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spockiguess · 2 years ago

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

Dedicated to Ash

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

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

Pairing: Heimdall/Female Reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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