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axelsagewrites · 6 months

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Ragnar Lothbrok*Pet

Pairing: Ragnar x f!captured reader

Kinktober Day twenty-four: thigh riding/dry humping with Ragnar Lothbrok – after taking a Christian girl prisoner he decides to show you the pleasure a heathen can feel

Word count: 1491

Warnings: talks of religion, religious corruption, religious guilt, teasing, heavy flirting, mini crisis of faith ig, being ragnars pet/prisoner, making out, thigh riding, smut 18+

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“She is a Christian,” Floki whispered in Ragnars ear as the pair studied the girl presented to them, “We should get rid of her, not drag her around with us. She will only slow us down,”

While Floki’s eyes bore into Ragnars skull the kings’ eyes lingered elsewhere. They had taken your village some days ago when one of his men found you hiding in the forest. The sight of you on your knees, even if it were to pray to a false god to survive, was enough to convince Ragnar.

“I should like to keep her,” he said, watching how your lips wrapped around the words you mumbled, “Untie her hands,” he commanded one of his men as Floki sighed.

“What is it with you and your Christian pets? At least keep her hands bound,” he tried to reason but Ragnar just shook his head. He knew you wouldn’t run.

A couple of weeks had passed of successful raiding and gold was beginning to pile up around him. Ragnar sat at the makeshift feast they had decided to throw after taking another village however his eyes were once again on the Christian girl who sat across from him. At first you used to flush under his gaze, a sight he enjoyed and often tried to tease out by whispering pretty words in your ear.

Ragnar leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, “What are you thinking about?” he asked, your eyes snapping up to meet his.

“That I may sleep soon. The night is growing long,”

“That is an excellent idea. Perhaps I should join you,” he said, smirking at the way you began to stutter and flush, “Tell me something. Where you married before?”

You paused for a moment before answering, “No, why?”

Ragnar shook his head, “well I heard,” he said, leaning in closer and grinning as you did the same as his voice dropped to a whisper, “that it is only the married ones who get fucked,”

“I-well-I- yes it would be a sin otherwise,” you stuttered out, face growing hot as Ragnar poured himself another glass of wine. “I’m not even supposed to talk about…that,”

“Why not?”

“It is a sin,”

“Why?” he asked, tilting his head like a curious child.

The awkward smile worn on your lips made a real one grow on his face, “Because god said so,”

“Have you spoken to god,”

“Well, no,”

“Then how do you know?” a frustrated sigh left your lips that made Ragnars grin widen. He was getting to you and enjoying every moment of it. he leaned in closer once more, whispering for your sake more than anything,” Why would a god create something so beautiful then not let you appreciate its wonders?”

“It is a sin,” you clung to the excuse, realising you did not know why either.

The laugh that left his mouth however caught you off guard and your lips twitched, almost forming a smile at the smile on his face. That was until he spoke again, “Perhaps we should sin together one time,” he said, standing and grabbing his cup of wine. Before he could leave, he sauntered over to whisper one last thing in your ear, “And the idea of you falling apart on my cock is enough to make me believe in my god,”

A few more weeks had passed and soon you would be heading back with the raiders to their land. Despite still being wary of many of the men some, Ragnar specifically, had grown on you. “Where will I stay when you take me back with you?” you asked one night as you began to brush through your hair.

Ragnar glanced at you as he began to unlace his boots. While he had unbound your hands, he had insisted on keeping you in his tent, thankfully on your own bed, thought you wondered if this was for his entertainment or safety, “I will find somewhere for you,” he answered simply before reaching to pull his shirt over his head.

Despite seeing this sight many times, the way his muscles flexed, and his tattoos gleamed against his skin made a tingle shoot through your spine. “So, I won’t be a slave? Or is it a thrall you call them?”

Ragnar paused for a moment, his eyes scanning over you, “You need not worry little one. I will take care of you,”

A moment passed before you allowed yourself to smile, “Thank you Ragnar,” you said and a small smile crept onto his lips as he settled himself above his sheets, his eyes scanning over you.

“Come here,” he said, nervousness washing over you, “Trust me,”

You paused at first before standing from beneath your covers. Your underdress was the only thing to cover you now as you crossed the tent. Ragnar patted the spot beside him and cautiously you sat down, picking at your thumbs. His hand closed over yours, “You’ll make yourself bleed,” he said, and you just nodded as his eyes continued to study your face.

“Has anyone ever kissed you?” he whispered.

You swallowed before answering, “Once,” you said, tempted to pick at your skin but somehow resisting, “But I wasn’t very good at it,”

“Perhaps you should try again,” he whispered, his hot breath fanning over your skin as he moved to rest his forehead against yours.

“Perhaps you could teach me,” you whispered, a spark lighting in his eyes, “if I am to go back to your land perhaps it is time I Learned your ways,”

“All our ways?” he asked, his hand reaching over to run his fingers lightly up your thighs making you shiver, “Is that what you desire little one?”

“Would it be so wrong if I did?” you asked and the way your wide eyes gazed into his made Ragnars cock begin to harden.

His hand trailed slowly up your leg, torturously so until it arrived at your hip. You gasped when he grabbed it, pulling you over to straddle his thigh. “Ragnar- “you gasped, when he bent his leg up, propping you up on his strong thigh, “What are you doing?”

“Teaching,” his hands reached for your hair, pulling your lips down onto his. This was far different from the last time someone had kissed you. this was rough and needy and made whines leave your throat as one of his hands moved to your hips.

You couldn’t even question what he was doing before he began to move your hip, making you grind down onto his thigh. The way you whimpered made Ragnar wonder if Odin himself had blessed him. Ragnar guided your hips and soon your body took over, rubbing your clit against his strong thigh as his hand squeezed the flesh of your hips.

When he pulled his lips away yours chased after his making a chuckle leave them before he began to kiss down your jaw. “You don’t need to be quite little one,” he mumbled against your skin as a soft moan left your mouth, “No one will judge,”

His lips soon found the crook of your neck, kissing it in a way that made a knot in your stomach tighten. Since your hips now moved of their own accord his hands were free to travel up your frame, taking your tits in his hand and making you gasp as he squeezed them softly.

He felt his cock twitch at the feeling of the Hardened buds beneath your shift. His fingertips trailed slowly around your nipples at first, enjoying your needy whines before he finally began to roll them between his fingers.

“Oh god,” you moaned as he pinched them gently, but your words just made him want you more and groan against your skin.

It didn’t take long for a tight feeling to spread across your body, “What is happening to me?” you asked but it came out as more of a whine.

“Enjoy it little one,” Ragnar said, his lips moving to kiss your check, “Let yourself let go,” he said before your lips slammed onto his even catching yourself by surprise. Your moans allowed him to slip his tongue in, the kiss becoming messier and more desperate as you grinded against his thigh.

He felt your body jerk and Ragnar smirked into the kiss knowing what was about to happen. Your lips broke apart only for your head to fall in the crook of his shoulder, “Oh god,” you began to moan again before you felt your peak wash over you like a tidal wave.

sensing your body tensing and hips slowly Ragnar reached for your hips, moving them for you so he could watch you ride out your peak on his thigh. Curses left your lips before you finally slumped into his chest. Ragnar let out a small chuckle, letting his leg lay flat and holding you against his chest. Ragnar had defiantly made the right decision he thought.

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woahhhgwendolyn · 2 months

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Being Married To Bjorn Would Include...

-Him knowing he loved you the first time he had ever seen you. He was so in love with you he knew that he would do anything and everything for you and wanted to marry you too.

-He loves to give you gifts and give you lots of love and affection. He thinks that you deserve it all. He also loves to see your happy self once he gives you all these things.

-He loves to travel with you always. He is always worried about you traveling though. He hates the idea of you getting hurt because of some type of violence while out. That is why he keeps you very close to him while you both are traveling.

-He loves to keep you close at all times possible. Like I said before he would hate for you to get any type of hurt. He would take it very personally and think that it was his fault for not keeping you close.

-He is always so protective over you it sometimes makes you a bit crazy. But in his defense, he cannot help it.

-He sometimes will follow you around the village and make sure you do not know about it because he knows you will get mad if he follows you a lot.

-Being married to him would have some perks. Some including that you have lots of respect from not just him but from the rest of the village as well.

-He is a very jealous man, so if he sees any man with you he has to automatically include himself in the situation because he does not trust any other man in the village.

-He would want to get a tattoo signifying your marriage. He would also like it if you got one too. Most likely matching to his tattoo.

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levithestripper · 1 year

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Ruin Me

summary: after a drunken conversation with rollo one night during a feast, athelstan suggests to ragnar that they try something new in the bedroom.

warnings: fluff, smut, porn with some plot, corruption kink, scent kink, kink negotiation, bondage, praise kink, dirty talk, hair pulling, oral sex [m! reciving], multiple orgasms, established safeword, aftercare.

length: 4.1k || read on ao3

notes: last work of 2022!!! athelnar has been eating away at my braincells since october so this was the only logical solution. this is also day 15 of by kinktober series that's slowly but surely being finished :)

“Ragnar?” Athelstan asks hesitantly from across the room. The longhouse was empty save for them, leaving them in a peaceful silence together. The former monk was attempting to fold laundry but failing miserably, too distracted by the shirtless Vikingr across from him.

Ragnar didn’t turn to look at him, occupied with washing the remainder of their dirty clothes. “Hm?”

“You’re not busy tonight, right?” Nervousness was evident in his voice, catching Ragnar off guard and prompting him to turn to face him.

“What’s wrong?” he questions, moving to invade Athelstan’s personal space like always. His blue eyes search every corner of his face, looking for any sign of what could be troubling him. “What’s bothering you?”

Athelstan took Ragnar’s hands in his own, drawing comfort from the proximity. “Nothing is wrong, my love. I want to ask you something, is all.” His words match his body language, shoulders relaxed, and eyebrows unfurrowed.

An uncharacteristically sweet smile spreads across Ragnar’s lips. “Then ask.” He held the monk’s gaze, silently drinking in the man’s beauty. Even after all this time, Ragnar still has moments where he’s utterly mesmerized by his lover’s magnificence. How could the Gods deem him worthy enough of a man like him?

Ragnar’s hypnotized-like gaze told him everything he needed to know. His face was one of infatuation and love; it was a look he wore often. “Tonight, when we’re in bed,” he pauses, “I want to try something new with you.” A blush rushes over Athelstan’s face, pulling a giggle from the other man.

“Something new?” he inquires coyly.

“It’s something I heard about from Rollo.”

Hearing his brother’s name confuses him. Why would Athelstan want to do anything Rollo did? he wonders. “Rollo?”

“He was drunk one night during a feast in the longhouse,” he clarifies, relieving Ragnar of his worried confusion. “Remember last week when he invited me to sit with him?” Ragnar nods. “He told me about a woman he, uh—saw—recently. What he did to her, and how much she liked it.” The red in his cheeks deepened. “Couldn’t get it out of my head. Pictured you doing those things,” Athelstan cut himself off, embarrassment rendering him unable to speak.

Ragnar cups the side of Athelstan’s face, stroking his cheekbone. “Use your words, love,” he coos, smiling as the man’s blush worsened. A teasing look forms in the Vikingr’s gaze, “Tell me what you want.”

He leans into his lover’s hand, knees going weak. “Please kiss me,” he asks, voice almost at a whimper. Athelstan’s head felt like it was up in the clouds, far away from Kattegat, Ragnar being the only thing tethering him to the ground. “Need you to kiss me, Ragnar.” They waste no time, lips clashing together with a passion that could rival Thor. Ragnar’s hand moves to the back of Athelstan’s head, gripping the long brown hair at the back of his neck. His head tilts to one side, giving the dirty blond plenty of room to kiss up his sensitive neck.

Ragnar nips at the column of his throat, leaving pretty red marks across his skin. Bruises bloom across his neck, publicly displaying who he belongs to. Ath’s hands grip the back of Ragnar’s undershirt, pulling him impossibly closer to his chest. “Fuck, c’mon!” he whines, tugging at his clothes.

He pulls away from his neck, a smirk plastered across his face. “You want more?” Athelstan nodded. “I can’t give it to you if you don’t tell me what it is you want, my love.” Ragnar’s hand returned to Athelstan’s cheek. “Tell me what got you so embarrassed, hm?”

Athelstan whines, making Ragnar giggle. “I want—” he stutters, “I want you to tie me up.” Heat radiated from his face. “The way Rollo talked about how much the woman liked it made me feel the same way you make me feel.”

The Vikingr’s smirk widened, his other hand squeezing his hip. “Mmm, so you’re saying I make you feel good?”

“Oh my God, Ragnar, shut up,” Ath groans, burying his face in the crook of Ragnar’s neck. Ragnar giggles again at his reaction, the sound reverberating through Athelstan’s chest.

Ragnar ignores him, instead pinching his round ass, loving the cute squeak Ath makes. “You’re sure you want this, love?” His question causes a shift in the atmosphere around them from playful to mature. Sensing this, Athelstan leaves the safety of Ragnar’s shoulder to look at him.

He nods, “I’m sure.” His arms snake around his lover’s neck, his thin fingers running over the short, close-cropped hair on the top of Ragnar’s head. “You know I trust you, darling,” Ath said with a smile, leaning in for another kiss, which Ragnar eagerly accepted. This kiss was slower than the last, more romantic, more intimate. Athelstan tilts his head to the side again, further deepening the slow-paced kiss. Taking advantage of this, Ragnar slips his tongue between Ath’s lips and into his mouth, drawing a moan from them both. “Fuck, sweetheart,” he moans against Ragnar’s mouth, chest heaving from lack of air.

Both of the Vikingr’s hands cup Athelstan’s face now, holding the man where he wanted him. “You taste so fucking good, my love,” Ragnar growls, pushing him back towards their bed. The half-finished chores were left abandoned in the middle of the hall, destined to be finished by whoever stumbled upon them next. The backs of Athelstan’s knees hit the bedframe, stopping him in his tracks. Ragnar pushes him onto the thick layer of furs, wasting no time crawling over his lithe body, effectively caging him in. They lock eyes for a moment, and breathy laughter fills the room, engulfing their surroundings with the sound of their love.

“I love you,” Ragnar whispers in his ear.

He smiles, “I love you more, honey.”

Ragnar smirks, taking it as a challenge, “Doubtful.”

“Oh yeah?” Ath teases, running a hand down Ragnar’s bare chest.

He didn’t answer, responding with wet kisses to Athelstan’s neck, drawing a groan out of him. His calloused hands pin Ath’s smaller ones above their head, leaving them vulnerable to anything Ragnar had planned. Ragnar looped a strip of cloth around Athelstan’s wrists, tying it loose enough for him to break out of if needed. He strips them of the rest of their clothing, giggling at the shiver that runs up Ath’s supple frame.

Unlike the Vikingr, Athelstan was soft and delicate, something to be gentle when handling. With a striking lack of scars and tattoos, he looks deliciously innocent compared to the dozens of scars littered across Ragnar’s torso and shoulders. It didn’t matter how often he had Athelstan underneath him; the sight never failed to make him stiffen in his pants. The vile desire to defile a once innocent Christian monk, to make him cry out in pleasure for the so-called “godless” Pagan who raided his monastery, coursed through Ragnar’s veins years after they made their relationship official. His hands roam across Athelstan’s abdomen, thumbs rubbing circles against the juts of his hip bones that stick out on either side of his pelvis.

“You remember what you’re supposed to say if it’s too much?” he asks, thumbs now pressing against where his v-lines would be, stopping just above the tip of Ath’s cock.

Gnawing on his thick bottom lip, Athelstan nodded, failing to stay quiet as soft groans escaped him. “Mhmm, I remember.” He needily presses his hips into Ragnar’s palm, silently asking for more. He tugs on his restraints, testing their give. A satisfied shudder rushed up Ath’s spine. Restrained and entirely at the mercy of his lover’s will, the reality of his situation settled in, causing his cock to throb pathetically. “Red for stop, yellow for hold on, and green for keep going.”

Ragnar smiles, placing a chaste kiss on Ath’s lips, “Good boy. Can I tighten the cloth?”

He shudders again at the praise, even though he expected it. “Please, tighten them.” The cloth wrapped around his wrists grew tighter, now pressing his palms together. Ragnar secures his bound hands to the headboard, keeping him from wiggling away.

“There we go,” Ragnar hums, sitting on the backs of his calves. He runs his hands down the expanse of Athelstan’s body, unabashedly feeling him up. He could feel the thick cords of newly gained muscle underneath the skin of his biceps, his chest, and even his thighs. A smirk reappeared on his lips, partnered with a devious twinkle in his icy blue eyes. “You’re so pretty, Athelstan. Almost like a woman,” he teases, his smirk growing as Ath’s blush reappears. “Prettier than a woman, actually.”

Athelstan’s attempt at laughing at Ragnar’s quip failed, an almost strangled-sounding moan coming out instead. “Ragnar, please,” he begs.

“Oh, please, what, my love?” He hums, thumbs still drawing circles into the monk’s skin. “You know we use our words here. You’re very good at that, aren’t you?”

His words darken the already deep blush painted across his face. Tugging at his binds, Ath whines, “Darling, Ragnar, please, just touch me! You’ve done nothing but tease me this entire time.” Ath pouts up at him, hoping it would help his chances of convincing him.

Looking down, Ragnar traces the outline of Athelstan’s cock, giggling every time it throbs or twitches. “But I am touching you, baby. Is this not what you wanted?” His response was a quick ‘no,’ the man’s head shaking back and forth. “No? Then how do you want me to touch you?”

“I want you to fuck me, Ragnar; want you to fuck me like you hate me.”

Taken aback, his fingers grab onto Ath’s hips with an intensity guaranteed to leave bruises. Pulling his hips flush with his, he whispers, “Since when did my little monk gain such sinful desires, hm?” To further prove his point, Ragnar grinds against him, pulling the filthiest moan from his lover. Athelstan reciprocated the action, rolling his hips in a circle, slotting Ragnar’s cock between his cheeks perfectly.

“Ever since you placed those desires in me, my love. Whispering your sinful fantasies in my ear, rousing cravings for things I’ve only ever heard about in rumors.” Athelstan’s depravedness shot electricity through Ragnar’s body like never before. “You’ve ruined me, Ragnar; defiled me for anyone else.”

He groans deeply in Ath’s ear, caging him underneath his massive frame. “I’ve ruined you, little monk? Torn you away from your Christian God and down a path of heathenry?” Ragnar sucks a dark purple hickey into the crook of Ath’s neck, chuckling when he moans. Spurred on by his reactions, he littered more along Athelstan’s throat, decorating his unmarred skin with blatant claims. “What would your monastery friends say if they saw you now?”

Precum pooled in his belly button, paired with a loud moan tumbling from his mouth. “Fuck, Ragnar.” He tugs on the restraints with a whine. “Please, c’mon! I need you.”

“You need me, hm?” Ragnar teases, slowly pumping his fist around Ath’s shaft. Precum stuck to his palm, getting between his fingers. “Baby, you’re dripping for me. I haven’t even touched you yet.” He mouths at his shoulder, kissing him softly. Athelstan squirms underneath him, hips writhing from the overwhelming sensation of Ragnar’s touch. Sinewy muscles of Ath’s biceps flex with his movements, spurring Ragnar on further. He doesn’t allow him to respond, whispering in his ear, “You need me to ruin you, don’t you?” He nibbles the shell of Ath’s ear before licking it, relishing in the moan he gifted him.

His thin fingers grasp his bonds, extenuating the lean build he’s developed even further than before. “I do, I do,” he groans, head tilting back into his pillow. “I want you to ruin me, my love!” He shivers when Ragnar runs his thumb over the head of his cock, bringing a snarky grin to the Vikingr’s face. “Love it when you take me apart.” Sweat glistens on both their faces, the summer heat sparing no one.

Ragnar leans to kiss him, quickly slipping his tongue into his hot mouth. The kiss was a mess of tongue and teeth, spit sliding down Ath’s cheek. It doesn’t last very long, as Ragnar is eager to give him what they both desperately desire. He kissed down Athelstan’s body, sucking small hickeys into his skin as he went. “So good for me, baby. Want me to suck you off?”

The thought of having Ragnar’s mouth wrapped around his dick made him moan unabashedly, giving Ragnar his answer. His calloused hands grip Athelstan’s thick thighs, keeping him still and pliant. “Please, fuck, I want your mouth,” he begs, wriggling his hips toward his face.

“Shhh, shhh, baby,” he coos, stroking his thighs soothingly, “You’ll get what you want, don’t fret.” Ragnar presses his face against Athelstan’s pelvis, breathing his scent in deeply. Usually, Athelstan kept his pubes neatly trimmed for his personal comfort and Ragnar’s sake. But it had been a while since the last time he groomed, leaving it a thick, curly mess, something Ragnar was over the moon about. “Fuuck,” he groans, eyes rolling back slightly. “Smell fucking delicious, baby.”

Gazing down at his boyfriend, Athelstan watches as Ragnar grinds his hips against their bed. Ragnar’s spine was slick with sweat, skin shining in the light filtering through the windows. His muscles ripple underneath his skin, causing a pang of desire to shoot through Ath’s limbs. “My scent’s getting you off?” Ragnar nods in response, too busy mouthing at the base of his cock to form words. His tongue laves at the pale skin found there before slowly licking up the veiny shaft. Pink, spit-shiny lips place small kisses against the tip, relieving Ath of the precum building up there.

Ragnar brought him into his mouth, sinking down to the base in one go. A guttural moan left Athelstan’s lips, hands desperate for purchase against the restraints. The head of his cock bullies the back of Ragnar’s throat, making him choke each time. It was a sick sound of spit and half-retching, but it stirred something primal inside Athelstan, tightening the ball inside him with every thrust he gave. Ragnar’s hands held firm on his abdomen, doing his best to keep his lover still. Between his choking, Ragnar manages to let out a few moans, getting off on pleasuring his boyfriend.

Pleasure was building inside him faster than he expected, his orgasm threatening to overtake him. “Ragnar, Ragnar—fuck—I’m gonna cum!” he stutters, legs thrashing underneath Ragnar’s grip. “Fuck, your mouth!” Athelstan’s eyes roll back into his skull as his orgasm washes over him, his entire body shaking with the force of it. Hot cum filled Ragnar’s mouth, which he was quick to swallow in its entirety. Sucking the last bits of his orgasm from him, Ath whimpers at the aftershocks, the small movements beginning to overstimulate him. His chest heaves from exertion, sweat running down his frame and leaving a damp spot on the sheets.

Pulling back, Ragnar scarfed down much-needed air, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Leaning forwards, he untied his wrists, releasing his boyfriend from his pleasurable confines. Athelstan wraps his tired arms around Ragnar’s broad shoulders, yanking him down to lie on top of him. “I think you sucked my soul out through my dick.”

“You loved it,” he giggles, his smirk turning to a cheeky smile. Ragnar brushes the hair out of Ath’s face, drowning in his pretty green eyes. “You feeling alright, my love?”

Ath nods, returning Ragnar’s gaze with an equally as affectionate one. He intertwines their fingers together, reveling in the grounding presence the Vikingr provided him. “I’m alright. Better than alright,” he hums. “You?”

“Never better,” Ragnar responds, giggling again. He invades Ath’s personal space as much as possible, making the other man laugh too. “You know, I still haven’t gotten off yet, baby.”

He raises an eyebrow with a smirk, “Oh yeah?”

Ragnar kisses him again, passion evident throughout. “You wanna keep going? I haven’t fully ruined you yet, have I?” He kisses his cheek, then his hairline.

“Of course, I’d like to continue; you can’t expect me to be satisfied that quickly, can you?” Athelstan grins, returning the kiss eagerly.

Ragnar moves to sit between Ath’s legs, carefully placing them on his shoulders, effectively folding the man in half. Fishing a jar of oil-like liquid out from under the bed, he excessively coats three fingers, wiping the access off on Ath’s inner thigh. “Ready?”

Athelstan nods, relaxing in preparation for the welcomed intrusion. Slowly, Ragnar’s forefinger works its way inside him, greeted with a quiet moan. Before long, one finger became two, two became three, and the soft moan became loud. The slick sounds of Ragnar’s fingers thrusting in and out of Athelstan’s sloppy entrance echoed throughout their bedroom. Athelstan covers his face with his forearms, hiding his pleasured expression from his lover.

“Don’t hide from me, baby.” Ragnar pulls his arms away from his face, returning them to the mattress. “Keep your hands like that, okay?”

He nods, whimpers tumbling from him. “Fuuck, fuck, Ragnar, baby—!” Ath squirms, trying and failing to get away from the overwhelming pleasure. “Please, fuck me,” he begs, “I’m loose enough; I’m ready, Ragnar, please!”

He kisses him once more before slipping his fingers out of his lover. Slicking his cock with another palmful of lube, he presses the tip against his entrance. “You’re sure you’re ready, my love?”

“Fuck, I’m more than ready,” Athelstan begs, tightly holding Ragnar’s free hand.

Ragnar gives his hand a squeeze as he slowly pushes his way inside. “Fuck,” he drawls, face scrunched up in ecstasy. “You’re still so tight.” Athelstan gasps and babbles senselessly, thrusting back on Ragnar’s cock. Giving him time to adjust, he gradually slides in until his hips are flush against Ath’s ass.

Athelstan’s expression mirrored Ragnar’s, eyes closed and eyebrows furrowed together. Tiny, high-pitched whimpers escaped him, hands running up Ragnar’s biceps for purchase. “You’re s’fucking big, Ragnar, darling,” he groans, nails digging into his skin.

He leans down further, folding Athelstan in half once more. “Must feel so full, honey,” he teases, biting his earlobe. Ragnar cards his fingers through his sweaty hair, pushing it off his forehead. His thrusts are quick and shallow, pulling out barely halfway before slamming inside again. “Nothing compares to the real thing, huh? This is just what you needed, isn’t it, sweetheart?” The sounds of Ragnar’s thighs smacking against Athelstan’s echos throughout their room, only darkening the blush that had spread to cover the monk’s chest.

“Mm—mhmm!” Ath nods, eyes still closed, too overwhelmed to open them.

Noticing this, Ragnar smirks, a devious idea forming. Adjusting his thrusts to hit Athelstan’s sweet spot, the bedframe rattling from the sheer power of it. With each slam to that bundle of nerves, Ath’s eyes shot open, and a loud moan tumbled from his lips. “Oh fuck, Ragnar! Oh my God, holy shit, right there, please!” Blunt nails leave long, red welts down the Vikingr’s muscled back, desperately grabbing for anything to ground him to reality. The tendons in the back of Ath’s thighs strained from the stretch, though it only added to his arousal.

“Aww, right there?” he mocks, changing the direction of his thrusts back to how they were before, much to Athelstan’s displeasure. “Is this where you want it, baby?”

He leaves fresh lines down his back, turning Ragnar’s back into a scratching post. “No, no, no!” Ath’s voice was utterly sinful, full of lust and desperation. “Where you were before!”

“Here?” he asks, hitting everywhere but the spot he wanted. He sucks another bruise into his neck, which is now more purple than its usual porcelain complexion.

Ath shook his head no, unable to form words as he was on the brink of sobbing. Delicate tears pool in his eyes, extenuating the soft, innocent aura that typically encapsulated him. Unable to deprive him any longer, Ragnar caves, giving Ath what he wants, hitting his sweet spot once more. “This is what you wanted, wasn’t it, sweetheart?”

Athelstan felt like his entire body was melting into goo, his limbs filling with static and joints melting to nothing. “Yes, yes, s’good, s’fuckin’ good, baby—” he stutters, words slurring together as pleasure overtook him. His eyes roll back from a rather intense thrust, shudders wracking his body. “You’re so—ohmygod—you’re so deep!”

Ragnar kept the pace, keeping Athelstan teetering between orgasm and never-ending pleasure. “Aww, you hearing yourself? You’re already ruined for me, and I didn’t even have to do much.” Lube and sweat dribble down Athelstan’s taint, pooling against the sheets. “It wasn’t even difficult to ruin you like you asked,” Ragnar mocks, “Turns out, you were already a slut for me.” His balls slap against Ath’s ass, mixing well with the cacophony of noise already surrounding them.

“Yes, yes, ‘m yours, all yours,” he babbles, hands moving from Ragnar’s back to and up to his hair, tugging on the damp, blond locks. Athelstan stumbles over his words, unable to get a sentence out smoothly. “All fuckin’ yours, m’love.” Ragnar thrusts deeper than before, hitting his lover’s sweet spot with a punishing amount of force. A shriek escaped Ath as intense waves of unadulterated ecstasy washed over him, hips rolling into Ragnar’s thrusts. The hands in Ragnar’s hair grip tight, drawing pretty noises from him too. “G’nna cum—gonna cum! M’gonna cum, Ragnar, m’gonna cum! Please, fuck, please let me cum!” Ath’s voice cracks halfway through his plea.

His smirk widens across his face, pleased at the show Ath is putting on for him. “You want to cum, is that it?” He litters kisses along Ath’s hairline. “I don’t know,” he hesitates, quickening the speed of his thrusts. “Do you think you deserve it, my love? Have you earned it?” Precum oozes from the head of his cock, coating Ath’s walls with each thrust he gives.

Athelstan gazes at him with big, tearful eyes; his pupils are blown black, with barely a ring of green left to circle them. “Please, Ragnar!” he pleads, tears threatening to spill down his pinkened cheeks. “Feel like m’gonna explode; I can’t take it any longer!” His voice was the essence of depravity, only aiding in his efforts.

Combined with his own impending orgasm and Athelstan’s pleading, Ragnar granted him permission to cum, which he did gladly. Tightening around Ragnar, Athelstan came with a shout, spunk landing sporadically across both of their chests and stomachs. His cock twitches and throbs with each wave of his orgasm, echoing the spasms running through the rest of Ath’s body.

It wasn’t long after that Ragnar came too, spurred on by his lover’s climax. Ragnar finishes inside him, shooting ropes of cum as deep as he can get them. He’s sure there’ll be handprint-shaped bruises left on Athelstan’s hips later from the death grip he has on them. Feeling Ragnar cum inside pushes Ath over the edge again, sending him into another body-numbing orgasm. His mouth hung open in a silent scream, eyes completely rolled back into his skull. Ath’s orgasm seemed to last forever, so by the time he could open his eyes again, Ragnar was already beginning to clean them up.

Ragnar recovers quickly after such an intense orgasm, swiftly attending to his lover, who was threatening to black out on him. Fetching the cup of water from the nightstand, he takes a swig before coaxing Athelstan to do the same, holding his head up so he won’t choke. “You were so good for me, my love,” he coos. Slowly pulling out of him with a groan, Ragnar sits Ath up against the headboard, wiping him clean of sweat and drying cum. “So perfect like always.” Exiling the dirtied sheets to the floor, Ragnar crawls under the covers, snuggling up next to him. “How do you feel, sweetheart?”

Athelstan curls up under Ragnar’s arm, sleep quickly taking hold. He hums, “Good, fantastic. Perfect. You?”

“Same here. Love it when you’re good for me,” Ragnar says, purely to hear the giggle Ath responded with. The sound floods his chest with an affection rivaled by no other in Midguard. He brings up an earlier conversation with a smirk. “I think I proved that I love you more, by the way.”

Too tired to argue, Ath agrees with a yawn. “Fine, fine, you win. I get to win next time, though.” Ath’s yawning incites Ragnar to do the same.

“Yeah, yeah, sure you will,” he chuckles, kissing the top of his head. Athelstan’s exhaustion soon infected Ragnar, the larger man yawning again. They scramble down the bed to lay comfortably, pulling the blankets and soft furs over them. Athelstan is tucked neatly underneath Ragnar’s arm, head using the Vikingr’s chest as a pillow. They fall asleep with the setting sun, the humid summer heat morphing into a warm evening, the perfect temperature for cuddling.

The light from the full moon replaced the sunlight, accompanied by every star in the galaxy. Without a cloud in the sky, the entirety of Kattegat was asleep alongside them, granting the couple a rest worthy of the Gods.

tagging: @slayhousehightower, @aemondtarqaryen, @procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics, @demon-of-the-ancient-world

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geeky-introvert · 2 years

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Master List

Vikings

More to come....

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solioquyforme · 1 month

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“What are you doing?” He asked her flatly.

“Wherever you go, I go too. Whatever you do, I do too. Don’t you remember?” She reared her horse to look at him.

Lhyrie could see the image of her last set of negotiations in Ubbe’s eyes and he shook his head hard. “No, you’re not coming.”

She folded her hands in front of her and stared hard at him. “I go where –,”

Ubbe groaned heavily, and they waited in silence for the camp to quiet in the unrelenting rain.

——————-

Harald’s army approaches and Winchester prepares. Lhyrie drags along to Ubbe’s negotiations with Harald and he won’t let her out of his sight. Before the encroaching battle, ranks are determined and Lhyrie disagrees with her position. Smut! I am by no means a smut writer but alas wrote some, so enjoy.

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yuujispinkhair · 9 months

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Tribe leader/Viking Sukuna headcanons

After seeing this fanart, a sweet anon sent me this prompt: "Imagine that you are a simple girl in another tribe who attracted the leader Sukuna who at that moment came to negotiate with the leader of your tribe, he became interested in you and decided to make you his wife and cooperate with your people. So you left with him and began to live with him and give birth to his heirs."

Thank you so much for sending me this! When I saw the art, I was thinking of something along those lines, too! The picture reminded me of the tv show Vikings, so the following headcanons take place in that time.

Pairing: Viking!Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: Smut + fluff Word Count: 2.5k Warnings: 18+, smut, arranged/forced marriage, virginity loss, blood, breeding, pregnancy, slight lactation kink, having children, miscarriage (Sukuna comforts reader afterwards. He doesn't just want her because of the heirs she can give him), general mentions of violence and human sacrifices. All characters are of age. This story is 18+. Minors don't interact.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who is feared for his ruthlessness in battle and his strength that seems almost god-like. All the other tribes try to stay on his good side and forge alliances with him instead of giving him a reason to burn down their towns.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who looks so intimidating when he comes to visit your settlement. Tall and broad-shouldered with all those buff muscles on display and the bones of his enemies decorating his clothes.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who you can't take your eyes off when you and the rest of your tribe gather in your leader's throne room and watch the negotiations. He sends shivers down your spine, but not just in a fear-inducing way, if you are honest. He is so enticing. Powerful and intelligent, and so attractive.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who is such a beautiful man. His face is too pretty for a warrior. Not even his scars and tribal tattoos can hide his beauty. A smug smirk lifts the corners of his lips, and his voice is calm and confident. He moves gracefully like a big cat, beautiful but deadly. He is the most stunning man you have ever seen, and you hang on every word that falls from his lips as if he carries ancient magic in his voice.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, whose icy blue eyes scan the crowd slowly, glittering like two precious jewels in the firelight illuminating the crowded room. Your breath catches in your throat when that intense gaze lands on you. You feel like a small animal trapped in the gaze of its hunter. Should you lower your head to show him your respect? Or will he take affront if you dare to look at anything else but him?

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who takes the decision away from you when he smirks at you and laughs softly before he turns his attention back to your leader.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who announces his conditions for a peace treaty in a confident, demanding tone. The voice of a man who is used to getting what he wants. A man who knows he is too powerful to get turned down.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who suddenly points a long tattoed finger at you and speaks the words that will flip your whole world upside down, "And I want her."

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who makes your heart drop with his demand, but all you can do is stare at him in a mix of fear and excitement. A murmur runs through the crowd, and already, several hands are pressing against your back, shoving you towards Sukuna, making you stumble and screech as you are about to fall at his feet.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who catches you before you hit the ground, his muscular arms holding you easily, an amused smirk lighting up his handsome face, light blue eyes glittering in amusement as he drawls teasingly, "Aww, someone's eager to become my little wife, huh?"

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who makes you sit on his lap that evening when a big feast is held in his honor and to seal the peace treaty with your tribe. You barely dare breathe, full of fear as you sit on his strong, muscled thighs, gasping when one of his large hands wanders under your skirt to squeeze your thigh possessively.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who has two of his men stand guard in front of your door so no one will attack his future wife or maybe to prevent you from sneaking away. But you aren't even sure you want to run from him. Who are you here in your current tribe anyway? Just another orphan who grew up to help on one of the farms. Isn't this new role much more important? To be the bride of Ryomen Sukuna? To be a means that allows your tribe to prosper and ensures peace and trade with Sukuna?

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, whose large hand has a firm, unrelenting grip on your arm as he leads you to his horse the next morning. But he lets you say goodbye to all your loved ones, taking their blessings and well wishes with you before your future husband helps you onto his horse.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who is such a rough man, but whose hands are surprisingly gentle when he lifts you onto the back of his giant horse. He sits behind you, his firm muscles pressing against your back, rippling with every move he makes. His muscular buff arms cage you in, keeping you captive or keeping you safe. You can't tell which one of the two it is.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who makes a conflict rage in your chest. On the one hand, you are scared of this dangerous big man who has the power to just demand to have you as if you are some cattle. On the other hand, you can't deny that small hidden part of you that feels excited that such a powerful and attractive man desires you enough to want to make you his wife.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who makes your pulse flutter nervously when you feel his strong arms around you and hear him order his men around with his low, velvety voice, telling them to find a good resting place for the night.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who kisses you roughly on that first night. His large hands that cup your face are calloused, but his lips are warm, and his tongue is soft and so skilled when he pries your mouth open and licks into it. It's nothing like the shy, clumsy kisses you shared with the boys in your settlement. Sukuna is a feared warrior, a powerful tribe leader, someone who people believe is actually the son of a god. And you can feel all that in his kiss. Deep and intense, making your head spin and your body brim with a desire you have never felt before.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who rides with you again the next day and trails teasing kisses down your neck to pass the time during the long ride. You are sure he is fully aware of what he is doing to you. How he makes your heart race and makes a mix of fear and arousal throb in your veins. Especially when he grabs your chin to tilt your face up and capture your lips in a heated, wet kiss, licking unashamedly into your mouth in front of his men, showing everyone that you are his.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who whispers in your ear, "Are you scared of me, my little wife?" and then breaks out in loud, barking laughter when you exhale shakily and tell him, "Only a fool wouldn't be scared of you... but maybe I am also flattered that you picked me, my lord."

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who still chuckles while his tongue licks a lazy stripe up the side of your neck, and he huskily tells you, "I am not a lord. I am a god. And I saw a goddess right there in that shabby throne room. I had to take you with me. It was a sign from the gods. You will give me such strong and beautiful children. Together, we can conquer the whole world."

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who forces himself to keep his hands off you before your wedding night as a show of respect to the gods, but who lets you feel his desire for you when he hugs you from behind and presses his hardness against you once you have moved into his house.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who has you dressed in the finest garments for your wedding day. A beautiful red dress lined with gorgeous white ermine fur that was specifically made for you. Your neck, wrists, and ears are decorated with glittering gold and precious gemstones.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who makes you squeal when he swoops you up into his muscular arms and carries you into the ceremony hall, accompanied by the loud cheers of his people. Your hand is shaking when you exchange wedding rings with him, but you stay brave, speaking your vows and taking Sukuna's heavy sword when he offers it to you as his promise to protect you.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who sacrifices several of his enemies to the gods to ask for their blessings for your marriage and your fertility. He looks scary with the pattern painted onto his face with fresh blood. But at the same time, it makes him look feral in a way that makes an unknown heat throb between your legs.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who shares his food and mead with you on the decadent feast held after the wedding ceremony, where you sit on the throne next to his. One of his strong arms stays wrapped around your waist the whole evening, and the deep glances he sends your way make your skin tingle with anticipation.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who takes your virginity that night, making you cry out in pain when his thick cock splits you open for the first time. But his lips silence your cry, and soon you make other noises. Loud moans of pleasure fall from your lips as your new husband moves inside you with deep and sure thrusts that hit a spot inside you that makes you scratch the broad muscles of his back and arch up against Sukuna's huge body. Your cunt throbs around his cock as you find the sweetest and most intense release you ever had.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who afterward pushes two of his long fingers into your used cunt to push his seed back into you, leaning down to kiss you savagely and murmuring in your ear that he wants to see your belly hard and swollen with his heirs.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who paints his clan symbols on your face with a mix of your virginal blood and his cum, telling you that you are his forever and that you are blessed by the gods now too after taking his seed into you.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who is so proud when you show the first signs of pregnancy.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who becomes extremely protective and possessive now that you carry his heir. Who worships your body every night, cupping and kissing your swollen breasts, licking at the drops of milk that already spill from them, telling you it tastes like the nectar of the gods.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, whose large rough hands caress your swollen belly gently, who kisses it, and talks to your unborn child, telling his son, as he predicts, that he will be born under the blessing of the gods. That he will become a great leader and a god himself one day.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who is triumphant when your first child is a boy with pink hair and a strong build and loud voice. A future leader just like his father. The first heir of many more to follow.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who is feared by everyone but treats his wife and newborn child with a gentleness that surprises you. He asks you to let him hold your baby and carry him in his strong arms. And the way Sukuna looks at your child tells you that he doesn't just see little Yuuji as an heir but as someone who has Sukuna's heart.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, whose hungry and proud gaze follows you for days until he has you under him again, fucking you with hard, deep thrusts, moaning loudly, and pumping you full of his seed over and over again. "You gave me such a strong heir, my love. I know you'll give me so many more."

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who rushes to your side when you have a miscarriage during your second pregnancy. Who hugs you to his broad chest, wipes the sweat and blood off you, and cradles you in his arms.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who kisses your tears away and reassures you when you are scared he will kick you out if you won't give him more heirs.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who shakes his head and tells you, "I mourn our unborn child, but I thank the gods for not taking my beloved wife away from me too. You are more to me than just a vessel that gives birth to my heirs. You are my wife, my companion, the one who the gods sent to me as my soulmate. I love you. Even if we have no more children, I will never take a new wife."

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who you see in a new light after the reassurance and love he gave you on that day. And suddenly, you find yourself falling in love with your husband, too. You treat him more tenderly. You caress his soft hair when the two of you cuddle in your bed to keep each other warm. You kiss the tattoos on his face and smile at him, your heart fluttering when Sukuna smiles back at you and pulls you into a slow, tender kiss. You will never forget the happiness in his eyes when you tell him you love him too.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who fucks you thoroughly that night until the two of you are sweating and rolling around on top of the warm furs, kissing and caressing each other needily while he fills you with his hot seed until you are overflowing from it.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who is delighted when you give birth to your second child, and that child looks like the perfect mix of the two of you. He grins at you and tells you that this is clearly a child of love, conceived on the night you confessed your love to him.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who is actually a caring husband who truly treasures you. Who likes to spend his nights with you wrapped under the warm furs, making slow love while he kisses you deeply, rolling his hips with those slow, languid moves that make you sob his name and come undone so sweetly on his cock.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who likes to hold you in his strong arms afterward, with your head resting on his broad chest and your small fingers tracing the tattoos on his chest and abs. He loves to talk to you for hours every night, telling you all about his day, about his current worries and plans, about political things and battle tactics, trusting you with all his secrets.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, whose love fills you with warmth even on the coldest winter days. Your heart is held securely in his strong hands. And you know that no one will dare lay a hand on you or your children in fear of Sukuna's wrath. His strength and power make you feel safe here in your new home.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who teaches you how to enjoy sex to the fullest. Who teaches you how to ride his cock and his face. Who teaches you how to take from him too. Because he is your husband, and that means he belongs to you just as much as you belong to him.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who trusts you with ruling in his place during his absence. Who declares that anyone who disrespects you will get sacrificed to the gods.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who keeps you on his thick, strong cock all night before he has to leave for one of his various exploration trips or battles, savoring you to the fullest. Making sure to fuck you so good that you will still feel him for days after he set sail.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who pulls you into his arms one last time before he boards the ship, kissing you deep and long. And there is this burning love in his blue gaze when he tells you, "I will do anything in my power to come back to you, my love. I have the gods on my side. But if, for whatever reason, they should decide it is my time to enter Valhalla, then I want you to know that I will wait there until you join the afterlife, too, and I will come find you, no matter where you are."

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who luckily doesn't go to Valhalla and always comes back to you with more scars on his gorgeous body but with the same love in his eyes.

AAAHHH I AM IN LOVE WITH HIM!!! This became much longer than I intended, but I really miss the show Vikings, and I love Viking!Sukuna to an insane amount, so it is what it is ;) This was, once again, very self-indulgent, but hopefully, some of my fellow Sukuna lovers will enjoy it too! Thank you so much to the nice anon who sent me that prompt!

Please let me know what you think. Comments and reblogs would be very sweet.

#sukuna x reader #sukuna smut #sukuna fluff #jjk x reader #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #jjk smut #jjk fluff #sukuna x you #tw pregnancy #tw miscarriage

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viking-raider · 1 year

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Tea and Coffee

Summary: Henry and I have been--something--for years. Friends? Room Mates? Friends with undefined, unfulfilling, benefits. I don't know! All I do know, is this morning, I've had more than I can take of it.

Pairing: Henry Cavill/Reader (1st person)

Word Count: 2.2k

Warning: M - Language, Frustration, Lurking, Something to Lovers, Hurt, Longing, Fluff - SMUT - Unprotected sex (wrap it, before you tap it!)

Inspiration: Nothing special, just a polish up of an old story I wrote.

Author’s Note: I hope you enjoy this! Line divider by @FIREFLY-GRAPHICS!

If you would like to get notifications for my writing! Just follow my Tag List blog, @VIKING-RAIDER-TAGLISTand turn on the notifications for it! It’s that easy!

I walked into my bedroom and stopped dead in the doorway, jaw dropping to the floor, laying in my bed on his back, and quite naked, despite the heavy down blanket just covering his lower half, was Henry Cavill.

It wasn't Henry being in my bed that affected me. We'd been sharing a bed for sometime now. Borderline dating, if you want to call it that. But hadn't officiated it, though we made out, cuddled and touched each other a hell of a lot.

It was him being naked in my bed.

Eyes trailing from his relaxed face and over his hairy, muscular chest to where the edge of the blanket just stopped, at the last possible inch of his lower hips. I'd been turned on by Henry shirtless before—who the hell wouldn't be? But now, I felt something new inside myself yearning for more, to tug that blanket free and see him utterly naked, to feel him naked against me, to feel him inside of me.

However, before my mind or actions could go any farther into possibly acting out on it, Henry started to stir and I lost my nerve. I didn't want him to catch me staring at him, so I turned on my heels and made my way downstairs, before he saw me.

Standing at the kitchen counter, trying to get myself back together, with a cup of tea to calm my nerves with the caffeine, when Henry appeared behind me. He was in a loose pair of gray sweatpants, and was still shirtless. He smiled at me softly, wrapping his arms around my waist, peeking over my shoulder to see what I was doing. I relaxed, feeling Henry's hands graze my hips and wrap his strong arms around me. Leaning back against him, I turned my head, as he rested his on my shoulder, and kissed his cheek lightly, half wondering if the hard on he was sporting was his having to pee or something more.

“Tea or coffee?” He asked, turning his face to nuzzle my neck, playfully.

“Tea.” I answered. “You want coffee?”

“Mmm.” He sighed, closing his eyes and tightening his arms around me, making his hard on even more noticeable and me to moan, my eyes closing. But as quickly as Henry had hugged me closer to him, he let go again. “Coffee.” He whispered, turning to the Keurig and getting it going, before heading out to the living room to pop the tv on.

I stood where I was, gobsmacked. What had I done? Or had I misinterpreted what he had done.

Shaking my head, disappointed, I pulled the whistling kettle off the stove and poured my cuppa. Standing there, while my tea brewed, unable to face him, and cringing when I heard the Keurig beep, signaling that Henry's coffee was ready. I didn't look at him as he came back into the kitchen, grabbing a cup from the cabinet above my head and poured his brew.

“You got anything scheduled for today?” He asked, turning to lean back against the counter and sipped the black liquid.

I shook my head, pulling the tea bag from my cup and tossed it in the trash, before stirring in a bit of honey and creamer.

Henry frowned, watching me finish my tea. “So, you got nothing to do today?” He asked and got another head shake. “What's wrong?” He frowned more, knowing something was off.

“Nothing.” I answered, in short, taking a sip of tea.

“Did I do something?”

What you didn't do. I almost said, out loud. “No, you haven't done anything.” I told him, and left the kitchen.

He called after me as I went upstairs, but I ignored him.

Frowning and dropping his head forward with a sigh, Henry turned and went back to the couch, figuring I'd come back down. But, when I didn't come back almost an hour later, Henry set his empty cup on the coffee table and headed upstairs, finding me sitting cross legged in the bed and on my laptop.

“What are you doing?” He asked, stopping next to the bed, staring down at me with a raised eyebrow.

“Checking my mail.” I answered, never looking away from the screen or stopping my fingers as I typed out a reply to one of my most urgent emails.

“Why aren't you checking them downstairs?”

“What does it matter where I check them?” I replied, frowning at the screen.

“Well, you always check them downstairs, on the couch, while watching tv with me.” Henry answered, sounding hurt, and looking so.

“Yeah, cause I'm only good for watching tv, right.” I snapped, slamming my laptop shut and getting up to head for the bathroom.

“What!” Henry snapped back, surprised, rounding the bed to grab me by the arm and pull me to a stop.

“Fuck off!” I snapped back, trying to yank away from him.

“What's wrong?” Henry asked, holding me and wrapping an arm around my waist, so I couldn't pull away from him again. “Tell me.” He said, soft and low.

“I told you,” I barked. “To fuck off.”

Henry grinned at me. “I love it when you're worked up.” He chuckled, amused.

“You won't when I kick you in the nuts.” I growled, again. “Now, let go!”

“Nope.” He laughed, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief.

“You've pissed me off already, Cavill. You wanna finish it!?” I growled, agitated by his smugness.

“So, I did piss you off.” He grinned wider. “What did I do?”

I growled and shoved him away, Henry letting me go this time. “Go fuck yourself.” I huffed, storming into the bathroom and slammed the door.

Henry roared with laughter and opened the bathroom door, leaning against the framing, seeing I had started to undress. I turned to look at him with an expression of pure murder. But, before I could cuss him out again and kick him out of the bathroom, Henry pushed off the door frame towards me. Grabbing me by the wrist, he pulled me against him and kissed me deeply. He knew that he'd upset me in the kitchen, when he pulled away, but he was afraid that I wouldn't want him that way, that I was fine with us being something more along the lines of platonic, friends with benefits. But seeing how upset I seemed to be now, assured him that I did want more from him and our relationship.

His hands ran down my back, slipping into the waistband of my pajama bottoms and panties to grab and squeeze my ass. He'd dreamed about touching my bare skin, my body; many times a day, often getting himself off to that image and me in his mind. The prospect of finally being able to see me properly naked and touch me, to be inside of me, made Henry incredibly hard and horny.

He broke the kiss and looked down into my eyes, searching, asking, pleading. I looked back up at him, seeing it and feeling relieved as I nodded my head.

The moment I nodded, the flood gates broke open.

Henry moved, crashing our lips back together in a hungry kiss of long pent up desire. Henry's hands fell to my hips, fingers curling around the waistband of my pajama bottoms and underwear, yanking them down and letting them pool at my feet. Gripping my hips, Henry turned us and picked me up, sat me on the vanity, his knees pushing open mine to allow him to stand between them. His mouth on my neck, sucking and biting the delicate skin there, moans escaped me shamelessly.

I ghosted up the hills and valleys of Henry's thick arms with my palms, raising goosebumps across his skin, to rest my hands on his strong shoulders and smoothed them back down the plain his back, outlining my way over his hips for a moment, before taking one of his hands in mine. I gently spread his fingers and traced the lines on his broad palm, feeling my own skin sizzle with the accomplished contact.

“I want you, Henry.” I moaned, turning my face into the hair just behind his ear, fingers slipping between the gaps of his.

Henry sighed into my neck. “Again.” He whispered, lips lingering against my skin.

“I want you.” I grinned, a thrill running through my veins.

His arms closed around my waist, pressing me flat against him, and I was sure this time. He was hard for me. Henry looked me straight in the eyes, with want and anticipation. Smirking devilishly, he pushed his pants out of the way, chuckling at the wide eyed flare I gave him as I finally got to see the one part of Henry I never had before.

“Lord Jesus.” I gasped, gulping and licking my lips.

“I get that a lot.” Henry quipped, wrapping my legs around his waist.

A shiver ran down my body feeling him rub against me, making me whimper.

Over wasting time, Henry slipped slowly into me, wanting to savor the beautiful, slick warmth he was delving into. My eyes rolled back and shut, the muscles of my stomach quivering, legs tightening around Henry's hips. The first thrust was like lightning striking through our bodies and sizzling in our minds.

I tightened around him and rocked my hips, driving Henry deeper and deeper. “More.” I panted, gripping his shoulders to steady us both. “Henry.” I begged, when he didn't.

Smiling and breathless, Henry pulled me to the edge, spreading his feet a little farther apart, hands glued to my hips and nails digging into my skin, making me groan, he thrust into me harder and fast.

Things tipped over on the counter, spilling onto the floor and into the sink. The room filled with the sounds of exertion and the contact of skin. I gasped, breath catching in my throat, my muscles trembling and despite the hot flush of my body, goosebumps covered my skin, as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through my spine to every nerve ending.

I surged around Henry, making him groan deep in his throat.

The indescribable warmth radiating from between my thighs intensified, building more and more, making my mind desperately focused on the single goal of tipping over the final edge; a flush of that warmth flooding out, gushing around Henry's still thrusting manhood. When the wave passed, it left me slack and limp, with untold satisfaction and completion, fighting for full breaths and what little strength I had to hold on to him. A sudden surge filled me again, bringing me somewhat out of my haze. It was Henry finally hitting his own peak, pumping me with that gratifying feeling all over again.

Henry's body went lax, his head dropping heavily onto my shoulder, making us both sway against the vanity. I rested my head on his shoulder, arms weak and shaky around his torso, as we leaned against each other for support and fighting to calm our screaming lungs.

“What?” He whispered, too exhausted to manage anything else, as he heard me mumble something, but only felt my lips brush against the skin of his shoulder.

“I'm sorry for getting angry at you.” I said, louder this time, turning my head into his ear. “I should have just told you—what....what I wanted.”

Henry smiled softly, picking his head up, hands raising to hold my face and made me look at him. “I should have told you too.” He admitted. “I should have told you a long time ago. Instead of allowing us to tiptoe on the edge of this...friends with benefits and-and...I don't know—line.”

He licked his lips and nodded his head. “I'm sorry too.”

Resting my forehead against his forehead. “Well, it's all out in the open now.” I told him, caressing my fingers through his hair. “Whatever we are now?”

“I want us to be us.” He answered, simply. “Together, for real.”

I stared into his eyes, a multitude of emotions and thoughts flowing through me. “I'd love that...more than anything.”

“You still wanna take that shower?” He asked, taking a step back, and looking at the stuff that fell onto the floor.

“Yeah, I do.” I laughed. “You wanna join me?”

Henry nodded his head, moving to the shower and turning it on, he knew I loved hotter showers, so he left the cold tap alone and turned back to me. Chuckling, I hopped off the vanity, sauntered by Henry, wobbly legs and all, playfully slapping him on the butt, and stepped into the shower.

Following my lead, Henry stepped in behind me, biting his lip as the hot water cascaded down my body. He pressed his hand to my back, the water washing over his fingers and around his wrist. I was finally all his, no more hoping and wanting. He could really touch me now, like he could never before. It felt freeing to both of us. No more in-between. Stepping closer to me, he slid his hands over my hips and hugged me against him; nothing would get between us again.

#Henry Cavill #Tea and Coffee *fic*#Tea and Coffee #Viking-Raider Fics #Henry Cavill x You #Henry Cavill x Reader #Henry Cavill/Reader #Henry Cavill/You #Fluff #Friends to Lovers #Roomates to Lovers #Roomates #Friends #Comlicated #Henry Cavill fanfic #Henry Cavill Fandom #henry cavill rpf #Henry Cavill fanfiction #Re-work

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allmoshnobrain · 4 months

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𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐥 𝐦𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

dave mustaine x spoiled!reader | word count: 997

✦ summary: You always loved your boyfriend's beautiful hair, so he finally lets you braid it for the first time.

✦ on this fic: dave mustaine x reader, +18, romance, fluff, smut mentioned/implied, age gap (r is in their middle twenties, dave is around his 40s)

✦ a/n: This idea just popped randomly in my head and I just had to write about it. It's shorter than the fics I usually post here, but I intend to make this a series where you can read all of the fics together or read them as one shots as well, so prompts and suggestions for future parts are more than welcome! Hope you guys like it 🖤

You had always been crazy about your boyfriend's hair. Those long, silky, ginger locks of his were the first thing that caught your eye when you first met, and they'd been driving you wild ever since. No surprises how you loved playing with it in the morning, him hugging you with his face buried in your chest. Or how you loved giving his scalp a gentle rub while zoning out to TV together, his head chilling on your lap until he crashed (being a rockstar takes it out of you, right?). And, let's not forget about running your fingers through his hair, pulling him in for a slow, sweet kiss as he took his sweet time fucking you before bed. He would even let you wash it for him sometimes when you were both soaking in the tub, you sitting on his lap with your legs around his waist — and yeah, that also sometimes ended up with you two fucking, but who's complaining?

"Come on, babe? Just this once!" you pleaded, cozied up in your boyfriend's lap, perched on one of his legs. His sturdy hand gripped your waist, keeping you grounded. He arched an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips, and you threw in a pout for good measure. "I swear you'll look so damn good. Pretty please?"

You'd been on a mission to get Dave to let you braid his hair for the past couple of days. Ever since you both watched a movie about Vikings, you got hooked on those rugged, long-haired warriors and couldn't shake the idea of trying one of their styles on him. You even hit up the bookstore for a couple of hair styling mags to up your game, but Dave wasn't exactly jumping on the excitement train.

"Why don't you rock the braids on your own hair? It'd look pretty damn awesome," he suggested, genuine affection lacing his words, even though you could tell he was just trying to throw you off your mission.

"Not the same thing! My hair's not as cool as yours," you pouted, giving him those puppy eyes. "Plus, I'm curious how you'd rock it. Pretty, pretty please?"

Dave chuckled, catching your chin in his hand and planting a sweet kiss on your lips. In his eyes, you were downright adorable, even if you got a bit bratty when things didn't go your way. He figured he was to blame for spoiling you rotten. He looked into your eyes, seeing frustration and maybe a hint of tears welling up, and sighed. He knew he needed to have that chat with you again – the one about how you couldn’t always get everything you wanted from him. Yet, he also knew you'd forget about it sooner than later. Well, that could wait for another time. He didn't mind bending over backward to make you happy. It was what made him happiest, giving you whatever you wanted, however you wanted it, as far as he could swing it.

"Alright, dove. I'll give it a shot, but just this once. Deal?" he planted a soft kiss on your cheek, and you lit up like a Christmas tree. He grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes, then leaned in closer to your ear and whispered, "But you owe me a reward later, with that pretty mouth of yours."

"Okay, okay, thank you!" you squealed, wrapping your arms around his neck and almost toppling over from his lap. You knew exactly what he meant by a reward, but you didn’t care — you, too, actually loved giving him whatever he wanted, however he wanted it.

You dashed off to your room, grabbing the magazines, combs, and hair products in a hurry. Dave patiently waited on the couch, and his eyes softened with the most tender smile when you returned, hands full of your tools and the biggest, happiest grin on your face.

You dumped the stuff on the couch, standing in front of him, humming with joy as you grabbed a strand of his hair, doing your best to follow the instructions in the magazine you'd left open on the seat. Dave rested his hands on your hips, his thumbs making soothing circles on your soft skin while a small smile played on his lips.

Braiding his hair turned out to be a breeze; it was really soft, and you had a blast doing it. You went for a simple braid, starting from above his left ear and trailing a bit towards the back of his head before cascading down to the ends of his hair.

"So? How's the new look?" he asked, a playful twinkle in his eyes. Excitedly, you snatched your small, round pink face mirror and handed it over. He studied himself, raising an eyebrow. You held your breath, waiting for his verdict. Was he into it? Did he think it suited him?

"Does it look that awful?" you inquired, a small, nervous chuckle slipping out when he stayed silent for a good minute. He lifted his eyes to you, a surprised expression on his face.

"Oh, no, babe, it looks awesome!" he reassured you, and you let out a sigh of relief.

"Really?"

"Absolutely. It's killer!" He checked himself out in the mirror again. "I look cooler than I thought, actually. Wanna do this again for my next gig?"

"Are you for real?" you giggled. He nodded, pulling you into a hug.

"Totally. I reckon I'd look pretty damn cool, don't you think?"

"Oh, you'd look so, so handsome!" you exclaimed, planting a kiss on his lips while genuine laughter bubbled up. "Thank you, babe, thank you, thank you, thank you!"

"You're welcome, my sweetest," he whispered, giving your mouth another peck before moving to your cheek and then to your neck. You sighed happily, feeling your skin warm when his smile brushed against it. He kissed you once more, drawing you even closer in his embrace before whispering, "Now… How about that reward we talked about?"

#ada writes fanfiction #megadeth #dave mustaine #megadeth fanfiction #megadeth x reader #dave mustaine fanfiction #dave mustaine reader #dave mustaine x you #megadeth x you

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cookeybg · 2 months

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Unexpected Cohabitation a JonDami fic

Oh, the rollercoaster of emotions I have been on. I am simultaneously excited and fill with anxiety about posting my writing. Thankfully it has been more excitement than anything else (I couldn't even sleep the night I posted the 1st chapter.) Thank you so much to those that read it and even commented. It really made my day and encouraged me to post again. :)

Anyways, here's the next chapter!

Title: Unexpected Cohabitation

Main Characters: Jonathan Kent and Damian Wayne (some of the others show up too, the list is too long)

Eventual relationship: Jonathan Kent/Damian Wayne (my fave)

Stuff to know: No capes, reverse robins, high school AU, no smut, no Brucie Wayne, I know nothing about sports but it will show up, (aaand I think that's it, will add more if it comes up)

[In case you missed it Chapter 1 ]

Part 1 - Chapter 2

“I’m home!” Jon called out, taking off his shoes and placing them on the shoe rack next to the entrance. “Welcome home honey!” Lois popped her head out into the hallway from the kitchen, one hand covering the speaker of her cell phone, “Where’s Conner?” “He’s with Bart.” Jon saw his mom nod and resume the call she was on. He walked into the room he shared with Conner, dumping his school bag on the floor next to his desk. Both boys had loft beds with desks underneath to give each a sense of personal space in such a cramped room. Jon changed out of his school uniform into a pair of sweats and an old Cheese Vikings t-shirt. Two warning knocks stopped his from sitting and Lois opened the door. “Want to help me with dinner?” Lois asked. Jon nodded, smiling as he followed Lois into the kitchen. While prepping dinner Lois watched her son from the corner of her eye, laughing to herself at how cute her son was. He hummed and moved his hips to a beat only he knew. A slight blush graced his face and he had a smile he could not hide. “Was today a good day?”” Lois asked, amused. “Yeah.” Jon said without elaborating. “That’s good. You can tell us all about it while we eat.” Jon nodded and thought about how he had seen Jay twice after lunch. He even got to speak with him and sit in front of him in the drawing class they shared. When he had first seen the elective on his schedule he was determined to change it since he wasn’t very interested in sketching. Now, though, he was planning on staying with it. He saw Jay again when he turned in his application to the journalism club, he had even waved at him!

“I’m home!” Called Clark from the entrance, “You’ll never guess who I ran into in the lobby.” “I bet it was an escaped convict.” Said Lois while dividing up the oven baked chicken breasts into four plates. “Nope, it was me!” Conner said, emerging from the hallway already wearing a pair of jersey shorts and a tank. “Close enough.” Laughed Lois, “Help set the table please.” Conner nodded, grabbing some paper towels and utensils, placing them in their rightful places on the table. Clark ruffled Jon’s hair as he passed by turning on the living room television. Their television was old and had a couple of missing pixels on right top corner, but the sound still worked. It’s not like it was in the middle of the screen so Jon’s parents didn’t see the point of replacing it. Jon placed mashed potatoes on each plate next to the roasted carrots his mom had already plated. He could hear some lady drone on about the stock market. “Hon, turn off the TV.” Lois said, placing each plate on the table mats Conner had set. “Seems like Lex Corp. and Wayne Enterprises are going head to head in some bidding war.” Clark said, turning off the television he draped his tie on the back of the couch. He walked to the fridge to grab the pitcher of lemonade that he placed in the center of the round dinning table. Conner was already sitting and sampling the carrots with his fingers. The rest of the family joined him. Jon sat between Lois and conner and Clark sat next to Lois. “You and I know that Bruce is going to place some exorbitant bid just to get under Luthor’s skin and then win it.” Lois said smiling at Clark. “True, it’s one of his charming qualities. Clark said, filling everyone’s cup with lemonade. “Charming, eh?” Lois smirked, “guess you would know.” She smirked teasingly drinking from her cup. Clark bit into a chunk of chicken, winking at his wife. “So, boys, how did the new school year treat you today?” Conner perked up and started regaling his first day of high school. He compared the size of the school to his middle school and how much taller everyone looked. He mentioned that Bart was in his math class. “Oh! I also met this one guy whose super smart.” Conner said excitedly, “Like seriously a genius and he’s in three of my classes. Bart wants to try and form a study group with him.” “That’s a great idea, hun, maybe your grades will be better this year.” Lois teased. “My grades weren’t that bad!” Conner spluttered. Lois patted Conner’s hand and turned to Jon. “You wanted to share something with sweetie?” “Yeah.“ Jon looked up at Lois, turned to look at his two other family members, swallowed his food and cleared his throat. “I’m joining the baseball tryouts next week. The couch remembers who I am.” “That’s great news!” Clark exclaimed, “You’re basically a shoo in.” “That’s what I was thinking too.” Jon nodded, a wide grin spreading on his face, but it quickly turned nervous, “I’m also joining the journalism club.” Lois looked pleasantly surprised while Clark looked confused. Conner’s eyes ping-ponged between all their faces while shoving mashed potatoes into his mouth. “Isn’t it going to be hard juggling both baseball and the school newspaper on top of your normal school studies?” Clark asked. “Dad!”Jon rolled his eyes. “Lot’s of people take more than one club. Plus I didn’t get to take any last year due to my leg…” “Did you ask Coach if it was acceptable?” “Yes, I asked Coach and Mr. Thompson and both said that it shouldn’t be a problem, but that I had to take both commitments seriously.” “A team relies that all members pull their weight but, if you think you think you can do it-” “I think it’s a great idea!” Lois cut in.”Sounds like you’ll have lots of fun this year.” Jon beamed at Lois and Clark relented with a fond sigh.

#damian wayne #jonathan kent #jon kent #damian al ghul #damian and jon #high school au #no capes au #jondami #supersons #fanfic #fanfiction #first time writing #i hope someone likes it #be gentle

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0nelittlebirdtoldme · 8 months

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My own RMSE fic - for a fandom I haven't written for before!

“I subject myself to your orders,” Heahmund just says calmly, his words lacking any emotion. “Utterly. Fully.”

But it isn’t good enough for Ivar. “Prove it.” His teeth shine white in the dim light, glimmering up to the other man.

Or: Ivar demands for Heahmund to prove his loyalty to him.

Pretty sure @alcorc once expressed interest for me to write Viking fic (if i misremember, please forgive me). Also tagging @mikaharuka and @argyleheir, in case any of you feel like checking it out 🖤

#my fic #heavar #ivar the boneless #bishop heahmund #ivar x heahmund #vikings #rare male slash exchange

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axelsagewrites · 7 months

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Ivar the Boneless*Does He Treat You Well

Pairing: Ivar x wife!reader

Kinktober Day eleven: knife play with Ivar the Boneless – people whisper and wonder how someone so sweet could marry someone so angry, but they don’t see what Ivar does when you’re underneath him

Warnings: ivar being ivar, slight blood kink, blood, knife play, knife kink, p in v sex, nipple play, choking, hickeys, smut 18+

Masterlist Here

Kinktober List Here

You heard their whispers in the street, of course you had. You remember the concerned expressions etched into your parents face as you dedicated your heart to Ivar. You knew what people thought of him and what they feared for you.

Even Ubbe, a long close friend of yours expressed his concern. You had married Ivar a month ago yet now Ubbe was asking you the question, “Does he treat you well?” he asked in a hush whisper from where you sat at the opposite side of the hall from your husband. Your eyes flickered to Ivar as you recalled how he had treated you last night.

“Such a pretty dress,” Ivar praised as he laid by your side, his hands trailing down the fabric of your dress as you gazed up at how his pale blue eyes scanned your body, “Shame it has to go,” he muttered but you knew he was not sorry.

Especially not when he clutched the neckline, his dagger slicing through the fabric with ease. Cold air washed over your frame causing your nipples to harden while Ivar finished slicing the dress off you. his eyes raked your body, the dagger slowly being dragged up your legs. You shivered as the cool metal glided along your thigh, so light that it didn’t even scratch your skin. “Husband,” you whined, your hand gripping his wrist making his eyes raise to meet yours, “I need you,”

A low growl left his throat as his lips crashed onto yours. you felt his blade move away from your body, but you were too intoxicated by his lips to care as your hands wound up in his hair as he moved to lay over you. he broke the kiss as suddenly as he started it, his empty hand reaching to squeeze your tit before pinching one of your nipples roughly causing you to whine.

His lips moved to your collarbones, sucking harsh marks into the sensitive skin as he rolled your nipples between his fingers making it hard not to moan loudly. “Such a pretty little thing,” Ivar praised, his voice almost mocking as his eyes raked your chest.

You shivered when you felt the tip of his dagger run up your side slowly, moving over to run up your chest. As he ran the blade up between your breasts, he pressed down lightly, just enough to break the skin. A hot feeling flushed along your chest as Ivar dropped the blade, running his thumb over the cut he had made, collecting the blood on his finger.

You watched as he sucked his thumb, his eyes rolling back into his skull, “Such a sweet taste,” he praised, moving his hands from his lips to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over your cheek bone. Your hand moved to hold his wrist softly and Ivar smiled at your tenderness in even this moment. “A gift from the gods,” he murmured, his lips falling to press soft kisses down your chest to your breasts.

“Husband,” you moaned lightly as he took your nipple into his mouth.

“What is it my sweet?” he asked, trailing his mouth to the other, sucking harshly making you gasp in pleasure.

You could feel your stomach burning and your chest aching, needing his touch despite how close he already was. Your legs moved to hook around his lower back, pulling his body down gently into yours as your hands moved to cup your face, “I need you,” you whispered, pulling him in for a soft kiss.

Ivar however growled, his kiss growing more intense as his hand moved to grab your jaw. You gasped lightly when you felt his hips grind into yours, his hard cock evident through his trousers. While you had heard the whispers of his failures in the bedroom one night with Ivar proved it had just been a mishap.

His lips moved to your jaw, kissing it harshly as he trailed down your frame. His lips soon captured your nipple, his teeth grazing it making shivers run down your spin. You felt his rough hand squeeze your thigh before it slipped between them, running a finger up your slit, “So wet for me already,” he praised, “How desperate you really are,”

“So desperate,” you whined quietly, “for you Ivar. I need you please. do not make me wait,” you begged, your hips instinctively bucking as he rubbed harsh circles onto your clit, “Please husband,”

Your words seemed to spark something in the man as his hand wrapped around your neck, the other diving beneath his trousers to fish out his cock. “You want me?” he asked, and you nodded wordlessly as you felt him line himself up with your entrance, “Then you shall have me,” he grunted, pushing his tip in slowly making you gasp at his size you had still not grown used to. His eyes screwed tight in bliss as he slowly sunk his cock all the way in, his hand trailing down your throat to your breast, squeezing it lightly.

Your hips bucked, desperate for friction, and Ivar had sensed your impatience. His hips began to move, slowly at first before falling into a brutal and relentless pace. Your legs wrapped around his hips, allowing him to hit a deeper angle making curses fall from his lips.

Your eyes screwed shut, trying to stifle the moans as your fingernails sunk into his bicep. You gasped when you felt the cold blade press against your throat, but it only added to the way your body tightened beneath him. When you opened your eyes, you were met by his icy blue ones.

For a moment you wondered if it this was the sight your husbands’ enemies were forced to see before they were sent to Odin and for a moment you thought this alone would make death worth it. but they didn’t get to feel the way you did as you felt your peak soon approaching. Ivar grabbed your hand roughly, shoving it between your bodies so you could rub fast circles into your clit.

His blade moved up, pushing against your jaw making your head tilt back as Ivar’s lips dove down to your neck, kissing down the soft skin. When you felt his arm slip under your back, pulling it up and causing it to arch, you gasped as his cock hit a new spot that somehow felt even better.

Ivar groaned at the way your cunt squeezed around him, but he was determined to last until you had, and it did not take long as with a few more specific, aimed thrusts you found your orgasm rushing over you. your body tightened, your legs wrapping around him and pulling him in deeper making Ivar groan and drop the knife. He moved his arm out from under your back, grabbing at the sheets as his thrusts grew messy and desperate, his forehead resting against yours.

You felt his body stiffen as you came down from your own peak, still panting from the high as you felt him spill inside you before collapsing on top of you in a sweaty mess. After a couple of moments to allow you both to catch your breath Ivar looked up at you, his eyes tender and sweet, “Are you okay my love?” he asked.

“Are you okay?” Ubbe’s words snapped you back from reality and your eyes darted back to him, not noticing your husband’s smirk from across the room.

You smiled warmly at your brother-in-law, “Yes and you don’t need to worry Ubbe. He treats me very well, I promise,”

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woahhhgwendolyn · 4 months

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Sex With Hvitserk Would Include...

-Having sex with Hvitserk is so amazing for the both of you. You both love the days where you get to do it with each other.

-It always feels so special for the both of you to able to do this thing together.

-Hvitserk is not one of those guys that wants to have sex all day or every time of the day.

-Whenever you both are doing it, he always likes to go slow and soft with you.

-He loves the little moans that you do whenever he fucks you in just the right spot.

-He also really loves to hold you close and kiss you while he is fucking you. He likes the small things with you.

-He also always makes sure that you always cum before he does. he does not want to feel like he cannot please you in any way.

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clare-with-no-i · 6 months

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20 questions for fic writers

Thank youuu @isahorcrux for the tag! it's been so long since I did one of these omigoddddd

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

37!

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

392k. a bit crazy that the next chapter of theogony will put it over 400k. wauw!!!!

3. What fandoms do you write for?

publicly? Harry Potter and Percy Jackson. privately? I have an entire folder on my laptop called 'other shit' which is just one-shots for about fifteen different fandoms which I will never publish <3

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

god. this is really making me look at my statistics page which I actively try not to do lol. but it's one long day, I will carry you, color theory, foreigner's god, and growing pains. what can I say, the ppl love the they lived AUs!

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I try to but I'm terrible about it which is a personal failing. I am so sorry. a new strategy that helps with this is that with my WIPs I try to respond right after the next chapter is posted so the person gets a nice lil notif and they have something else to read!

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

oh hmmm. I guess the derelict art of letting go ending was angsty, but the whole thing was angsty. the end was bittersweet. maybe Invictus? ok new problem is I can't remember what I've written

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

foreigner's god! it's always clare why did you write all of that sad stuff into foreigner's god clare why did you write their deaths in such brutal detail clare I made my roommate read this and now she won't stop crying blah blah and it's never hey clare thanks for that nice ending scene where they're just married and lying in bed and vibing!!!!!!!!!

8. Do you get hate on fics?

yeah I do and I think under viking law I'm legally permitted to fistfight the commenters!!!!!!!!!!!! step up cowards!!!!!!!!!!!!

9. Do you write smut. If so, what kind?

god. lmao. yes I do! not often, though, I'm afraid. I tend to write an extremely narrow niche which is just exorcising trauma through sex and personal intimacy. I have no chill :)

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

no I actually usually dislike crossovers lol. like theogony is a fusion of the outlander premise but I can assure you that James Alexander Malcom MacKenzie Frasier will not make an appearance. crossovers stress me out and I like to keep my little fictional words separate, if I can. ok edit: on further review I've concluded that I enjoy premise swaps (these are just AUs lol), but I can't deal with characters from multiple pieces of media interacting. it's too much. stay in your lanes, my god. this isn't super smash bros.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not a whole fic but someone basically copy and pasted a bunch of lines from NAR into their story and then a bunch of drama ensued. it sucked and I don't like looking at NAR because it reminds me of it. I still think about the anon who told me about it, though. they were so lovely and so caring and kind to me. I hope they're doing well.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

yes! both with my permission and without. ha ha.

13. Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

babes I can't even finish the stories that I'm writing by myself

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

percabeth or zelink! or any doomed/short-lived/five seconds of screen time couple in a tv show or book. seriously idk why but I always fixate on the less important characters

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

I renounce this question in the name of christ. amen.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I exist not with writing strengths or weaknesses but instead a secret third thing (stupidly recognizable style)

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

see above

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I actually have a WIP where James lives in Spain to play quidditch and he speak Spanish in it :) eso me asusta mucho pq no he practicado mi español hace muchos años pero…sea lo que sea

19. First Fandom you wrote for?

percabeth! my ffnet account is still out there somewhere with ~four percabeth stories that are terrible :) just very bad :) no good :) horriblé :)

20. Favorite fic you've ever written?

theogony or foreigner's god! or suze's bday fic but that's because I have never tailor-made something for someone quite like that fic and she was so sweet about it eye can't deal

tagging my internet wife @thequibblah bestie...knocking at ur door...standing outside with an edible arrangement...

#clare is tagged #this was s'cute tysm isa!

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istorkyou · 2 years

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A Situationship (Modern!Ivar AU)

A Modern!Ivar x OFC

Warning - STRICTLY 18+ Smut. Language.

Synopsis - No strings attached. What could go wrong?

Word Count - 6083

Big thanks to @punkrocknpearls for cheerleading, laying her beta magic all over this and the AMAZING moodboard. Look at it. Look at it now. None of my bullshit would see the light of day if it wasn’t for her, so she’s to blame!

Tag List - Let me know if you want on or off :)

@smears-and-spots @punkrocknpearls @youbloodymadgenius @momowhoo @zuxiezendler @not-another-viking-fanfic-blog @ivar-s-my-brat-tamer @pieces-by-me @heavenly1927 @berryonasummerevening @synnersaint @out-of-the-box-and-into-alchemy @petite-hime @serasvictoria @mimiiinspace @itsmysticalmystery @lonewolf471 @mylifeisactuallyamess @draculasbride-blog @love-all-things-writing @southernbe @redhead7799 @kaybee87 @ivarlover @ivarhoegh @idgafiamallthefandoms @darkphoenix5037 @profoundtyrantharmony @snarling-through-our-smiles @crazyunsexycool @xceafh @bragisrunes@noway4u @batmandallyboy @complicatedbutrare

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“Shit… don’t stop… oh God… I’m gonna cum…”

Her shouts fill the air of her empty house as her fingers dig into his scalp, twisting his long hair around them. He doesn’t stop; she has to pull his hair to get his mouth off of her. Wincing, he uses his strong arms to drag himself up over her, taking advantage of her open, panting mouth to slip his tongue in.

He chuckles as she moans into his kiss. “You told me don’t stop, I was just being obedient,” he whispers.

“Oh yes, you are so obedient.” She rolls her eyes sarcastically. “I swear to God one day your tongue is going to send me into cardiac arrest. So fucking good.”

“Thank you, Ma’am.” He bows his head to her.

“Okay, you better get dressed. The kids will be back in an hour and I’ve got loads to do.”

“Fucking hell, kicked out already?” He checks his watch on the bedside table. “I’m pretty sure that’s a record.”

“Hey! You called me at the last minute, I had to fit you in around my schedule.”

“And didn’t you fit me in well, Princess?” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.

She gives him a deadpan look. “Comedian today, are we? If you must call me ridiculous names I prefer Queen,” she says in a haughty voice, before dissolving into giggles. She pulls his face to hers and kisses him, groaning at the feeling. “Seriously though, get out of my house. You can’t be here when they get back.”

“I swear you only want me for my dick.”

“I swear you only want me for my pussy,” she retorts, pushing him off her.

“That’s so unfair! I want you for your ass, tits and mouth as well.”

She looks over her shoulder at him and smiles wryly as she heads for the ensuite. “Let yourself out, Ivar. Quickly please.” She closes the door behind her. A second later he hears the shower switch on.

His mind wanders back to their first few times together: insatiable, insanely confident, never shy in telling him what she wanted from him, what she wanted him to do to her. He never once had to tell her how he liked it, she was an expert in adapting to him, his noises, the slightest of movements teaching her more than he would ever feel comfortable saying out loud.

He thinks it’s an age thing. Women his own age have never been so vocal with him, even when he asked outright what they wanted him to do, their coy responses irritated him.

She is without a doubt the best fuck of his life.

He looks around her bedroom. Super king bed with expensive sheets, three tall windows with sun streaming in them, a chest of drawers with a wall mounted TV above that they watch porn on together. The artwork she has chosen is interesting – geometric patterns, black and white – he likes them but it’s nothing he would have in his own house.

The wall behind the bed is a dark blue and the line between the wall and the ceiling is not straight which does nothing for his perfectionist tendencies. He knows she painted it herself. The first time he was invited into her bedroom it smelled like fresh paint. She had just finished the bedroom renovation then, and, he’s found out since, a renovation of her whole life.

A grin plays on his mouth as he looks to his left and sees the mirrored wardrobe. The things he has seen reflected back at him in that glass…He almost gets hard at the memories.

The bathroom door opening shocks him out of his own head and he throws the covers back.

She stops when she sees him. “Why are you still here?! I’m serious Ivar, you have to go!” Flouncing into the room, hair wrapped up in a towel, her face is flushed from the volcanic temperature she showers in. Her silver grey, silk dressing gown is tied loosely around her waist, the material clinging to her tits and full ass perfectly.

“I’m going, I’m going.” He pulls his clothes on quickly, strapping his legs and picking up his crutch as he makes his way around the bed to her.

As she unwraps her wet hair the smell of her shampoo fills the room, his eyes close as he inhales deeply. Her eyes follow him in the wardrobe mirror as he walks behind her, and grabs her hips pulling her ass against him. He buries his nose in her hair before his mouth attaches to the side of her neck as he keeps his eyes on their reflections, enjoying her body's reaction to him, eyes fluttering shut and nipples going hard under the thin fabric covering her.

“You always smell so good. Next weekend?” he says between licks on her neck.

“Maybe, I’ll check my diary,” she says cheekily. “Out, Ivar!”

He smacks her hard on her ass and does as she says, walking out onto the street and ordering an Uber. Ten minutes away. He walks to the end of her street to wait.

The car approaching is the ex. He knows the number plate from his stalking. Nothing sinister, he just likes to know what he’s dealing with. Ivar turns away so his face can’t be seen by the people in the car. There’s been a couple of times they’ve cut their timing fine and he knows he isn’t exactly inconspicuous with his crutch and leg supports.

Most important of the rules: no crossover with her children.

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

After giving the kids hugs and losing them immediately to their laptops, she turns to her ex.

“Hope they were good?” she asks him neutrally, standing in the doorway, not allowing him past.

“They were, always are,” he says breezily.

“Oh, they save their bullshit up for me, do they? I hope you fed them at least one vegetable when they were there?”

“Yeah, we had veggie pizza.” He laughs sarcastically. “I know how to take care of them.”

“Yep. Okay. See you next weekend? Friday, pick them up after school?”

“Can I come in and say goodbye?”

“Steven. Stop making shit awkward.” She sighs heavily. “Kids, come and give your dad a hug goodbye.”

“Really? It’s been so long now, I can’t come in? My kids live here!”

“And so did you, so you know what it looked like. You are just being nosey and I don't want you in my space.”

The children come and say their goodbyes and as he walks away towards his car he spins on his heels and flashes that million dollar smile at her. “I miss you, you know that?”

She smiles genuinely at him. “I don’t give a fuck. See you on Friday.”

“Why is your hair wet?”

“Goodbye, Steven.”

She closes the door in his face.

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Ivar’s Uber takes him home and as he opens his front door he can hear his brothers in his living room. He walks in on them playing his PlayStation, eating his food and drinking his beer.

“Ivar, where the hell have you been? We’ve been waiting for you. You were here one minute then gone the next!”

“Had shit to do. Just going for a shower, I’ll be back down in a minute. Get your shoes off my coffee table, for fucks sake. And use coasters, you bunch of animals. Do you know how much that table cost me? I’m definitely taking my keys back off you assholes.” He tuts as he heads to his bedroom.

He likes the shower. Soothing and peaceful. A chance to think about her. Fuck, is she sexy, filthy, funny and interesting and a good person, he’s landed on his feet with this hook up.

When he’s done they all head out for dinner to discuss the week ahead. It’s a big week for them: they’re launching two new apps to add to their already impressive portfolio and they need to make sure everything is ready.

“So, Ivar. Are you ever going to tell us where you disappear every weekend? Who is she and why haven’t we met her yet? It’s been months.” Ubbe questions, stuffing some fries into his mouth.

Ivar just shrugs and offers nothing.

“She’s probably ugly, that’s why he doesn’t introduce us. Or maybe she’s ashamed of being with him?” Sigurd laughs. “Most likely the latter.”

Ivar doesn’t bother to respond, she’s off the table as a conversation topic.

She is just for him.

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

The first time he saw her she was telling a story to her friends in the bar so animatedly she had them all in stitches. He couldn't take his eyes off her. She wasn’t his usual type at all but there was an aura about her that just pulled him straight in.

He watched her get up from the table to go to the bar. She was wearing tailored, grey trousers that were so tight that they clung to her big, high, perfectly round ass in a way that made his mouth water. He remembers thinking what he wouldn’t give to slap that amazing ass until she begged him to stop.

“The ass on her,” Ubbe’s voice pulls him out of his fantasy of leaving bite marks over her cheeks. “Ivar, look at her ass. Fuck me…” the whole table turn to look at her.

“She’s older, I bet she’s fire in bed. I’m going to chat to her. Out the way, Ivar.” Ubbe taps his shoulder and Ivar reluctantly moves to let his brother out.

He glares at them as Ubbe introduces himself and they chat for a few minutes before she heads away and Ubbe returns looking dejected.

“It’s a no go, boys. Shame. That fucking ass…”

Ivar feels a strange sense of relief that she didn’t go for it although he knows now that his chances are almost zero. She’s probably married.

He grabs his pint and heads outside for some air and some peace. The bar is loud and hectic and sometimes it becomes too much and he needs quiet.

She comes out of the bar, phone glued to her ear and Ivar listens to her conversation.

“…is that why you called me? We agreed you wouldn't contact me unless it is about the children. I don’t answer to you, Steven. For the last time, stop intruding into my private life. We share children, that is it. What I do with my time when they are with you is none of your business anymore.” She hangs up and her head falls back as she lets out a silent scream into the sky.

“Fucking cunt,” she lets out under her breath and Ivar can’t help the laugh that escapes him.

Her head turns to him and at the sight of him laughing at her she starts to laugh as well.

“Not my finest moment you just witnessed,” she shrugs unapologetically.

“Oh I don't know, I’m pretty sure all your moments are fine.”

She furrows her brow at him and laughs again.

“I’m Ivar,” he holds his hand out to her. “Sorry about my brother earlier.”

“Who?”

“The guy at the bar?”

“Oh him. He was no bother. He did mention my ass five times in about three minutes though.” She grimaces.

“Well, and I mean this with the utmost respect, you have got the best ass any of us have ever seen.”

She looks shocked for a second then he watches her face turn dangerously cheeky. She turns her back towards him then looks over her shoulder, pointing at her butt.

“What? This ass? This one right here?” she says playfully.

He cracks up and drags his teeth over his bottom lip, raising his eyebrows in surprise.

“Yep. That one. That ass.”

“Surely not this ass?” She arches her back a bit and her grin is devilish.

His eyes rake all the way down her back and settle on it. He tips his head to the side, eyes narrowing, his gaze glued to her buttcheeks. “You're trouble.”

“Am I?” she asks flirtily. She turns around and his eyes drag all the way over her body until they reach her face. “Is there anything else you like about me or is it just my ass?”

It’s not often Ivar gets thrown off, he’s usually the cocky one in all his interactions but she’s caught him off guard, staring straight into his eyes waiting for an answer. The confidence is radiating off her and it’s knocking his usual bravado for six.

She takes a step towards him and the smell of her shampoo fills his nose. When he straightens his back he is almost a foot taller than her but as her head tips back to keep her eyes on his face he knows she is totally in control here.

“Cat got your tongue? I bet you’d like my phone number.” she says in a matter of fact way.

“I would very much like your phone number.”

She puts her hand out gesturing for him to hand his phone over and types it in.

“And I would very much like you to use it. Maybe later on tonight?” She hands his phone back. “Enjoy my ass as I walk away, Ivar.”

And he very much does.

When he goes back into the bar she is chatting with her friends and he heads back to his table.

“About time, Ivar. We’ve been waiting for you. Come on, we’re heading out.”

As he walks past her table he catches her eye and she gives him a little half smile which he returns.

“I saw that, Brother.” Hvitserk remarks, his tone teasing.

“You didn’t see shit,” Ivar replies flatly.

He is definitely going to call her later.

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

Thoughts of her fill his head for the rest of the evening: how she is going to taste, how her mouth will feel on his skin, how that perfect ass is going to feel in his hands. Nobody notices how quiet he is, they’re used to him brooding. His phone barely leaves his hand, flipping it over constantly to check the time trying to decide when he can call her. He settles on a text message.

Hi, it’s Ivar. I want to see you later. Where shall we meet?

It’s over an hour before he receives a reply, in that time getting increasingly tetchy that he won’t get one. He pounces on his phone the second the screen lights up.

Ivar. How very forward of you, and not even a please. Tut tut.

He huffs out a laugh at her response, a grin covering his face.

Sorry. PLEASE can I see you?

Eyes glued to the screen he waits impatiently for a few minutes before his screen lights up again.

54 Belmont Road.

He doesn’t even say goodbye to anyone. He’s out of the club and into a taxi in record time. Belmont Road; he thinks he knows that place, and if it’s the one he’s thinking of she must be pretty well off.

When the taxi pulls up it is indeed the road he thought. A tree-lined, wide well kept road, no cars parked on the street, a sure fire sign of money. He walks up the gravelled drive, noting the Range Rover with this year's plates on it. The house is massive, imposing almost.

A sharp knock on the sage green door, and sees her approaching through the stained glass panels. She opens the door and pulls him in by the shirt quickly and slams the door behind him.

“Hello Ivar. Sorry about that, nosy neighbours.”

Her champagne coloured, satin camisole is short and low cut and so clingy he can see the outline of her tits perfectly.

“Fuck, you are so hot.”

She gives him her naughty smile. “Imagine what it looks like from the back. Actually, you don’t have to imagine.” She turns towards her stairs and takes two before stopping abruptly.

“Are you okay with stairs or would you prefer we stay down here?” she asks completely neutrally.

He appreciates her directness, no bullshit, just an honest question without the lingering connotation of pity that often accompanies questions about his legs.

“I would climb up a sheer rock face if it meant I got to touch your ass at the top.”

The naughtiest smirk he’s ever seen on anyone's face is plastered on hers.

He stays on the bottom step and just watches her. She isn’t wearing any underwear and her ass is fully on view to him. He literally groans at the sight and his dick is already hard.

“Follow me, Ivar.”

He doesn’t need telling twice. When he reaches the top and finds her bedroom she is already on her bed, waiting for him.

“Top off,” she directs.

This isn’t how his usual hookups go:, he’s always the one in charge. He knew this would be different and his excitement builds further.

“It smells in here,” he remarks, grimacing a little.

“Just painted. Top off,” she repeats.

He pulls his top over his head and enjoys the way her eyes widen, taking in the sight of his tattoos and muscles.

“Do you have them on your back?”

He balls up his top and throws it on a chair before he turns around slowly, arms held wide, so she can see them.

“Fuck, you are so hot.” She repeats his words back to him and when he faces her again he can see a flush in her cheeks.

He sits on the edge of her bed and unbuckles his leg braces letting them drop to the floor before twisting around, pulling himself towards her, forcing her onto her back. Her soft hands run all over his chest and when he sees her lick her lips in anticipation he rolls his hips into her. The movement makes her eyes flutter softly and her legs clamp around his waist, urging him to do it again.

Ivar loses his composure in that moment: his mouth is on hers, frantically travelling down her neck to her chest. His hands are pushing her cami up over her hips and he slips his hand underneath her grabbing handfuls of her perfect ass.

She is pulling at his belt buckle wildly, popping his buttons open and slipping both her hands down the back of his boxers to grab his ass, pushing all the material off of him.

“Talk about me having a nice ass,” she squeezes hard, fingernails digging into his flesh; he hisses into her skin as she pushes his trousers down to his thigh and reaches down, curling her fingers around his hard dick, gently moving her hand up and down. Her hands feel so good on him that he starts to fuck into her fist, groaning against her chest.

“I knew you'd have a big dick, you give off big dick energy. Do you have anywhere to be tomorrow?”

“Huh? What?” He pulls his mouth off her nipple and looks at her.

“Look, I wanted this to be a marathon fuck.” She’s not mincing words. “I wanted to tease you, edge you, make you beg for my pussy but you are so fucking sexy, I just need your dick inside me now. So if you can stick around tomorrow I will give you the full show.”

He stares at her, open mouthed at her candour. “If I have plans I will cancel them,” he manages to get out.

“Thank fuck. Get a condom, bedside table.”

He rips open the packet and rolls the rubber down himself and is back over her, holding his dick out, running the tip through her folds.

“Now, Ivar.”

He pushes into her and starts to fuck her hard, staring at her face which is screwed up in pleasure, her moaning spurring him on to fuck her even harder. He drops his face into her neck trying to pull himself back from the edge; watching her face has tipped him dangerously close to orgasm already and there is no way he is going to be that guy tonight.

He reaches between their bodies and finds her clit, circling quickly, desperate to make her come before he does. He feels her clenching around him and he lifts his face out of her neck so he can have the pleasure of watching her come.

Her face is a beautiful picture: mouth slack, breath held, eyes screwed shut.

“Open your eyes, look at me,” he tells her, right before she explodes into screams, her pussy pulsing around his dick. He somehow manages to stave off his own orgasm and when her senses return she pushes him back roughly.

“Fuck that was amazing. On your back, up there.” She points to the head of the bed and he crawls up, arranging the pillows so he is comfortable.

She stands up, pulling her camisole over her head and he gets his first look at her fully naked. She doesn’t have the same body type he usually goes for: she has much rounder hips and stomach, thick thighs he want to sink his teeth into, but she is so fucking sexy it makes him wonder if she’s changed his preference forever.

“You like more than my ass now, don’t you, Ivar?” she asks knowingly with a tiny raise of an eyebrow.

She is so confident. She doesn’t cover up, no coy looks, no hurried movements. She just stands next to the bed and looks him over, completely unapologetically. He isn’t used to this level of self assurance, poise. She looks him over: his legs, his dick, his chest, his face.

“Sexy as hell,” she sighs “So, seeing as you like my butt so much I thought you might enjoy the view of me riding you.”

She climbs up over him and turns towards his legs. A creeping feeling of unease takes him over for a second but it vanishes as soon as she reaches between her legs, grabs his hard dick and sinks onto him.

“Fuuuuuuuuuck….” he lets out slowly.

She giggles and looks back at him as she moves her hips back and forth over him. Her back muscles contracting make him reach out his hand to run it all over her skin down to her ass, where he digs his fingers into her ass cheeks as she picks up the pace of her movements.

She turns her head and gestures for him to look that way and fuck, is he glad he did: He stares at their reflection in her mirrored wardrobe.

“Oh shit…” is all he can manage as he watches her riding him in the reflection, tits bouncing, hips working him over perfectly, mouth open, moans spilling out into the room.

She slows for a second. “Ivar, can I move your legs? Just so I can put my hands on the mattress? I can get a better rhythm like that, plus your view will be better,” she wiggles her eyebrows at him.

He nods stiffly. He would have flown off the handle at this request usually, but there is something about her that is so genuine that he doesn’t take offence at all. The strange sensation of her warm hands over his scarred, bony legs has his eyes closing in pleasure. He hasn’t let anyone touch them in years. She lingers on them longer than necessary and he wonders whether his thoughts have found their way out audibly. She runs her hand from his ankles slowly up to where her thighs are resting gently on his, and when she glances over her shoulder, she gives him a small smile.

There is a shift in her weight as she places her hands on the mattress between his legs and tips her hips back. Fuck was she right about the view.

As she moves up and down, he can see the way she is stretched out around him, how wet she is. She's leaving the condom covered in her juices and it’s the hottest view ever.

“Ivar, will you finger my ass?” she pants out. “I need you to fill me up completely. There's lube where the condoms were.”

He’s glad she is turned away from him because he’s pretty sure she would laugh at his face: pure shock with a face-splitting smile. “Are you for real? Fuck yeah I will.”

Have I just won the one night stand lottery? He scrabbles in the open draw and clicks the lid of the lube, coating his thumb, then throws it to the side.

He swipes his thumb over her asshole, making her squeak, and pushes into her slowly. She lets out a low moan and starts to move again.

He thought he was far off from coming but as he watches his thumb slip in and out of her perfect ass, her pussy gripping him tight, he’s on the edge quickly. By sheer luck she comes again suddenly and the clench of her walls around him has him pulling his thumb out of her, gripping her hips and fucking up into her hard until he spills into the condom with a roar.

She sits up straight moving her hips in tiny circles as she runs her hand up her neck, unsticking her sweaty hair.

She lifts a little, holding the condom in place as she gets off his softening dick, flopping down onto the bed beside him.

“I needed that. It’s been a while.”

He faces her. “How long?”

“Four months. And the last guy was a one night stand and it was one of the most disappointing experiences I’ve ever had.” She starts to laugh at the memory of it.

“Shit, well I hope it was better this time,” he says modestly knowing full well it was awesome.

“Oh it was much fucking better. Two orgasms, man. Great work!”

“Thank you. Although, full disclosure, that second one took me by surprise!”

“Me too, that’s what a thumb in my ass does to me.”

They both dissolve into giggles.

“So, are you staying over? I’m tired.”

“If you don’t mind? Tomorrow's offer you made is far too tempting to pass up on.”

“Okay, good. I’m just going to get ready,” she gets off the bed and hands Ivar his braces, his crutch and his boxers. “There’s a bathroom down the hall, third room on the left.” She disappears into the ensuite and closes the door. He quickly gets dressed and heads down the hall.

He can’t resist, he looks into the rooms with open doors. Spare bedrooms and two bedrooms clearly occupied by young teens. One room has a drum kit and the other is covered in band pictures and skull bedding.

He finds the main bathroom and does a double take at the size of it. It’s as big as any of the other rooms, A roll top bath sits against a wall and the shower is a walk in with a giant shower head and sprays from the side as well. His eyes widen and he wonders what she does for a living. Or what her ex did?

He wishes he could have a shower but it’s not possible, it never is at other people’s houses. After he is finished getting cleaned up he heads back to her bedroom and she is reading her phone. He hesitates for a second; he feels strange staying over. That feeling alone is strange in itself: he doesn’t usually.

“Are you coming in or are you just going to stand there looking lost?” she asks, clearly amused at his stillness. “If you’ve changed your mind about staying, that’s fine.”

“Have you changed your mind about fucking me into oblivion tomorrow?”

“I haven’t,” she replies.

“Okay, then I’m absolutely staying.”

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She wakes up first and jumps out of skin when she turns around and bumps into him. Her squeal shocks him awake.

“What? What’s wrong?” He says, clearly disorientated at the abrupt wake up.

She lies back on the bed, hands over her racing heart and starts laughing. “I’m so sorry. I completely forgot you were here! It scared the shit out of me. I’m not used to having anyone else in my bed.”

“Oh that’s nice, I’m so forgettable that you’ve discarded the memory of last night before I’ve even left your house?!” He jokes and starts to poke her in the side over and over, climbing over her as she tries to scrabble away from him. “You aren't going anywhere, I'm gonna give you something you won’t forget.”

He pins her arms above her head and grinds his morning glory against her.

“I definitely need a reminder. It’s all very hazy…” she tells him breathlessly as his mouth trails over her chest and makes his way south.

She draws in a sharp breath when his tongue finds her clit effortlessly. “Softer, Ivar. Yeah just like that,” she covers her mouth to stifle her moans.

“Hey, don’t cover your mouth, no one is home apart from us, right? Let it all out for me.”

“Sorry, force of habit,” she admits.

When he slips his finger into her and swipes his tongue over her she doesn’t hold back, high pitched moans with the occasional instruction that he listens intently to, and it has her fingers tangling through his hair in no time.

He looks up from between her legs to see her chest heaving and he slowly removes one of his fingers and pushes it quickly into her asshole. Her repeated swears have him smiling proudly into her pussy and she cums in his face a minute later.

He crawls back over her, planting soft kisses on her thighs, hip, stomach and chest on his way. “You think you’ll remember that?”

“Hmm I might need a reminder later.” She kisses him hard, groaning at the taste of herself on his lips. “I taste good.”

“Yeah you do.” He kisses her again.

“Okay, I’m starving, I need breakfast. Need the energy for what I’m planning on doing to you all day.” Her eyebrows wiggled at him.

“I’ve definitely won the hook up lottery this weekend,” he says with a massive grin. “There’s a great cafe not far from…” he watches her freeze. “…or not?”

“It’s a bit gossipy around here. It will be the scandal of the decade if I’m seen out with you at breakfast time.”

“Okay, I get it.”

“Listen, I don’t give a flying shit about what people say about me, but it could hurt others.”

“Your children?”

She nods after a moment’s pause. “No one wants to hear that their mum has been spotted out with some young guy she’s spent the night fucking, you understand?”

“Some young guy? Nice,” he mutters, annoyance written clearly across his features.

“Look, it’s not personal. I wouldn't take anyone out for breakfast around here. It’s not about you. Honestly. Believe me, I would very much like to show you off. I’d take you to breakfast shirtless to show you off if I could.” She playfully nudges his shoulder, watching his annoyance fade to an amused smirk.

“Fine. Shall we cook then? What are we having?”

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They go back to bed after breakfast and she makes sure she lives up to her promise. She is pretty certain nobody has spent this much time and attention on him in his life, and she wonders whether he just hasn’t allowed them to. He doesn’t seem insecure to her, but nonetheless She guesses he’s probably into hookups and has never really let anyone close enough for a relationship. But he isn’t in charge today, she is, and she makes him enjoy every single second of it.

Hours later they are both completely spent.

“I’m going for a shower, I’m sticky. Do you want to use the main bathroom shower?” He tenses up at her question, she sees she’s touched a nerve so she offers him another option. “Or the bath if you can’t shower with the braces on? Do you have an adapted shower at your house?”

The tension leaves his shoulder when she asks him openly about his own home. It’s the same ease of tension she saw when she asked to move his legs last night and paid them some attention, and the realisation hits her like a ton of bricks. He isn’t used to it. He’s probably been judged his whole life because of them. She has never been one to shy away from open discourse, even about subjects others may find awkward.

“I’ve got a walk in shower but it’s got a ledge around it from the entrance so I can sit under sprays, it’s custom. It’s okay though, I can have a bath.”

It’s written all over his gorgeous face that he doesn't really want one, so she pushes him gently. “You sound thrilled at that prospect.”

“I only usually have them in the winter. I prefer showers.”

“Ooo I have an idea. Stay here.” She thinks of something that might work. She runs downstairs and through the house to the conservatory and picks up one of the white seats. She struggles back up the stairs and gives him a smile as she sees him come out of her bedroom.

“What are you doing?”

She places the chair under the shower head, thankful she went for the bigger shower when she renovated it.

He walks into the bathroom and looks between her and the chair.

“Will that work? It’s got holes in the seat, its own drainage! It’s from the conversatory.”

He shakes his head a little with a look of bewilderment in his face and she is a little disappointed that her genius idea isn’t going to help him.

“Oh it won’t work, too awkward to get in and out? Okay, just an idea.” She picks the chair up to remove it.

“No,” he says quickly, “that will be good actually. Thank you. That’s… that’s very thoughtful.” She sees the way he’s looking at her, and she absolutely knows without a doubt now that people don’t go out of their way for him often.

“It’s no biggie, towels are in that cabinet.” she says breezily and gives him a quick peck as she heads past him to her own bathroom.

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As she puts the chair into the shower, his stomach does a flip. Not in anxiety, or annoyance, at the fact she has taken the time to think about him and try to cater to him.

Nobody has catered to him. Ever. To be fair he has never allowed it, but no one has ever done it without asking him before. Nobody has just taken it upon themselves to do anything like this without checking with him first.

She isn’t being tentative, she isn’t worried about offending him, she is being proactive in her help and good fucking God if he isn’t astounded by it.

By her.

“Will that work?” Her question registers somewhere between his internal dialogue but he is so happily shocked he shakes his head.

When he sees her face drop in disappointment he quickly scrabbles to let her know how much he appreciates it. He knows his words are crap, something about being thoughtful when really he wants to grab her and squeeze her tightly and let her know how much something so simple has meant so much to him.

This woman is another level.

Shit.

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The rest of the day flies by, a little too quickly for his liking and soon he is standing in front of her front door. They both have plans, he would happily bail on his to spend another night with her but she doesn’t offer to do that so he stays quiet.

“I had a really good time with you, thank you,” he steps towards her, slips his hand around the back of her neck, pulls her mouth to his and kisses her deeply for a long time. He pulls away and places his forehead on hers, getting a last look at her.

“Can we do this again, Ivar? Maybe one Friday or Saturday night?”

She asks him so confidently, with no caveats, no “only if you want to” or apologies for what she wants. She is open and honest, and he does an internal fist pump at her question. She wants to see him again and she hasn’t been shy about asking for that, and he absolutely wants to do this again.

“Next Friday?” He asks with a splitting smile in his face.

Chapter 2 - Coming Soon

#vikings #MODERN VIKINGS #vikings au #vikings fic #vikings fandom #vikings fanfic #Modern!AU #vikings modern au #modern ivar #modern!ivar #ivar #ivar the boneless #ivar ragnarsson #ivar smut #ivar fanfic #ivar imagine #ivar lothbrok

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at1nys-blog · 6 months

Text

Hi, I don’t know how to properly make one so if it looks chaotic just know I don’t have any clue how to make this properly. Let just start then.

How to requests posts:

You can: request as an anon

But: leave an rappresentative emoji/letter/phrase/whatever

Why: so I know if you already requested, in that case it will pushed unless no one new requested something.

You can: ask me to write a fem/male!reader

If: you don’t I’ll automatically make gn!reader

You can: give reader a specific nationality/job.

You can: request a SMAU

But: you HAVE to give me more details, which can be discussed on private if you want

Or: you can trust me and leave it to me

But: in this case it might take me longer than usual.

In this case: at least tell me how you want things to develop; any plot twists involved I WONT ACCEPT A SMAU REQUEST FROM ANONS SINCE I WILL TAG PEOPLE

Please: say if you want a male!reader because my SMAU are always a fem!reader, is easier for me like that

You can: request a Character x Character

Might add more

Things I won’t write:

Romantic xreader insert for minors celebrities. As for now just Xikers. Just give me a name to use

Anything with cheating involved.

Anything with pregnancy.

No smut. Might change but as for now I won’t. I have nightmares since the last time I tried

ANYTHING THAT ROMANTACISES MAFIA RELATIONSHIP. This is very important pls take it in consideration.

ANYTHING FOR YUK1O OKUMURA AND T3TTA KISAKI. Another important rule to follow. I don’t like the guys I won’t write for them no matter what. Of course they’ll be mentioned, I just don’t want the focus to be on them.

I will not write kdrama ff. Both reader insert or Character x Charaxter

Might add more

I will not make a gn!reader SMAU AND THIS IS JUST BECAUSE IM NOT VERY COMFY WITHOUT A SPECIFIC GENDER FOR THOSE TYPE OF FANFICTION I’m pretty sure you can find blogs that does that, sorry if I’m not that type of blogs 😞

What might be taken down:

Why: they might not tell me anything. But try your luck I guess

Requests with celebrities or fandoms I don’t know

Why: I don’t have enough knowledge about them

Requests for latest MCU tv shows

Why: I didn’t like them, I don’t know what happened

Requests for fandoms I don’t follow anymore. Ex: Harry Potter; Doctor Who

Why: I might not have any ideas for those unless you have one

Attack on titans. I liked the first couple of seasons but then it got meh for me

Might add more

Things I will write:

Angst

Friends-2-lovers

Enemies-2-lovers my favorite

Strangers-2-lovers

And so on

Suggestive is a green light so ask if you want

Single parent!Au

Fantasy!Au and more

Smau

Fake texts

Headcanons

Might add more

For who I write:

But 1st, a couple of important things:

I might need to age up some underaged characters depending on the request

Is going to be divided in 5: List #1 is about my top favorite show/anime/manga/celebrities not counting One Piece and the MCU tv shows are about fandoms that I think no one writes for/writes less for THIS IS A FIXED LIST WILL MAYBE CHANGE SLIGHTLY IN THE FUTURE BUT ONLY IF I FIND SOMETHING THAT I LIKE AS THOSE FANDOMS AS WELL; List #2 is about fandoms I write for rarely because I am always for a loss of ideas; List #3 fandoms I haven’t wrote for yet; List #4 list of fandoms I never thought to write for but I won’t mind writing if someone asked.

MAINLY DOES NOT MEAN I WILL NOT WRITE FOR OTHER CHARACTERS. IT JUST MEANS THEY KINDA HAVE PRIORITY

List #1:

BLUE EXORCIST

Mainly: Bon, Renzo and Rin

One piece

Mainly: Zoro, Eustass Kid, ShanksxBuggy

Tokyo Revengers

Mainly: Mitsuya, Haitani brothers and Hanma

MCU LOKI HAWKEYE AND MOON KNIGHT

HVITSERK/MARCO ILSØ

MAMAMOO

DREAMCATCHER

Block B

Mainly: P.O.

Six of crows

List #2:

Actors in general will take longer if I don’t know the one you requested

Ateez

Stray kids

Grey’s anatomy

MCU

Criminal Minds

My hero academia

Alice in Borderland

Mainly: Chishiya and Kuina

List #3

Other Marvel movies/tv shows

Vikings

Mainly: Floki (non romantic), Ubbe, Hvitserk and Ivar

The last kingdom

Supernatural

Mainly: Dean Winchester

Jujutsu Kaisen

Chainsaw man

Fullmetal Alchemist: brotherhood

Noragami

List #4

IF YOU SEE A FANDOM YOU WOULD LIKE TO REQUESTS IN THIS SECTION IT DOES NOT MEAN I AM NOT GOING TO WRITE FOR IT IS JUST I NEVER WROTE AND I WONT WRITE UNLESS PEOPLE ASK FOR IT SO ASK ANYWAY

Avatar the last Airbender

Trigun Stampede (2023)

Fire Force (anime ver.)

The legend of Korra

Aespa

Itzy

Seventeen

Twice

(western) singers

2 Broke Girls

One Chicago

Stranger Things

Sweet Home

The Last of Us (tv show ver.)

The umbrella academy (might take a while I have to rewatch it)

Game of Thrones

Doctor who

Percy Jackson

Merlin

Harry Potter

#requests #requests rules #requests are welcome #taking requests #writing requests #smau #anime smau #kpop smau #smau show

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viking-raider · 1 year

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Soothing the Shadows

Summary: You were Marshall's nurse, after he was shot by Simon Stulls. The two of you fall in love, and everything seems perfect, but it's strained by Marshall holding something back from you. His fear of losing you.

Pairing: Walter Marshall/Reader

Word Count: 6.5

Warning: M - Mention of Violence, PTSD, Severe Flashback, Mention of an ugly divorce, Language, Fluff, Alcohol Use, Mental Health battle - SMUT - fingering (F receiving), protected intercourse.

Inspiration: So, for this fic, I sort of meshed Marshall and Sy together into one.

Author’s Note: I hope you enjoy it! Line divider by @FIREFLY-GRAPHICS!

If you would like to get notifications for my writing! Just follow my Tag List blog, @VIKING-RAIDER-TAGLIST and turn on the notifications for it! It’s that easy!’

Dating a homicide detective wasn't easy. Especially, when that homicide detective was Captain Walter Marshall.

The pair of you had met after Marshall was injured on the job, having been shot by Simon Stulls and his twin brother. You were the nurse that took care of Marshall, while he recovered from the near fatal wound that rendered him in the Intensive Care Unit for two weeks.

“How are we feeling tonight, Captain Marshall?” You asked, breezing into Marshall's private room, with a bright smile, finding your grumpy and sometimes difficult patient in his bed, one massive arm in a sling and the other working the remote control to his tv.

“Hm.” Marshall huffed back at you, rolling his eyes.

You chuckled at him, not taking it personally. “How's your pain level?” You inquired, checking his medical chart to see the notes from his previous nurse, before moving over to examine the vitals on his monitors. “Better than yesterday?” You asked, lifting a brow in his direction, remembering the discomfort he had been in.

“Six.” He rattled off the number, shrugging his good shoulder.

“Would you like me to get you anything for it?”

“No, I'm fine.” Marshall answered, sighing softly, setting the remote down on the little rolling table next to his bed and raked a hand through his hair. “I just want to get the hell out of here.”

“Is our hospitality that bad?” You quipped, giggling at him, hoping to get him to at least smile. “I could phone the manager.”

Marshall looked up, his blue eyes regarding you for a long moment, making you feel like he was reading your soul, before he finally responded. A twinkle in his gaze. “No, I'd hate to complain to the manager. Especially when there's one bright spot in the hospitality.”

“Well that's-” You gulped, shifting in your rubber nurse's clogs. “That's good to know, Captain Marshall.” You told him, a bit sheepish.

“Marshall.” He corrected you, gently. “Just call me, Marshall.”

“Marshall.” You smirked, nodding your head. “I'm glad you enjoy the hospitality. But I also hope you go home soon. I'm sure your daughter is ready for you too.” You said, changing the subject, so the heat in your cheeks would cool off.

“And, your wife.” You added, a small lump in your throat.

“Oh, she's-”

“Code Blue.” The Hospital P.A crackled over the speakers. “Code Blue. All personnel. Code Blue, room eighteen.”

“Oh crap!” You gasped, adrenaline starting to pump through your veins. “I'm so sorry!” You said quickly, before rushing out of his room.

Sadly, you weren't able to see Marshall again. Your code blue patient took up most of your time and when you were finished with them and your other rounds, Marshall had been released to go home. You were happy for him, even though you were a bit sad that you hadn't been able to say goodbye and see him off.

But you got another opportunity to come your way.

“Hey.” One of your co-workers tapped you on the shoulder as you stood at the nurse's station, filling out a medication request. “There's a super handsome guy asking for you.”

You looked up from the computer. “What?” You frowned at her, confused. “Who?”

“I don't know, I didn't get a name. But he's damned sexy.” She chuckled, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

Shaking your head, you leaned over the counter of the nurse's station, looking down the hall and towards the doors that allowed entry onto your floor. You were shocked to see Marshall standing there, reading one of the posters on the wall. “Oh my god!” You gasped, quickly pulling back, before he could see you.

“Do you know him?”

“Yeah, he was one of my patients.” You told her, fussing over your black, whimsical bee, scrubs and hair.

“Well, you must like each other.” She commented, watching you with amusement.

“Shut up.” You chuckled, going by her and trying to act natural and calm, despite being nervous beyond belief. “Marshall, what are you doing here? Is everything all right? Is your wound healing?” You asked, trying to be professional.

“Everything's fine.” He smiled at you, instinctively touching his shoulder. “It's healing great.”

“Then, what are you doing here?”

“I-uh-came to see you.” He confessed, biting the inside of his lip. “I wanted to know, if you'd like to get some coffee with me, sometime?” He asked, shoulders stiffening with resolve.

You narrowed your eyes at him, cocking your head to the side. “Aren't you married?”

Marshall drew in a deep breath, tightly folding his arms over his chest. “I was married, yes.” He replied, his face darkening. “Angie and I divorced some time ago. It's complicated and not something I'd like to get into.”

“All right, as long as I'm not being a home wrecker by accepting your offer.” You answered, relieved.

“I assure you, you're not.” Marshall said, relief dancing in his blue eyes. “So, when are you next available?”

You looked down at your watch, tilting your head side to side for a moment. “I can take my lunch break right now.” You told him, meeting his gaze with a smirk.

“All right.” He nodded, turning to push open one of the doors behind him, for you.

That day had changed both your and Marshall's lives. You quickly fell in love with each other and craved each other constantly. But there was a drawback to dating Marshall. You hadn't made that step to move in with each other yet, as much as you wanted too. So, you went to one another's place. It was usually Marshall coming over to your flat though, after he got off from his shift at the station. You would make him dinner and the two of you would cuddle up under a blanket on the couch with a glass of wine, or more specifically, a glass of wine for you and a glass of whiskey for him, to watch a movie or one of the shows the two of you had become interested in together.

“Walter.” You giggled, shifting beneath the heavy comforter the two of you were under, trying to watch Peaky Blinders.

“What?” He husked back, turning his head into the side of your face, moaning softly, while his hand squeezed the inside of your thigh again.

“Keep that naughty hand to yourself, Captain.” You teased, turning your face into his.

“I don't know what you're talking about.” Marshall replied, feigning innocence.

“Oh yeah?” You chuckled, smelling the sharp honey and caramel of the whiskey on his breath. “What's this?” You asked, rubbing your legs together against his hand.

“Oh, you mean that hand.” He smirked, gently nudging his nose against yours. “I don't know how it got there, but since it is.” He said, pushing it up to cup you through the thin, purple fabric of your panties.

Your gasp melted into a deep whimper, as Marshall started to rub you, watching you through hooded and lusty blue eyes. You turned, pressing your back against the armrest of the couch and opened your legs, giving Marshall full access to your dripping womanhood. He reached under the quilt, not removing it, to keep the chill of the room off of you, as he all but tore your underwear off your body. Tossing them absently over his shoulder and behind the couch, Marshall's hand was back on your privates within a millisecond.

“Oh Christ.” You mewled, arching your back against his hand, his middle finger slipping between your slick folds as he caressed you, teasing you. “Walt, please!” You begged him, pushing the heel of one of your feet into the top of his thigh, nudging his leg impatiently.

“Mm-mm.” He shook his head at you, curving that evil digit into your canal. “I haven't seen you in two days, babe.” He panted, licking his lips. “I want to enjoy it.”

“Then take your fucking shirt off, Marshall!” You barked, outraged and worked up as the tip of his finger grazed your sweet spot.

Marshall laughed, “That requires me to take my hand off of you.” He pointed out, amused by your situation.

You dropped your head back on the couch arm, then sat up, shivering as Marshall's finger reached different angles, and grabbed at his shirt. Bunching the knitted material in your hands, you yanked on it until you managed to pull it off over his head, then tossed it in his face for extra drama. Making him chuckle and toss it back at you, before driving his finger deep into your spot. Caught off guard, your hand flew out, clawing into the exposed skin at the top of his shoulder and leaving very angry crescents behind in their wake.

“Lord have mercy, Marshall!” You cried out, your head flying back, while you rocked on his hand.

“Lay back.” He purred at you, planting a kiss to your fingers. “Let me make you feel good.”

“You always do, Donut.” You teased, laying back again, tugging the blanket up over you as you did.

Marshall blushed slightly at your nickname for him. “I try, Angel.” He replied, gently working his finger inside of you, crooking it to tease your walls, knowing all the places to hit.

Your toes curled and you moaned softly, eyes rolling shut as you rutted against his hand, rolling your hips. Marshall looked at your face, a soft smirk on his own, seeing the pure pleasure you were in. He slipped in a second and started rubbing your clit with his thumb, drawing out a loud sigh from you. The want to keep that look on your face forever was so strong inside of Marshall. You were relaxed in the essence of pleasure and bliss, with no care in the world, other than what his fingers were doing to you.

“Walter, please!” You begged him, brows drawing together as you looked down your face at him.

Smirking, Walter freed his fingers from inside of you and grabbed you by the hips, pulling you into his lap and a heady kiss. He moved to the edge of the couch and stood, taking you with him, supporting you against his body as he carried you to the bedroom, one big paw rubbing firm circles over your back to keep the flat's chill away, until getting there.

“Why do you keep it so cold in here?” Marshall commented, resting you on the bed.

“I don't know. Guess I'm just used to the chill of the hospital. I don't really pay attention to it, until you show up.” You replied, giggling as you pushed the blankets to the foot of the bed.

“I should start a fire.” He said, glancing at the enclosed fireplace, in the corner of your room, as he stood at the side of your bed, unbuttoning his pants and shoving them down his tree-trunk thighs.

“You already started one.” You cooed at him, licking your lips at the titanic tent in the front of his boxer briefs, reaching out to palm it through the black material. “A big one, Bear.” You hummed, feeling the hot beast that lived within throb against your palm.

Marshall's eyes fluttered back into their sockets as you fondled him, pressing himself against your hand, growling deep in his throat and chest. You smirked up at him, leaning forward to press your lips to his hairy belly. Smoothing your palm upwards, you curled your fingers around the elastic waistband and slowly peeled his boxers down. Even with anticipation, your eyes grew and you gasped silently, when Marshall's thick and veiny, cut cock sprang heavily free from the confines of the garment.

Reaching into your bedside drawer, you removed a square object from inside and tossed it on one of the pillows, before looking at Marshall.

“Come to me.” You whispered, removing your shirt and heading up the bed.

Looking you over, like a hungry wolf, Marshall stalked up the bed towards you. Moving over you and nuzzling his face into your neck, he nibbled and kissed at the skin there and at your shoulder, while his hands smoothed down your sides, touching every inch of your body. You felt the rub of Marshall's beard as he left love-bites you'd be feeling during your shift later tomorrow. But that didn't bother you, you wanted to feel Walter with you. Always. You had one hand tugging at the curls at the back of his head and the other clawing into one cheek of his rump, as he grabbed at your knees, shoving them wide open to buck against you, his cock dripping against your slickness, mixing with the ultimate finale.

It didn't take love for Marshall's thought of lighting a fire to become nonsensical, the two of you were heated and glistening with sweat, from your combined actions and feelings. Perspiration pearled down Marshall's vast back as he pulled away from you, only slightly, his darkened blue eyes meeting yours in a hungry and sultry gaze, that sent a chill so powerful through your burning body, goose-flesh was raised.

“Mine.” He growled, in a deep pant.

“All yours.” You gulped back, nodding and sucking your lip between your teeth.

Marshall sat up between your legs, and you grabbed at the item you had tossed on the pillow earlier. It was a condom. You tore it open and took out the opaque-red and lubricated rubber, tossing the packaging carelessly to the floor, while Marshall grasped himself at the root, the head of his member changing a shade of purple, to hold his thick cock steady. You carefully rolled the protection down over his length, marveled at how it looked, snug over the throbbing veins. Wrapping your hand around the head of Walter's manhood, you stroked it downward, ensuring the sleeve was secure in place, before reaching up to grab him by the shoulder and pull him down into a heated kiss.

While you kissed, Marshall lined himself up with your weeping entrance. It never seemed mattered how many times the two of you were intimate, you never quite grew accustomed to Marshall's sheer size. Even with the help of being aroused and lubricated, there was always that initial stretch of him easing inside of you, of his girth reshaping you for the billionth time in the two years you had been dating. But it quickly subsided into something so marvelously euphoric, that you couldn't help the soft smile that crossed your lips or the curl of your toes.

He wrapped his arms around you, pressing you against his body, an arm encircling your waist and the other around your shoulders, his knees planted into the mattress, as he rocked into you. The wood headboard smacked against the wall behind it, keeping time with each thrust. Thankfully, it was an outer wall, so your next door neighbor wasn't too bothered by the noise, and he was used to your and Marshall's love making, by now.

Good and patient, Preston.

“Christ, Marshall!” You cried out, your walls kneading around him, feeling every furious movement that begged his manhood to release his magic and bring you both into a world of unimaginable bliss.

“Fuck, babe.” He panted back, his hot breath wafting over the skin of your face.

He pressed his temple against yours, letting out small whimpers of effort and moans of pleasure in random intervals. His thrusts lost rhythm and became rougher, as he neared his climax, your own aiding the effort. Marshall throbbed inside of your quivering walls and you felt the muscles of his stomach clench and become rock hard. He made his tell-tale sound, a soft, groaning sigh, as he unloaded inside of the protective barrier between you. Nonetheless, your slick canal struggled to keep a hold of Marshall's unloading and still working cock, feeling it surge inside of you. Your back arched, pushing yourself up against his clenched stomach, nails racking down his sweaty back.

“Marshall!” You cried out, shuttering with each wave of pleasure that washed through you. “Oh god, Marshall.” You whimpered, slowly lowering yourself back down, spent. “I love you.” You sighed softly, after a few moments to catch your breath.

Marshall rolled you both onto your sides, tucking your head under his chin and against his chest. “I love you too.” He whispered back, hugging you hard against him, fingers tangling in the back of your hair.

You struggled to stay awake, not wanting to fall asleep, knowing what it meant, if you did. But you were spent from a long shift, the previous night, little sleep and the exhausted pull of your love making. Soon enough, you were snoring into Marshall's collarbone. But, when you woke with a jolt a few hours later, your heart thundering in your chest, a good enough fire in the fireplace to keep your room warm, but not roast you alive, however you were alone.

“Marshall?” You called out, hoping—praying, he was just watching tv in the living room like he did, on rare occasions. “Donut!” You yelled out a little louder, turning to grab your shirt off the floor and padded into the living room, but found it cold, quiet and empty.

You sighed, realizing Marshall had left. Turning, you went down the hall to the guest room bath and discovered the mirror was still foggy. Marshall would go there to take a shower, before he left, so he wouldn't wake you by using your master bathroom. Usually, when he showered at your place, it meant he was heading straight back into the station to work some more, without bothering to go home. You wondered how many hours your boyfriend had slept, before sneaking off into the night.

“Just one night, Walter Marshall.” You whimpered, stripping your shirt off as you headed to bed again. “That's all I ask of you. Stay one fucking night with me, without vanishing like some sort of ghost.” You sighed, crawling under the blankets.

Marshall scrubbed at his eyes, while trying to focus on the police report in front of him, Harper had given him a new case to work on. It was a double homicide with a few lead suspects, but no solid proof on which of them it could possibly be. He was hitting his wit's end, three shifts, with a four hour sleep between two of them, crashed out on the small couch in his office. He'd only spoken to you through text messages through that time. The two of you had tried to meet up for lunch, but one of his suspects had been hauled into the station and he had to cancel it, so he could interrogate them.

A soft knock sounded on his office door and Commissioner Harper popped in. “How's the case going?” He asked, depositing himself into a chair across from Marshall.

The Brit drew in a deep breath and let it out, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“That well, huh?” The older law enforcement officer chuckled. “When was the last time you went home?” He inquired, seeing the dark circles under Marshall's bloodshot blue eyes.

Marshall looked at his watch. “Nine hours ago, to shower.” He replied, shooting Harper a look.

“You need to head home.” Harper snorted, shaking his head. “Don't you have a new lady in your life?” He said, lifting a brow at Walter, critically. “You shouldn't be keeping hours at the station, like you were when you were a bachelor, Marshall. I'm sure it drives her fucking crazy.”

“I know.” Marshall sighed heavily, knowing Harper was right. “It does.”

You had scolded Marshall several times about working himself into the ground and not getting a proper night's sleep. He wasn't a bachelor anymore, preferring to be at the station, then sitting alone, in the deafening emptiness of his flat. He definitely was a husband in the middle of getting a divorce, where he'd rather work eighteen hour shifts, against the alternative of going home to another argument or silent treatment from his soon-to-be ex-wife and making his daughter's life a nightmare.

He had you now, and was still acting like he didn't.

“You're right.” He said, flipping the case file closed and locking it away in his desk. “I am going to take the rest of the day off.” He nodded, stretching to his feet.

“And tomorrow.” Harper added, giving Marshall a stern look.

Marshall stared at him for a long moment, before slowly nodding. “Tomorrow as well.” He conceded, grabbing his jacket from the hook at the back of his office door.

“Hey.” Harper paused, as he stepped out into the hall, turning back to Marshall. “Surprise her. Women love that stuff.” He smirked, giving him a teasing wink before heading off to his own office.

“Yeah.” Marshall nodded, chewing on the inside of his lip.

Thankfully, he knew you had the day off, which made surprising you all the easier to do.

Marshall stopped by his place first, taking a quick shower and changed. Washed up and freshly changed, Marshall went to a small floral shop to get a bouquet of your favorite flowers, then crossed town to your takeaway spot, ordering your favorite dish with something to hit your sweet tooth, before finally heading over to your flat.

Situating things in his hands, Marshall knocked on your door and waited for you to answer, his heart pounding for a reason he couldn't put his finger on. At least, until the door cracked open and you peeked out, then his pulse calmed.

“Hey, Sugar butt.” He grinned at you, enjoying the surprised expression on your face.

You swung the door open, excited to see Marshall. “What are you doing here, Donut? I thought you had to work!” You said, bouncing on your toes towards him and wrapping your arms around his waist.

“I got some sound advice, and I decided to take it.” He replied, bending his head to kiss the top of yours. “So, I have the rest of the day off, and was told I'm taking tomorrow off as well.” He told you, holding up the bag of food and your bouquet of flowers.

“There's no one else I want to spend it with.”

“What about Fae?” You asked, your tone teasing.

Marshall rolled his eyes at you. “I'm far too boring and uncool.” He huffed, shaking his head.

“Well, you're entertaining and cool enough for me, Donut.” You giggled, pulling him into your flat.

“Thank the heavens for that.” He smiled, letting you drag him inside and into the kitchen.

“What did you get me?” You asked, dying to know what he had in the takeaway bag.

“Things you eat.” Marshall smirked, side eyeing you. “Hey, hands off!” He chuckled, batting your hand away from the bag. “Go pour us something to drink, Sugar butt!” He said, popping you on the butt and kissed your neck.

“My sweet detective, you drank all your Rich & Rare whiskey, the last time you were here.” You informed him, giving him a gentle pat on the chest.

“Oh fuck, I did.” Marshall sighed, his shoulders slumping a little.

You smiled, moving around him to go into a cabinet. “Luckily for you, you have a very thoughtful partner.” You said, pulling down a bottle of the amber colored spirit. “Who noticed it and bought another bottle for you.”

Marshall turned around, cracking a smile at you. “What did I ever do to deserve you?” He asked, reaching out to cup your face.

You nuzzled his hand for a moment, before answering. “You got shot.” You deadpanned.

“Right.” He nodded, taking the bottle from you, then turned back to the food, pulling it out and putting it on the counter, before taking down plates.

You took down glasses and set one of them next to the plates, before grabbing your chilled bottle of wine out of the refrigerator, wiggling your brows at Walter as he moved by you for the fridge himself. Winking at you, Marshall grabbed a black case from inside the freezer and turned back, smirking as he found you already nibbling on your food. Shaking his head, he set the case on the counter and opened it, before cracking the seal on the bottle of whiskey, pouring some into his glass.

“So, how was your day?” He asked, opening the case and lifting a brow in your direction.

“It's been good.” You answered, getting your takeaway on the plate. “Slept a whole extra hour and a half.” You snorted, smirking to yourself. “Took a bath, instead of a shower, which felt incredible, and started to catch up with all of the shows I'm behind on.”

“Sounds like a day off well spent.” Marshall nodded, pulling out a pair of small tongs and removed a medium sized, chilled, black whiskey stone that was nestled inside and placed it in his glass. “I hope mine goes as well.”

“Well, we can make that happen.” You told him, holding a fork out to him.

Marshall grinned at you, taking the fork. “Yeah, we can.”

The two of you took your food and drinks to the couch, finding something to watch together, while you ate. You smirked, however, watching your Donut doze on and off, his plate balanced on his knee. Setting your plate on the coffee table, you gently took his and set it beside yours, you grabbed his hand and coaxed him up to his feet.

“Mmm.” He grunted, responding to your nudges towards the bedroom.

“Ssshh.” You cooed back, not wanting him to stir from the soft doze he'd fallen into.

Getting him to your room, you lightly pushed him back, to sit on your bed, stifling your giggle at his 'umph' as he landed. Kneeling down, you untied the laces of his boots, biting your lip as you gingerly pulled them off, but Marshall barely stirred as they came free from his feet. You managed to get his shirt off, before laying him back on the bed and covering him up.

“Sleep tight, detective.” You whispered, stroking the curls off his forehead for a moment, listening to his deep and easy breathing.

Tip-toeing out of the room, you gathered up the hardly touched plates and wrapped them up, storing them away in the refrigerator for later on, carefully poured the remaining whiskey Marshall hadn't polished off into the bottle, rinsing the stones, slipping them back into their case and into the freezer. Rubbing your face, you stripped and crawled into bed with Marshall, snuggling in against his side with a smile, excited to be falling asleep with him, knowing there was a high likelihood he'd be there, when you woke up.

What you hadn't expected was how you woke up with Marshall.

You were too deeply asleep to even dream, comfortable and warm. It was pure heaven, that you were hardly aware of the loud bang, likely someone slamming a door shut or the lid of a dumpster being dropped; nothing that was significant enough to draw you from your slumber. Nothing, but the jolt and gasp beside you. You started to pull to the surface of consciousness, struggling to understand what was going on, before you felt a pair of abnormally strong tentacles wrap around your frame. Jerking you against something solid, the air was knocked out of your lungs. While you were dragged over the edge of the bed, your stomach clenched as you dropped to the floor, crying out at the force of the sudden stop.

Realization flooded you, feeling the huffing, puffing and mountainous body of Marshall move over you, one arm still crushing around your middle to pin you against him, one thick thigh wedged between yours. If you didn't know Walter as well as you did, you probably would have started screaming at the position he had you in.

But you knew him, and you knew there was something deeply wrong with your boyfriend. Even your nursing instincts were going off for something being out of place. Marshall was panting like a wounded animal, his nostrils flaring with each breath, every muscle in his body was rock hard and rigid, but he was trembling. His teeth were gritted, like he was in pain and his blue eyes were wide and on high alert, as if he was waiting for something to happen.

“Marshall?” You whispered, apprehensive to make a sound, almost afraid that he'd snap at you, but his arm only tightened, making you hiss and wiggle underneath him, but he only held you tighter. “All right.” You groaned, relaxing to rest your forehead against the carpet, taking a deep breath of relief when his arm eased against your stomach.

You racked your brain, he was a horror hardened Detective for the Manitoba police force, what could cause Marshall to react to this extreme? Could this be a flashback from Simon?

You took a deep breath, knowing you had to help Marshall out of this, to let him know he was in a safe place. You bit your lip, bracing yourself for whatever reaction he gave you. Wiggling your arm out from underneath of your body, ignoring his attempt to keep you still, you propped yourself up the best you could under his weight.

“Marshall.” You said, keeping your voice calm and as if nothing was wrong, reaching back to rest your hand on his shoulder, squeezing it gently. “It's all right, Walt. It's just a flashback.” You told him, pressing your head against his chest. “I'm all right. We're all right.” You reassured him, moving your hand to his neck, beginning to massage the tight muscles there.

“We're safe. There's nothing and no one here to harm us. I promise.”

“Unless, you look in my closet and notice the alarming ratio of scrub outfits to regular ones.” You said, making yourself giggle, hoping a light joke would cause a crack in the wall of his PTSD, since Marshall had always enjoyed your sense of humor.

But Walter didn't seem to react to any of it, though you didn't allow yourself to become discouraged.

“What can I do?” You cooed at him, wondering what was going through his mind. “Please, tell me how I can help you, Donut?”

Marshall abruptly stopped trembling against you and seemed to relax on top of you, but didn't move any farther. You took the win, patiently waiting to see if he made any further improvements. They took several more moments, with you still massaging his neck and just laying there with him, but Marshall finally seemed to regain some sense of himself.

“I'm sorry.” He mumbled, moving off of you at last.

You floundered for a moment, sitting up to rest your back against the side of your bed, unsure how to reply. “Mar-” You started, only to have him jump to his feet and storm into your en suite, slamming and locking the door behind him. “Okay.” You sighed, nodding curtly at the door. “You need space.” You said, to the air, then pulled yourself up and pulled on a pair of shorts shorts with a tank top.

Going out to the kitchen, you made yourself a cup of tea, pausing for a moment as you carried it out of the kitchen to fortify it with a small splash of Marshall's whiskey, before going to sit in the living room. You stared at the turn off tv, regarding your blurry reflection as you thought about what had happened in the bedroom with Marshall, then abruptly locked himself in the bathroom. The shower had turned on not long afterwards, making you suppose he was taking one to wake himself up and clear his head. You were still worried about him though, he had just turned into a statue after yanking you off the bed like that, forcing you to be still, like he was afraid something would happen, if either of you moved.

An hour and all your hot water later, Marshall emerged from your bedroom, his eyes pointed at the floor as he stood just passed the doorway. You set your empty cup on the coffee table and turned to look at him over the back of the couch, his wet curls were combed back off his forehead, making him look almost boyish.

“I'm sorry.” He mumbled again, folding his arms tightly over his chest, still refusing to look at you.

“I know you're sorry, Marshall.” You whispered back at him, your heart aching. “Please, sit down with me?” You begged, patting the cushion beside you.

Marshall lingered in place for a moment, before shuffling over to you and sitting down, arms still crossed. You stared at the circular and slightly puckered scar just below his collarbone, the purplish skin stood out in stark contrast to the pale skin of his chest, lightly hidden under the dark fur that covered his torso.

“I'm sorry, if I scared you.” Marshall elaborated more on his apology. “I also understand, if you don't want to see me anymore.” He added, his throat bobbing as he swallowed thickly.

“What?” You giggled, surprised. “Why would I break up with you, Marshall?”

He finally looked at you, brows creased like it was obvious. “Because of what just happened.” He growled, his jaw muscles flexing. “I could have hur-” His eyes searched you for any marks, an almost frantic look coming into them.

“You didn't hurt me, Walter.” You assured him. “You startled the hell out of me, with that wake up. You've caused me to be very concerned. But hurt me, you have not.”

“This time.” He mumbled, relaxing back into his broodiness.

“Tell me what happened, Donut.” You sighed, shaking your head at him. “I know you had a flashback. Why? Was it because of Simon?”

Marshall sighed, bouncing his leg. “It wasn't Simon.” He replied, licking his lips. “Before I was a homicide detective, I was in the British Army, I served three tours.” He paused and regarded you, deciding it was time to give you everything.

“I met Angela after I finished boot camp. She was in London for a holiday. We hit it off, and started a long distance relationship. I went on my first tour and everything was reasonably fine. I rose through the ranks quickly through my tours, I initially intended to be career Army. But between the second tour and my last one, Angie got pregnant with Fae. Which complicated things. Angie didn't want to raise her away from her parents in Manitoba, she also didn't want me being in the British Army, since it meant I'd be stationed overseas, away from them and being deployed constantly.”

“That is quite the situation.” You nodded, folding your legs on the cushion.

“It was.” Marshall nodded, his eyes distant. “My second tour had been rough, it was the first time I was given command of a squad of men. We got through it and all my men got home. But that's when some of my PTSD started. Loud noises would make me start or put me on edge. It was my last deployment, when I didn't renew my contract, so I could move to Canada with Angie and Fae, that it went through the roof. My men and I got pinned down by a group of rebels and I ended up losing two of them, despite the effort to keep them alive.” He paused for a moment, his eyes narrowing on an imaginary spot on the rug.

“Marshall?” You whispered, reaching out to rest your hand on his knee, feeling the muscle there jump slightly.

“Sorry.” He cleared his throat, shaking his head, his gaze clearing. “That's when I started having reactive flashbacks, like tonight. At first, Angie took them in stride. I thought they'd be better if I was back in 'that environment', so I joined the Manitoba SWAT team, and it worked for a short time. But Angie worried that was just as dangerous as being in the Army and didn't want Fae losing me.” He sighed, rubbing his face. “She had a point. SWAT could be just as dangerous at times. Get a person in the corner, when they're desperate, it doesn't matter if you're in a war-zone. They'll do anything to get out of that spot. Including killing you.”

“So, what happened?” You asked, biting your lip.

“I transferred to homicide.” He chuckled, smirking like he couldn't believe it himself. “Anyway, over time, Angie couldn't take my flashbacks anymore and we slept in separate bedrooms for the last four years of our marriage. They were a catalyst for our divorce.” He admitted, pressing his lips together, pained. “She even used them to gain full custody of Fae. Like, I was some sort of danger to my own daughter.”

“I don't think you're dangerous, Marshall.” You confessed, moving closer to him.

Marshall huffed at you. “Yeah, that's because I won't allow myself to fall asleep around you.”

“This is why you ghost me after we've made love?” You asked, looking at him wide eyed.

“Yes.” He nodded, staring back at you. “I'm terrified of something like that happening and losing you because of it.” He barked, jerking a hand towards the bedroom. “That I'll have an episode and I'll hurt you or it's just too much baggage for you to take.”

“Oh, you sweet Donut.” You giggled at him, grinning. “When was the last time you even had a flashback, before tonight?”

“I don't know!” He barked, raking a hand through his damp hair. “Two or three years.”

“That's not bad!” You said, wrapping your arms around his. “And we made it through this one.”

“I don't want you to make it through them.” He whined at you, looking like a hurt puppy.

“Walter Donut Marshall, I helped you get through being shot.” You grinned at him, stubbornly. “I'm pretty darn sure, I can help you through more flashbacks. You're not going to scare me away. I'm not going to break up with you. I love you, you silly Detective.” You cupped his bearded face in your palms.

“Stop running away from me, let me love you, shadows and all.”

“I have some dark shadows.” He whispered, turning his head to kiss your hand.

“Don't we all, Donut? Don't we all!” You giggled, kissing him soundly on the mouth.

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