. “Am I understood?”

“Y-Yes, Your Gr-Grace,” you stuttered out, clearly cock drunk.

“Good.”

You were so lost in the bliss your twin granted you, that you had not even noticed your eyes squeezed shut with tears brimming in the corners–until his calloused fingers dug into your cheeks and turned your head to force you to look at him from over your shoulder.

“Not so bold anymore, mh?” Maegor asked, though it was obvious the question was outright sarcastic, not expecting an answer from you. “Where is your confidence now, silly girl?”

As your lips parted in an attempt to hiccup something in return, Maegor seized the chance and spat a thick puddle of his saliva straight to the corner of your pouty lips. A bit of it dripped into your mouth, whereas the rest stayed exactly where he had spat it to.

The second your tongue darted out to gather the rest of his saliva, he pushed his hips into yours harshly and immediately stopped in his tracks while buried to the hilt inside of you, a loud tsking echoing through the chambers followed by a “No.” You stopped–of course you did–and only gasped once you noticed the fullness within you and the warmth of his saliva spreading all over you flushed cheeks with his thumb smearing it.

Shame rose within your body, fighting with the despair you felt at him not moving anymore. You figured it was time to take your pleasure into your own hands, and started to rock your hips against his, though your movements were far slower and much more sensual. Maegor chuckled dryly at that, and released your face in order to serve a stinging slap to your arse.

You squealed and inevitably clenched down around him, resulting in the bull behind you drawing in a sharp breath. “Just as desperate for my cock as any of the common whores in the Street of Silk, I see,” he remarked snakily, the smirk on his chiseled features perfectly audible.

“But I will be no cruel man,” with that, he proceeded to impale you on his hard cock, snapping his hips into yours over and over again, until the familiar coil in your belly seemed to tighten.

There was no one else that knew your body better as your twin, and as if he was spurred on by the reaction of your body to his ministrations, he snaked his large hand flatly underneath your lower body and started to circle his deft fingers around the sensitive bud at the apex of your legs, amplifying your pleasure and your following peak.

Your core was clenching around him so tightly with whines and moans spilling past your lips like prayers, that Maegor barely was able to declare his own approaching peak, only noticing he reached it once his warm seed filled your body and added to the overall fullness you felt.

Without another word and not even the repercussions of his peak fully subsiding, Maegor pulled out and laced the front of his breeches back up. Picking the knife of the barber up from the ground, he trimmed the rest of his beard himself, only sparing you a scarce glance through the mirror.

You rearranged your smallclothes and dress, despite his seed oozing out of your core, and slowly stalked towards him like a hunter. The emotions within your body had calmed, clearing your mind again.

“So, I assume I am allowed to join Your Grace on his flight to the Blackwater?” You asked in the sweetest voice you could muster and even paid attention to the damned courtesies, determined to get exactly what you wanted.

But without even turning to look at you, Maegor retorted a stern “No,” before placing the knife down as he was finished. “You are dismissed now–I have to sit on Dragonback in an hour.”

#maegor x reader #maegor targaryen #maegor the cruel #hotd smut #hotd #house of the dragon #hotd x reader #hotd x you #hotd x y/n #hotd imagine #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon smut #maegor i targaryen

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ohnoitstbskyen · 3 months

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So: for LoL, which storyline is your favorite? And if you were to decide, what direction would you take it?

I mean, my favourite story set in any League of Legends thing by far is Arcane, but I suspect that's not quite what you mean.

Second to that is Ashe and Sejuani, specifically as their relationship is told in the Ashe: Warmother comic. It's a comic about the ways in which their relationships with their mothers shape them into the people they become - both of them consciously rejecting their mothers' legacies, and yet both of them utterly reflective of them.

Like, Ashe's mother Grena is this unflinching visionary, utterly possessed by a dream of ancient legacies, who is at once incredibly powerful and willing to sacrifice any number of lives for her vision, but also vulnerable, flawed and terrified of what her leadership will do both to her tribe and to her daughter.

And you see those qualities emerge in Ashe as she determines to become the protector of the weak in the Freljord, the champion of the Hearthbound and the vulnerable. She inherits Grena's steel-edged will and dedication to a vision of the future, even as she tries over and over again to reject her mother's obsession with ancient glories and mystical names.

Sejuani on the other hand is raised by... well, by a bitter, abusive drunk who sees her as nothing but a signifier of her own regrets and failures, and who projects all her own insecurities and weaknesses onto her child.

And Sejuani grows up both resentfully rejecting all the insecurity and pain her mother has been beating into her, but also inherits her mother's brutality and willingness to see the human beings under her command as disposable objects whose worth is measured in utility.

They are two reflections, two shadows of their mothers, and of the relationship they had to them, sisters by mutual choice and love, who are brought into conflict because their traumas have shaped them in irreconcilably different ways.

It is ENORMOUSLY compelling as a narrative about siblings, and as a framing device for the conflict in the Freljord - especially with Lissandra spooking around in the background as a universal mother-figure for the region, who in turn has her own traumas about being alienated from her sisters in ways that are similar to how Ashe and Sejuani were split apart.

The Freljord sometimes runs the risk of devolving into pop culture viking stereotypes and high fantasy pagan god nonsense (/affectionate, I love Ornn so much), but Ashe and Sejuani and their estrangement, especially as presented in Warmother, brings the thematic core of the region back down to some extremely fundamental questions about how to survive in an abusive environment - whether it be a harsh winter, or a broken family.

Warmother is a fantastic comic, everyone should read it (the art by Nina Vakueva absolutely fucks, and the approach to character design is strong as hell), and it breaks my heart that Riot's management couldn't keep their shit together with Marvel for long enough for it to get any kind of a sequel.

#tb answers #league of legends #ashe lol #sejuani #warmother #freljord #ashe league of legends #sejuani league of legends #sejuani lol

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the-froschamethyst4 · 8 days

Text

Sharper than Steel

𖤐Pairing: Viking! König x F! Reader

𖤐Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐Based on: viking-konig

𖤐Warnings: smut, language, fluff, P in V, dominate König, bit of an age gap, kissing/making out, arrange marriage, wife reader, mention of children, eating out, groping, public sex,

𖤐Summary: Viking König a ruthless clan leader, having a soft spot for his arranged marriage wife Y/n

————

König aka King of KorTac, he was scary, heartless, cruel man or at least he was till he married his now wife Y/n.

She was a daughter of a pig farmer from another village, her parents could pay their taxes for him, so their innocent daughter became the payment instead, Y/n has been with König and the KorTac village for 5 years now, and she has never left to go see her parents in the old village.

Y/n walked in the village a small basket in her hands as she looked for food for her and her husband, König. She was looking at some apple picking out the best ones for König, he was picking they had to be a certain red, no yellow on the apples, no mushy parts, and they had to be from this one farmer because he sold the best ones.

And Y/n went to him every time König wanted apples as a desert. As Y/n was checking out the apples, a shadow loomed over her, turning she looks up.

"I'm trying to get the best for you," she says, hand on her hip, while placing a few apples into the basket and giving the farmer 3 gold coins.

"Are the red? No yellow? No mushy parts as well?"

"Are they from Farmer Luke?" She asked, looking up at her husband.

"Yeah-"

"Then, they are perfect," she tells him.

Over the years Y/n had gained to become comfortable with König, teasing him, being sassy, König didn't know this innocent, young woman, could have such a fisty and sassy side to her.

König placed his hand to his wife's back as they walked to their cabin which sat on a hill looking over the ocean and the village. König was the clan leader, he needed to know if his village was okay or not, so he build his cabin on the highest point looking over everything.

And once Y/n moved in, she changed a whole lot about the village, their shared cabin, and helping the future generation of KorTac. She build a school for the young kids, she held her own classes for the young girls, showing them how to make baskets, blankets, shoes, clothes, and many other things, but most of the girls learned how to make flower crowns instead, which didn't bother Y/n at all.

When Y/n was brought onto the KorTac island she was expecting everyone to hate her, because she was young and was with a man considered untouchable and wasn't able to love, but they loved her because she changed his mind.

Women gifted Y/n things and men treated her with respect, mainly because they didn't want to die by König. You disrespect his wife and your face will have an axe in it within seconds.

Even though Y/n and König have been together for a while, a lot of the villagers ask when will the two start having kids? König and Y/n have never really thought about having kids. Kids weren’t always on their minds, only the village and how to make it better within the years.

No kids

König looks at Y/n as he opens the door to their cabin, she sets her basket down and pulls out everything and starts putting everything in their own spots.

König goes behind Y/n putting his hands on her waist, holding her close. She smiles and looks up at him.

"What is it?" She asked.

"Oh nothing," he wanted something and it was obvious.

"König...just do it," I mean if you give him permission. König turns her around and picks her up lifting her on the table behind her. König leans forward kissing her lips.

His hands cupped her face bring her closer to the kiss, her chest against his and he smirks into the kiss, he brought her thighs up to her chest putting her into a mating press, his tongue slips past her lips and their tongue starts fighting with each other.

König then pins her down, he starts to kiss her thighs, pulling the bottom of her dress up to her waist. He licks his lips and starts to going down on her.

Licking between her wet folds, moans filled the house. König smirks kissing her folds and then his tongue goes between her folds. His tongue then flicks her bud.

He sits up and starts to aligned himself up at her entrance, he slowly pushes himself in. Y/n's head goes back hitting the wood, Y/n then looks down seeing her stomach slightly bulge with his dick inside of her.

She looks up his eyes, he leans down kissing her lips again, his hands holding her waist moving her with his motion making him also groan.

Y/n opened her arms wanting to hold König close to her body, he starts to pick up the pace a little bit. He attacks her neck earning some soft moans from her lips. Y/n then gets her fingers tangled into König's hair.

"Am I too rough?" He asks.

"No," she moans out.

König then moves her hair from her face, he kissed her temple, cheek and lips. König could feel Y/n tightening around him, he smirks and picks up the pace. Sitting up holding her waist moving Y/n fast on his dick. He smirks and felt himself twitch inside of her.

"Fuck," he cusses and looks down seeing cum leak from Y/n's lower half and he pulls out and watch the cum slowly leak from her.

"H-Holy fuck," Y/n says.

-----------

König had cleaned up Y/n as Y/n was near the stream in the backyard washing up her body. She splashes the water on her body, she sits down on a rock and takes in the little bit of sun peaking from the leaves of the trees.

König walks out of the cabin and looks for his wife, he comes out seeing her soaking in the sun and he hears her take a deep breath and release.

"You look so fucking beautiful," he says, stripping from his clothes and joining her, his hands immediately went to her waist kissing her back. His hand cupping her breast as she lets out a soft moan.

König smirks and kissed her shoulder now. "Your skin is so so soft," he says.

"The lady that sells the smell good stuff, she sold me so...lotion? I think she called it, and now my skin is so soft," she says, touching her thighs that were the softest.

König moves his hands from her breasts down her stomach to her thighs, giving her a gentle squeeze.

"Your thighs are so soft," he says, standing up and getting in front of her now, bending down and cupping her face kissing her lips and then her jaw. "Come on...let's...get something to eat," he says.

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

At the dining hall, Y/n was picking off meat from her turkey leg as König was drinking, laughing with his men, men feeling up their wives. The children of the village were sent to bed early, Y/n felt her husbands hand touching her waist pulling her closer to his side.

"You smell so good."

"Lavender," Y/n says. "It's lavender."

"I love the smell," he says, his nose buried into her neck, kissing her neck.

"K-König not here..."

"No one will pay any mind to us, meine liebe (my love), and if so...I'll kill them," he says, looking up and anyone looking at them quickly turned away from their clan leader and his wife.

König picks his wife up and swiped the plate across the table putting Y/n on the table pushing her on her back, he lifts the bottom of her dress to her waist, she quickly tried to make him stop but he didn't. he smirks up at her and kissed her thighs.

"It's okay, liebe (love)."

König then licks his lips like a wild animal, licking between her wet folds, she moans and tried her best to keep quiet but she can't help it, she's loud, and that's what König likes about her.

"S-Stop it, K-König," she begs.

"I know you don't want me to," he says smacking her thighs.

She moans and leans her head back against the table, she was scared that the people might look at her and her embarrassing state, being eaten out on the table in front of all of KorTac.

"K-König," she moans again.

König would trust his tongue in and out of her, earning soft moans and then a loud one afterwards, her fingers curled around the fabric of her dress.

Her knuckles turned white and she felt her stomach start to turn. Her eyes widened knowing the feeling, she grabs König's hair trying to pull him away to make him stop.

"S-Stop, I-I'm going t-," before she could finish her sentence she ended up coming, König smirks and licks the cum that leaked out of her.

She was embarrassed she hid her face from everyone including König, she could hear him chuckling at her, she didn't dare look at him after this moment.

"Liebe (love) come on, look at me," he begs.

She fixes herself and gets off the table and heads out of the dining hall. König's never really taken Y/n on the table in front of everyone, she had the right to be upset with him.

König turns and sees his men not looking at him, he gets up and follows Y/n. She was already almost up the hill to their home.

-----------

That entire night, Y/n ignored König's pleas of forgiveness, she's in embarrassed humiliated. Y/n removed her dress and put on a big shirt that stopped at her mid-thighs. She gets in bed and ignores him.

"Liebe, please look at me...please...forgive me...I'll never ever do that again, I am so so sorry that I did that, I don't know what had come over me. I've never done that, and I'll never do that again, please...forgive me...I can't go to sleep knowing my wife...is mad at me," he begs.

Y/n was looking at the wall not facing him, he sits on his knees on his side of the bed, looking at her back like he was an upset puppy for pissing in the middle of the floor.

"Leave me alone," she says, closing her eyes and moving a bit closer to the wall.

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

The next morning König had gone hunting, he gathered rabbit for himself and fish for Y/n. He knows Y/n hates rabbit, but will eat fish any time of the day (sorry if you don't like fish).

He starts to fix it how Y/n likes it. Speaking of Y/n, she had sat up in the bed, removing her shirt and then got dressed, she sees König fixing the food.

"Liebe, I've fixed you some fish, just the way you like it," he gives her smile but remembering what happened last night.

"No thanks," she declines.

"Y/n...you need to eat."

"Not anything from you...I have to go see the doctor now," every morning Y/n has felt sick, and she doesn't know why, some mornings she would feel sick and then an hour later would be fine for the rest of the day.

"Why are you going to the doctor?" He was worried and confused but she didn't answer him. "LIEBE!" He yells for her.

-----------

"Now Lady Y/n, I did a few tests and after some of the answers you have given me...I think...you may be pregnant..."

"P-Pregnant?"

"Yes, ma'am, are you and King wanting children?"

"We've...never talked about children," she tells him.

"Maybe it's time to let King know."

"Shit..."

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

Y/n was nervous, her and König have never talked about having children. Y/n thought maybe they should wait a while, and König is sometimes gone and will be gone for a while.

König was sharping his axe when sees Y/n coming over the hill, he stops and gets up.

"Y/n? What is going on? Are you okay?"

"Nothing-"

"Can't be nothing if you had to go see the doctor...tell me, liebe (love)."

"....I went because every morning I've felt very sick...this morning I was fine but it comes and goes, but...I'm pregnant, King..."

Silence fell between the both of them, König was stunned and didn't know what to say, he's seen that Y/n was...growing...but didn't want to offend her in anyway.

"Liebe...this is...AMAZING!!" He picked up Y/n spinning her around and kissing her lips and holding her tightly. "Oh I'm glad," he holds her tightly against his chest. "Do we know if it's going to be a boy or girl."

He started to go on and on about everything for and about the baby, all she could do was giggle at him and how ridiculous he was being but she loved him for it.

What happened last night was gone from her memory, she had to start making new memories with her husband and child the way.

----------

It's been a few years now (7) and now King and Y/n have 5 children together, 3 boys and and 2 girls.

König's girls were just like their mother, and his sons were a carbine copies of him.

König stood in the woods with his sons, well playing "hide 'n' seek" as he likes to call it if he can see them or find them then their enemy could see them, he was preparing them for when they would go to battle when they're older.

"I see you Felix," he says, pointing to the tree, his son was behind it. "I see you as well, Claus," he points to a puddle of mud and his son sits up in it. "Claus, go clean yourself up your mother will have a fit if she sees you like that...now...where is Leon?"

He looks around trying to find his oldest son. Leon has grown and is very good at hiding now. Leon was camouflage he had found some leaves and covered himself hiding in some bushes, mud covering his face.

"I know where you are, son," he says as he turns and saw blue eyes staring back at him.

"Dad~" He groans.

"I saw you a while ago, but I didn't want to say anything. I always find you," he says.

Leon wipes his face. "Go clean up all over you," König says.

"Oh Claus," Y/n says trying to clean her sons body. "Why did you jump in the mud?" She asked.

"I was trying to hide, mama," he says.

"Come on," she picks him up and took him to the stream to clean him up.

"Daddy, can you play with us?" His daughters rush up to him, holding flowers in their hands.

"Sure, babies," he says, picking up his second oldest daughter and taking them to the side of the house to watch them start making flower crowns. Y/n had taught them a while ago and now they do it as something natural to them.

"Daddy, here," his daughter Heidi says, giving him one with daisies, dandelions, and honeysuckle. She placed it on his head and his other daughter Emma made him a ring of a dandelion.

"King," König looks to his left seeing Nikto.

"What is it?" He asks, a bit annoyed.

"We need to get ready."

"Daddy, where are you going?" Emma asks.

"I have to go and collect money, babies," he says, he kissed the top of his daughters head and his sons come running towards him even a naked baby Claus.

"CLAUS!" Y/n yells with a towel chasing after the baby boy, she finally wraps him. "You sneaky little boy," she says, kissing his puffy cheeks and he giggles.

"Daddy is leaving, mama," Heidi says.

"Already?" Y/n asks.

"Only for a few days," he says, coming towards Y/n and cupping her face kissing her lips.

"Ewww," their children say at once.

König walks with Nikto to the docks. König was getting weird looks from his men, he was confused till he realized that he was still wearing the flower crown his daughters had made for him.

"What the hell are you looking at?" He threatens his men, who quickly shook their heads and looked away from him.

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dante-mightdie · 1 month

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Viking Price eating out his wife and pampering her after she got better from a very ugly winter cold that could have been deadly🥺🥺

c/w: mentions of sickness, vomiting, death, smut, cunnilingus, public sex bc you know I love that <3

price is very into fulfilling his role in your marriage. whether he likes you or not, he has an example to se to his clan. you both do. it is both yours and johns role to provide a stable example of a healthy marriage

this means sticking to the vows you took on your wedding day. in sickness and in health, he had taken you in your health for months so when you came down with a horrid illness, it was time for him to double down

he took a huge step back from leading the clan, putting his faith in his second-in-command, simon. he spent his time tending to you, never leaving your side. he carried you when you were too weak to carry yourself, like a strong husband should

he bathed you when you had bad days, which was more often than not. climbing into the tub, cradling your aching body to his chest. he lets your body go limp against his as he cleans the sweat off that had clung to your skin during your hot flashes

his fingers would gently rake through your hair, bunching up the strands away from your face as you empty your guts out into a bucket. spewing up the food that john had slowly fed you earlier

there was a time where he prepared for the worst, accepting that he may have to bury his wife sooner than he thought. however, you had miraculously pulled through. price had sent gaz and soap on an expedition to a faraway village to gather some new healing herbs that john had heard about through the grapevine

you were far too weak to make the journey yourself and john had no intentions of leaving your side. the clan praying for your recovery every night before they lay their heads down to sleep

naturally, the news of your sudden recovery had resulted in a huge celebration. a huge feast being held with wine and music and dancing. it was after hours, and all the children of the clan were at home in bed as the adults continued celebrating

john was in his usual seat, at the head of the table. you planted on his thigh, one arm keeping you steadying against his burly chest. soft giggles leaving your mouth as your husband licks and bites at your neck

your hands are planted right on his pecs, loosely squeezing at the flesh there as your husbands hands travel up your skirt. his lips move down to your exposed clevage, dragging his tongue across your warm skin

you reach behind you to grab the goblet of wine you had been drinking from all evening. a blissful feeling bubbling in your gut from the excitement of getting off with your husband in front of all these people

it’s not like you and john are the only ones. just another couple getting busy in the quiet corners of the hall. perhaps because it’s different this time. this is intimate. affectionate. maybe even loving

you take a long drink of the wine before gripping johns jaw tightly and pull him away from your chest, tilting the bottle towards his mouth. with a soft growl, he takes a few big sips before throwing the bottle to the ground and causing it to shatter

the loud, sudden noise attracts a few stares but this doesn’t stop john from placing his large paws on your ass and hoisting you up onto the table. he spreads your legs, making sure both of your feet are planted on the edge before pushing your skirts up to your hips

his hands caress your thighs, squeezing at the flesh there intermittently. he leans forwards and spits a large glob of saliva onto your cunt. the sensation combined with the booze causes you to let out a little gasp which soon turns into a soft moan when he leans forward and wraps his lips around your clit and sucks on it

your husband seems to pay no mind to the numerous set of eyes that are trained on you both in this moment. looking up at you though hooded eyes as he laps at your pussy

his beard against the sensitive skin of your cunt makes you giggle, your brain spinning at the feeling of his warm, wet tongue spreading your folds apart before dipping into your entrance

your tipsy squeals and giggles making his cock twitch and leak against his hairy thigh. he takes one of his hands down to wrap around his cock, pumping it slowly with a tight grip. his other hand travels up your tummy where it meets yours, his thick fingers interlocking with yours as he moans into your pussy <3

#mw2 #cod mw2 #captain john price x reader #captain price x reader #price x reader #captain john price #john price #captain price #price #john price x reader #chief!price

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ghouljams · 6 months

Note

And of course, Witch does notice him. She probably kind of hates him at first for always disrupting her prayers with his languid, confident footsteps as he enters her house under the guise of asking for a very specific remedy. She hates the way her stomach twists every time she sees his rugged face. She hates the way her mind goes blank for a second when his soft, yet commanding voice echoes in her ears.

And she despises how she can’t help but silently gush at every single one of his gifts. How she always puts them in places she just knows she will always see them, and how comforting their sight is. How she feels her gaze soften even just a little bit when he breathes a sigh of relief as she bandages his wounds an massages his sore muscles. How her shoulders suddenly feel heavy with worry every time he tells her he is about to leave for another expedition, barely managing to steel her voice when she tells him to come back in one piece (after all, it’s always a nightmare to rummage through the heavy northern snow to find the ingredients needed to take care of big injuries). How she immediately goes to ask the Gods to watch over him, her hands clutching the necklace he once gifted her.

And, most of all, she loathes the way she loves him, her mind distracting her with many thoughts of him when she has to tend to her duties. She is down bad, and he is too. It’s only a matter of time before they both crumble in each other’s arms under the delectable tension these feelings weave in between them.

Just a little headcanon. Mii is inspired. We love characters who can fit in multiple AUs.

Mii do you wanna just take over for me because holy shit. I literally sat up and rolled my shoulders let's fucking go, I gotta write some fic, I'm inspired but I don't think I can match that because GOD. The mutual pining.

There are small things you do to prepare for men to come home. There are big things too, of course, you bind winds with your staff, you ask the gods for protection, you bless the wives with their husband's safe return. But the small things... You change out the furs you wear, return the silky pelts to their usual hanging place so you don't seem too fond of the man that gifted them. The same with your buckles, your brooches, your necklace. You twist a thin silver band around your finger, like a branch from a willow tree it always strikes you as too delicate to come from a viking. There's no filigree to it, not stones, no patterns, it's simple and well loved.

You do these small things because you loathe the man they represent. He's a distraction from your duties, he clouds your judgement, pulls the spirits from you. He watches you with such bare affection in his eyes that you wonder how it would be to be his wife. How it would feel to wake up every morning to those hands cradling you. Only to have him leave you, the same way he always does.

The gods whisper to you as you sit in front of their alter. Dissonant, clouded by the spirits that guard their realm. Chills wrack your body, your mind far away, drifting through the different planes searching for some new prophecy or vision that might keep your man somewhere closer. (They come to you in dreams, and tell you of new lands, new people, force you on to the elders and tell them to send out a party. You'll never be free of this awful wanting.)

The spirits pull your head back, arch your back painfully to look at the intruder in your temple. "You're always in such a rush to get back here," They tell him, voices overlapping, "is she really so special to you?"

"Of course," Price breathes, his shoulders heaving to compensate for his run to the temple from the shore. His feet carrying his heavy body to stand behind you, what are a few steps when you're at the end of them? He watches as you jerk forward and spit henbane seeds from your mouth, coughing and sucking in breaths to shake the trance. He crouches, his hands reaching for your shaking form. Völva don't live long if there's no one to care for them. It's the spirits, the elders say, no living creature can hold the dead without joining them a little each time.

Your fingers scrape the floor, nails digging into the wood and furs that surround the alter. Hands touch your back, familiar enough to make you shiver and tip your head to look at the man you always send so far away from you.

"Welcome back," He tells you, his voice so soft it feels like a blow. You look away from him, fix your eyes on the carved wood of Freyja's statue.

"I should be telling you that."

Price hums, his hands leave you. It's freezing without their warmth. You're frozen without his warmth, doomed to this until it takes you the way it takes every völva. Stuck, until Hel calls you home. You hate this man, you shouldn't love him the way you do. He shouldn't entertain your affections the way he does. He shouldn't encourage them.

"I brought you something." His furs rustle behind you as you collect yourself. You hear the leather cord of a pouch open and you sit up with a sigh. When he doesn't follow up or press anything into your hands you turn to ask him what he's brought. He presses a berry against your lips and like a fool you take it. It's a slightly bitter burst on your tongue, crushed gently by your teeth into something almost sweet. You eye the pouch in his hands, the bright red and orange berries inside. You feel yourself soften a little, smiling when you meet his affectionate stare.

"Rowan berries," You half ask, your voice feels lighter, gentler, "Thank you." It sticks like a knife in his chest. Something so simple makes you look at him like that, like coming home. Gods what he wouldn't do for you.

He's never seen you use any of his other gifts, doesn't even know if you've kept them. Price had thought something edible would go over well, easier to make sure you were satisfied with it. You reach for another berry out of the bag, the thin strip of silver around your finger glinting in the firelight. His ring. The first thing he'd gifted you, when he'd been overcome by the need to have any foothold in your life. You look up at him through your lashes, pop another red berry in your mouth with a questioning hum.

"Are you alright?" You ask, deft fingers reaching to inspect him, "You're not injured are you?" The concern in your voice might kill a weaker man, surely no one can hold up under your care. Not when you look at them like that.

"No," Price chokes out, gritting his teeth as your fingers brush his skin, "No injuries to report, we've got a healer now so-"

"You don't need me?" You smile when you say it, like a joke, but there's sorrow in your eyes. Price can't stop himself from cupping your face, your soft skin under his rough hand is intoxicating. It makes his heart clench painfully. Can't you see he's trying to ease your burden? Are you truly so wrapped up in völva that you've lost sight of any other value you might have?

"What would I do without you sweetheart?" He whispers. There's a pain in your eyes he can't name. It hurts to see you turn away from his hand. To see you smooth your hands over your dress as you stand, offer him your hand to help him up. You smile, some mask closing off your eyes from him.

"Well, we might as well go and greet the men," You pull on your duties like a well worn cloak, more völva than person when you pluck your staff from the ground, "do our jobs for the elders."

It's a reminder to both of you. The spirits aren't the only ones that keep their eyes on you. Price nods, and follows you out of the temple, pressing the pouch into your hands as he goes.

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unoislazy · 6 months

Text

The Outsider

(Part 1)

Hiccup Haddock x Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: You wound up on the shores of Berk after something… had happened to you. Thankfully someone had found you and reported your presence to the Chief.

————————————————————

Life on Berk was running just as smooth as ever. Well, other than the occasional fire spreading here and there, Vikings roughhousing over the smallest inconvenience, it was as peaceful as an island full of Vikings and dragons could be. That was until one random day, you washed up on shore.

Of course you weren’t noticed right away but it certainly didn’t take long for someone to eventually stumble across you and your tattered piece of driftwood lying helplessly on the sand. You were in pretty bad condition, you hadn’t eaten in days and had several visible injuries that would cause further problems if they weren’t dealt with.

Thankfully the person who had found you knew to bring you the Gothi, the village healer, as well as informing the chief of your unannounced arrival.

You certainly stirred conversations among the Vikings as news spread quickly of your presence. Many murmurs of disapproval circulated as many people believed it would be a repeat of what had happened the last time someone had wound up stranded on the shores of Berk.

Now you lay in Gothis house, on a cot she had set out for you as she tended to your wounds. You were still very much unconscious so you had no idea you had gained some visitors. If you were awake you might have been honored to know one of those visitors was none other than the chief of the village himself, Hiccup Haddock.

Hiccup and his very close friend, who had insisted she’d come along, Astrid Hofferson. Hiccup and Astrid had a somewhat complicated relationship over the years, having dated for a little while when they were younger but decided to break it off because of their differing visions for the future. Thankfully they worked out their issues and managed to still remain very close friends. Astrid often lended a hand in any errands Hiccup often got overwhelmed by, and they worked well together.

Now here they were, standing in front of your unconscious body, questioning what on Earth they were going to do.

“They look to be in pretty bad shape.” Hiccup said, his finger tapping his chin as you looked down at you. His eyes very carefully took in the intricate details of your face, trying to discern whether he’s seen you before. Maybe you were a dragon trapper?

He then looked at your hair, the color and texture not ringing any bells for him. He then looked at your eyes, well more accurately, your eyelids. They lay still and motionless as you continued to sleep which he found quite odd, but then again he figured you were too weak to even dream at this point. Although, he found a sense of curiosity when it came to your eyes, what did they look like? What color were they? Were they pretty?

Stupid questions to ask in a situation such as this.

“Well who knows how long they were out at sea.” Astrid finally replied. It seemed as if she too was looking over your features, not recognizing you in the slightest. She shook her head as if she was answering her own question. Hiccup then let out a sigh, knowing his next point was not going to go over well with her.

“They’re going to need some place to stay while they heal.”

“What?”

Called it.

“I said they’re going to need some place to stay.” Hiccup repeated, as he looked over to the blonde haired girl who looked as if she just watched Hiccup get carried off by a dragon and returned in a matter of seconds right before her eyes.

“You can’t be serious.” She began, the amount of shock evident in her voice suggested she was almost disappointed that Hiccup would even think of such an idea.

She continued, “What do you mean stay? You can’t possibly be thinking about keeping them here.”

“And what if I am?” The man argued, at least attempting to stand his ground. It wasn’t too often he was taken very seriously when he made decisions, but his stubbornness usually won out in the end.

“Uh hello, do you not remember what happened last time we helped someone who wound up stranded on our shores?” Astrid questioned, her hands planted firmly on her hips as if she was a stern mother scolding their child. Hiccup was usually quite a smart leader, but in instances like this, his morals often clouded his judgment.

In Astrid’s eyes, putting others' needs before your own can be very selfless, but when you put someone else’s needs in front of your own, as well as potentially everyone else on Berk? That’s where she starts to have a problem.

“I hear you Astrid but we can’t believe that everyone who winds up on our shore is out to get us, besides look at them. Who would injure themselves for the sake of taking over the village?” He asked genuinely, gesturing towards you. Thinking back to when Heather had arrived, sure she came in an overturned boat, but at least she had a boat. You had come on a literal piece of driftwood and nothing more. If someone was trying to use you as bait, they certainly weren’t prioritizing the success rate of you even arriving on Berk in the first place.

“I don’t know Hiccup, maybe someone who’s really committed? Maybe someone who has no other choice?” Astrid argued.

“If they have no other choice then we have to help them.” He responded. It was at this point Astrid was beginning to see that Hiccup had already made up his mind and arguing with him was going to be the same as arguing with a brick wall.

And yet she persisted.

“Hiccup, we can't put our noses into everyone else’s business, if they’re in trouble that’s their problem. We don’t always have to get involved.” She tried, but Hiccup's gaze was stern and unwavering. It was clear that he truly believed in his cause and he was going to stick beside it.

“We do when they wind up on our island Astrid.”

Astrid sighed, turning away from Hiccup for a moment as she gave the option a thought. Once she turned back towards him she raised her hands in defeat.

“Okay, alright. But I’m still going to heavily question them the exact moment they wake up.” She joked a bit, earning a small chuckle from Hiccup as he turned back to face you. Normally when Berk had a guest, he would offer his house to stay in.

However, maybe Astrid was right to at least be a little cautious this time so he decided against it. Maybe it was best for them to stay here, it would also give Gothi time to watch over them to make sure they’re healing properly. Once they heal, then they can discuss the living arrangements.

“Guess all we do now is wait.” Hiccup sighed before finally looking away from you and then back to Astrid. “It could be days until they wake up, let us know if anything happens.” Hiccup requested, now looking down at Gothi who gave him a smile and a nod. With that confirmation, Hiccup said his goodbyes and began to walk outside, but not before taking one last look at you.

He had convinced himself that he kept looking at you to see if he recognized you and for no other reason at all.

Three days had passed by and you still had not woken up. Hiccup and Astrid had been by several times, a few times together, but usually on their own time. You wounds were making very slow healing progress but you were still not receiving the proper amounts of food.

It was beginning to get worrying.

That was until randomly around noon on the third day, your eyes shot open and you quickly rose from your cot, ultimately regretting your decision as you became very dizzy almost immediately. You tried to steady yourself by proposing your arms up behind you, but eventually gravity seemed to have taken full control of your body and dragged you right back down to the cot.

Once the dizziness had dissipated a bit, you looked around at your very new surroundings. The last you remembered was… well you couldn’t quite remember really. You could hear the faint voice of a man in your memory, but you couldn’t place who it could have come from.

As you continued to look around the very homey little cottage-like house you were now in, you eventually noticed a very short woman walking towards you with a bowl in hand. As she neared you she had to continue to shoo away several little lizard type animals that continued to try and swarm her to steal the food.

It took you a moment before you realized those weren’t just lizards, they were dragons.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you watched the woman handle the beasts with such care and affection.

Great, you happened to wind up in some crazy woman’s cottage in the middle of who knows where.

You carefully sat back up, steadying yourself to prevent you from getting dizzy again as you looked towards the woman.

“Where am I?” You asked, but your voice was hoarse and scratchy from not having been used in days. The woman merely stared at you with a smile as she held the bowl of what looked to be like soup, towards you, urging you to eat.

You shook your head, trying to get her to answer before you asked again, “Where am I?”. In return she shook her head, now practically shoving the soup in your face. You finally took the soup from her, hoping that now she would answer you, but instead she turned right back around and began working on something else.

You simply stared in confusion before looking around you for some way out. That’s when you saw it, the door. Sure you couldn’t really run but the woman seemed largely occupied. Besides, you could argue you just needed fresh air.

Easy.

Or so you thought.

You carefully put your feet onto the ground, the floorboards creaking beneath you as you slowly put your weight down. You carefully began to push yourself upwards into a standing position, occasionally wobbling here and there but you were managing. You almost felt like some kind of sea creature learning how to use their new legs. You hugged the wall as you slowly but surely made your way towards the door, swinging it open and walking out.

You didn’t know what to expect, but you were hoping to see a village of some sort, maybe even a large woodland area, but you quickly realized you had been very mistaken. Oh sure, there was a village, but it was currently several hundred feet below the house you were currently standing in.

“Why in god's name would they build this so high up?” You wondered to yourself, and just as you had managed to stick your head even the slightest bit over the edge to peak below, you heard a loud roar from an animal you had never heard before.

You scrambled away from the edge, afraid that you may have upset some sort of creature that lived under the weird balcony that was a part of this house. It didn’t take you long to realize that the roar you had heard did not come from below, but instead it had come from above. Your head shot up to look for the source of the noise and your eyes widened as you made eye contact with a…

“Night Fury?” You shrieked, well as well as you could've with such a broken voice. With all your might you brought yourself back up and scrambled back into the house, slamming the door behind you. Suddenly this woman didn’t seem crazy because you could’ve sworn you saw someone riding that Night Fury. You’d have to be insane to even think of doing something like that.

Maybe sitting down and just having your soup was the best option right now, besides you were probably just hallucinating. After all, Night Furies went extinct years ago… right?

You sat down, finally beginning to take in some of the very warm meal that the strange woman had prepared for you, and you couldn’t lie it was pretty tasty. Well tasty in Viking terms of food. The warmth of the meal actually began to calm you down a slight bit before you heard a knock at the door that you had previously slammed, followed by a slightly concerned and confused voice.

“Uh, hey Gothi? Are we able to come in, didn’t mean to scare your guest like that.” The voice said from the other side of the door. The only thing you could really tell from it was that it was a young man. You then looked towards the woman, who you assumed to be Gothi, as she hobbled over to the door, now opening it.

Once the door had been fully opened, you locked eyes with the man now standing in the doorway and it immediately clicked. You weren’t hallucinating, that man was actually riding a dragon. And no one else was reacting to this?!

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