#Viking-Raider Wild Muse Idea

[viking-raider]

tell me more about your story!

Um, alright!

Henry decides to do the show because he feels his clock ticking. He's not 40 yet in the story, but close, and feels like he's not going to get his dream of a wife and kids from how his dating life has been going. So, he tries blindly marrying another celeb for a tv show, but totally legally binding, a go. What's the worst that could happen, he wonders? He ends up getting paired with a pro athlete, named Alexa Frosberg, who's doing the show for short of the same reason. She sees her brothers getting married or engaged and thinks, maybe I need to as well. She's sort of not like any girl Henry's dated before. She's got tattoos, a half-sleeve, among others, she's like half goth-half, tom-boy, but fully capable of going fully girly, when she wants, and the occasion calls for it. She has T1 diabetes, that she was diagnosed with, when she was eight, but doesn't let it stop her from her career as a pro-snowboarder and surfer.

They both hit a spark instantly, but not the kind that has them jumping bones as soon as they're at their honeymoon villa in Costa Rica. It's an ember that's very much there, it warm, and only getting warmer. Henry feels like he can really fall in love with her, and Alexa feels like she can be at ease with him around. There is a little bit of an age gap, Henry is 38 and Alexa's 29. But still highly consulting adults. My own parents had a seven-year age gap.

I haven't completely fleshed out their relationship or their coping with "We only met each other because of a show." or the "Would you have even noticed me, if it wasn't for the show?" yet. Or how either of their families will properly react to them just skipping the blind-date straight into a blind-marriage.

But hey, what's a wild idea after binging The Ultimatum with Nick and Vanessa Lachey on Netflix?

[oh-for-fic-sake]

I have a 2 hour break rn and nothing to do so I might as well spread the horny😆

🧚🏻‍♀️✨Bippity boppity bow chicka wow oww! You’ve been visited by the Shameless Hoe Fairy, and now you must share a thirsty thot about one of your favorite fictional babes. Go on and spread those shameless hoe vibes and your legs 😘❤️

Omg yes! 😈😈😈 (lowkey unsure what to write headcannon? Oneshot? Idea? So just did a little drabble of slutty dreams

Warnings: adult situations 18+, mentions of bondage, sounding, pegging, femdom, mommy!dom, swearing, consensual noncon, mommy kink,

So err 🥺👉👈 i want to top geralt

Tagging the smut babes: @infinite-shite @captainsy-cookiemonster @spazzymamahenrylover @thelastsock @iloveyouyen @littlefreya @mary-ann84 @libbymouse @wolvesandhoundshowltogether @the-soot-sprite @foodieforthoughts @inlovewithhisblueeyes @viking-raider @sif-the-tsunami @luna-aestas @blakerogue @sillyrabbit81 @nuggsmum @littlebirdofrivia @hisangelicdemon @fivequartersoftheorange @pussyverson @a-little-counter-esperanto @zealoushound @amberangel112 @starstruckkittyangel @angryschnauzer

Enjoy!

Geralt snarled to you trying to naw and snap his fanged jaw at the bindings like a wild beast. The sight made you chuckle, poor little witcher caught like a fly in your expertly spun web.

"Do you regret it now boy?" You hummed looking at the witcher spread out, a feast for the eyes, arms above his head and legs spread wide so wide his feet hung over the sides of the bed. He looked funny in a way, snapping his teeth at magical invisible bindings.

"Im not your fucking boy!" He bellowed pupils contracting dangerously as he glowered at you.

"Oh? Is that so?" You hummed stepping closer to his side locking eyes with him for a few seconds before leaning down letting you hair drape around you like a curtain of silk.

"But wasnt it you who called me mommy the other night? Begged and pleaded with me to fuck you because 'im a good boy i swear'" you mimicked him with a smirk and giggled as his cheeks reddened and he looked away embarrassed by his slip up the other night.

"F-fuck you! Witch! There was a spell o-or somthing!" He hissed still enraged but bashfull. He so desperately wanted to frighten you into backing off so he could redress and bolt, hightail it out of town and never ever seek you out again.

"Nope, no spell just good old fashioned lust my boy~" you uttered bopping him on the nose and then drew a line to just behinde on of his ears, finding the soft spot theat drew strange pleading mewls from the huge wolf like man.

He panted and hissed before letting out a shallow moan as you tickled behind the ear with your nail before pressing harder leaving a small scratch behinde. His reaction was immediate hips jolting, eyes closed as his arms tensed. The log between his thighs twitching to lift with a light bounce, jumping awake.

"Now lets play for a while hmm? Can you do that? Play nicely with your new mommy. If you do I might even milk my good little boy~" you mused out loud with a sly smile as his head snapped to you with a frown.

"M-milk?" Geralt whined before swallowing as if trying to take back the weak pitiful one word question.

"Oh dear?! Geralt my boy have you never been milked before? Such a sweet boy! Here its simple really~"you huffed laughing patting his torso above his cock making it jump again, as if trying to seek you out all on its own.

"Im going to sit between your legs right here~" you purred crawling over one huge thigh and sat yourself between his legs grinding on the mans muscles subtly as you moved across him settling with your knees pressing his thighs apart keeping the hot skin against your clothes legs.

"And then i'll toy with you, tug and stretch, tickle your soft velvety skin untill your noce and thick and ready~" you breathed out moving over him slowly grasping his thickening cock and began to lightly tease him, gently and slowly massaging him to life.

"And then i will take this thin little silver tubey, this thing here see?" You said holding the tiny slim straw like tube for him to see. It was silver and around eight inches long and very very thin.

"And thats going to pop right inside and reach the bottom and this little hole here?" You tried explaining as you drew a light line down his chest with the tube watching his eyes widen in a panicked arousal as he tried to imagine where such a thing was going to go.

"I-inside? Where?!" He cried out in a very un-geralt like manner. You hushed him giggling at him, you'd read his mind. You knew what he truly wanted and he would deny himself this experience no more.

"Inside here silly boy~ your bottom could probably bend it" you uttered quickly tapping the tip on the metal sounding straw to the crown of his cock, nudging the small hole. Geralt drew a deep whiny breath and let his head flop back on the bed. You smiled, that was his secret wish. He wanted to try the peculiar but was worried about asking, he didnt want to be thought lesser for wanting a woman to explore him. To control him.

"But this little straw is going to let you drain for the entire time i play with you~ you wont be able to hold back a single drop" you continued speaking in a hushed tone trying to calm him somewhat and not feed the tiny panic you felt from him.

"And when your ready to cum, just there on the brink of gushing you'll have to beg. Im going to make you beg me- beg your new mommy to cum. And when i allow you to cum, you will and then we can start all over again untill im sure my boy is all tuckered out and completely empty..." you hummed leaning down to his face nuzzling his jaw chuckling and kissing him as you hands moved over his cock pumping him in deliriously slow strokes.

"But not for long~ i have a few other special toys for my little man tonight, tell me have you ever had something up your bottom befpre? Or is your bard strictly a bottom?" You teased knowing full well this witcher was a big alpha male who would most certainly not let his bard fuck him. You wasnt entirely sure it could work anyway, jaskier was puny! You dought he could reach!

"Why?! Why are you doing this?!" He uttered breathlessly as your hand moved over him faster, forcing him to grunt and hiss, bucking into the tight fist wrapped around him.

"I told you when we first shared a room. If we do this your mine. Completely and utterly mine, i also said i will give you what you truly want" you announced referring to your first time a few weeks ago. The moment you'd snuck the witcher into your room and ravished him. The rules being uttered between kisses as you both stripped. He could have you but you also got to have him, you could keep him and love him and own him if he got this one night to fuck you into the mattress. Since then you'd been sneaking into each others bedrolls after deciding to travel together.

"And you want to be owned and dominated. You want to be weak and powerless." You listed off the things you'd seen whilst peeking into his mind during sex, the wants and needs that aligned with your own. You were two sides of a coin.

"You want a mommy to take care of you~" you finally whispered before latching your teeth onto his lip, sucking the delicate skin before releasing with a wet pop.

"And thats exactly what you'll get, now stop your squirming before i roll you over and redden that glorious pert bottom of yours before anything else. Be a good boy for me"" you growled with finality before pulling back from him, he chased you as far as he could still wanting to taste your lips but huffed collapsing back giving into his forbidden desires fluttering his eyes shut and muttering under his breath just loud enough for you to hear..

"Yes mommy, i'll be good"

[thunderbringerarchived]

[ heather ]: one of our muses is lost in the the wilds, and the other is desperately searching for them. ( VIKING VERSE THOUGH )

angst flowers  / /  @whitesuited​

the  entire  camp  had  gotten  separated  by  the  unsuspecting  attack  .  cowards  ,  the  lot  of  them  ,  for  coordinating  an  assault  in  the  middle  of  the  night  .  that  is  the  difference  between  them  and  the  ones  they  call  heathens  .    they  are  out  for  survival  and  do  what  they  must  but  there  are  those  that  attack  purely  for  entertainment  .

the  camp  burns  ,  thor  sees  it  through  the  tree  line  and  he’s  almost  shed  his  disguise  in  this  whole  disaster  .  those  that  took  their  last  breath  saw  the  blue  glow  in  his  eyes  before  the  lightning  took  over  his  veins  .  his  anger  fueled  rage  making  him  completely  unpredictable  .    his  people  suffering  for  no  reason  other  than  raiders  .  .  .  splitting  them  all  up  across  the  forest  and  he’s  not  sure  where  sunniva  in  .  

his  heart  is  in  his  throat  as  he  wildly  inspects  the  environment  around  him  .  one  side  he  can  see  the  fire  through  the  trees  and  the  other  pitch  black  .  screams  ring  out  in  the  darkness,  some  of  uncertainty  and  some  of  pain  ,  and  he’s  trying  desperately  to  keep  it  together  .    

                    you  can’t  fall  apart  right  now  ,  god  of  thunder  .  

it’s  easier  said  than  done  as  he  heads  through  the  brush  and  foliage  .  he  calls  out  for  anyone  who  will  listen  but  she  is  forefront  of  his  mind  .  they’ve  scattered  into  the  pitch  black  night  and  just  the  idea  of  losing  her  sets  his  heart  into  overdrive  and  his  soul  aflame  .  thor  has  never  quite  felt  so  damned  DESPERATE  in  all  of  his  existence  .  

finally  ,  under  the  shroud  of  night  does  he  hear  her  call  out  and  relief  washes  over  him  more  than  he  could  possibly  ever  contemplate  feeling  .    and  with  all  of  his  might  ,  this  god  callouts  out  into  the  night  even  if  he  cannot  mask  the  terrified  tone  he  wishes  that  no  one  would ever have to hear.

❝    SUNNIVA  !!!  ❞

[pokeasleepingsmaug]

Feed You the Sky: Chapter 13

The next chapter! Mostly filler and fluff, it’s more Ivar just reflecting on what happened earlier in the day. As always, thank you to the amazing and wonderful and lovely @shesafreesoul for her help and input!! Hope you guys enjoy this! More action will be coming soon for these two, but in the meantime, have some sweetness.

Trigger warnings: mention of blood, death, and sex. Nothing really explicit though.

AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/10584924/chapters/23963451

It had been many years since Ivar first saw Northumbria, rolling onto the beach in a storm swell, more drowned than really alive. He'd expected to die then and there, but fate was a tricky thing, he mused, glancing over at his wife. They were well into some Northumbrian river. He was a clever man, after all, and still kept some spies in this southern land. Some of the men from the great army of his youth had settled here. They told him there was a new monastery up this river, full of gold and men too weak to really guard it.

Kára seemed eager when he told her of it. The gods bless that woman, she was a true Viking. He could see the disappointment in her hazel eyes when he told her it wouldn't be much of a fight, since this was a home to men who refused to draw weapons to defend their wealth. She was confused by the very idea, and Ivar had spent a considerable amount of time trying to teach her about the nailed man the Northumbrians worshiped.

But then, she knew the easy wealth would make their crews happy, and he knew that was why she had agreed to attack the monastery. That, and he had explained to her while whispering in her ear, tasting the sea-spray on her skin, feeling her press her willing flesh into his hungry teeth, that the Northumbrians would surely send a force to avenge the slain priests.

Kára stood beside him now, watching the first rays of the sun peek shyly over the horizon. The monastery was right there, a mere stone's throw from the bank of the river. Excitement tingled through her, her blood crying out to spill blood. Movement caught her eye, and she hissed as she gripped Ivar's shoulder. “Is that a....monk?” She struggled to find the word, but he nodded. Ivar could barely suppress a moan at the predatory, eager look on her face. “I am going to run the oars.” She told him, then raised her voice before he could protest, “lock the oars!”

Ivar barely caught her shield as she tossed it carelessly at him, already focused on her task. In two quick strides, she reached the side of the ship to find the oars already locked into their horizontal position. She jumped up onto the first oar, screaming like a madwoman, and ran nimbly down the line of them, each step quick and precise. One wrong move, and she would plunge to the bottom of the river, weighed down by her armor, and die there, never to enter Valhalla. But she was unafraid. Brynjar had been an accomplished oar-runner, and he'd taught her well.

Ivar couldn't take his eyes off her, his wild woman, auburn hair streaming behind her. She seemed to fly, suspended above the surface of the river by the oars, and he found himself thinking that maybe a sight like this had inspired that ridiculous Christian story about the man who walked on the sea. Reaching the end of the line, Kára flung herself recklessly onto the ship, still screaming, as she scrabbled halfway up the stem crowned by the roaring dragon-head. Ivar threw his head back, his voice joining hers in the wild song of a wolf before the hunt.

And then his wife was beside him, panting, pointing toward the shrinking back of the monk. She threw herself down beside him, kissing him hard as the nose of the ship gently bumped against the shore. Ivar bit her bottom lip, licking the small drop of blood he drew there, before pushing her roughly back. Ivar positioned himself on his shield, and Kára and her massive warrior Aki lifted him from the ship. His chariot followed, carried by four men, and then his horse emerged from the river, shaking himself like a dog. Quickly the horse was harnessed, and Kára leaped up onto her mare without a saddle, ignoring the cold river-water soaking her trousers.

Ivar watched as she brandished her sword, bareback on her prancing bay mare, looking for all the world like a Valkyrie about to call death forth out of the northern winds. He slapped the reins across his horse's rump, and together he and his wild little woman led their small force to destroy the monastery with fire and steel.

….

It was a day Ivar would remember forever—the unbridled joy on Kára's face as her sword bit deep into flesh, the way the crimson of fresh blood contrasted so beautifully with her pale skin. The cries of frightened Christians, the whooping of the raiders when they found heaps of shining silver. The smell of the monastery burning, the sight of their scrolls catching alight as he touched them with his torch. The hollow clop of his horse's hooves in the empty, echoing hallway.

And of course, the way Kára threw down her sword and shield at the sight of him, dragging him from his chariot with demanding hands, pulling him into the tall green grass beside the smoking shell of the monastery. The taste of blood and Kára lingered on his lips even now, hours later, as he cradled her in his arms in the belly of the longship.

The memory of their lovemaking stirred him, the way she had screamed for him among the dead and dying, his name ripped from her lips in a ragged screech. His heart soared, knowing that had been the last sound men had heard today. Side by side they had destroyed, and side by side they would conquer. He had promised her blood, vengeance, and men. In return, he asked only for her love and was surprised at with which she gave it to him.

He couldn't stop himself from kissing her as she slept, and she snuggled tighter against his chest with a content sigh. “Kára,” he whispered in her hair.” She gave a sleepy “mmm?” in answer, blinking slowly up at him. “I love you.” He had never told her this before, although a part of him had known it from the moment she burst into his hall, framed by sunlight and wind. He'd been scared of it then, cursing himself for the power she held over him, the weakness she brought him to. But he knew the truth of it now. He realized, when she came to him amid the slaughtered, painted with bright blood and tasting of life itself, that she was his strength. His wild, wanton Valkyrie, screaming like the northern winds themselves.

“I love you, too, Ivar,” she answered softly, looking up to meet his blue eyes with her hazel ones. “I always sort of have, you know.” This was not what he had expected, and the simple honesty of her words steals his breath for a moment. He closes his eyes and presses a gentle kiss to her temple, breathing in the sweaty scent of her hair, savoring the lingering salt-and-iron taste of blood on her skin. Once, Kára had thought he would only bring her death. And he had, in a way. He'd taken her life in his hands, and he held it there still. Instead of keeping it for himself, he offered it back to her. She would die a thousand times, only to have him give him her life back, holding it out to her in his bloody hands.