#Viking the Black

[shuravf]

My version of Zoro & Sanji with the Elbaf Style.

(before we see the actual canon outfit😅)

[supernowa-art]

elbaf fits! they have good drip this arc!

[whitewomendreams]

[bengals-barnesbabe]

Closet Date

Pair: Husband!Justin Jefferson x Wife!BlackReader

Des: You and Justin need a break from your kids, so you find solace in your walk-in closet.

TW: MDNI 18+ NSFW | smut, p in v, fingering, descriptions of a dick, breeding kink, daddy kink, language, temper tantrums, children not playing nice, 1st POV, Justin's POV

WC: 1950

Main Masterlist

｡･::･ﾟ★,｡･::･ﾟ☆

It’s 7 PM on Friday, it’s 95°, and my husband and I are stuck trying to discipline a 7-year-old boy and a 3-year-old because they won’t stop trying to kill each other.

Alright, we love our boys more than anything, but when Zion came home from school with a prize he won from participating in class (which we are very proud of him for), Deion, his little brother, lost it. 

Justin is currently trying to help Zion understand that his brother is young and still learning about sharing and not touching other people’s stuff. 

While I am trying to soothe Deion as he continues to have a 20-minute temper tantrum, at this point, I’m just waiting for him to pass out because this little boy will not listen. 

So here I am, sitting on the living room floor, as my toddler bangs his fists and kicks his feet. Thankfully, the waterworks have dried up, and he’s finally settling down. But the little guy is really putting up a fight with the Sandman.

Meanwhile…

“Dad, you don’t understand. I won this fair and square. If I let Deion play with it, he’ll break it.” Zion says, holding his toy to his chest. 

“I know, son.” Justin sits on the bed with the boy and wraps his arm around his shoulder. “Your brother’s got a lot of learning to do, but I’m proud of you for standing up for yourself. Deion just doesn’t understand how much it means to you.”

Zion leans into his father’s embrace. “Why not? I told him I won the class spelling bee.”

Justin smiles and rubs the young boy’s arm. “He’s just a little guy right now. Deion hasn't learned the importance of hard work yet. He’ll get there soon, but until then, how about you keep your prizes in your bag until you get home? Then you can play with your toy all you want when your brother isn’t looking. How’s that sound?” Zion looks up at his dad and smiles back at him with his matching grin.

“I can do that, daddy.” 

“Alright, buddy, how about you tell me all about this spelling bee?” Justin asks, making the kid’s face bean with excitement.

“Okay! So it was me, and Liza, and Dia…

As Zion tells his dad about his exciting victory, I’m finally able to breathe a sigh of relief, thanks to our 3-year-old, who is now passed out on the couch. 

I softly chuckle as baby snores come from Deion’s pout. Then, get off the floor and scoop him up, taking him to his dinosaur-themed room and tucking him in. 

“My poor baby.” I frown at his sweet brown, tear-streaked cheeks. Both boys look just like their father, from their deep, sunken eyes to the undertone of their skin.

The truth is, you wouldn’t be able to tell I was their momma, but I have the stretch marks and wide hips to prove it.

As I walk out of Deion’s room, Justin closes Zion’s door and winks at me. “Is he asleep, too?”

“Yeah, don’t worry, he’s not upset anymore. Daddy got it all under control.” He smiles, showcasing his pearly white teeth. 

I raise my brows in amusement. “Oh really, Daddy handled it without any tears?” We close the space between us, his hands finding their home around my hips just above the swell of my ass.

“Mhmm, you know me. Never gotta worry about me with my boys.” 

I hum softly, wrapping my arms around his neck. “Well, since the boys are down. Looks like we finally have some time to ourselves.” I say casually but inciting a glimmer in his eyes. “We should have a closet date…”

He narrows his gaze, but his smirk remains. “A closet date? What’s that love?”

“You’ll just have to follow me and find out.” My hands briefly run down his chest, and then I take his hand, leading him to our walk-in closet.

“Baby, I hope this isn’t you getting me to help you rearrange your shoes. I told you just to hire a taskmaster for that.” I can hear the eye roll through the playfulness of his tender voice. I shake my head and continue to walk through our bedroom and into the closet, closing the door behind him. “Alright, we’re here. Will you tell me what this is now, baby?”

I hide my smirk with the mask of confusion. “Hmmm… well, I saw this idea in a video somewhere. I think it starts off like this…” I slowly backed him up to an empty wall. “And something like this…” I raise one hand to his neck, and the other rests on his chest.

The glimmer in his eyes returns as his hands return to my hips and then follow the curve of my rear. “Oh… I see now. Let me help you some, mamas.” His grip tightens on me, both hands grabbing my cheeks and pulling flushed against his fit body.

“Am I going in the right direction?” He asks huskily against my ear, lightly tugging at the lobe with his lips, successfully sending a wave of heat down my spine.

“Mhmm, you catch on fast,” I whisper as his lips move down my neck, quickly latching onto my pulse point, making my breath hitch. “Ohhhh… Baby…” 

My moans flow to his ears like sweet melodies as he nips and sucks at my sensitive skin before pulling up and capturing my lips with his in a slow passionate manner.

“I love your voice, mamas. Make some more of those beautiful noises for me.” He mumbles against my lips while sinking his hand down the fabric of my lounge pants and feeling the bare skin all the way down to my damp folds. “Mamas, fuck,” he growls, barely dipping his long fingers in and spreading my wetness up to my clit.

“Jus-Justin…” He swallows my moans and gently circles my sensitive button until my core is clenching around nothing.

“You had my pussy out all day while I was up in that office buried in film? I could’ve had you bent over my desk, worshipping my woman’s beautiful body all day?” He groans and traces the outline of my pussy.

“Jus- Daddy, please…” I whine into his muscular chest.

“You think after thinking about you and this wet ass pussy all day, I’m gonna let you off easy?” He chuckles and pulls his fingers away.

“No, daddy, please. I had to take care of the boys and…

“Shhh shhh, calm down mamas. I’m just playin’. You really thought I was gonna hold out? Nah nah nah, I need you just as bad as you need me.” He pecks my lips, then pulls the string, holding my pants up. I shiver, feeling the draft on my pulsing cunt.

Justin takes his time undoing his belt and dropping his jeans. “You know, I was thinking… It’d be nice to have a little sweetpea like her momma running around here.” He whispers as he pulls his thick length from his boxers.

“Ohhh, I need that…” 

His smirk grows widely on his lips. “What a little princess or…” He hooks my leg over his waist and rubs his dick on my heat.

“Both!” My hips move against his on their own accord. 

A deep chuckle fills my ears. “You gonna let me fill you up with another baby, mamas? Give us the missing piece from our family. You gonna make me a daddy to a little princess, mamas? My beautiful Queen, my wife, the love of my life…”

I nod my head avidly. “Yes, Justin. I want you to fill me up, pump me full of your cum. I wa- need it, I wanna have your baby so bad.”

“I’ll give it to you, baby. What my queen wants, she gets. I’ll give you anything and everything. I’m gonna need to hold on and breathe, baby. Okay?” He lifts my head for confirmation.

“Yes, daddy.” 

He dips his head to place a sweet, loving kiss on my lips. “Good girl.” His grip on my leg tightens as his free hand lines his dick up to my core. “Breathe baby…” 

I lay my head on his chest to match his steady breaths while he slowly sheathes himself inside me. “There you go, good girl.” His voice’s gritty as he holds back, letting my pussy stretch nicely around his thickness.

“Oh-hhh.” My short, oval nails dig into his shoulders as he sinks in, inch by breathtaking inch. 

“Baby… Talk to me, mamas.” He groans, withdrawing everything but the tip. “How you doin’?”

I smile against his chest. He’s also so attentive during sex, no matter where, how, or when he’s taking me. Making sure he doesn’t hurt me more than it should at first, always prioritizing my pleasure over his. 

“Justin…”

“Yes, mama, what is it?” He answers softly.

I look up into his dark chocolate eyes. “I need you… to fuck me…”

“You sure, baby, we can go as slow as you want?” His big, warm hand cups my cheek, his thumb gliding over my cheekbone.

“Daddy, I need it.” I voice innocently while giving him dark ‘fuck me’ eyes. He bites his lip and flips us so my back is against the wall.

“Fuck, those beautiful brown eyes, you know exactly what you’re doing, huh?” He smirks, kisses my temple, and then wraps my other leg around his waist. “I can’t wait to see you glowing and growing my baby again.”

For a moment, my heart bursts with joy. A bubbly smile paints my face as my mind fills with ideas and images of what my husband would look like as a girl dad. 

Then he dips his lips to my ear, and he growls, “Take this dick mamas.” His thick, veiny dick drags me from those thoughts as it fills my pussy deliciously, drawing out muted screams and deep breaths. 

“Goddamn, you feel good, always so tight. Like you were made for me.” He moans, thrusting hungrily in and out of my slick warmth. 

His tip hits that spongy spot with one long drag, making my back arch. “Fuck! Daddy!” 

“Mamas, you’re killing me here. We can’t wake up the boys.” He groans breathlessly but continues to bully my g spot with his fat tip. My dull nails drag up and down his back, whimpers and sharp moans leaving my lips. 

“Mamas…” He starts, then fixes the problem with his mouth instead, blurring my moans with his lips. 

Our sounds of pleasure mix together while the slapping of his skin on mine prevails.

You can’t fix every problem.

✧･ﾟ: *

“So, why closet sex when I could’ve just made love to you in this big-ass comfy bed? You hit your head on the wall like three times.” Justin mumbles against my chest as we lay under the covers, legs wrapped together, happily spent.

“I told you, I saw it in a video.” I shrugged, tracing the patterns in his cornrows.

“Why did they do it in the closet in the video then?” He looks up at me.

I bite my lip and chuckle hesitantly. “Their kids were watching TV in their living room.”

He snorts, shaking his head. “You just wanted me to fuck you in that closet, huh?” He climbs up and kisses my lips, softly biting my lower lip.

“Guilty.” I moan, rolling us over and putting my hands on either side of his head, smirking. “Now, wanna see if we can fit in round two before the boys wake up?”

“My girl… I love the way you think.” He smiles, pulling my head back to his lips.

And it all started because of a toy dinosaur.

[blakeswritingimagines]

Sitting Down on Their Lap

Ragnar: First he would be a bit cautious trying to work out why you chose that particular time to do that. He might get you to explain yourself and give you some playful jibes about it but would most likely play along and snuggle against you making sure to tickle you a few times, it's his duty after all.

Athelstan: His eyes widen in shock as you gracefully plop down onto his lap. He can feel his jaw drop at the unexpected weight and warmth, and his heart begins to skip beats. His whole body feels flushed and his palms begin to sweat. "Wh…what are you doing?" He'll question you but will let you stay.

Floki: He would be taken by surprise but ultimately amused by this unexpected development, as it is clear that you are just being playful. He responds by wrapping his arms around you, his fingers dancing up and down your sides as he pulls you tighter into his lap. He'll ask playfully, "Well, what have we here?"

Lagertha: She loves it when you randomly sit on her lap. It's unexpected and intimate and shows a level of comfort and trust between you both. It reminds her of how much you just want to be close to her, even if you have no idea how it affects her. It's a simple, but powerful gesture that shows your warmth, and your connection.

Aslaug: She'd be a bit surprised at first, but then she'd wrap her arms around you and give you a kiss, pulling you close to her so you're close as close could be.

Bjorn: Bjorn's heartbeat speeds up, and he glances down at you to see what you are doing. The sudden invasion of space is unexpected, but the contact sends a jolt through Bjorn as he feels your warmth. He puts his arms around you, pulling you closer, leaning his head down until his face is close to yours to kiss you.

Ubbe: He wraps his arms tight around you without a second thought, pressing you into the warmth of his chest. His hands find the curve of your hips as he pulls you even closer. Your weight is comforting and familiar like you belong there. He'll caress your soft hair, running his fingers up and down your neck.

Hvitserk: Well, he’d first laugh. Your sudden weight would catch him off guard, and the fact that you would be so silly as to plop down on his lap would be quite comical to him. He’d take that as a chance to squeeze you as tightly as he could, pulling you close and wrapping his arms around you.

Sigurd: Initially surprised, but then immediately pleased. He would wrap his arms around your hips and pull you closer to him. After a moment he would gently push you to your feet and stand up, then gesture for you to sit on the couch next to him. Sitting closely together, he would wrap an arm around you and squeeze your body against his.

Ivar: A slight smirk crosses Ivar’s lips as you plop down in his lap. He wraps his right arm around you, pulling you in a bit closer, while his other hand moves down to caress you. He leans forward, his lips close to your ear, and he whispers, “I don’t mind one bit.”

Halfdan: He'd be startled and maybe a little bit annoyed at first, but he'd also find it endearing. You would likely be seeking out an affectionate reaction from him, so he'd give you what you were looking for. He'd wrap his arms around you and kiss your head.

Harald: He would wrap his arms around your waist, resting his chin on the top of your head as you sit in his lap. He would smile down at you, amused by how unpredictable you can be sometimes. He would kiss your forehead and pull you closer to him, savoring the moment.

[thegirlintheblackdress]

Taake (Hoest)

cr: Forever Misanthropia on facebook

[michi-beans]

Idea started as horny but my brand is skipping to the silly wholesome shit. Anyways, Viking!AU✨.

ko-fi | Patreon

Au notes below 👇

[mimi-0007]

Prayers for randy moss.

[viking-raider]

Moon Crazed *Mature*

Summary: Henry seems especially crazed on his birthday, and you don't understand why, until you check the calendar again.

Pairing: Henry Cavill/Reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Warning: M - Fluff, Angst, Banter, Pet Names, Language, Gray Hair Appreciation, Cuddles, Supportive Spouse SMUT - Birthday Sex, Oral (F receiving), Fingering (F Receiving), Unprotected Sex (Wrap it!), Possible Voyeurism, Sneak Attacks, Doggy Style, Hickeys, Dirty Talk, Rough Sex, Super light Anal, Rutting, Hinted Breeding Kink, Light Spanking, Body Fluids, Biting

Inspiration: Henry's 40th Birthday being on a literal Full Moon!

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! @VIKING-RAIDER-LIBRARY

You hummed softly, standing at the refrigerator as you filled your water bottle with ice from the dispenser. Unaware of the predator stalking up behind you. Until strong hands grabbed a hold of your hips, causing you to let out a startled scream and drop your bottle, the ice chips rattling in the black plastic as it struck the hardwood floor.

“Henry!” You yelped as he spun you around to face him, but smiled, nonetheless. “What are-” You started, but he captured your lips in a hungry, heated kiss, that had you breathless before you could finish your question.

There were black spots in your eyes, when the kiss finally broke and you were dizzy, only vaguely aware of a coolness from your waist down, then Henry's hands were back on your hips and he was lifting you onto the island in the middle of the kitchen. You hissed, feeling the cold butcher block on your bare skin, Henry having stripped you of your pants and underwear.

“Whoa, Cavill!” You huffed, pressing your knees together and planting your palms to his collarbone. “The fuck has you so crazed?” You asked, seeing how bright, clear and wild his blue eyes were, his pupils blown out from his mounting arousal.

“This.” He purred, his voice rumbling, as his fingers swiped at your exposed folds.

“Oh, holy Jesus!” You gasped, off guard, wiggling on the counter. “Right, Okay.” You panted, softly. “Birthday boy is in a mood.”

“Birthday boy is hungry.” He growled, dropping to his knees and yanking you to the edge of the island, your legs draped over his broad shoulders, while his mouth showed no mercy at attacking your womanhood.

Your hands flew to his head, fingers tangling in his curls. “What is it? A full moon!” You cried out, eyes crossing and rolling back, feeling Henry's tongue swirl against your swelling clit. “Hen-Ry.” You moaned, hands slipping from his hair as you fell back across the counter, the muscles of your thighs twitching under his onslaught.

“Such nice red velvet.” He cooed, his breath hot against your wet folds, as he licked your icing off his lips.

“You're crazy.” You wheezed back, your head lulling side to side, while you gazed up at the vaulted ceiling.

Smirking, Henry pressed his lips to your humming pearl, drawing a breathy moan from deep in your throat, with the gentle suckles that only grew with intensity. His tongue flicking out to tease, torture and collect your sweet nectar, but never yet permitting the mounting rapture that balanced on a knife's edge. You tried rolling your hips against his mouth, antsy to feel that sweet relief at the mercy of his skilled mouth. But Henry's hands gripped them, pinning you to the counter with a near bruising strength.

“It's my birthday.” Henry huffed between your thighs, glaring up the length of your heaving body, feeling the throb of his clothed girth at the sight of the mounds of your breasts, nipples hard through the fabric of your shirt. “Behave.” He growled, slipping a hand into your shirt to pinch and tease one of your peaks, while his mouth left a dark purple mark on the inside of your trembling thigh.

You shivered at the contact, whimpering, but laid as still as you could. Henry chuckled, loving the madness he was driving you into. He laid an open mouth kiss to your pearl and took a deep breath, filling his senses with your heady scent, that only seemed to drag him deeper into his own psychosis. You hiccuped at the feel of his teeth nipping at your dripping petals, lifting your head and letting out a shocked huff at Henry, whose eyes only regarded you mischievously, not willing to stop and lift his head.

His tongue finally split you open, licking and snaking down your tunnel, chuckling at the hums and pants you were making at the attention. He removed his hand from your hip, his thumb easily finding your clit and applied just the right amount of pressure as his tongue found your spot.

Starting to hiccup, with surprise at the rushing of the orgasm that hit you, your back curving off the counter, before it caught in your throat, face twisting in ecstasy. “Henry!” You cried out, breaking through the surprise, “Oh god, Hen!” You mewled, falling limp as it wore off.

Henry stood up, a heavenly and satisfied look on his face. “Mmm.” He moaned, smirking at you. “You taste so damn good, baby girl.” He chuckled, wiping at the droplets on his lips and chin, before tugging down his sweatpants.

“Shit!” You cried out, nails clawing at the butcher block underneath you as Henry eased his weeping cock into you. “Warn a girl!” You barked, hooking your shaking legs around his thighs.

“That was your warning, babe.” Henry laughed, gripping one of your hips and planting his other hand on the counter, as leverage.

You looked up at Henry and saw a familiar glint in his blue eyes, but it seemed a bit more than usual. “Christ alive.” You sighed, gripping the wrist he had at your hip.

“You're all strapped in, honey?” He chuckled, rubbing your hip with his thumb.

“I know you, Cavill!” You answered, clenching around him.

Moaning, Henry bit his bottom lip and pushed his hips forward into you with as much strength as he could, rocking you further up the counter. With his pace set, Henry didn't relent, not even when your nails broke the skin of his wrist.

“Filling you up never gets old, babe.” Henry panted, recovering from his climax. “Unlike somethings.”

“The hell does that mean?” You wheezed, gulping thickly.

“Nothing.” He sighed, pulling you up and kissing you sweetly on the lips. “Just rambling. Come take a shower with me?” He asked, smiling at you.

“Of course.” You nodded, sliding off the island and following upstairs to the master bathroom.

Later that afternoon, you stood in the laundry room tossing things from a hamper into the washing machine, when you looked up and saw Henry's reflection in the window that was behind the machine.

“Hey there, handsome.” You cooed at him, leaning into the hamper to grab the last handful of dirty clothes. “Did you have a good workout?” You asked, tossing them in and closing the lid.

“Mmhm.” He replied, resting his shoulder against the door frame to watch you.

“Good.” You smiled, pushing up on your toes to reach the controls and started the machine, just as Henry pushed off the door towards you, trapping you against the vibrating appliance. “What—Oh, this again?” You purred, feeling his hand slip around you and into the band of your leggings and panties. “You are in a randy mood today, Puppy.” You said, in a sultry voice.

“Just today?” He husked back, gently rubbing your still, slightly, sore delicates.

You chuckled softly, unsure how to answer that or if it was rhetorical. “You always make me feel good, Henry.” You moaned, letting your head fall back against his shoulder. “Above other things.” You smirked, kissing the underside of his jaw.

“Mmm.” Henry moaned back at you, working his fingers a little more vigorously against your privates. “What other things?” He asked, pushing your shirt up and cupping one of your breasts in his paw.

“I think you're currently do-doing a goo-good job.” You gulped, pressing your back harder against his chiseled chest.

“Oh yeah?” He smirked, pressing his lips to the top of your head, as a finger crooked into your entrance, teasing. “You like when I finger you?”

“Like is an inadequate word.” You whimpered, toes curling against the tiles of the laundry room floor. “Love it. Get off on the mere thought of. Have a yearning for most hours of the day.” You confessed, bracing a hand on the edge of the washer to help keep yourself up.

Henry smiled into your hair and allowed you to give in, feeling your wet warmth wash over his hand. “I love pleasuring you, more than almost everything else.” He cooed, turning you around to cup your face in his sticky hand, kissing you deeply.

“More laundry.” You giggled, after breaking the kiss, taking off your leggings and soiled panties, opening the washer machine to toss them in, yelping as Henry's hand connected to your bum.

“If I had it my way, you'd only be naked at home.” He grinned, biting the corner of his lip at the mere thought of getting to see your naked body at all hours in the privacy of your home.

“Oh, of that I am sure, my love.” You snorted, nodding your head. “And the feeling is mutual.” You added, tugging on the front of his shirt.

“I can fix that.” Henry laughed, blue eyes glittering.

Laying on your bed, arms folded beneath you, exhausted from the events of the day, you were again unaware of Henry coming for you, until you heard the floor creak.

“Christ alive!” You spooked, looking at him, before busting out into a smile, finding he was stark naked. “What has gotten into you, Henry?” You asked, rolling onto your back to look at him. “Twice already today we've had shenanigans throughout the house.” You said, running your eyes along his godly body. “Not counting our regular morning meeting.”

“Is it so hard to believe I can't get enough of you.” Henry asked, cocking a brow in your direction.

“No, not in the slightest, husband.” You purred at him, feeling his waves of need coming off of him, even from the gap between you. “It's just strange. You haven't been this needy in quite a while.”

“I've been on a mission to correct that.” He confessed, closing that gap. “Get undressed.” He ordered you, standing at the edge of the bed.

Smirking at him, you pulled your shirt off over your head, breasts bouncing as you did, much to Henry's delight and increased arousal. But when it came to your shorts, thumbs hooking in the waistband of them and your panties, you pushed them down painfully slow, your eyes dead on Henry's. You watched his throat bob and his fingers flex, as he pulled out every ounce of willpower not to launch forwards and rip the article of clothing off of you, himself.

His willpower finally broke and he snatched your pants off the rest of the way, tossing them carelessly aside, then climbing into bed with you, rolling you back onto your belly.

“Oh, we're just being a ball of fun today!” You giggled, as he used his knees to push your legs apart, one thick arm wrapping around your waist and hoisted your hips and bum up, while rutting his hard cock against the valley of your cheeks, grunting in your ear.

“I'll show you fun.” He growled, biting the side of your neck, while grasping himself at the base.

You let out a breath, feeling his tip run down between your cheeks, making the space slick with glossy droplets. He paused to tease your special hole, causing you to gasp and clench in surprise, a rumble of a chuckle bubbling out of Henry as he carried on, rubbing your pleasantly weeping entrance.

“Do you like it when I play with you?” He rasped, pressing his forehead against your temple, his eyes dark, like a storm over an ocean. “When I fill you up.”

“Hm.” You hummed, pushing back against him, eager and impatient to feel him fill you again. “I love it.” You whispered, breathily. “It makes me feel good, Henry.”

Smirking, Henry slowly eased himself inside of you, wanting to feel every little bit as he did. A shiver ran down both your backs as the last inch of his manhood came to rest in your sensitive canal, flexing and molding around him. With quick snaps of his hips, Henry drove himself into you without giving away any ground.

You moaned, hands twisting up in the duvet beneath you as Henry rocked harder into you. Arching your back more, adjusting him and causing you to let out a sweet, almost deafening, cry. Henry grasped the underside of your jaw, pulling your head back to rest on his shoulder and closing his mouth against your throat, timing his sucks and bites with his thrusts.

Leaving behind yet another mark of his passion for you.

“Henry, please.” You moaned, brows creasing. “Touch me.” You gulped, licking your lips.

He moaned against your neck, removing his hand from your face to slip it beneath you, finding your swollen bud, drenched in your combined fluids. Henry was torturous at rubbing clit, but did nothing to rush the pace of his hips. You whined, kicking your feet a little bit and shifting your knees to try and get more leverage, but Henry used his own body to keep you in place.

“You devil.” You sighed at him, yanking your neck away from his mouth.

“Mmhm.” Henry hummed back, not missing a beat, but smirked at you devilishly, before pulling away from you, standing up on his knees to watch himself slide in and out of you. “What a beautiful sight this is.” He purred, rubbing his palm up and down your glistening back, squeezing your neck for a moment.

“Pity you can't see it yourself.”

“Feels amazing as is, big boy.” You answered, propping yourself up on your elbows.

Henry popped you on the ass, applying more pressure to your clit and increased his thrusts, rocking the headboard against the wall. You gripped the duvet for leverage and rocked in tune with him, feeling the hot build of your climax, soft whimpers leaving your parted lips and tears blurring your vision as it finally boiled over, surging around Henry's shaft, the hot pulse intensifying as his own orgasm mounted.

“Henry!” You cried, the sensation of him pumping searing ribbons of his seed into you just as maddening compared to your own.

Pulling out of you, Henry dropped to his side beside you, flushed, sweaty and panting. You rolled onto your side, unfazed by the massive wet spot on the blanket the two of you made, and looked at your husband, smirking. Reaching out for him and gently brushing the damp curls off his forehead, your eyes softening at the sight of the grays you saw in them. Especially at his temple. They drew a smile across your lips.

“What are you smiling about?” Henry asked lazily, cracking an eye at you.

You giggled at him, wiggling in closer. “Just noticing all the new grays you have.” You cooed, resting your head on his bicep and twisting the graying curl around the tip of your index finger, fondly, only to have Henry turn his head out of your grasp.

“Old man.” He huffed, a frustrated crease between his brows.

“Hardly!” You laughed, amused, pressing a kiss on his sternum. “Just because you turned forty today, doesn't make you an old man, Cavill.”

“I damn well feel like one.” Henry growled, fixing his blue eyes on you. “Never this winded after making love to you.”

You sucked your bottom lip in, biting down on it, as you regarded him with understanding and loving eyes. “Is this what everything's been about today?” You finally asked, cupping his bearded cheek. “You sneak attacking me everywhere in the house.” You smirked, your body tingling at just recalling them, but your smile faded seeing the look in his eyes and face.

“Do you think you can't--” You struggled for a moment, a lump in your throat.

“Satisfy you.” He finished for you. “Yes. I've been worried that hitting forty meant that I would lose the ability to keep satisfying you. Seeing the gray hairs in the morning, when I get up to shower, has only increased that anxiety.” He confessed, looking away from you.

“Henry.” You mewled, heartbroken at your husband's words. “You have never lacked there, or anywhere. Today is a fine example of that.” You tried to get him to understand. “We were intimate four times throughout the day, on top of the festivities for your birthday. You have nothing to be concerned about.”

Henry looked back up at you, a look of relief in his cerulean orbs. “You don't think I look silly with them?”

You huffed and clicked your tongue at him, rolling your eyes. “Henry Cavill, I've known and seen you with a great many looks over the last eight years, because of your occupation, and I've never known you to look silly.” You told him, honestly. “Even when you thought you would with the Kingstache.” You giggled, grinning at that memory.

“Lord, that was an identity crisis.” He huffed, shaking his head.

“But,” You looked him squarely in the eyes. “You with gray hair is rather dashing, in my opinion, and I can't wait to see a few more.”

“Oh, that's how it is!” He said, wrapping his arms around you and rolling onto his back, so you straddled his waist. “You like being married to this gray fox!” He laughed, pawing at your butt.

“What is this! A full moon!” You whooped, wiggling out of his grasp to grab your phone and pulled up what phase it was. “Sure as hell!” You laughed, looking over at him. “Your birthday is a full moon!” You smirked, setting your phone back on the nightstand and crawled back into bed with him.

“So, my gray fox is Moon Crazed!”

“Crazed by something.” Henry purred, pulling you in for a kiss.

[ealdormanink]

Can I request one with Ivar? 💓

You, daughter of a great king, are married to him and the seer told you you will give him many children and Ivar tells you he wants to marry a second wife and you and him were together since you were only teens and you are not really happy about that idea that there maybe will be another woman .

I could totally understand if you dont want to write it 💓

Prophecies and Promises

Ivar the boneless x female reader!

Thank you for the request! I hope you like this oneshot. Content includes angst, drama, and themes of betrayal. Not exactly a happy ending, you've been warned!

The winter wind howled through Kattegat, carrying with it the salt of the sea and the promise of snow. From the great hall's balcony, (Y/N) watched the first light of dawn paint the fjord in shades of gray and silver. Her fingers traced the wooden railing, feeling the familiar grooves where she and Ivar had carved their initials years ago, back when they were barely more than children.

The sound of movement behind her made her turn. Ivar was there, dragging himself across the floor with the same fierce determination he showed in everything he did. Even now, after all these years, her heart still skipped a beat at the sight of him.

"You're up early," he said, pulling himself onto the bench near the wall. His blue eyes, sharp as always, studied her face.

"I couldn't sleep." (Y/N) pulled her furs tighter around her shoulders. "The gods were restless in my dreams."

Ivar's expression shifted, almost imperceptibly. There was something in his eyes she hadn't seen before – a mixture of guilt and resolution that made her stomach tighten with unease.

"We need to talk," he said, patting the space beside him on the bench.

Those words, spoken so softly, carried the weight of an ax falling. (Y/N) knew, with the same certainty that guided ravens to battlefields, that whatever came next would change everything.

The silence stretched between them like a bowstring pulled taut. (Y/N) remained standing, her knuckles white against the dark fur of her cloak.

"The Jarl Eriksson will arrive tomorrow," Ivar said, his voice steady. "With his daughter, Sigrid."

"The shield-maiden?" The words felt like ice on (Y/N)'s tongue. Tales of Sigrid Eriksdottir's prowess in battle had reached even Kattegat's shores. Young, fierce, and above all, from a powerful family whose alliance could strengthen their hold on the northern territories.

"Yes." Ivar's fingers drummed against his leg brace. "I intend to make her my second wife."

The world didn't stop. The waves below continued their endless dance against the shore, and somewhere in the distance, a gull cried out. Yet (Y/N) felt as if she'd been plunged into the deepest part of the fjord, the cold seeping into her bones.

"I see." Her voice sounded foreign to her own ears. "And when did you decide this?"

"It's not about decisions, it's about necessity." Ivar moved forward, his arms tensing as he shifted his weight. "We need the alliance with Jarl Eriksson. His ships, his men—"

"Don't." (Y/N) turned to face him fully, her father's royal blood burning in her veins. "Don't pretend this is just about alliances. How many years have we been married, Ivar? How many winters have I shared your bed?"

"Seven winters." His jaw clenched. "Seven winters without an heir."

The truth of it struck harder than any physical blow. (Y/N) remembered the Seer's words, spoken in the darkness of his dwelling: 'Your womb will give Ivar the Boneless more sons than any king before him.' She had clung to that prophecy through every moon that passed without a child quickening in her belly.

"You don't believe in the Seer's words anymore," she said. It wasn't a question.

"I believe in what I can see." Ivar's voice hardened. "I believe in securing my legacy, in strengthening Kattegat. You're a king's daughter, (Y/N). You understand the weight of duty."

"Duty?" She laughed, but there was no warmth in it. "Was it duty when you taught me to throw an ax? When we would sneak away from the great hall to watch the stars? When you promised me I would be the only queen you'd ever need?"

Ivar's expression flickered, a shadow of the boy he'd been passing across his face. "We were children then."

"We were in love then," (Y/N) corrected. She moved away from the balcony, her steps measured and precise. "Perhaps you're right. Perhaps we were children. But I remember every promise you made, Ivar Ragnarsson, and so do the gods."

She paused at the doorway, her hand resting on the carved wooden frame. "I hope Sigrid Eriksdottir brings you everything you wish for."

The great hall was beginning to stir as she walked through it, servants preparing for the day ahead. None dared meet her eye. News traveled fast in Kattegat, and already they must know what was coming. The proud princess who had failed to give their king an heir would soon share her crown with another.

The arrival of Jarl Eriksson's longships painted a bold stripe of red and black across the harbor. (Y/N) watched from the steps of the great hall as Sigrid Eriksdottir strode onto Kattegat's docks, her golden hair braided with leather and bones, shield strapped to her back. Every inch a shield-maiden, every step that of a future queen.

The crowd parted for her like waves before a ship's prow. (Y/N) felt the weight of every gaze shifting between them – the two queens, present and future, as different as fire and ice. Where Sigrid wore leather and steel, (Y/N)'s dress spoke of her royal upbringing, its deep blue fabric threaded with silver like the night sky.

"Welcome to Kattegat." (Y/N)'s voice carried across the courtyard, steady despite the storm in her heart. This was the game of queens, and she had learned it at her father's knee long before she'd learned to love Ivar.

Sigrid's bow was perfectly measured – respect for a queen, but not submission. "You honor us with your welcome, Queen (Y/N)." Her Norse was clear and sharp, like the ax at her hip. "The tales of Kattegat's beauty do not do it justice."

Behind her, Ivar watched them both, his eyes calculating. He had always loved games of power, but this was no game on a hnefatafl board. These were real pieces, real lives, real hearts being moved across the board.

The feast that night was a blur of mead and music. (Y/N) sat in her place of honor, watching as Sigrid captivated the hall with tales of her raids along the Saxon coast. The warrior-woman's laugh rang true and deep, and more than once, (Y/N) caught Ivar's gaze lingering on her.

It wasn't until the moon had risen high that the first wave of nausea hit her. (Y/N) gripped the edge of the table, her knuckles white against the wood. The smell of roasted meat, usually so appealing, suddenly turned her stomach.

"My queen?" Her handmaiden, Astrid, leaned close. "Are you unwell?"

"I need air," (Y/N) whispered, rising from her seat. Few noticed her departure – all eyes were on Sigrid, who was now demonstrating sword techniques with one of Ivar's warriors.

In the quiet of her private chambers, (Y/N) pressed her forehead against the cool stone wall. This wasn't the first time she'd felt ill this week. Or the week before. But she'd been too consumed by Ivar's announcement to notice the pattern.

"My queen." Astrid's voice was soft behind her. "When was your last bleeding?"

The question hung in the air like smoke. (Y/N) closed her eyes, counting back the moons. Her hand drifted to her stomach, and for the first time, she felt it – the slight firmness that hadn't been there before.

A laugh bubbled up from her throat, bitter and sweet all at once. The gods had a cruel sense of humor. After seven years of waiting, of hoping, of praying – now, when Ivar had already decided to take another wife, the Seer's prophecy chose to fulfill itself.

"Tell no one," she commanded Astrid, turning to face her oldest friend and servant. "Not a soul."

Astrid nodded, understanding darkening her eyes. "What will you do?"

(Y/N) looked out the window, toward the distant mountains where the eagles soared free. "What any mother would do to protect her child." Her hand remained on her stomach, where Ivar's heir grew stronger with each passing day. "I will ensure no one can ever use this child as a pawn in their games."

The next fortnight passed in a blur of preparations. Sigrid's presence in Kattegat grew stronger with each passing day, her influence spreading like roots through fertile soil. The warriors admired her strength, the common folk her easy manner, and Ivar... Ivar's eyes followed her with an intensity that cut deeper than any blade.

(Y/N) watched it all from behind a carefully crafted mask, one hand often resting unconsciously on her still-flat stomach. The morning sickness she hid behind closed doors, the fatigue she blamed on poor sleep. Only Astrid knew the truth, helping her conceal the signs that would soon become impossible to hide.

The night of the betrothal feast arrived with the first real snow of winter. The great hall blazed with firelight, the air thick with the smell of roasted meat and sweet mead. (Y/N) sat in her place of honor, watching as Ivar announced his intention to take Sigrid as his second wife. The hall erupted in cheers, horns raised in celebration.

"A toast!" Sigrid's father boomed, his voice carrying over the crowd. "To the alliance of our houses, to strong sons and victories to come!"

The words struck (Y/N) like a physical blow. Her hand tightened around her untouched horn of mead, watching as Ivar raised his own cup. Their eyes met across the hall, and for a moment, she saw something flicker in his gaze – regret, perhaps, or memory. But then Sigrid leaned close to whisper something in his ear, and the moment shattered like ice in spring.

"It's time," (Y/N) whispered to Astrid, who stood faithfully behind her chair. The preparations were complete, set in motion days ago with the quiet efficiency that had made (Y/N) such an effective queen.

Two trusted guards – men who had served her father and come with her to Kattegat – waited by the stables. A small boat was ready at a secluded dock, far from the usual harbor. Everything she needed was already packed, loaded under the cover of darkness.

"Wait three days," she instructed Astrid, pressing a small wooden pendant into her hand – a token that would prove the message came from (Y/N). "Then tell him what I said. Not before."

Astrid's eyes shone with tears she dared not shed. "The gods go with you, my queen."

(Y/N) stood, her movements unhurried and dignified. No one paid much attention as she left the feast – it was common for the first wife to retire early when celebrations involved the second. Outside, the snow fell thick and silent, covering her tracks almost as soon as they were made.

At the stables, she mounted her horse with practiced ease, adjusting her heavy cloak around her. The child within her was still too small to hinder her movements, but she could feel its presence like a warm flame in her belly, a secret strength.

"We ride for the eastern path," she told her guards. "Through the merchant routes, where the traders won't question another group of travelers."

As they rode away from Kattegat, (Y/N) didn't look back. The city that had been her home for seven years disappeared into the snowy darkness behind her. She thought of Ivar, still celebrating in the great hall, unaware that his firstborn child was already slipping beyond his reach.

Three days would pass before Astrid would deliver her message. Three days before Ivar would understand what he had lost. By then, (Y/N) would be far beyond his reach, carrying with her the heir he so desperately wanted – the first of the many children the Seer had promised, though not in the way anyone had expected.

Three days later, the great hall of Kattegat stood silent in the gray light of dawn. Ivar sat upon his throne, fingers drumming against the carved armrest, his mood as dark as the circles under his eyes. The celebrations had ended, but something else had ended too – something he couldn't quite name until Astrid stepped forward, clutching a wooden pendant he recognized immediately.

"Speak," he commanded, his voice hoarse. Three days since anyone had seen (Y/N), three days of searching, of questions met with silence.

Astrid's chin lifted, her voice clear despite her fear. "The queen bade me tell you this: The gods have already chosen the mother of your children long ago. The Seer did not lie."

The words hung in the air like smoke. Ivar's face remained still, but his knuckles whitened against the throne's wood. One heartbeat. Two. Then understanding crashed over him like a wave, and his roar of rage echoed through the hall. The drinking horn in his hand flew across the room, shattering against the wall.

"When?" he demanded, dragging himself from his throne with dangerous speed. "When did she know?"

Astrid stepped back, but held her ground. "I cannot say, my king."

"Cannot or will not?" His eyes blazed with a fury that had made warriors tremble.

"She carries your firstborn," Astrid said softly, delivering the final blow. "The child the Seer promised. The first of many."

Ivar's laugh was hollow, breaking like ice in spring. Of course. Of course the gods would play such a cruel joke. All his plans, his calculations, his political maneuverings – undone by the very thing he'd wanted most.

"Find her," he ordered the guards. "Search every path, every village, every—"

"She's beyond your reach now," Astrid interrupted, earning gasps from those present. "Three days' journey ahead, on routes you don't know, toward a kingdom that will protect its princess."

Ivar's hand shot out, grabbing Astrid's arm. "You helped her."

"I served my queen," she replied, unflinching. "As I swore to do."

Miles away, (Y/N) stood at the bow of a merchant ship, the wind pulling at her hair as they sailed east. Her hand rested on her stomach, where the heir to Kattegat grew stronger each day. The Seer's prophecy would come true, but not in Kattegat's halls. Her children – Ivar's children – would be born free from the politics of second wives and power plays, raised in her father's kingdom, where no one could use them as pawns in a game of thrones.

Behind her, Kattegat disappeared into the horizon, taking with it seven years of love, of promises, of a future that could have been. Ahead lay the unknown, but (Y/N) stood straight and proud, every inch her father's daughter. She was more than Ivar's wife now – she was a mother protecting her child, and in that role, she was as fierce as any shield-maiden.

The wind carried the sound of seabirds and the salt spray of the sea, but not the echo of Ivar's rage as it shook Kattegat's walls. Not the sound of his fist against wood as he realized what his ambition had cost him. Not the bitter truth that his firstborn child – the heir he had so desperately wanted – would grow up never knowing their father's name.

In the end, the gods had given him exactly what he asked for, but taken away everything he truly had.

[pinkiexneomorph277]

Possible new Submas Au

A Submas x Httyd Crossover Au

This idea came to me when i admittedly put too much rum in my drink 😆 and been awhile since i drank sooo.

Anyways i started coming up with ideas and so far this is the start, the idea is all non Dragon type Pokemon are now Dragons, They of course be whole new species of dragons, some might have similarities to a few known dragons or not.

Currently known Dragon Pokemon will mostly stay unchanged just with a few added details to help them fit in.

I drew Chandilure first as a Dragon as to test myself in turning a haunted object into such, i did my best to keep her round features, while this is a side view when looking at her from the front will show she is quite round chested. Along with her head shape.

Of course i can’t draw Chandilure without Ingo! and made a firsts concept design for him, mainly testing how his face and a viking like cloak/coat to use on him.

It’s all work in progress that probs become my main focus for awhile and make a new blog on, though it be slow going as i’m working on Emmet and his Eelektross dragon.

[whitewomendreams]

[helluvatimes]

The Vikings Are Here!

Euphorbia pulcherrima ‘Vikings Cinnamon’ making a comeback in the Flower Dome this Christmas. Photo credit: Jonathan Chua.

This was originally captured in black and white. When opening the image in the raw converter in some cases, it would default to monochrome, presenting seemingly a black and white raw file.

However, unless it’s produced by a sensor without a Colour Filter Array, the captured raw file would really be in colour. To restore the colour version, under ‘profile’ in the raw converter, select ‘colour’ and it would revert to a colour image.

The following image was produced with the ‘profile’ in the default ‘monochrome’. I thought it didn’t look that great, and thus out came the colour version.

Euphorbia pulcherrima ‘Vikings Cinnamon’ in black and white.

[blakeswritingimagines]

How They View You

Ragnar: He views you as his equal, someone with whom he can find solace and comfort in. Someone who stands by his side in difficult times, he values loyalty and honesty above all in a partner, and he cherishes the moments you spend together. He needs someone who understands his duties and responsibilities and is willing to support him through every step of the way. But most importantly, he wants someone who he can love wholeheartedly.

Athelstan: He views you as an equal and a companion, someone he can trust and rely on in all things. You are his confidant, his support, and his source of comfort and strength. Together, you are an unstoppable team, capable of achieving anything you set your mind to. Your bond is strong and unbreakable, built on mutual respect and understanding. He knows he can always count on you to be by his side, and he will always strive to be the best partner he can possibly be for you.

Floki: He views you as very bold, and kind but stubborn and loyal to an admirable degree as well. You challenge him, of course, but in a way he finds endearing. A fierce and quick-witted tongue that gets you into many a predicament. A person of contradictions but one worthy of his love.

Lagertha: She views you as an equal, someone who understands and complements her strengths and weaknesses. You are an intellectual match for her and someone she can deeply trust and confide in. But above all, you are her loyal and dedicated partner who loves her for who she is, and she returns that love tenfold.

Aslaug: She sees you as a treasured companion, whose company she finds both exhilarating and comforting, a constant source of fascination and surprise. Your intelligence, wit, and grace are constantly on display but you also have the uncanny ability to see through any facade. When she's with you, she feels like she can be completely herself. You are the person she knows she can count on to always tell her the truth, no matter how hard it is to hear.

Bjorn: He sees you as... difficult. Headstrong, unyielding, and always questioning his intentions. You challenge him in ways he has never been challenged before. But there is a fire in you that he cannot ignore. Despite your differences, he is inexplicably drawn to you. You are unlike anyone he has ever met, and he can feel your presence whenever you are near. You have a strength and courage that he admires, even when it leads to your conflicts.

Ubbe: He views you as an equal, a companion. With admiration and respect, he cannot deny the natural power dynamic at play. He is a prince, after all, and it is expected that he leads. But you have a mind of your own, a fire in your eyes, and a strength that both surprises and captivates him.

Hvitserk: He sees you as brave, independent, and a bit reckless. You have a connection beyond words, you know exactly what he's thinking before he even has to speak. You are feisty with a sharp tongue but kind and compassionate at heart. He views you as a strong and beautiful individual, a true warrior in your own right.

Sigurd: He sees you as a true friend and trusted advisor, someone who is always there for him, no matter what. He trusts you completely and values your opinions and advice. You are someone he can rely on and confide in, and someone who always has his best interests at heart.

Ivar: He views you as a fierce supporter who stands beside him and brings balance to his life. That you are witty and intelligent. Someone who brings a sense of grounding and understanding, but also someone who knows how to have a playful side. A true God/Goddess from head to toe and someone who he knows he can trust with his life.

Halfdan: He sees you as his rock, his equal, and his best friend. He can trust you implicitly and he would do anything for you. Your dynamic is built on mutual respect and admiration, you uplift each other and are always there for one another in good times and bad. You are each other's biggest supporter and cheerleader. He views his partner as someone who brings out the best in himand makes him strive to be a better person.

Harald: He views you as an equal, a trusted confidant and ally. He values your opinion and takes your advice seriously. He enjoys your company, whether it be quiet moments together or thrilling adventures. He sees you not just as a romantic interest, but as a partner in life, someone who he can envision a future of ruling, fighting, and living life with. He is fiercely loyal to you, protecting you at all costs and making sure you always feel loved.

[thecutestgrotto]

Please I beg you; how to train your dragon dividers 🥺🥺

Anonnnnn I adore HTTYD 🥺 it’s been one of my top 5 favorite movies since I was a kid and I loved it so much more as a teen when I became an amputee because Hiccup, toothless and I are missing legs on the same side and it’s just 🥺🥺🥺🥺 I’m just yapping atp but thank you for the request, it’s such a great one and I hope these meet your expectations. 🩵🌸

How To Train Your Dragon