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lokifromvalhalla · 2 years ago

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A nice punishment

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

Ivar The Boneless x [gender neutral] Reader Genre: Smut / Comfort Words: ± 2 100 Kind of content: Oral fixation / Nipple play

Playing with his chest does get Ivar to shut up for a little. It feels way better than it should.

Not proofread! Sorry for any mistake!

╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝

“How many times do I have to tell you?” You sighed as your hands ran across his warm back, feeling every muscle and the bump of every scar under your fingertips. That was something you had done so many times already that you almost memorized his whole back, always knowing if there was any new scar, as small as it could be.

Ivar scoffed, his back vibrating with each word. “And what do you want me to do? Simply not go anywhere? Just sit here like your little doll, is it?” Of course he would be dramatic, twist your words just so you could feel guilty and let him do whatever he wanted, but you already had a resistance to his whining just like Ubbe and Hvitserk, even if it wasn’t as strong. Dealing with Ivar wasn’t any new to you; you were there long before Ragnar returned, then with him when Ragnar came back and took him to England, helped avenge his father’s death, and now dominate York.

The flames from the torches hanging from the stone walls illuminated the room. Ivar had taken over the cathedral so he could establish his base, and used one of the main rooms—probably the bishop's—for himself. It was wide, rather luxurious, as a noble's place. In the first days, you would just hang around the room, but with how he kept asking you to help him with massages or undoing his braces until late at night, now it was also yours.

Today was something like this. A long day of unnecessary efforts and blueish eyes by the morning had Ivar’s muscles protesting in pain, so you were there once again, your hands rubbing oil against his rough skin in an attempt to help him despite all the complaints. He did appreciate what you were doing, though. You knew it was some sort of facade because, even between four walls and a closed door, Ivar still had to keep his goddamn posture at least in a few points to ‘keep you humble’. As if you couldn’t shape him exactly the way you wanted, just like Ubbe would do with his younger brothers sometimes.

“It wouldn’t be a bad idea,” you chuckled against his skin and pressed a kiss to the back of his ear. “My pretty little doll, all for me to use, hm?”

Ivar was silent for a moment, choking on his own words to the same level his cheeks heated up, just seconds before he was turning around and throwing his hands in the air. “What do you think you’re saying? I’m going to feed you flaming hot iron if you keep it like this!”

Another chuckle escaped your lips as you pushed him to face forward again. “And what?” You pulled him against you so his back met your chest instead. “Lose your best warrior? Best strategist? I don’t think you could handle even a day without me, knowing I’m not coming back,” you mumbled, chin over his shoulder and arms under his whilst watching your hands work against his ribs, slowly going up.

Whatever was going on in Ivar’s mind, vanished at the moment your hands started running over his chest. Instead, there were only quiet and incoherent grumbles that you could barely make out. “(Y/n), what...” His words trailed off, breath caught in his throat—he tried to fight against the will to arch his back at the feeling of your fingers tracing his nipples, running around them until they were hard. "Wh..."

"I'm just doing the massage you asked for," you scoffed, hands going down his torso just to come up and stop right under his pecs, proceeding to go up slowly. Ivar hissed at the friction as he arched his back; his hands tugged a little on the sheets before they found their way to your thighs, hence his nails sank into the skin messily in an attempt to both ground himself and warn you. Fruitlessly, of course. "How was your day, Ivar? You just mentioned why you're in so much pain, but never really told me what happened while I was gone.”

“Quit playing.”

“I asked you a question.” The weight in your voice had him shutting up for a moment, though the silence was quickly broken by a moan. Your fingers pinched his nipple, and it shouldn’t feel so good.

Ivar sucked in a breath, at first just spitting out stutters until the way you squeezed his pec had him speaking. “I—I was training, but then got... got in a fight.”

Got in a fight? You clicked your tongue. “Ivar. You woke up with blue-ish eyes, why would you even do that?” It was entertaining to watch how sensitive he was, slowly starting to squirm just because of his chest being fondled.

An indignant gasp came from Ivar, but he paused for a moment; his head leaned back against your shoulder for a moment while his hand adjusted against your thigh. “No...! I couldn’t let that happen! H—He was challenging me! Provoking!” His voice cracked once you pinched his nipple, playing with it between your index finger and your thumb, daring to give it an experimental tug. A louder gasp escaped his lips, back arched against you.

Oh, the old discourse about how a cripple can’t rule properly, you thought. It was already getting annoying to deal with.

“Of course, you ignored everything,” you mumbled, continuing to pinch his nipple, though now also doing the same to the other, and it was enough to start reducing him to pieces—the already uneven breathing lost its pace completely while his fingers trying to grip onto your skin however they could, almost having him throw his hips in the air in search for friction. “and grabbed your little sword so you’d kill the poor man.”

“Not a poor man!” Ivar growled. “He dared to doubt... of one of the sons...” He never finished his sentence, words lost into the dark corners of the room once you let go of him so you could get off your position. “Hey! What are you doing?” The blue irises were nothing but thin rings around the dilated pupils that observed you in desire.

Your chuckle had his eyebrows lowering, mouth pursing. “I thought you didn’t like it?” You raised an eyebrow, moving around until you straddled his thighs, pushing him back against the pillows. Whatever answer he had on the tip of his tongue, it died down with the way you parted his legs with a knee, carefully, instead earning yourself a glare, but it would take a lot more to discourage you. His hips were warm under your hands as you held onto them while leaning down to press kisses to his neck, sometimes nibbling on the skin. “You complain so much, sometimes I don’t know whether it’s real or not. How do you feel being so annoying?”

“I think that you should shut the fuck up before getting yourself killed.” Empty words, of course. Ivar liked the teasing, if anything. In contrast to his words, his arms wrapped around your shoulders at the same time he threw his head back into the pillows to grant you more access.

You breathed a chuckle against his skin, feeling it rise with a shiver according to how you trailed down. “Oh, honey, you still insist on tricking yourself that you can live without me? Pitiful.”

It was fun to tease Ivar then silence him, watch the frustration build up in groans and quiet complaints, his nails sometimes pressing into your skin a little too hard. He was once again silenced, letting out a hum instead at how your lips worked on a spot some inches down his collarbones, sucking and nibbling on the skin until a purple spot was left behind. You knew he had some sort of sensitivity when it came to his chest, but you never knew it was that great until you decided to start exploring it that night; it probably was greater that time, given how long he had gone without being touched like that.

The way he shuddered and breathed shakily just because of how your tongue ran flat over his nipple was truly rewarding. You did it once more, this time snatching a moan that extended itself by how his crotch found a nice source of friction when meeting your thigh on the way once it pushed up. Your grip on his hips didn’t really prevent him from moving, more of guiding his movements and limiting his freedom.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if you came untouched,” you mention. You could taste the light herbal taste of the oil on your tongue—it wasn’t bad, actually.

Ivar clicked his tongue, glancing down at you with a glare that would’ve made anyone else start praying for their life, but not you. Never you. That look didn’t give you anything more than entertainment. “Do you wish to die?”

“To kill you would be fun, actually.” A grin tugged on your lips, easily having Ivar more flustered. He wasn’t in position to criticize anything anymore, nor had enough coherent thoughts for it; he just turned his head away instead.

At first, soft kisses surrounded his nipple, soon being replaced by your teeth softly tugging on the skin, and there it was—whines spilled from his mouth with every nib until he clasped a hand over his own mouth in an attempt to muffle his sounds. It had you pausing, taking a moment to observe his messy form. Sweat had some of his hair strands stuck to his forehead, skin already flush and glistening softly under the dancing light of the flames. His chest heaved up and down with the deep sharp inhales.

The lack of interaction had Ivar’s eyes slowly turning to look at you, and that fucking deathly gaze had something stirring in your lower stomach.

“I wanna hear you,” you finally said, pressing a kiss to his fingers before you started to tug his hand away from his face, finally kissing his lips instead. His hands somehow felt in the way of something, something he didn’t know, but it still didn’t really feel right to just grip onto the sheets while you worked on him. He whined softly against your lips, kissing back with little care because all that mattered was how good you treated him, nibbling on his lips and letting your tongue meet his.

His back started arching once you started trailing down his neck once again, this time starting to nibble on the area around his nipple right away, this time working on the opposite one, with your hands back around his hips, tightly. “Fuck,” he whispered softly, voice tight in his throat, soon replaced by a moan. Your lips wrapped around his nipple to suck softly on it until he was arching his back and fighting against your hands, so you’d change to running your tongue flat against the nub instead.

It was slow and agonizing. Every single time the feeling would start to take over Ivar, erase the thoughts away from his head and have his eyes rolling back, you were there to pull him down, ground him again. Ivar crashed back into reality with quiet complaints and groans that only motivated you to continue, even if your lips would be left sore later. Then, there it was, finally. This time, you weren’t pulling away at the moment his hips started pushing up; you continued to suck on his nipple, even letting your teeth tug on it, and he wasn’t even that restrained anymore, with one of your hands letting go of him to instead fondle with the opposite side of his chest.

A string of curses escaped Ivar’s lips, though soon interrupted by the lack of air in his lungs, his teeth gritted and eyes pressed shut. His hips dragged slowly against your thigh, sending sparkles up his body and down again, right to his lower stomach. His shorter breaths had each time more space between them, as if just breathing would drive his focus away from his release, but then, there it was; a long moan was drawn from his lips at the same moment he finally came. As much as you wanted to see the face he was making, it seemed more of an advantage to continue messing with him until he was squirming, on the edge of oversensitivity.

You pressed a kiss to the bright red skin before you finally brought yourself up to look at him. He had his eyes shut, mouth moving lightly in inaudible mumbles to himself until he opened one eye lazily to observe you.

“You good, love?”

Ivar nodded lightly. “Do you need me to...?”

“No, no.” You shook your head and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “For the gods, Ivar,” you chuckled, “look at you. Came untouched, in your pants!” And just a few words had the haze that took over him fading away, replaced by his usual annoyance, curses and threats that escaped his lips seemingly unstoppingly.

#fan fic #fan fiction #ivar lothbrok #ivar the boneless #x reader #x male reader #x female reader #gender neutral #vikings #writing #ubbe ragnarsson #bjorn ironside #hvitserk lothbrok #ragnar lothbrok

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marrziy · 2 months ago

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Eu tô um pouquinho obcecado...

Será que dá pra eu assistir algum filme e NÃO ficar com o cu piscando pra algum personagem? SERÁ QUE DÁ? 😭

#male reader #leitor masculino #bjorn alien romulus #alien #alien romulus #spike fearn #horror movie #alien franchise

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2-dsimp · 4 months ago

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@baji-sideblog Bjorn the Strategist and the Daddy material Mandus. Two hardworking bees tryna get some good ole coffee. ψ(｀∇´)ψ

Also Rider and Nokka look so cute as gym buddies. Though Nokka will combust in that dress. Again lmao XD.

Doodle Rider and the beautiful @2-dsimp boy Nokka hanging out together

I give this to them as sacrifice lol

The two look pretty in dresses

#Bjorn the Strategist #Mandus Bloodsworth #nokka the husband #Rider Velic #yanderecore #yandere male #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere x you #yandere concept #yandere male x reader

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dark-moonlust · 7 months ago

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Getting Pounded by Nagas PART 5: Βabies

Pairing: Two nagas x f!human reader

Summary: it has been two months since your precious eggs hatched. You have a blissful life with your mates and babies. Your nagas are the best daddies in every way. 😉

Warnings: minors don't interact, 18+!!!!, starts cute but then there is smut, lactating and feeding babies, double 🍆🍆, fingering, p in v, οral (male), anal, dοuble penetr. Don’t like, don’t read please.

This is part of a series. Find all the parts here.

Soft afternoon light filtered through the colorful curtains. The nursery was filled with the adorable cooing of your baby naga boys. You sat at the comfortable armchair, your naga hybrids in the cradle of your arms. It had been almost two months since your precious eggs had hatched, stealing your heart forever. They were a mix of human and serpentine body, just like their daddies.

You marveled at their tiny, adorable forms which fit just perfectly in your arms. Little Rowan looked after his daddy, Thorne. He had a cute, chubby face with big eyes the same color as yours, and a tiny green-scaled tail. Little Bjorn, however had inherited your human nose and lips, and Ragnor’s eyes and red-scaled tail.

You were so proud that your DNA had been accepted by the eggs and they now looked after you as well.

You kissed each of their chubby cheeks and blew raspberries on their round bellies. The little ones giggled and looked at you with tenderness and love. Ahh, your heart felt so full!

Sitting back comfortably, you lowered the neckline of your dress and offered your breasts to your hungry little naga hybrids. They eagerly latched on your nipples, tiny hands nuzzling your breasts as they began to nurse, their tails cradling your arms waist. It was a calming and incredibly beautiful sight, watching them feed and grow stronger with each passing day. And dear Gods, they did eat a lot. Which was good because you had so much milk that sometimes it made you uncomfortable.

Gentle cooing sounds echoed in the quiet room as the babies fed, their tails curled lovingly around you. They suckled greedily, their attention fully devoted to your breasts. A soft slithering sound caught your attention; your mates. With a smile, you turned to see Thorne and Ragnor entering the room. Your naga mates were tall and handsome with strong shoulders and chiseled muscles. Their lower torsos extended into supremely long and powerful tails that moved gracefully across the floor.

They had just come back from work. Thorne and Ragnor were rangers, they protected the frontiers of the rainforest. Your mates looked incredibly smug to have returned just in time for the feeding of the little nagas. They surrounded you from both sides, their scaled tails coiling around your seat. No matter how many times you fed the babies, they loved the sight of you and they also got highly aroused by it.

“Hey, there pretty mama,” Thorne said, bending down to kiss you deeply, tongue slipping in your mouth.

When Thorne pulled back from your mouth, Ragnor was claiming your lips, his long tongue brushing against your smaller one.

“Our beautiful mate,” Ragnor murmured proudly. “Feeding our babies. Looking so beautiful and…” he whispered in your ear, “sexy.”

“I breastfeed at least twenty times a day, aren’t you bored watching me yet?” you teased them, a bright smile on your face.

“Never,” Thorne said huskily, eyes on the babies suckling your nipples. “We can never have enough.”

“Look at our precious little ones,” Ragnor said, caressing each cheek of the babies as they fed from your breasts. They moaned softly at their daddies but kept feeding, too hungry for milk to care.

“Hungry little monsters,” Thorne chuckled. “They are enjoying it so much.”

“They take after their daddies,” Ragnor said, leaning in to kiss the mound of your left breast. His lips were warm and soft against your skin, but the baby didn’t like the disturbance and groaned softly.

“Easy there, little guy. I’m not going to steal your mama,” Ragnor said then winked up at you, “yet.”

Thorne followed, kissing the mound of your right breast. The other naga baby ignored him and latched your nipple harder as if to keep it for himself.

You winced a little at the tug, your cheeks blushing. “You two are incorrigible. Worse than babies.

Ragnor gently stroked your neck. “We can’t help it. It’s hard not to get a little jealous of our babies,” he grinned. “They get the best parts of you.”

You laughed, the sound blending with the hungry coos of the babies. “Well, our babies have their needs,” you replied, your eyes twinkling with love. “They need to be fed constantly.”

“And so do we,” Thorne whispered, kissing you lightly. “But we can wait.”

Once the babies finished their meal, they released your nipples with soft wet plops and squealed up at their daddies. Ragnor and Thorne held them in their arms, kissed and fondled their little tails. Watching your mates with the babies made you so emotional and at the same time, so happy that you’d carried their eggs and went through all the intense naga birth procedures.

Your baby hybrids were worth all of this and so much more.

An hour later, your babies were freshly clean and tucked in their cots, sleeping with their tails coiled over one another and their cute little mouths forming precious smiles. You and your mates kissed them one last time on their foreheads and quietly left the nursery.

“I believe it’s now time for you to take care of the daddies,” Ragnor told you, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

You giggled as they led the way to your bedroom, Ragnor’s strong arms pulling you down onto the mattress, his long tail wrapping around the bed. He kissed you, his mouth possessing yours, tongue licking inside your mouth. Thorne joined in your side, kissing the crook of your neck, tasting and teasing, making you moan with need.

A few expert tugs and wiggles and they had you naked beneath them, their hungry gazes roaming your body. After the birth, your breasts were full and round, your nipples incredibly sensitive and leaking milk. Your belly was also softer and curvier as were your thighs. Your mates were in love with your body and since you were a little shy about these changes, they took every chance to remind you just how perfect and sexy you were.

Ragnor slipped between your legs, arms holding under your knees and spreading them wide apart. Your pussy clenched with anticipation, leaking with arousal and with your mates’ seed from when they’d fucked you earlier this morning.

Thorne’s lips trailed a path down your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses. Ragnor took one swollen tit in his hand, his tongue flicking over your sensitive nipple. Thorne cupped the other, molding it to his large palm while his thumb toyed with your leaky nipple. You squealed as they took turns worshipping your tender buds, hungry lips and tongues bringing you to the edge of ecstasy.

“Such stunning tits,” Thorne murmured, his breath hot against one nipple. “Full and ripe.”

Ragnor’s tongue nursed from the other bud, lapping up the leaking milk. “I could spend an eternity worshiping our mate,” he rasped. “Feasting on her leaking nipples, pulling, tugging, suckling.”

“Also fucking her pretty pussy and tight ass,” Thorne added cheekily, suckling your nipple into his mouth, tongue whisking the leaking tip.

“Oh, yes, that, too,” Ragnor said with a husky drawl. “Pounding her so deep that she can’t speak. Filling her up with our cum.”

“S—Stop teasing,” you said, clutching both their shoulders, your body shaking from overstimulation.

Unbothered, your mates resumed devouring your tits, massaging the tender mounds and doing all sorts of shameless things to your buds with their tongues. Your poor nipples, so sensitive and aching, responded eagerly to your mates’ touches. You stayed there and moaned lewdly as they had their way with you, your breaths coming in short, ragged gasps.

Soon, their hands joined in the sensual game.

Thorne’s fingers reached between your legs and he began to rub your clit in slow circles. Instinctively you arched your body, bucking your hips to gain more friction. At the same time, Ragnor’s hand slid over your inner thighs before stopping to tease the rosebud of your ass. He probed gently at first, his fingers lubricated with your juices, tracing the rosebud before thrusting two thick fingers inside.

Drawn-out moans left you as you thrashed and wiggled while they devoured your nipples and teased your pussy and ass. Their tails came to clutch around your thighs, holding you brazenly open for their ministrations which heightened your arousal and finally pushed you over the edge.

With a cry, you came undone, your body convulsing, your mind blanking out for a few moments. Ragnor and Thorne continued to tease your body, no less intensely. They suckled your tits loudly, slurped at your milk and let out animalistic growls. Thorne’s fingers were languid over your pussy while Ragnor’s stayed buried inside your ass.

“Fuuuuck, you’re exquisite, mate,” Thorne murmured, his lips claiming yours.

Ragnor watched as you were kissed, pulled out his fingers and leaned to kiss your neck.

Both nagas let out low vibrating purrs that that sent shivers down your spine.

When you finally came down from your high, you kneeled between them and started stroking their bodies, taking turns kissing each of them while tracing their bulging muscles and then down their cockslits. Their double cocks were already aroused and had emerged from their slits, jutting angrily toward their stomachs.

Your hands found Thorne’s shafts and your fingers wrapped around both of them, his cocks obscenely big in your small palms. Meanwhile you worked your tongue around each of Ragnor’s dicks, tracing the bulging veins and licking the beads of pre-cum on the heads. Ragnor jerked his hips with an audible moan, thrusting one dick into your mouth, your lips stretching, throat tensing.

Their tails joined in the game, coiling around your breasts while the tips slithered down your legs, opening your asscheeks. Ragnor’s tail filled your pussy while Thorne’s slid past the tight bud of your ass and up your guts. Muffled moans escaped you at the dual penetration.

“Mphhh…” you breathed when Ragnor drew back his cock which was glistening in your saliva. You immediately sucked his other cock while pumping Thorne’s with your other hand, both their tails fucking you with primal ferocity, causing your tits to bounce.

You alternated between your mates, pumping them with your hands and taking them in your mouth. Their cocks were hard and thick, the long girths kissing the back of your throat. You choked only a little and took them like a champ, slick sucking sounds and primal groans resounding across the room.

“Yes, mate —fuckkk, feels so fucking good.”

Ragnor slammed his cock down your throat, chasing his release.

“Ghrr….! Hmnn!” You gagged when the rip of his cock kissed the back of your neck, his hot release spurting down your mouth. You took both cockheads into your mouth and shallowed every drop. Ragnor roared, his hips undulating violently as he came down your throat.

Thorne came next and you instantly put his shafts in your mouth. Your mouth filled with the cockheads while your hands wrapped around the lengths that didn’t fit. In seconds, you were swallowing load after load of his cum. His jizz was too much, it dribbled down your lips but Thorne gently pulled it back into your mouth with his thumbs. You swallowed everything obediently.

“Such a good girl,” Thorne growled as you nursed his cocks, licking a long slow stripe up the underside of the shafts. “Taking every drop of our cum.”

“And letting our tails fuck her tight little holes,” Ragnor drawled, his fingers tracing where you were filled to the hilt with their tails. “Want our tails to keep fucking you, love? Or do you want our cocks?”

“Hmphhh…” you tried to talk but your mouth was filled with Thorne’s cockheads.

“There you go,” Thorne slowly pulled back, slipping from your mouth, a string of saliva connecting his shafts to your mouth.

“Co-cocks… want to be full,” you muttered, a hazy smile playing on your lips. “Cocks, pl-please.”

“Whatever our mate wants, our mate gets,” Thorne kissed you wetly. “We’ll give you our cocks and our love.”

“And lots, lots of orgasms,” Ragnor added, claiming your lips, too.

Thorne laid down on the mattress and gently rearranged your body, pulling you to lay with your back on his chest, your legs splayed wide. Ragnor came to rest between them, watching at where their tails were still fucking you slowly. The nagas retracted their appendages and instantly wrapped around your legs, keeping them obscenely open.

Ragnor hovered above you, rubbed your clit then used his thumbs to pull your outer lips apart and expose the glistening entrance of your pussy. You were drenched, your folds pink and puffy. The bud of your ass was also swollen and the sight of your eager holes made them feral.

“How about I fuck your lovely pussy, love?” Ragnor rumbled, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Thorne can take your tight little ass.”

“Hmm… yes please…” you clutched him desperately. “Want you both.”

“Sharing is caring,” Thorne muttered cheekily as he lifted you by the globes of your ass and positioned you over his twin cocks. He cupped both shafts and prodded your tight asshole with the heads. You whimpered, your tight hole stretching to accommodate his massive cocks. Inch by inch he lowered you down until he was deep up your ass.

It was then when Ragnor pushed forward, clutching his shafts in his palms and driving them inside your pussy. You accepted them, inch by delicious inch, filled to the limit, your belly swelling with their girths inside you.

“Tight. So wet and tight.” Ragnor’s gaze smoldered with need. “Taking us so good. Our good little mate. The mother of our offspring. Gonna make you feel so fucking good, love.“

They started to grind inside you, their hips pumping steadily. They stretched and filled your holes again and again. You sobbed and clung to Ragnor for dear life, while Thorne toyed with your nipples and flicked your clit in time with his thrusts. You came in no time, pussy and ass clenching around their cocks, body arching wildly. Their tails gripped your hips so you wouldn’t shift away from their pounding.

They didn’t stop.

They kept fucking you through your orgasm, Ragnor’s grip tightening as he pulled you to ride him. Your legs wrapped around his torso and he lowered you onto his thick, waiting cocks. The stretch was intense, his girths stretching you to the brim. Thorne sat up behind you, his chest against your back as he adjusted the angle and thrust his cocks up your ass.

The new position was overwhelming, you were so completely filled, consumed by the sheer intensity of their shafts rubbing inside you.

They settled into a maddening rhythm, pounding your holes at the same time, never leaving you empty. Your arms clutched them while your small body, trapped between them jerked in time with their powerful thrusts. The sensations were maddening, leaving you gasping and begging for release.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Thorne breathed against your ear, hands tweaking your nipples. “I can feel your ass clenching around me.”

Ragnor hummed. “Can’t last much longer,” he said, his voice rough.

“Hmmm… m’ too, want to come— ahnn… close so close,” you whimpered as they pounded into you, changing nothing in their tactics.

“Let it go, little mate,” Ragnor drawled. “Let it go and take our cum, hm?”

You nodded fervently, clutching them while bouncing on them and chasing your peak.

Thorne’s cocks drove deep into your ass, and Ragnor’s cocks filled your pussy utterly, their relentless pace shattering you. You came with a cry, every nerve ending on fire.

They followed right after, their cocks pulsing and filling you with loads and loads of their seed. It was so much it overflowed and tricked down your thighs.

As the aftershocks of your orgasm faded, they gently rolled you sideways, their cocks still hard inside you. They kissed you, Thorne against your back, his hands caressing your face. Ragnor lay in front of you, whispering soothing words as he nibbled at your neck. You fell asleep nestled within them, satisfied and full of love.

Your mates. The loves of your life. The fathers of your children. Your everything.

I’d love to hear your thoughts on this! Also, what do you want to happen next? What do you want to see? More smutty stuff on Patreon, too. 😊🖤

#getting pounded by nagas #nagas x you #nagas x reader #monster boyfriend #monster fucker #monster fluff #monster x reader #monster x human #monster x you #monsters x human #monster lover #monster fudger #monster romance #monster smut

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kayharrisons · 2 months ago

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No grave can hold my body down, I'll crawl home to her [BJORN X READER] [18+] [1 OF ??]

The Victor of the 24th Annual Hunger Games.

A/N: AND HERE WE GO!! The first chapter!!!! This is a Bjorn heavy chapter, but don't worry, reader will appear next chapter!! This is p short but it's MOSTLY just to establish Bjorn in this world. Bjorn is ab 17 here!

Chapter warnings: death, gore, starvation, unpleasant vibes between minors and adults, violence

"Ladies and Gentlemen, from District 12, Bjorn Henriksen, the winner of the 24th Annual Hunger Games!"

Bjorn drops the metal pipe with a clatter, staring down at the bashed in face of the District 3 male tribute. He staggers to his feet, spitting out a glob of blood as he distantly hears Lucky Flickerman making his announcements, his cheerful voice fading to nothing but a mere buzzing in his ears as he stares down at the mess of flesh, what used to be a 15 year old's face.

He chokes back his vomit, wiping his bloody hands against his grimy t-shirt.

It's not his first kill.

That boy used to be someone. He had a family, friends, a life.

Bjorn had taken all of that from him.

He hadn't wanted to, had fully intended on waiting the kid out, on keeping to himself.

Both he and 3 had been forced to the Cornocopia by these... spider like creatures. They were strange in appearance, and Bjorn knew he'd be seeing them in his sleep for the foreseeable. If he even got any sleep ever again.

3's face turning to mulch beneath his hands. 7's face going a horrible shade of purple as he sobbed and kept the pipe pressed over her throat. The life leaving 2's eyes as Bjorn shoved the broken pipe end through his throat.

Navarro's lifeless eyes staring at him, accusatory, it was his fault she'd been speared through the heart, why hadn't he been paying more attention? Why had he let her die? Why hadn't he paid more attention to the District 2 tribute? Maybe then it would be Navarro standing here and not HIM?

What would you have to say? Were you watching the Games? Or could you not bear to watch your boyfriend go through such horrors?

He doesn't know which is worse, truth be told. You watching him kill, watching him at his lowest, watching him starve and sob and lose himself. Or you not watching at all and finding things out second hand, him having to explain everything he's done to you.

It's not long before he's picked up by the Capital, before they tut and shake their heads over every bruise, every cut, his hollow cheeks, his longer hair, the stubble growing on his face.

Three weeks he'd been in there.

Three weeks.

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

"We'll get all of this fixed up in no time, Mr Henriksen!" One of the medical professionals says oh so cheerily to him as he sits on a hospital bed, vacantly staring straight ahead of him. "Such a handsome face," she coos, reaching out and taking his chin between her thumb and pointer finger, turning his face this way and that. "Bet you've got your own little fanclub now, lucky boy. You'll have your pick of the litter!"

"I just wanna go home." he whispers, voice cracking. He wanted out of here. Wanted away from these sickly sweet voices, the fake smiles, the bright obnoxious colours and patterns that were starting to become a staple here in the Capital.

He longed for you. Your sincerity, your warmth. He longed for the biting cold air of 12. Longed for those parties the Covey threw, now that their music had been banned, it had become more of an underground thing lest any Peacekeepers attention be caught. Longed for shitty beer and warm bread fresh from the bakery. Longed for the thick, dense woods that surrounded his district, for the secret gap in the fence that didn't get electricity to it that meant freedom, however brief.

His summers had been spent laughing by the lake with his family, with you curled into his side, ever since you'd both turned fourteen and acknowledged the feelings creeping up on you both, taking root like a stubborn plant that refused to be plucked.

His chest ached, for it was absent its heart. It resided firmly in 12, with you, right where it belonged.

"Eventually, handsome," the woman waves him off, picking up a pair of scissors and getting to work on his hair. "You've gotta give your last interview, first! And get the honour of President Snow crowning you the winner, oh, imagine!"

Honour.

Bile rises, which he struggles to force back down. He focuses on the sound of the scissors snipping at his hair, closes his eyes and breathes.

Soon.

He'll be home soon.

#alien romulus #alien #bjorn alien romulus #bjorn alien romulus x reader #bjorn x reader #spike fearn

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em1i2a3 · 25 days ago

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In The Heat of The Summer, You’re So Different From The Rest.

Bjorn x fem!reader

Author’s Note: Howdy y’all. I took a bit of time off from writing because Christmas was an absolute shit show with all the gift shopping and family gatherings. I managed to write this on my breaks during work, and today I was finally able to sit down and work through the little slump I hit to finish this thing! I am back on the roll though and have so many damn ideas running through my head, I cannot wait to post more and let you guys in! Hope you guys had a great Christmas (or holidays!), and I hope you all enjoy this new little one shot. Enjoy your New Year’s Eve if I don’t post before that! :)

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, minors DNI. We have oral sex, both female and male receiving at the same time, P in V sex (unprotected, you know the drill, wrap it up before you go heels to Jesus please lol, stay protected), there’s an established FWB relationship here, I don’t think I missed anything!

A p.s from the author: Y’know when you hear a song and you’re like “holy shit this is a good song to base a horny little smut piece on”? Yeah Summer by Brockhampton is the fucking culprit for the inspiration of this little one-shot. Love the song, adore the lyrics and my god does it make me want to be in warmer weather right now lol.

Word Count: 4,474

Nothing had prepared you for Yvaga III’s twin suns. The warmth felt suffocating, and it weighed everything down, making the air shimmer with a golden haze that made your skin perpetually damp with sweat. The lush greenery and rolling hills were beautiful, sure, but it was hard to appreciate it when every article of clothing clung to your back, and every movement you made sent fresh beads of sweat down your skin. Sometimes, you even found yourself longing for the dark and sterile chill of Jackson’s Star.

You sat in the shadow of the ship, the heat of the day clinging to the air, sticking onto your skin, a film of sweat painting your entire body. You wore a white tank top and a pair of boxer shorts you borrowed from Tyler, knowing they would provide a more airy and baggy fit. Your legs were stretched out in front of you, and you held the data pad in your hands, looking at the scan you had conducted on the ship.

“The air conditioner is fucking broken.” You called out over the drilling noise that echoed above you, throwing yourself back into the tall grass that cushioned you and the ship, sweat trailing down your temples as you squinted up at the shimmering sky.

“I think we knew that when we woke up drowning in our own sweat this morning for Christ sake.” Navarro yelled from the top of the wing above you.

“I feel like I’m overheating, does anyone have an ice pack or something?” Rain complained, her voice carrying from inside the ship as she stepped into the light, her face reddened by the heat, looking as miserable as you felt.

”We’re saving them for tonight.” Tyler responded, “I’d rather not have one of us die from heat stroke while sleeping.” He added, as you wiped the sweat off your forehead with the back of your arm, your chest filling with the thick air.

”This place is gonna fucking kill me.” You muttered, lifting yourself up from the grass, dusting the back of your shorts off “I’m going to lay in my bunk.” You called out, feeling all the sweat dripping down your skin as you made your way into the ship. Thankfully it wasn’t as bad as being outside, but it was still stuffy, the dull scent of sweat mixing with the moisture in the air. You kicked off your shoes, entering the living quarters you shared with Navarro, throwing yourself onto the bottom bunk with a loud groan, before quickly flipping yourself over to stare up at the beams that held up the bed above you. The tank top you wore was soaked through, and the waistband of your boxer shorts were damp, sweat was pooling everywhere, and all you could do was try to fan yourself with your hand, hoping that it would help.

The sound of heavy boots on the metal floors echoed outside of the living quarters, immediately gaining your attention, a groan escaping your lips as you closed your eyes.

”Go away.” The steps didn’t stop, and a moment later the door to the room hissed open. You tilted your eyes towards the doorway, seeing Bjorn standing against the frame. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, and his shorts hung dangerously low on his hips, the dark fabric sticking to his legs. Like everyone else he was glistened with sweat, and flushed red from being exposed to the prolonged heat. His sharp blue eyes scanned over you slowly, lingering on the way your tank top was clinging to you before returning his eyes to yours.

”Are you always this dramatic, or is today special?” He asked, amused by the sight in front of him, as you shot him a tired glare.

”What do you want, Bjorn?” He stepped inside of the room, letting the door shut behind him.

”You looked like you were going to faint out there,” He said, a smirk widening across his face, leaning against the wall near the bunk beds, “Thought I’d make sure you didn’t melt into the floor or something.”

“Well, I didn’t.” You muttered, pushing yourself up onto your elbows, his eyes flickering to your tank top again, watching your chest rise and fall. He was practically stripping you with his eyes at this point, the way they roamed over your exposed legs, picturing the last time he had held them, or nipped at the skin of your thighs. It was impossible not to picture you under him, especially when you were splayed out like this and breathless.

”You look like you’re suffering,” He said, his tone laced with mocking sympathy, “Want me to get a fan?” You rolled your eyes.

”Do you see a fan anywhere?” You shot back, your voice sharp. Bjorn grinned, and reached into his pocket, pulling out a single large ice cube, holding it up into your line of sight between his fingers.

”I brought you something better.” He commented.

”And what are you going to do with that?” You asked, your eyes flickering from the ice cube then back to him.

”Help you out,” He responded, pushing himself off the wall to sit on the edge of your bunk, the mattress dipping under his weight. The faint smell of sweat and aftershave itches your nose as you sit up fully, “Unless you’d rather be uncomfortable, cause if that’s the case I’ll use this on myself.” You squinted at him.

”This feels like a setup.” Bjorn’s smirk widened.

”Always so suspicious…” He murmured, “You know me better than that love.”

“That’s exactly why I’m suspicious.” Not moving as he leaned in closer, bringing the ice up to your neck without waiting for permission. The first touch felt electric as the cool droplets slid against your heated skin. You gasped softly at the sensation, a gentle relief washing over you, feeling Bjorn’s hand come into contact with your thigh, rubbing it slowly, caressing it with such softness that it almost made you climb on him.

“You’re jumpy,” He remarked, trailing the ice down the curve of your neck.

”It’s cold,” You replied, your voice shaky despite your best efforts to hold in your reactions.

”That’s the point.” You felt your cheeks heat up at the way he whispered. The ice left a wet, glistening path down your skin, as his knuckles moved the drops of water along your collarbone. The touch was slow, and when his eyes flicked to yours, the intensity made your stomach tighten.

”Been a while,” You said softly, your voice catching in your throat, Bjorn’s eyes relaxing a bit, his hand on your thigh sliding up to your waist, nodding.

”I know.” He whispered. The two of you had this on again off again thing together, oftentimes you turned to him just for some physical contact, but it was so natural you guys had found yourselves addicted to one another. The dry spell came when the close living quarters were established, and neither of you could figure out how to sneak around properly without the whole group figuring things out, so plans were scarce.

The ice trailed lower now, slipping beneath the neckline of your tank top, settling on one of your breasts, his fingers tugging at the hem of your shirt.

”Let’s take this off hmm?” You hesitated slightly, the tension between the two of you thickening. Slowly, he pulled the damp fabric over your head, tossing it to the floor. His gaze dragged over you, the hunger burning behind his blown out pupils, lingering on every curve of your body, and every bead of sweat that created a sheer on your skin. A small smile appeared on his lips.

”Much better,” He muttered, the ice now tracing over the swell of your breast, the coolness causing your nipples to harden, your back arching towards him. His free hand came up to push the cold trail of droplets over the rest of your heated skin.

”Still too hot?” He asked, moving closer to you.

”Bjorn-“ Your sentence died as he dropped the piece of ice off the side of the bed, sliding his hands to your hips, gripping tightly before pulling you forward to lift you effortlessly onto his lap with a practiced ease, a sharp gasp escaping your throat. His stiff chest pressed against yours, his hands trailing to your thighs, holding you in place. He looked up at you, his grin widening now, your hands coming up to hold either side of his damp neck.

”That’s much better.” He commented, settling himself beneath you, before claiming your mouth with his in a kiss that was tense and rough, his hands roaming over your back with the confidence of knowing exactly how to touch you under his belt. He broke the kiss, moving his lips towards your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin before soothing the marks with his soft tongue. You breathed in shakily, your fingers now tangling into his hair, his hands pulling you flush against him.

”Bjorn,” You moaned, his name leaving your lips effortlessly, feeling his open mouth peppering hot wet kisses along your jaw. His fingers digging into your thighs just enough to remind you how firmly he had you in place.

”Something you need to say?” His breath stuck to your skin, a smile ghosting against your neck.

”You’re being cocky.” Bjorn chucked, the sound resonating against your throat.

“Am I? Cause I don’t really hear you complaining.” Before you could retort, his hands shifted, one trailing up the small of your back to pull you closer to him, the other settling on the soft skin of your waist. His calloused fingers tickled the sensitive flesh of your lower back, as his mouth returned to yours, his lips moving against yours gently. The weight of him beneath you, the heat radiating from every inch of his body, was overwhelming to your senses, but the tension was burning and tightening even more in the pit of your stomach. His teeth grazed your bottom lip, tugging gently at it before deepening the kiss, his tongue brushing against yours, making your breath hitch briefly, your hand coming up to cradle his cheek, a moan vibrating against his lips. You could feel his touch travel down to your ass, gripping the flesh in his palms, massaging gently, as he guided your hips towards his so that you could feel how hard he was through his shorts.

”I think we have too many clothes on.” He whispered against your mouth, the both of you giggling softly.

”Couldn’t agree with you more.” You smiled, kissing him one more time before moving off of him, going further back onto your bunk while peeling off the boxer shorts you had on, throwing them off the side of the bed, your gaze attaching to Bjorn’s as he stood up from the mattress, removing his shorts and boxers in one go. You were always surprised at how ready he was when the two of you would have sex, and this time was no exception. His cock was hard, the tip was a blush red, but he wasn’t too riled up yet, not enough to have precum dripping out from the tip, but the sight still made your mouth water. He made sure the door to the room was locked before joining you on the bed, your fingers trailing over the skin of your stomach as you watched him settle on his knees, opening your legs to have him settle between them.

”Eager are we?” He commented, pushing some of the stray hairs out of your face, plastering an array of kisses over your face, on your cheeks, your forehead, the tip of your nose, but completely avoiding your lips, trying to tease you.

”I could say the same for you, it’s obvious you’re the catalyst for this situation right now.” You point out, a smirk drawing up on your lips, as he pulls you onto him, your thighs now straddling his waist, “Point proven.” You say breathlessly, leaning down to kiss him roughly, holding his stubbly cheeks between your hands, feeling his fingers digging into the meat of your hips. He pulls away from the kiss, his sharp blue eyes glossed over, drunk on his own anticipation.

”Turn around,” He instructed, his voice steady. You could feel the heat creeping up on your skin, your heart pounding against your chest, as he guided you in turning your body with an ease that sent a thrill through you, you hesitated for a moment, following his lead, twisting until you were straddling him in reverse. He pulled you back a little bit, just enough so you could feel the heat of his breath travelling over the back of your thighs, and cooling your wet core, a small groan escaping Bjorn’s lips at the sight.

”Just like that, stay right there.” He whispered, steadying you as his lips pressed against one of your thighs, sucking gently on the flesh, leaving a small red mark right below your butt. The intimacy of the position had your heart racing so much you could feel your head spinning, your hands bracing yourself on his thighs as his mouth came up right against your cunt, his tongue teasing against your slit with a precision that made your breath catch in your throat. He knew your body like that back of his hand, he knew all your weaknesses, and he loved every second he had you squirming under his control. A soft moan escaped your lips, your body responding by pressing against his unyielding tongue, your fingers digging gently into his thighs. His stubble scraped against your skin, the roughness adding an edge to the overwhelming heat of his touch and breath. You pushed yourself more towards him, your back arching at the way his tongue worked against you, another moan escaping your lips, reaching down to grab onto his cock, feeling and hearing his breath hitch at the new contact, bringing yourself down to the tip, your tongue flicking against it to tease him, earning a groan. His movements faltered for a moment, as his mouth moved off of you.

”You’re really trying to one-up me huh?” You smiled.

”Always,” You replied, adjusting now so you were almost flat against him, your mouth now wrapping around the head of his cock, sucking and tracing your tongue along the sensitive nerve endings, savoring the low groan that it coaxed from him, tasting the saltiness of his precum. You began to move your hand in sync with your mouth's movements, listening closely to the uneven breaths Bjorn took, as he refocused on his own task, his hands now holding onto your lower back moving your soaked core back down onto his mouth. His tongue explored every inch of you, tasting every last drop that fell from your slit, his lips teasing and coaxing reactions from you that left your body trembling on top of him. He was much more experienced than you, and he just knew what to do with your body to make you melt into him, he knew your weak spots, he knew that if he took your clit into his mouth you’d give up immediately, but he didn’t want that, this newfound position was driving you both crazy at this point.

The shared rhythm you found was intoxicating, the heat between the both of you building with every movement, and every moan and gasp for air. You took him deeper into your mouth, pulling up just enough to suck on the tip, feeling Bjorn groan against your skin, the vibrations adding to the overwhelming stimulation his tongue was providing. Your hand tightened around his shaft in response, your movements growing bolder as you took him in deeper, working to draw out those sounds from him again, craving the reactions he was giving you, feeling his body tensing beneath you, his mouth pulling away from you for a split second.

”God keep going, don’t stop.” He begged, burying his face back into you, his eagerness playing out in front of you. You moaned against him, your focus splitting between the pleasure he was giving you, and the satisfaction of feeling him unraveling under your hands and mouth. The tension between the both of you built with every movement, and every passing second, the air thick with heat, and with the unspoken understanding as you moved together, giving and receiving in perfect sync. You could feel his calloused hands slide up your back, then back to your hips, his mouth now moving to your clit, eliciting a sharp gasp from you, his lips turning up into a smile. You pulled off him for a moment, catching your breath before focusing on the now reddened tip of his cock, running your tongue over the head, focusing on the most sensitive area just below the head. His breath hitched, his voice breaking as he groaned your name, his hips shifting beneath you.

The position left no room for barriers between the both of you, the intimacy of the act alone was just enough, but the raw physicality of the moment was the thing that was pushing you and Bjorn closer to the edge. His hands moved again, one sliding up your back to steady you as the other gripped your hip, his touch grounding you even as his mouth continued to work you into a frenzy.

”Please Bjorn, don’t stop.” You begged, your words spurring him on, as you focused to match his intensity, the tension continuing to build until it was almost unbearable. Every sound and tremor the both of you shared between each other was overwhelming, the pleasure being a fire consuming everything around you.

When the tension finally broke, it left you in absolute shambles, your body was moving involuntarily at that point, grinding on his face, as his hips raised slightly, so you could take him deeper into your mouth, his cum coating the back of your throat. You swallowed every drop, moaning against him as you rode out your orgasm, coating his face with your slick. Your bodies tangled together in a mess, feeling the world blurring around you. Bjorn lapped up the slickness coming from you, before pulling away, pressing a lingering kiss to the back of your thighs, his breath warm against your skin. You took your mouth off him, a sigh escaping your lips at the sensations that were still running through your body.

“Okay…” Bjorn muttered after a long moment, “That was impressive.” You laughed softly, pushing yourself up, so you could roll off of him. Your legs felt like jello as you practically dragged yourself to the space beside him, seeing his mouth still coated with your slick, a drunk haze glistening in his eyes.

“Impressive?” You echoed, glancing up at him with a faint smirk, “I think we deserve more credit than that.” He chucked, his lips pressing against yours for a moment, before pulling away, watching you lick yourself off your lips.

”Oh definitely, but I don’t think we’re done yet.” He whispered, a smile coming up on his mouth as he watched your eyebrows raise.

“You’re ambitious,” You replied, feeling his fingertips trace circles along your waist, “Didn’t I just ruin you?” Bjorn laughed loudly, feeling himself stirring back to life, the blood running hot in his veins as he nodded.

“I think I’ve got enough left in me to ruin you right back actually, we can call it even after that.” His voice sent a fresh wave of heat through your body, as the familiar pull of desire reignited in your stomach, despite the comedown you were currently experiencing from your orgasm. His shimmering blue eyes searched for yours, the burning craving and lust coating the stare.

“You’re actually serious?” You asked, your voice trembling as his hand moved lower, brushing over the curvature of your hip.

”Very serious,” He replied, leaning over to your ear, his hot breath hitting against the shell, “And by the way, you look incredible like this- flushed, spent, and already ready for more.” He whispered, his words sending shivers down your spine, as he pulled back, shifting so he could sit with his back against the frame of the bunk bed.

“Now climb on.” He added. You looked up at him, now noticing that he too was a blush red all over his naturally pale skin. You laughed a little, pushing yourself up onto your knees.

”You make it sound like you’re an amusement park ride.” You commented, putting your thighs on either side of his hips, the intimacy of the position making your pulse quicken, as you settled on top of him. He reached up, cupping your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks.

”Well, I’m your amusement park ride…And I want to feel you.” You laughed lightly, leaning in, your lips brushing up against his in a kiss that started soft, but quickly escalated into something deeper, more urgent. It was sloppy, and wet, and the both of you could taste each other on your tongues. Bjorn groaned softly, as his hands slid down to grip your waist, pulling you closer to align your bodies perfectly. These were the times where the both of you knew there was something else between the two of you, there was no denying the craving was just a ploy to be closer to you. He could never keep his eyes off you throughout the times where you weren’t sleeping together, and you were the same, but the desire of being something more was left unspoken, it was just the right thing to do.

The earlier tension was still there, simmering just beneath the surface as your hands moved up to hold his neck, feeling Bjorn's fingertips tracing lazy patterns against the soft expanse of skin along your back, the both of you continuing to kiss messily, until your lips were sore. He pulled back, pressing his forehead to yours, his breath uneven, your pubic bone feeling Bjorn’s erection pressing up against it.

“You ready for me?” He asked, one hand coming up to push your hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear, as the other one settled on your hip.

”Yes.” You replied, your voice trembling, bracing your hands on his shoulders, while you lifted yourself slightly so he could reach around you to line himself up with your sensitive slit, the both of you letting out a synched groan as you sank down onto him, the stretch familiar and intense, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. His hands tightened on your waist, his forehead pressing against your chest briefly before looking up at you, seeing your head tilted back in pure ecstasy, your neck fully exposed to him. He took the opportunity to trail kisses up your damp skin, nipping at every spot he could, feeling you settle down fully onto his cock.

“Fuck, “ He managed to say, “You feel so good.” You let out a shaky laugh, your nails digging into his shoulders as you began to rock your hips, the movements slow at first, testing how much your sensitive walls would be able to handle. You could feel Bjorn’s hands sliding down to your ass, gripping it gently as he rolled his hips beneath you in sync with the way you rocked against him but with a new intensity that made you gasp. The closeness of the position only heightened every sensation that struck your body like a tidal wave, every time his hips met yours you could feel the blood in your veins setting ablaze as you pressed into him even more. Bjorn’s teeth grazed against the skin on your neck, leaving a visible mark, before soothing the zap of pain with his tongue.

”God you’re fucking incredible.” He moaned, thrusting up into you, your head tilting back as your legs tightened around his waist.

”You’re so fucking good to me Bjorn.” You managed to breathe out, your fingers tangling into his hair, pulling it gently, “But I need you to be a little rougher with me now.” He chuckled softly, though it quickly dissolved into a groan as you picked up the pass, your hips moving against his with an urgency he had never seen before, his little gasps for air being heard over the creaking of the bed.

”You’re gonna kill me.” He commented, his voice strained but filled with amusement, his hips now finding your rhythm, grinding up into you as his lips brushed against yours, his tongue teasing yours briefly.

”Good,” You whispered against his mouth, “You deserve it.” You added, letting out a breathless laugh. The pace grew faster, more desperate, the tension building between the both of you again with every thrust and sound that escaped into the room. Bjorn’s grip on you tightened, his movements rougher and sloppier, his breath hot against your skin. You could tell he was close, and as you trembled against him, already chasing your second orgasm, he whispered scrambled sweet nothings into your ear, trying to compose words together even though it was hopeless at this point.

When the tension finally snapped, it made you cry out. Your hands tightened in Bjorn’s hair as his cock twitched in you, his warm cum coating your fluttering walls. His arms wrapped tightly around you, holding your body close to his as he rested his forehead against your shoulder, the both of you attempting to catch your breath, feeling your muscles twitching involuntarily. He pulled back slightly, looking up at you, his ice blue eyes overtaken by the wide expanse of his pupils, a lazy smile drawing up on his lips.

“Was it worth it?” You murmured, your voice teasing, as you brushed a hand through his damp hair. He laughed gently.

”Every fucking second,” He replied, the sentence dripping with satisfaction, “But I will definitely need a break before the next round, you have me spent.” He added, his lips meeting yours briefly as he pulled out of you, feeling his seed drip onto his thigh.

“You must’ve been dying to get a moment alone with me during our little dry spell.” You commented, pulling yourself off him, laying down on the mattress, the pillow puffing out beneath your head.

”Oh you wouldn’t believe it, we have to make sure that doesn’t happen again cause I don’t think I’ll be able to survive another one.” He replied, turning onto his side so he could face you, “I might fucking implode.” He added, earning a laugh from you.

”For once I actually agree with you…” Your voice trailed off, as you turned onto your side as well, “I really missed this.” He smiled, leaning in to give you a gentle kiss.

”I missed it too.”

#alien franchise #alien romulus fanfic #alien: romulus #bjorn alien romulus #bjorn x fem reader #alien romulus #bjorn alien romulus x reader #bjorn smut #bjorn x reader #bjorn alien romulus smut #spike fearn #my entire body is literally on fire from writing this thing for too long lol #the hot hot heat of my steamy mind #i’m just a girl

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gratelove · 1 month ago

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Stay This Time

Bjorn Lothbrok x Reader

Separated by fate but reunited by fire, a childhood bond between Bjorn Lothbrok and a fierce shieldmaiden reignites into a passion as untamed as the storm that brews between you. Bound by choice, not need, you demand your own legacy — but Bjorn vows to stay, not to claim you, but to stand beside you as your equal.

Warnings:p in v, fluff

The clash of steel filled the air, ringing out against the chatter of onlookers. You were locked in a heated practice fight, your breath coming in short, determined bursts as you sparred against one of Kattegat’s men. He was twice your size, but that only drove you to push harder, your movements swift and precise.

With a final twist of your wrist, you swept his legs out from under him and planted your foot on his chest. The crowd erupted in cheers and laughter, and you allowed yourself a proud grin.

From across the training field, a familiar pair of piercing blue eyes watched, filled with curiosity. Bjorn Lothbrok had returned to Kattegat, and though he looked different—stronger, broader, with the air of a man who had seen battles—you recognized him immediately. He was no longer the boy you had once called your best friend, but a warrior who carried himself with a quiet confidence.

Bjorn’s gaze lingered on you, a spark of recognition dawning on his face. It had been years since he left with his mother, and yet here you were, standing tall and fierce before him. His brow furrowed slightly, as if he were piecing together a puzzle.

Suddenly, arms wrapped around your neck and a deep laugh erupted in your ear, breaking your locked gaze. The arms of Rune, your long time friend and recent sexual companion. He left a sloppy kiss on your cheek and you laughed, grabbing his forearm with your small hands. He began to drag you away, but not before you got one last glance at Bjorn, who was still watching you.

Later that evening, Kattegat was alive with celebration. The great hall was filled with laughter, the smell of roasting meat, and the clinking of cups. You felt a strange excitement coursing through you, knowing Bjorn was somewhere in the crowd. You stood away from the crowd, leaning against a pillar.

As you sipped from your horn of ale, a voice spoke close to your ear. “I thought I recognized that fierce look on the training field,” Bjorn said, his tone laced with amusement. “You always had the same look on your face when we fight as kids.” The voice made its way to stand directly in front of you.

“If I remember right, I always kicked your ass too.” He laughed, only a few inches away from you. You leaned your head against the wood pillar, tilting it up to meet his gaze. He stood several inches above you, and was definitely not the boy you remembered him to be. He was all muscle, scars, and tattoos now. A true Viking male.

“It was only because I let you win.” You let out a breathy laugh, rolling your eyes.

“Is that what you tell yourself to help you sleep at night? Can’t help being beat by a girl?” His index finger found one of the curls of your hair, playing with it. You breath hitched at his touch.

“Not much of a girl anymore. You’re a woman now.” You raised an eyebrow, trying your hardest to not let him see he’s affecting you.

“Yes, as you are now a man,” you say as your eyes travel down his body, then back up to his eyes. A playful smirk finds his lips as his hand travels down to grab yours.

“Will you dance with me? Or will your boyfriend be angry?” You furrow your brows at his accusation.

“What makes you think I have a boyfriend?”

“I saw that boy you were with earlier.” Your eyes widen in realizing you laugh.

“Rune? He is not my boyfriend. I am no man’s. I belong to no one.” Bjorn smiles and pulls your hand so your flush against him.

“How does such a beautiful woman not have a boyfriend.” He tilted his head in question.

“Because, I will never be known as someone’s wife. I will be known as a shield maiden. People will know my name, not because of who my husband is, but for the person I decided to be.” An expression flashed on Bjorn’s face, one of appreciation. One of respect.

“Good, then you will dance with me.” His gaze was intense on you, his eyes sharp and playful.

“I never said yes.” You squinted at him.

“Come on,” he said, his voice rough with amusement. “Or have you grown too proud to dance with an old friend?”

“Proud,” you shot back. “If anyone’s proud, it’s you.”

He laughed, his grip firm as he tugged you into the swirling crowd of bodies. People moved aside, giving him space as he pulled you in front of him, his hands sliding to your waist with the confidence of someone who never asked permission. You stared up at him, your breath caught in your chest as the world around you blurred into flickering lights and music.

“Show me, then,” he murmured, eyes locked on yours with an intensity that made your heart pound harder than the drums. “Show me if you’re still as wild as you used to be.”

You tilted your head, arching a brow, unwilling to back down. “You’ll have to keep up, Bjorn.”

He grinned, his hands gripping your hips with just enough pressure to make your breath hitch. The music shifted to a deeper, headier rhythm, the steady thump of the drums echoing through your veins. You moved together, your bodies falling into sync as if no time had passed at all.

The air grew thicker with every beat, every sway of your hips. His eyes stayed on you, watching every movement like a predator stalking prey. You matched his energy, rolling your hips slowly, deliberately, knowing exactly what you were doing. His grip tightened in response, his fingers pressing into your sides as his gaze flickered down to where your bodies were almost—but not quite—touching.

“Still think you can handle me, Lothbrok,” you teased, breathless from the thrill of it all.

His eyes snapped back to yours, sharp as a blade’s edge. “I don’t think,” he said, his voice low, rough, and far too close to your ear. “I know.”

Heat spread through you like wildfire. His hands slid up your sides, his fingertips tracing slow, deliberate paths, sending sparks along your skin. The space between you disappeared as he leaned in, his lips so close to your ear you could feel the brush of them when he spoke.

“You’ve grown dangerous,” he murmured, his voice dark and smooth as honeyed mead.

Your heart thundered in your chest, but you refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing you falter. Instead, you spun in his grasp, your back pressed against his chest now, your head tilted just enough to catch the sharp smirk on his face.

“Careful, Bjorn,” you said over your shoulder, your voice a little too breathless for your liking. “You might not be able to handle me after all.”

His breath was hot against your neck as his fingers splayed wide over your stomach, pulling you flush against him. “Try me,” he growled, his voice rough with something far more dangerous than playfulness.

The crowd around you blurred into shadows and firelight. It was just you and him, the rhythm of the music a steady pulse between your bodies. Every movement was deliberate, every roll of your hips matched by his. It wasn’t just dancing anymore — it was a challenge, a battle of control, of tension, and neither of you was willing to surrender.

Your breath came in quick, shallow gasps as you tilted your head back against his shoulder, the warmth of him seeping into your skin. His hands stayed firm, guiding you in a way that felt more like claiming. He wasn’t just following the music — he was commanding it.

“You know how many times I thought about you while I was gone,” he whispered in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. His hands moved from your hips, running up the small of your waist. You spun back around before he had the chance to move further.

“I always knew you had a crush on me,” you teased, as you tangled your hands in his short blonde hair.

His hand cupped the back of your neck, and suddenly his mouth was on yours. The kiss was nothing short of wildfire — fierce, consuming, and utterly unstoppable. His lips were rough but sure, moving against yours like he had been waiting for this moment for far too long. Your breath hitched as you gripped his shoulders, your fingers digging into the leather of his tunic. He pulled you in tighter, crushing you against him as if he could fuse you together.

The crowd around you barely existed now. There was only him — his warmth, his strength, the taste of him on your tongue like honeyed mead and salt. His hand tangled in your hair, tilting your head to deepen the kiss, his teeth grazing your bottom lip just enough to make you gasp. He took advantage of it, his tongue sliding against yours with a slow, deliberate intensity that made your knees weaken.

But you weren’t about to be undone by him.

Your hands moved to his jaw, your fingers tracing the sharp edges of his beard, then fisting in his hair as you tilted his head back, taking control of the kiss. He groaned, low and deep, a sound that rumbled through his chest. His arms wrapped fully around your waist, his grip unrelenting, as if he was afraid you might slip away.

When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathing hard, your foreheads pressed together. His eyes were still on yours, wild and unyielding, his lips swollen from the kiss. You were sure you looked just as wrecked.

“Still think I can’t handle you?” he murmured, his voice rougher now, like it had been dragged over stone.

“Not bad,” you admitted, a slow grin tugging at your lips. “But you’re not the only one who’s learned a few things.”

His laugh was deep and raw, the kind that made your chest tighten in the most infuriating way. His gaze dipped down to your lips again, and he leaned in, his voice nothing more than a husky whisper. “Then show me.”

Your heart pounded so hard it echoed in your ears. For a moment, you glanced around at the hall — the firelight, the laughter, the crowd still dancing and drinking. None of it mattered. Not anymore. The only thing that mattered was the steady thrum of his heartbeat under your palm, the unspoken challenge in his eyes, and the heat that had coiled low in your belly, too strong to ignore.

“Follow me,” you said, your voice low but certain.

His eyes flashed with something wild and untamed. Without hesitation, his hand slid down to grip yours, his fingers lacing with yours like it was the most natural thing in the world. He let you lead him, weaving through the crowd.

The cool night air hit your face as you stepped outside, but it did nothing to cool the fire burning under your skin. His fingers stayed locked with yours, his grip firm but never controlling. You led him through the winding paths of Kattegat, past dimly lit streets and the distant sound of waves crashing against the shore.

Your home wasn’t far, but the walk felt longer with him so close behind you, his eyes boring into your back. Every step felt like an eternity, every brush of his fingers a spark against your skin. When you finally reached the door, you glanced over your shoulder, catching the way he was looking at you — his eyes half-lidded, his breathing uneven, like a wolf that had just found its prey.

“Are you going to stand there staring,” you teased, reaching for the latch, “or are you coming in?”

The words barely left your mouth before his hands were on you again, spinning you around and pressing you back against the door. His mouth was on yours before you could finish drawing breath, his kiss searing, desperate, and all-consuming. You fumbled with the latch, both of you too caught up in the pull of each other to care. The door gave way behind you, and you stumbled inside, still tangled in each other’s arms.

He kicked the door shut behind him, his hands already moving over your back, your waist, pulling you against him. His fingers traced the curve of your spine, pressing you closer until you could feel every inch of him, hard and unyielding. Your fingers worked at the laces of his tunic, tugging them free with urgency, and he let out a sharp breath against your lips, his forehead resting against yours for just a moment.

“You’re impatient,” he murmured, his voice thick with that familiar cocky edge.

“Don’t pretend you’re any better,” you shot back, pulling the leather from his shoulders.

His grin was wicked and full of promise. “Fair point.”

He pushed you gently, guiding you backward until your back hit the wall. His lips were on your neck now, slow and deliberate, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin just below your jaw. Your head tipped back, a gasp escaping your lips as your hands found his bare chest, tracing the hard lines of muscle. Every scar you touched was a story he’d never have to tell, and you found yourself memorizing each one.

His lips returned to yours, his kiss more focused now — no longer a clash of wills, but something deeper, something hotter. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, and his groan reverberated against your lips.

“Tell me to stop,” he muttered against your mouth, his voice so low and raw it sent a shiver down your spine. “Tell me now, and I will.”

You pulled back just enough to meet his eyes. They were dark, wild, but there was something steady there too — a flicker of restraint, a promise to pull back if you asked. But you didn’t want him to pull back. Not tonight.

“Don’t stop,” you said, your voice steady, your gaze unwavering.

His eyes searched yours for half a heartbeat, then something inside him snapped. His hands were on you again, rough but never careless, lifting you with ease. Your legs wrapped around his waist as he carried you further inside, his lips never leaving yours. Your back hit the fur covered bed and Bjorn quickly reconnected your lips.

Bjorn’s hands were everywhere — rough, warm, and possessive as they roamed the curves of your body. The air in your home was thick with the scent of pinewood, firelight flickering against the walls, but none of it mattered. The only thing you could focus on was him — the weight of him above you, the feel of his body pressed so tightly against yours it was hard to tell where you ended and he began.

His mouth was on yours again, hungrier than before. His kisses were fire and steel, each one hot enough to sear away every rational thought. His beard was rough against your skin, but you didn’t care. If anything, you welcomed the sensation — the way it grounded you in the wild, electric storm of him. Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging just hard enough to draw a low, guttural groan from his chest.

“Still think you’re in control?” he rasped, his lips brushing against the hollow of your throat, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there.

“Don’t mistake patience for surrender,” you shot back, breathless but still defiant. Your legs tightened around his waist, locking him in place. “If I wanted to stop you, Bjorn, you’d already be on your back.”

That earned you a sharp, wicked grin. His hands gripped your thighs, fingers digging in just hard enough to make your heart race faster. “Is that right?” he muttered against your collarbone, his voice rough like the scrape of stone on steel. He nipped at your skin, drawing a gasp from you, and then soothed the spot with his tongue, slow and deliberate. “I’d like to see you try.”

“You will,” you promised, tilting his head up so his eyes met yours, fierce and unyielding. “But not tonight.”

His breath caught, his grin faltering for half a heartbeat before it returned, sharper now, more dangerous. “Then I’ll take what you give me,” he said, his eyes locked on yours with a heat that threatened to consume you both. “But know this — I’m not gentle.”

“Good,” you said, your lips brushing against his. “I don’t want gentle.”

The moment you said it, he surged forward, capturing your mouth with a kiss so fierce it left you breathless. There was no more teasing now, no more restraint. His hands were on your waist, pulling you closer, his body pressed so tightly against yours it felt like he was trying to carve himself into your bones. The heat between you was unbearable, every brush of his skin against yours sending sparks down your spine.

You fought back, of course. Your hands explored his chest, nails raking lightly down his skin, tracing old scars and new ones alike. His muscles tensed under your touch, and you felt his sharp inhale, his body shuddering slightly under the weight of your touch.

His hands found the hem of your tunic, sliding under to rest against the bare skin of your waist. The warmth of his palms sent a shiver down your spine, and you arched into him, your breath catching as his thumbs stroked slow, lazy circles against your skin.

“You’re quiet now,” he teased, his breath hot against your ear. “Where’s all that clever talk from before?”

“Careful, Bjorn,” you warned, turning your head just enough so your lips brushed the shell of his ear. “You might regret what you’re asking for. Most men don’t want a woman who dominates them.”

He growled, the sound raw and primal, vibrating low in his chest. His eyes met yours again, his pupils blown wide with something wild and untamed. “I want all of it,” he said, his voice low and dark as a storm on the horizon. “Every part.”

You swallowed hard, heart pounding so hard it echoed in your ears. You weren’t sure who moved first, but suddenly, he was on his back, his eyes wide with shock before a grin broke across his face. You were straddling him, your hands on his chest, pinning him down with a grin that matched his own.

His laughter was sharp and wild, his eyes bright with pride and something else — something hotter. “There she is,” he said, his voice full of approval, his hands gripping your hips with bruising strength. “That’s the girl I remember.”

“She’s still here,” you said, leaning down so your face was just inches from his.

“And by the gods, how I’ve missed her.” His eyes darkened, his grin fading into something more serious, more dangerous. His hand moved from your hip to the back of your neck, pulling you down into another kiss, this one slower, deeper, like he was no longer rushing to win. No, this wasn’t about victory anymore — it was about savoring every second, every taste, every inch of you.

His hands roamed your back, your sides, gripping, holding, claiming. You felt his heart pounding under your palm, wild and fast, just like your own. The steady thrum of it matched yours beat for beat, as if the two of you were caught in the same storm.

“Say it,” he muttered against your lips, his voice hoarse with need. “Say you missed me.”

You pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, those blue eyes that had haunted your dreams for years. “I missed you,” you admitted, breathless but unashamed. “More than you’ll ever know.”

His breath hitched, and for a moment, something softened in his gaze. His hand cupped the side of your face, his thumb brushing your cheek with a tenderness you hadn’t expected. “I missed you too,” he said, his voice so quiet you almost didn’t hear it. “More than I should have.”

For a heartbeat, the world slowed. The only sound was the distant crackle of the fire, the only light the flicker of its glow. His eyes searched yours, his gaze raw and open in a way you hadn’t seen before. The weight of it settled deep in your chest, warm and aching all at once.

But then the storm returned.

His lips were on yours, fiercer than before, his hands pulling you down against him like he never wanted to let go. Your hands were in his hair, tugging hard enough to make him groan, his teeth grazing your bottom lip. He flipped you again, his body pressing you into the bed, his weight a welcome, grounding presence.

There were no more words after that, just the sound of your breaths mingling, the scrape of rough hands on soft skin, and the steady, unrelenting crash of two people who had been apart for far too long. It was wild. It was reckless. And it was everything you had been waiting for.

Your fingers clawed at his back, your legs tangled with his as the heat between you grew unbearable. Every touch was fire, every kiss a clash of wills. You lost track of time, of space, of anything but him. His name was a whisper on your lips, and yours was a growl on his.

He quickly undid the ties of his pants, pulling them down. You did the same to yours, neither of you seemingly able to move fast enough. He grabbed your hands, pinning them above your head. He buried himself in you and you let out a cry of pleasure. He was true to his word. He was not gentle. His thrusts were fast and rough, and you basked in the immense pleasure of him pounding into you. Your head fell against the pillow, your eyes rolling back. He was hitting you deeper and deeper with each thrust.

You met his gaze and he was a thing of beauty. His blonde hair clung to his forehead and his piercing blue eyes drank in your appearance. His muscles tightened under his scarred and tattooed skin as he relished in the pleasure of his cock inside you. If you could see this for the rest of your life you may die happy, you thought to yourself.

With your legs wrapped around his waist, you used your strength to flip yourselves over, once again. You were now on top, palms flat against his muscles pecks. You pushed into them, using them as leverage to grind on him. You moved your hips back and forth, watching as his mouth fell open in pleasure. His hands squeezed your waist, pushing you back and forth with more speed. Your head fell back as you began to bounce up and down on his length. You let out a loud moan at his deep he was entering you.

His hands clasped your breasts as you bounced faster and faster. He let out an animalistic groan and you matched it with your own moans. You could feel the pressure building in your lower stomach. You were so close to the edge.

“Bjorn,” you moaned his name, earning a moan from him. Your movements became sloppier as you reached the edge. You finally tipped over the edge, a wave of ecstasy washing over you.

You kept up your movements until Bjorn hit his climax. You felt him spill into you and you let out one last moan, before falling next to him on the bed. He wrapped his arm around your naked body, pulling you into him.

When it was over, you lay tangled together, your breath still coming in shallow gasps, the heat of his body a steady, grounding presence against yours. His fingers traced lazy patterns on your arm, his head resting against your shoulder as he lay beside you.

Silence hung between you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was the kind of silence that comes after a storm, calm and steady, like the world had finally decided to give you peace.

“You’ll stay this time,” you said softly, turning to face him.

His eyes met yours, steady and sure. He reached up, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I’m done running,” he said, his voice firm with resolve. “I have nothing to run from anymore.”

Your eyes searched his, looking for doubt but finding none. You nodded, your heart a steady thrum of warmth and certainty. “Good,” you murmured, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips. “Because I won’t let you leave again.”

He didn’t answer at first. His eyes searched yours, and for a moment, you wondered if he would say something reckless, something that would make you shove him right back out the door.

But then he smirked, his thumb brushing slow circles over your skin. “I thought you didn’t want a man tying you down,” he said softly, his voice teasing but not cruel. “Didn’t you say you didn’t need a husband or a man to be remembered?”

Your heart stuttered in your chest, but you didn’t look away. Instead, you tilted your head toward him, letting your fingers trace the edge of his jaw. His beard was rough beneath your fingertips, but his eyes were soft now, softer than you’d ever seen them.

“I don’t,” you replied simply, brushing your thumb over his cheek. “I don’t need a man to carve my name into the sagas.”

His grin widened, slow and wolfish, but he didn’t interrupt.

“But,” you continued, your voice strong and clear, “if I choose to have one at my side, he’ll be there because I want him to be. Not because I need him. And not because he defines me.”

His grin faded, replaced by something deeper. His eyes, sharp as they were, held something raw and unguarded now. His fingers squeezed your hip, his grip firm but not possessive. “You are an exceptional woman. I never wish to change you. I never wish to define you. I will stay,” he said quietly, his eyes locked on yours like he was making a vow before the gods themselves. “I will stay because I want to stand beside you. It would be an honor to be know as yours.” His voice lowered into something rougher, more honest. “If you’ll have me.”

You blinked slowly, the weight of his words settling into your chest like a steady, thrumming beat. It wasn’t possession. It wasn’t control. It was choice. And that made all the difference.

You leaned forward, pressing your forehead to his, your eyes closing as the warmth of him surrounded you. Your voice was soft but steady when you replied, “Then stay, Bjorn Lothbrok. Stay and see if you can keep up.”

His sharp inhale was followed by a low chuckle, his breath warm against your lips. “I’d like to see you try and leave me behind,” he murmured, his voice filled with a challenge you both knew would never truly be tested.

You tilted your head, brushing your lips against his, slow and deliberate. “I don’t think I could, even if I wanted to.”

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ryuzakemo128 · 11 months ago

Text

Vikings Writing Prompts

Trigger Warning:

Mention of Death, fighting, miscarriages, suicide.

If anything mentioned above triggers you. Please remove yourself and continue with your day. Your mental health is just as important as your physical health. Vice versa, as the mind can affect the body in equal measure.

Prompts for either imagines, headcanons, one-shots, anything you possibly desire. As long as it is clearly stated as to what character you want it written for. Otherwise I will not be able to satisfy the particular itch you might or might not want itched and scratched.

Characters from the Vikings Show that I am willing to write for as follows:

Male Characters

Rollo Lothbrok

Ívar Ragnarsson

Björn Ragnarsson

Ubbe Ragnarsson

Athelstan

Hálfdanr Hálfdansson

Haraldr Hálfdansson

Female Characters:

Lagertha Lothbrok

Aslaug Sigurdsdottir

Personal Note: I would also preface that I will not write things that trigger me. Things like Cheating and Affairs. At least not in incredible detail as it will harm and hurt my mental health in the long run. And if you respect my mental health, you will respect my personal boundaries as well.

If you would like to peruse my previous works in the past feel free to do so. I will not prevent nor shame those who would want to read them.

Here is a link to two masterlists that contain them.

Masterlist 01 / Masterlist 02

Prompts

Listed below are prompts to choose from if you want to make a specific request for a specific character. First list being SFW and the second one being NSFW underneath the cut.

SFW - Dialogue Prompts

"Whatever souls are made of, yours and mine are the same. As much you might dispute that fact."

"You could just tell me things instead of insinuating them. Communication is important."

"Let me eat my feelings in peace and quiet. Otherwise we are going to have many, many, many problems."

"I know I can't go I'm the one getting nearly all the time."

"I don't trust anyone who would place value of one child above another. Regardless of what someone else may or may not have said."

"For a mother you play favourites quite a bit."

"Depends on what you consider to be fair."

"Aim better! Stop trying to hit me and hit me!"

"You are not my problem. You are theirs. I plan to keep it that way. So neither begging nor pleading to me will not work."

Canon Character x OC/ Reader - Dialogue Prompts

"I am well enough to fight. I am well enough to move around do things myself. Do not coddle me as I were a child and I will not do the same to you."

"I was in exile, I did not abandon anybody, least of all my brother."

"I don't ask for your understanding, I don't ask for your trust either and quite frankly I do not want either one from you."

NSFW - Dialogue Prompts

[TBD]

Vikings Headcanons - Link

Food for the heart and soul - Halfdan the Black x Female Reader - Link

Tarnished and Unveiled Intentions - Bjorn Ironside x reader - Link

Life After Death - Bjorn Ironside x female reader - Link

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daenystheedreamer · 1 year ago

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i thoght the yaoi thing was joke? :(

its /hj. tbc i haaaate most yaoi the majority of it is tasteless voyeuristic erotica which isnt like an evil thing to make but still extremely bad. i think its funny and i mostly read it cos its hilarious. more thoughts under the cut

it's misrepresented and #misunderstood especially by western gay people. its not representation, it's not 'led by queer people', and the difference between 'yaoi' and 'boy's love' is marginal. it's predominantly heterosexual women who enjoy writing drawing reading two (or more..) guys fuck which is fine. yaoi vs bl is often used as both a categorical distinction (yaoi is erotica, bl isn't) and a moral one (yaoi is cringe/homophobic/bad and bl is pure/wholesome/untainted) which is like fundamentally so wrong if you know anything about the genre.

the history is really interesting. It's roots are firmly in shojou manga, as in, explicitly for young women. early works are often taboo-breaking and deal with sexual abuse, incest, etc. an early muse for the genre was bjorn andressen as tadzio in the film 'death in venice' and if you know anything about that film and andressen says A Lot. shonen ai (literally boy love) was originally a term which was pederastic in nature but became the name for the genre. to crib from the wikipedia article cos it summarises it well:

While the term shōnen-ai historically connoted ephebophilia or pederasty, beginning in the 1970s it was used to describe a new genre of shōjo manga (girls' manga) featuring romance between bishōnen (lit. "beautiful boys"), a term for androgynous or effeminate male characters. Early shōnen-ai works were inspired by European literature, the writings of Taruho Inagaki, and the Bildungsroman genre Shōnen-ai often features references to literature, history, science, and philosophy; Suzuki describes the genre as being "pedantic" and "difficult to understand", with "philosophical and abstract musings" that challenged young readers who were often only able to understand the references and deeper themes as they grew older.

Yaoi, on the other hand:

Coined in the late 1970s by manga artists Yasuko Sakata and Akiko Hatsu, yaoi is a portmanteau of yama nashi, ochi nashi, imi nashi (山[場]なし、落ちなし、意味なし), which translates to "no climax, no point, no meaning".[f] Initially used by artists as a self-deprecating and ironic euphemism, the portmanteau refers to how early yaoi works typically focused on sex to the exclusion of plot and character development; it is also a subversive reference to the classical Japanese narrative structure of introduction, development, twist, and conclusion

by the way, that [f] note is: "The acronym yamete, oshiri ga itai (やめてお尻が痛い, "stop, my ass hurts!") is also less commonly used."

Like the term fujoshi, meaning 'rotten girl', is the same it's very silly and self-deprecating. That's so fun! I think the yaoi genre in general is a really interesting phenomena that's rooted so deeply in Japan as a culture. I think it's great that women are able to sincerely enjoy something fun, I think it's great that women were able and continue to have successful careers in writing, and I also think it's mostly bad.

A lot of modern stuff, especially the works getting pumped out of korea by genuinely evil webtoon companies, suffer from the fundamental problems with serialisation. It putters from chapter to chapter and every single one is the same as the other. A lot of Japanese bl/yaoi is in the form of short fiction, about 5-10 chapters, and again there are fundamental problems with this. they often suffer from too much crammed in AND from so little stretched thin.

I also think yes morally or 'representationally' or whatever they are like Pretty cringe. like sorry uke/seme is BAD. sexual assault is not even handled so much as it is kicked around. Women are non-existent at best and horrifically sexist at worst. Also the writing, though ofc i read (often fan-) translated works, just sucks.

You guys don't know how bad it gets. like ok example.... it's hard giving examples cos most of its just boring or bad in a lame way. okay there's this korean rom-com drama webtoon about a boss and his employee and the boss is actually an immortal snake-deity who fell in love with this guy and his employee is the reincarnation of that guy. sounds fine right? well the snake boss has two dicks. So.

#ask #Anonymous #look i know this ask is a joke but i love overexplaining stuff. i love being a nerd. im sowwy🫶

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2-dsimp · 6 months ago

Note

awhile ago i say you saying you were taking requests (if you aren't anymore feel free to delete this) this also feels like a good time to mention i LOVE your art it's so cute like omg

i haven't thought of any good scenarios, but as long as it involves a yandere and mc sitting in their lap, it gets a mandatory reblog from me (~￣▽￣)~

ʙᴊᴏʀɴ ᴛʜᴇ sᴛʀᴀᴛᴇɢɪsᴛ ᴛᴏᴏᴋ ɪᴛ ᴜᴘᴏɴ ʜɪᴍsᴇʟғ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀ ʟᴜʟʟᴀʙʏ ʙᴏᴏᴋ. ᴀғᴛᴇʀ sᴇᴇɪɴɢ ʜᴏᴡ ʀᴇsᴛʟᴇss ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴄʟᴏᴄᴋɪɴɢ ɪɴ ғʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʀᴀᴢʏ ɴɪɢʜᴛ sʜɪғᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏᴏᴋ ᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴊᴏʙ. ᴀɴᴅ ᴡʜɪʟᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʀᴇsᴛᴇᴅ ʜᴇ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ sᴜʀᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴏsᴇ ᴡʜᴏ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ɪɴᴠᴏʟᴠᴇᴅ ɪɴ ʜɪs ᴅᴀʀʟɪɴɢs ᴘᴏᴏʀ sᴛᴀᴛᴇ ᴏғ ᴍɪɴᴅ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍᴇɴᴀᴛᴇʟʏ ʀᴇᴘʀɪᴍᴀɴᴅᴇᴅ.

ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴇxᴛ ᴅᴀʏ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴜɴʀᴜʟʏ ᴄᴏᴡᴏʀᴋᴇʀ ᴏғ ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴀɴᴅ ᴇɴᴀʙʟɪɴɢ ᴍᴀɴᴀɢᴇʀ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ʙᴏᴛʜ ʀᴇᴘʟᴀᴄᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴇxᴛ ᴅᴀʏ. ʙʏ ᴛᴡᴏ ᴜɴɪǫᴜᴇ ᴛᴀʟᴇɴᴛᴇᴅ sᴛᴀғғ ᴡʜᴏ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴜɴᴅᴏᴜʙᴛᴀʙʟʏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀʙᴏᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴀᴠᴇʀᴀɢᴇ ᴘᴀʏ ɢʀᴀᴅᴇ. ʙᴏᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜʀ ɴᴇᴡ ᴄᴏᴡᴏʀᴋᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴀɴᴀɢᴇʀ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏs sᴏ ᴄᴏᴜʀᴛᴇᴏᴜs ᴀɴᴅ sᴡᴇᴇᴛ ᴛᴏᴡᴀʀᴅs ʏᴏᴜ. ʙᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ɴᴏᴛɪᴄᴇᴅ ʜᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴡᴏʀᴇ ᴀ ʜᴀɴᴋᴇʀᴄʜɪᴇғ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴄʜᴇsᴛ ᴘᴏᴄᴋᴇᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ɪɴɪᴛɪᴀʟ "ʙ" ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴇᴄɪᴅᴇᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ᴛᴏ ʜᴀʀᴅ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴡʀᴏᴛᴇ ɪᴛ ᴏғғ ᴀs ᴀ ᴄᴏɪɴᴄɪᴅᴇɴᴄᴇ.

ɪ ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ's ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘʀɪᴍ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘʀᴏᴘᴇʀ ʙᴏʏғʀɪᴇɴᴅ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴇᴠᴇʀ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ʜᴀɴᴅ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ sᴜᴅᴅᴇɴ ᴅɪssᴀᴘᴘᴇʀᴀɴᴄᴇs ᴏғ ʏᴏᴜʀ ғᴏʀᴍᴇʀ ᴄᴏʟʟᴇᴀɢᴜᴇs, ʀɪɢʜᴛ? Yᴏᴜ ғᴀɪʟᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ɴᴏᴛɪᴄᴇ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴘɪᴄᴛᴜʀᴇs ᴏɴ ᴍɪʟᴋ ᴄᴀʀᴛᴏɴs. Bᴜᴛ ᴍᴀʏʙᴇ ɪᴛ ᴡᴀs ᴊᴜsᴛ ʜɪᴅᴅᴇɴ ғʀᴏᴍ ʏᴏᴜʀ sɪɢʜᴛ...

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ᗩ/ᑎ: TᕼᗩᑎK YOᑌ (*≧∀≦*)

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lokifromvalhalla · 3 years ago

Text

I miss you

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗ Ivar The Boneless x Reader Genre: Comfort / Fluff / Light angst Words: ± 4 400

You had always been Ivar's right hand, but something happened, so now you are in the hands of Prince Oleg. Oleg, however, brings you a little gift after one of his trips.

╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝

A sigh escapes my lips as I walk down the hall of the castle, clutching my robe around my body tighter with a hiss. Norway is cold, of course, but at least it is mostly cold only during the winter, not to mean how even the winters are not that harsh, hence I haven’t really grown used to it here despite it not being my first winter in these lands. I approach the closest window, observing the snow falling over the people out there without pity and it makes me feel somewhat lucky to be in such a position, even if I’m still fucking cold, even if I’m not free. I click my tongue, crossing my arms over my chest. All these candles lit around, but they barely do more than to lighten up their surroundings. I need some warm tea.

A guard almost knocks me over on my way to find a servant, making me step closer to the wall and watch as more of them rush down the hall. Whatever is happening, it must have nothing to do with me—it never does, it never does—, so I simply sigh, continuing my search until I find a servant, who quickly bows and moves to do as said.

The palace is nothing like the Great Hall—it feels far from welcoming as the Hall does, far from allowing the same kind of joy we have during the great feasts. I mean, the Prince’s presence is already depressing, by itself. That makes me miss Kattegat. Well, many things do, to be honest, but I don’t think there’s much you can do after falling in the hands of a Rus Prince, even more this one.

The tea comes in no time, the warm cup handed to me by the same servant I had requested it to, and I should’ve asked for it earlier, wow. My fingers wrap around the cup firmly, trying to let as much of my skin as possible come in contact with the warm surface while I bring it closer to my lips, taking slow sips of the tea so I won’t burn my lips or my tongue. This time, I mean. The taste still feels foreigner to me, in a way it’s not bad, but not completely good as well.

My warmth is disturbed by a strong gust of wind, cold wind, that comes from the direction of the entrance to the castle. “Can’t I have a second of peace in here?” I make sure to mutter in Norse to avoid the unwanted attention from any of the guards or servants.

“I hear your complaints, dear friend, and the answer is no!” Oleg’s voice comes from down the hall, and I already twist my mouth, sighing sharply. At least when he is gone, I can pretend I own the place at least a little. I still am not completely sure of what he wants me for, but I certainly can’t be dead or mistreated if he oriented the servants to attend to my wishes so well.

Rushed, lighter steps come my way and it doesn’t take long until Igor shows up, with a small smile on his face. “(Y/n)!”

“Prince Igor, hi!” I bow a little with a smile. “It’s been a while!”

Igor nods, inhaling, but the words that were to leave his lips are replaced by a frustrated sigh as Oleg’s voice once again echoes down the place, in a way Igor just rolls his eyes and walks past me, making his way further into the castle, most likely to warm up, eat or rest.

“I have a little something that might cheer you up a little!” Oleg says, laughing.

“Oh?” I finish drinking my tea before he shows up, and hand the empty cup to the nearest servant. Hardly can Oleg have fixed something that interests me at least as much as him, though I doubt his interests aren’t limited to anything that guarantees his power over not only over Rus, but over everything.

“You’ve been sort of down since you got here, I promise you’ll find some entertainment!” His voice gains that tone it does whenever he is about to do something potentially bad—like when he went after one of his brothers—, and for a second I wonder if he found someone to replace me in his mysterious plan. Even if I’m so far away from home, out of place, I still want to live! I take a few steps back as I hear some low talk before the steps grow closer, though Oleg’s heavy footsteps are accompanied by lighter ones, with more space between them as if someone limps. “(Y/n)!” Oleg grins as he throws his hands in the air. “No need to thank me.”

I’m about to question him when he steps aside and my breath is caught in my throat with who I see. Ivar.

⟐

“So, what’s up with all of that silence between you two?” Oleg raises an eyebrow, speaking but never stopping eating. “Don’t you have much to catch up with?”

I only take a sip of my wine, letting the silence extend itself for a longer while not only because I don’t know what to start with for now but also so I won’t give Oleg the impression he has some sort of control over us.

Since our first reencounter, all Ivar and I could do was to briefly touch each other to make sure we are real, that this is really happening. The moment was interrupted by the servants urging him to change his clothes into dry and more comfortable ones as they mumbled about how the night meal was going to be served soon, so I only saw him again when he, plus Oleg, Igor, and I, were summoned together around the table. Ivar is still hesitant about the new customs and the new food, it seems, now and then adjusting his clothes, and raising his eyebrows lightly when he munches on something new after observing it for a long while.

A sigh escapes my lips as I raise an eyebrow at Oleg. “How did your mission go?”

“More interesting than I thought it would be! We’re discussing it soon.” A smile stretches his lips with that excessive sympathy he always seems to care without making any effort for it to seem genuine.

I hum with a nod, and as much as I want to roll my eyes and shake my head, I’m reminded that I am at his mercy in a country that I know very little about, where being one of the most well-known warriors across all Norway doesn’t even matter.

“How did you end up here?” Ivar catches my attention and I look up from my plate to see him once again eyeing me as if a ghost were standing right there.

Notwithstanding how I want to discuss everything with Ivar, Oleg’s gaze still burns against the side of my head, his eyes watching closely every movement of mine and each time more intensifying the exasperation that grows in my chest ever since his presence back on the castle became known. I am not his pet, but all he does when watching me protest is watch in amusement as if an owner watching their dog chase its own tail.

“After I left from Kattegat,” I start to explain once I swallow the bit of food I had been munching on, “I thought you were chasing me, so I ran away. I wasn’t even anywhere near Rus, but I...” The awful memory of being dragged away by people who I didn’t know, who spoke things I did not understand, has me holding back a scowl. “I was taken here since they recognized me.”

“Of course, one of the most famous warriors,” Ivar chuckles softly, almost humorlessly, with a gentle shrug, “who wouldn’t want them?”

A small smile tugs on my lips and I snort a chuckle, biting back a comment about how I wonder if my fame is still as good as it was before Ivar became king.

“It’s impressive to watch (y/n) fight!” Igor raises his eyebrows while nodding enthusiastically.

“I know!” Ivar smiles as he looks at the boy, though more genuinely this time. “(Y/n) was once my warrior, my right hand. They would go with me and fight with me anywhere! I saw them once kill a man twice their size, only using two daggers!” He mentions one of the confrontations we faced in England. It feels like everything happened a lifetime ago.

Igor’s amusement only grows as his mouth hangs open, eyes widening. “Impossible...”

Ivar chuckles and shakes his head. “Very much possible!”

By the corner of my eye, I can see how Oleg nods slowly. May Forseti and Freyr help me.

“Why wasn’t (y/n) with you anymore?” Igor tilts his head, and Ivar takes a breath to answer, but it never happens; I clean my throat loud enough to get everyone’s attention.

“So, Igor, why don’t you tell me about how you’ve been doing?” I smile softly at him, ignoring Ivar’s confusion and Oleg’s entertainment as he laughs into his cup of wine. “Have you learned anything new?”

Igor shifts lightly, his eyes going from Ivar to me a couple of times, but he eventually turns to me and nods. “Ivar told me how to speak Norse...”

Everything happens smoothly even with Oleg looking like he’s going to throw another tantrum at any moment, but thankfully the man is tired and leaves to his chambers with the notice that he wants to talk to Ivar and me tomorrow. Unfortunately, probably an unavoidable event, and I wonder how much Ivar has seen of Oleg so far. Igor also leaves, so I decide to wander around the castle alone in an attempt to relieve the anxiety that buzzes under my skin, and I find myself yet again standing next to one of the windows.

The nights are much calmer than the day, but now they just seem dead with the rigorous winter. Not even the light of the fire lit down the street makes any proper difference.

“(Y/n).” Ivar’s voice cuts through the silence, almost making me jump since there’s also a touch on my shoulder as my head whips around to see him standing there with a serious face on. “Can we talk?”

“Do I have the right to talk with the god Ivar now?” I raise an eyebrow, unable to hold back the smile that tugs on my lips.

Ivar clicks his tongue and looks away, letting his hand drop to the side. “Forget that stuff, okay?” To forget it? Oh, wow, okay; I nod with a hum, leaning back against the wall with my arms crossed. “Look, I know how much of a bastard I was,” he says, making sure to put on that show of his as if it were extremely hard to confess anything to me despite how I’d been by his side since forever, “I know how— how stupid, idiotic, and pathetic all of that was, but you gotta understand things are different now.” He locks his gaze with mine, blinking a couple of times.

“And what does that mean?” Of course I’m not letting Ivar escape this one easily. Not after everything I went through. He is lucky that I promised to Ragnar that I would try to keep him safe whenever I could.

Knowing what I’m doing, Ivar exhales sharply and leans back a little, humming. “I shouldn’t have been an asshole towards you like that. You were right. I wouldn’t be here, I wouldn’t be running away so miserably if I had heard you.”

“Yes...” I sigh, nodding as I follow the wallpaper’s pattern with my gaze. “That’s what you get.”

“But not only for that!” Ivar’s voice rises a little, compelling me to raise an eyebrow at him. “Also because...” He trails off; his tongue pokes out to wet his lips, and he bites on his bottom lip for a moment. “Well, I love you. You’ve been by my side for so long, enduring things that I shouldn’t have put any of us through, caring enough to rant in my ear until I made a good decision, protecting me. I am not worthy of any of that, I’m not going to lie.”

A chuckle escapes my lips as I observe him, taking a good look at Ivar from head to foot. Half of me holds onto his words dearly, but the other part takes them in consideration as much as one would believe in the words of a man who slipped out of his sanity. “You’re not making much sense to me.”

“Oh, please,” Ivar huffs, “you’ve seen me broken many times already!”

“That was before you slapped me on the face and told the guards to chase me out of Kattegat!” I scoff—did he hit his head and forget everything? “Ivar, I promised my loyalty to you, then you treated me as if I were anyone! No one! Now you go around telling people stories about how I used to fight for you? Don’t play with me!” Anger still heaves in my chest, having evolved from the sadness that once resided there, now barely bringing me to tears anymore, having turned from softness and weakness into sharpness.

“You don’t understand...” His voice is but a whisper, choked in his throat, as he observes me with wide and glassy eyes. “I wasn’t— I wasn’t myself! I was overwhelmed and—”

“Good night, Ivar.” I pat his shoulder with a sigh, walking past him to make my way over to my chamber. It will be a long day tomorrow. I will need a good night of rest.

⟐

Igor is the one to wake me up in the morning, telling me that Ivar is already up and Oleg only needs me to start. Even so, I take my time to get ready, struggling against the need to leave the warmth under the covers just to face two people I wish I could have gotten rid of. Having Oleg in my life is like having an invisible splinter on the palm of my hand that I can’t see, but still annoys me the whole time, while Ivar... I wish I didn’t have to see him again, for it hurts more than it gladdens me. Wanting to hold him close and tell him that everything is alright does not conciliate with the doubt of his words, wondering if there is actually some change. I don’t know if I want to find out the truth.

“Hello.” I greet once I walk into the room, already welcomed by Oleg’s scowl as he slouches over his seat, an elbow over the armrest. “So...” I take a seat next to Ivar, on one of the pillows that sit there. “What do you want us for?”

Oleg hums like snapping out of a daze and adjusts his position lightly. “It’s clear that finding not only (y/n), but also Ivar, is a sign from God for me to put my plans in action. I have an immense interest in the lands of Scandinavia, of Norway, and you two will be essential for my plan. I have not only a strong warrior, but also a king with me.”

King? I look at Ivar, wondering if he ever told Oleg about how he was overthrown, but Ivar looks down as soon as our gazes meet. Oleg probably knows, though—he is not a dumb man, at least not in all of the senses, so he is lying probably to make himself or Ivar feel better.

“Due to the strong winter,” Oleg continues, “we must wait until spring to attack, but that doesn’t mean we should sit and wait. Both of you have fought in great wars, in addition to your great knowledge regarding Scandinavia and its rulers and people, so you’re absolutely indispensable in the making of the plan. I hope you cooperate.” He presses his lips together into a smile.

A chuckle escapes my lips, and I nod. “Yes, because I have so many choices, aside from it!”

Oleg laughs, exaggeratedly, before the room falls into a sharp silence. “You’re a very lucky person, (y/n). Very lucky.”

“Oh?” I hum, mockingly throwing my nose in the air.

“Yes.” Oleg nods. “I can’t have you as a bodyguard during the war if you’re dead, right?”

“I— Me?”

“(Y/n)?” Ivar questions almost at the same time as I do, and we share a look, also sharing the same thought of wondering if Oleg went crazy—or crazier, in this case.

“Yes!” Oleg scoffs, furrowing his eyebrows. “Why not? I want the best warrior to be with me during our attack!”

“But—”

“(Y/n) is going to be by my side and this discussion is over!” Oleg shouts, so loud his voice echoes down the place, and while I just watch it all without any amusement, Ivar’s breath hitches ever so slightly; I don’t know whether my hand itches to hold Ivar’s to comfort myself or to comfort him. “You two—none of you—are in the damn position to question anything! I don’t care who you are, or were!” The heavy quietness that falls in the room drags itself for what feels like an eternity before a sigh comes from Oleg and he leans back against his seat, rubbing his temples with a hand over his face. “I am sorry... All the anticipation and excitement, you know what it can do to a man.” He lets his hand drop with a small smile on his face, almost as if the man who shouted at us never existed in the first place. “But I really ask you to let (y/n) be with me during this battle. It would be such an honor to have a strong warrior like them by my side.”

Not Ivar nor do I verbally answer Oleg in any way after this, only nodding when he says he will be summoning us in a few days to discuss the plan once he has gathered enough people then bowing obligatorily before we can leave the room. I only find Ivar again when I’m throwing my skin cloak over my shoulders to leave.

“Do you want some company?” He raises an eyebrow, and I can’t bring myself to say no even if the word lies on the tip of my tongue.

The cold air almost feels like needles against my cheeks whenever a gust of wind hits us. Still, being out here is better than dealing with Oleg’s madness. Ivar, on the other hand, seems curious about Kiev. Even without saying a word, he follows me the whole time, even when I move to one of the tents to buy a warm drink for myself, and also for Ivar, who exclaims and hesitantly thanks the seller once being handed his cup.

“What’s this?” Ivar furrows his eyebrows as he observes the liquid, bringing it closer to smell it.

“Soup.” I observe him bring the cup to his lips, slowly and carefully tasting the drink before he hums and quickly goes for another sip.

“C’mon. Let’s heat up by the fire.” I nod towards one of the many bowls with fire inside it that are scattered around the place, gladly welcoming the warmth that embraces me when we’re close enough to it.

The soup keeps us once again quiet, sipping on it while observing our surroundings and gathering warmth before we can start walking again. As soon as Ivar downs the last bit of soup, however, things change.

“You can’t let him do that,” Ivar says quietly, and it’s fair, since Oleg seems to have eyes and ears everywhere, sometimes, “you need to be by my side. You know that.”

A sigh escapes my nose, rising steam in the sharp cold air, before my eyes meet Ivar’s, which have hope sparkling in them. For the gods. This feeling tickles the back of my neck and I look up to see Oleg on the balcony of the castle. “Let’s return the cup. I’m still going to walk more, if you want to.” I move to return the cup to the booth, and start walking away.

We’re back to the palace later when it’s already starting to get dark and the smell of food being prepared already lingers in the air once we walk past the front doors.

“My army leaders are already on their way,” Oleg says before the servant is even done taking off my coat. I nod in response, quietly making my way over to my chamber, seeking the comfort of my bed until we need to gather up once again for the next meal. Eyes follow me as I make my way, this time not Oleg’s.

The nap does me more than good, helping my body warm up and also getting rid of the aches that tugged on my muscles and bones due to the strong cold, hence my robe feels warmer and more comfortable than ever as I wrap it around myself and cross my arms over my chest to keep it in place. My peace, of course, doesn’t last long.

“(Y/n),” Ivar says, standing around the corner of the hall that leads to the main room. “Please, I—” His breath is caught in his throat with how I frown a little, but he goes on anyway, with the urgency disguised as annoyance lacing each of his actions. “Why won’t you talk to me? We need to talk and you know that! You can’t just keep avoiding it! You don’t know how worried over you I’ve been! I know you still care, it doesn’t matter how much you deny it!”

I blink slowly, sighing. “Well, you don’t know how much it hurts.”

Ivar hums as he shifts a little. “Believe me, I do. Just— Meet me later, okay? At my room. You know where it is.” His invitation rings in my mind, but I don’t say anything, only eyeing him carefully before I can finally start walking.

⟐

Despite all of my fight against it, I still find myself walking out of my room in the middle of the night, taking light steps towards Ivar’s until I’m standing before his door and I know there’s no coming back now. Only a candle on the small table beside Ivar’s bed provides light to the room, casting warm tones over him as he sits with his back against the headboard, hands folded over his lap as he looks at them like something intriguing happens there. His hair is free from any tie or braid, and I can’t deny how good he looks like that.

Only the soft sound of the door being closed behind me brings Ivar back to reality with a look that makes my heart ache a little.

“Hi,” I whisper, taking a seat by the edge of the bed.

“Hi.” A smile tugs on Ivar’s face, a genuine one. “I’m glad you’re here.” I nod, in response at the lack of what to say, but he’s quick to fill the silence. “I didn’t know what I would do if you kept treating me like that. Even more when Oleg treats you like... like you’re his possession, some sort of pet or prize.” The anger and disdain fills his voice, he speaks in that way he does whenever talking about someone he despises, spitting out the words, and it shouldn’t awaken this feeling in me. “All while I know you belong to me. We belong to each other, actually. You can’t deny it.” His shoulders lower as the tension wears out at the same time his face softens, and Ivar exhales lightly, letting his gaze meet mine. “Please, (y/n), you need—”

“Ivar.” I take in a deep breath. “I don’t know if I can trust you.”

It seems like it hurts for him as well, but Ivar slowly nods, pressing his lips together. “I understand, it’s all fair. However,” he mumbles, and his gaze meets mine, more intensely this time, “I swear on my armring, on my love and dedication to you, that I truly am sorry for all that happened. I never— I’ve always needed you, but I just got to know that after you left and there was no one else to stand there with me.” He swallows audibly, and a shaky sigh escapes his nose. “Please, if you let me love you properly, take care of you, I promise I will.”

Each word brings me closer to a decision, hammering against something inside me that once insisted in petrifying whenever Ivar even looked at me with those big and apologetic eyes of his. “I love you, too, Ivar.” I nod lightly to myself. “And I missed you, too.” The bed shifts a little as I make my way over to his side, pressing close to him given how the bed isn’t that wide, but the closeness does nothing but bring comfort to both of us.

“Thank you,” Ivar whispers whilst curling up against me, letting his head rest against my shoulder according to how we lower ourselves to let our heads meet the pillows. I hum quietly in response, and tug the covers over both of us before wrapping my arms back around Ivar and bringing one of my hands up to play with his hair, softly running my fingers through it. “I am nothing without you.”

“Don’t say things like that.” I press a kiss to his head, sighing. “Everything is fine now. I’m here with you.”

“And I, with you.” He takes a hold of my hand to bring it to his lips, giving it a soft kiss. “Please stay. At least hold me until I fall asleep, let me know you’re here for me.”

“Don’t worry, Ivar, I will be here.” I take a deep breath, and slowly let go of the tension.

“Can you braid my hair tomorrow, in the morning?” He buries his face in my chest, almost muffling his words as he nuzzles me.

“Of course.” I smile a little at the thought. I missed this closeness, I missed everything about him. “I’ll help you with everything. I love you, Ivar.” No matter how many times I say it, it never feels enough, somehow.

“I love you,” he hums in response, voice small, quiet, and distant.

═══════════════

Part 2

#fan fic #fan fiction #ivar the boneless x you #ivar the boneless x reader #ivar x reader #ivar ragnarsson #ivar the boneless #x reader #x nonbinary reader #x male reader #x female reader #vikings series #vikings show #vikings fanfic #vikings #ivar x you #ubbe lothbrok #hvitserk ragnarsson #bjorn ragnarsson

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zaceouiswriting · 3 years ago

Text

Brothers

Character: Bjorn Ironside x male reader

Universe: Vikings

Warnings: Cheating, mention of rape

At the horizon could they finally be seen. After months and months of hard waiting, the ships finally came back. Of course, nobody knows who and how many would be back. But it was enough to get everyone excited.

People running around, cheering and hollering all over the place. Getting everyone to stop what they were doing, to wait at the docks for the ships to finally arrive. It took a while but, as they did dozens of older men, pulled the ships at the docks and bound them.

Laughter, tears happy as well as sad got shed. One of them did not even notice his partner and children missing, too far into the fog of excitement that he was the leader of this raiding party and had brought back immense wealth.

While the docks were full of happy people, you strived around the woods with your children to teach them how to hunt in the wild. Your daughter with her bow, because of her young age and her older brother is already fighting with sword and shield. Both were needed on a hunt.

You had your fun and even got many small animals, even one deer, that someone else needed to get to the town.

As you decided to get back, bring your children home, and sent someone out to get the dead animal, the cheers became audible to you and also the children. Their faces lit up, like the stone in the sky, when day turns to night.

For some odd reason, your stomach twisted and turned. It was a horrible feeling, that you had never experienced before.

Before your children could run off, you hold them back, reminding them that they had goods in their hands, their hunting trophies. In reality, you wanted to hear around if something strange had happened, because of your gut feeling.

You only needed to walk into the town to know that something was up. People began to stare at you, mostly the women even in pity, which made this entire thing so much worse. Telling the children to stay in the house was problematic, especially because they missed their father, just as much as you did.

Still, something seemed to scream at you, that there was a problem, that your children did not need to be faced with.

Walking to the big hall, where you believed would your husband, father-in-law, and the rest of his family be. Drinking celebrating their victory, and dividing the treasures they got.

On the way there, you finally heard from a friend of yours, what happened and why everyone was so strange to you. Anger boiled up quickly, as you stormed over to a guard, taking his spear and storming into the hall.

Without saying a word, on silent feet, you walked in and searched for Bjorn. The moment you saw him laugh, a young man at his side, you threw the spear. Wishing he would move his head, so the spear would kill him, but he did not in the few seconds it took for it to fly. Instead, only the last bit of the metal ripped the skin on his cheek open.

With widened eyes and anger on his own, he stood up, ready to kill. Until he saw you. Anger dissolved in white panic, as he saw your determination to kill him for what he did.

The anger growing in you only worsened as you saw the young man at your husband's side. Not because he was beautiful but because you knew him.

„Phillipe?“, you asked in childlike wonder. It was the first time, the young man had looked up. Immediately tears formed in his eyes, as he saw you. Without any fear, he ran up to you, embracing your taller and more muscular statue.

You missed your little idiot. Leaving him when he was a child, was already hard, but now seeing him back and at your husband's side, was not really something you wanted to see.

„What happened? Why are you here?“, you asked him in a language no one except for Ragnar could understand. Your little brother didn't want to say anything. Alone because of the anger you had shown to his capturer. But he never was able to hold your stare.

„Father put me in a monastery. Jakob is now his heir. When we got attacked, Bjorn saved me. But later took me to his bed. Since then-Since then, he forces me every night.“

To finally hear someone tell you about what your husband does when he wasn’t home, was refreshing, but to hear that your own brother got raped by the man who you thought loved you, got your blood boiling even more.

The worst thing was his silent cries, his tears soon after completely wet your shirt.

„Ubbe, would you be so nice and bring him into my house? He does not need to see what will happen next!“ Even though the queen, Ragnar's new wife you hated with a passion, disagreed Ubbe did what you had told him. Not only because he is a good, young soldier, but also because he fears and loves you as a brother.

Phillipe was reluctant in following Ubbe, knowing that he was aware of what Bjorn had done to him, but trusted you nevertheless.

With him gone, you finally looked back at Bjorn. On the way, you saw Ragnar’s eyes, drilling holes in his son's head.

„Did you have fun, Bjorn? Running through villages? Taking advantage of the weak? And even force men, without knowledge of experience with weapons under you?“, you asked him, while still getting nearer to him. His fear only grew. You were smaller and less muscular to him, but he had lost one too many times against you in a fight.

Finally, as you stood directly in front of him, you asked the most important question, „Did you do it before? Or was this the first time?“

He wasn’t able to answer, but Ragnar did it for him, „It was the first time.“ His teeth grind off one another. Understanding that even when it was the first time, he would most likely lose you as a son.

„Oh, really Bjorn? Which luck! Your first time, going outside of our marriage, you do it with my little brother. He has only lived for sixteen winters!“

As he heard that this was your brother, every single bit, that was still smug vanished. He never thought that you could leave him, with the amount of love you had for him.

But now everything was different and he knew it. „Please, love let's talk about this!“ He never talks like this, until he knows that he did something bad and now also unforgivable.

Instead of hearing him out, you knocked your own husband out cold. He laid on the floor, still breathing, but not awake anymore.

„When he wakes up, tell him he is not allowed to come back to our house. And if he dares too, we will fight to the death.“

As you turned around, an immense amount of sadness and guilt washed over you. If you hadn’t left, your brother never would've been at this place. A monastery, really? You wanted to strangle your father for this. Forcing your brother to become a monk.

Before you left, though, you looked one more time back. Seeing no one aiding Bjorn, filled your heart with love. As you looked at your father-in-law, you nodded in his direction with gratitude and a question on your mind that you could not ask him outright. Maybe when he wasn’t surrounded by his men. And you needed to find Bjorn's mother to tell her and asked her for advice as well. Even though you lived a decade there, many things were still a mystery for you.

[Masterlist]

#Vikings #vikings x male reader #vikings imagine #Bjorn Ironside #Bjorn Ironside x male reader #Bjorn Ironside imagine #x male reader #male reader #male reader imagine #x male reader imagine

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