#dark!harald

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Common Knowledge 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, power imbalance, bullying, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: Geralt of Rivia, Harald Halfdansson, tall & plus-size reader

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You unfurl the strip of legal pad, marked with Professor Halfdansson's messy and pointed writing. The usual scribble that has you squinting at your returned papers. He must be the only instructor in the college that still handmarks his assignment.

Like much of his style, his slanted cursive is chaotic. Often, his lectures or spiraling tangents about his trips to Norway or some mythos unrelated to the topic at hand. He is a well of knowledge, but one which is often overflowing and bottomless.

The subject is far from your first choice. You prefer history with a human subject. Your intrigue is those events which truly occurred, people who once walked the same earth as yourself. Mythos and belief is a human creation but it hardly captures your imagination.

Along your search for title jotted onto the scrap, you find several other books to sate your personal preferences. A book on the Beothuk and their demise and another illustrated index of Renaissance art. Finally, you find the rear corner of the store, the mythology shelves nestled behind Spirituality and New Age.

You hover your finger before the rows and lean in, squinting through your lenses as you search out the rather Nordic-sounding name. You sense a shadow at the end of the aisle but do not look over. You'll just be on your way once you-- there it is.

You pinch the spine of the deep blue tome and slide it out. The cover is stamped with gold runes and lettering, a viking helm the central image. You double-check that it matches the professor's scrawl, however you can never be sure as his Fs look like Ss.

You set it flat on your armful of book, balancing the weight with the rest as you crumple the scrap and tuck it into your pocket. It's a bit more than you want to spend but it will be useful in maintaining your average through Halfdansson's course.

The shadow comes closer and you shift out of the way for the approaching customer. You sidle away as they huff, a breath that fans around them. He leans into the shelf and you sense his head shift and his gaze follow your slow retreat.

"Ah, you are a fan of vikings?" He asks, stopping you in your tracks. "You must've watched the show, hm? Cute series but not very accurate, you know?"

You blink, taken aback but his tone and his assumption. It isn't the first time you've met the attitude in your chosen discipline. When it comes to military history or the lives of vaunted men, there is often an intonation towards female scholars. You have been dismissed more than once.

"Never seen it," you lie, "you seem the type though."

You note his snow white hair, a peculiar shade, drawn back into a half pony, and his blindingly pale eyes. He wears a tunic better housed in the closet of a LARPing club and looms with an air of indignation. He puts a thick hand on the shelf and leans, no doubt used to towering over others.

"Funny, that is the very book I came for," he intones.

"Oh, what a coincidence."

HIs jaw ticks and he snorts, "seems you've found quite the lot--"

"I have. A whole trove."

You go to turn away and hear his sole clomp down behind you, "surely you can grab another encyclopedia. I really need that one."

"Uh, no, this is what I need."

He follows you down the aisle as you keep a quick step, uneasy at how he trails you so fervently.

"Maybe you should grab another one."

"I have all the others. I've been waiting months for that to come into stock," he insists.

"Well, you can find a kiosk and order one in--"

"On a three month backorder," he interjects and grabs your arm. "I'll pay you--"

You spin back to face him and hit his chest with your books, "don't touch me."

"Well, just..." he retracts his hand, "hold up. I'm trying to talk to you. To barter--"

"I'm sorry, but I need this book for class," you hug the books and back up, overly aware of the tingliness from where he grabbed you. You don't like being touched. At all. You can feel your heart pumping.

"Does the school not have a library, little girl?"

Your mouth falls open. Little girl? This guy just can't help himself. You haven't been rude, maybe matter-of-fact, but he's been downright mean.

"Not for sale," you push your shoulders up and back away.

You twist on your heel and speed away. You weave between the shelves and discount tables and join the winding queue at the counter. You don't look back and sway in your boots, waiting your turn.

"I could give you several recommendations for an alternate text," the man appears at your side, crowding you inside the black cords that rein in the queuing customers.

You ignore him and turn your head away. You wish he'd just take a hint. If you heard a single please or any sort of respect, you might consider it. He's only been a jackass and judging at first glance, he's too old for that.

"You don't need it–"

You move with the line and he growls, shifting with you.

"Look, girl–"

You snap your head back and give him a glare. He sucks in one cheek and exhales heavily, "miss, I am asking you nicely–"

The associate at the counter calls for next and you take your cue. You quickly cross the space and put your haul onto the wooden ledge. You hear the pushy stranger snarl something under his breath. You refuse to look back as you hand over your membership card.

Men like that are the very reason you despise the general public. Hard to fathom how you can be so intrigued by the human condition when you can hardly bear to be around other people.

[huariqueje]

Street scene with conversing couple in the dark - Harald Engmann , 1930.

Danish, 1903-1968

Oil on canvas,  40 x 31 cm. 15.7 x 12.2 in.

[majestativa]

Sister Darkness, you rest close […] behind my heart.

— HARALD SVERDRUP ⚜️ 20 Contemporary Norwegian Poets: A Bilingual Anthology, transl. by Louis A. Muinzer, (1984)

[crinj-central]

Aight so basically I got 2 theories about Haralds death, one being what I drew and posted last night on my art account

The other one doesn't involve Harald sacrificing himself and instead he refuses to see that he's been fooled the whole time. Tho personally I'm gravitating towards the one I drew already bc I like that one better LOL

[author-morgan]

i see your requests are open!! can you do something sweet with Harald? (and Halfdan if you’re comfortable with polyamory!)

Of courseeeee. Here is some Harald fluff (with a pinch of bittersweetness and angst). I was going to have this be polyamorous (bc those two come as a pair more often than naught in my fics lbr lol), but once I got started it just turned into something more Harald-centric. Hope you don't mind! (I went a little overboard for him again) Harald Finehair x fem!Reader

HALFDAN THE BLACK is the first to enter Tamdrup’s great hall upon returning from a successful raiding season. The doors swing open wide, and those gathered for the tribunal part, making way for the victorious. Rising from the seat of power, you go to him with open arms, smiling. “I see you brought my husband back,” you muse, watching Harald enter the hall at last, surrounded by a score of rowdy warriors and overjoyed denizens—rightfully so, they have returned with riches and have lost fewer than a dozen warriors during the raids.

“I fear what you would do if I didn’t,” Halfdan laughs, tossing down a heavy coin purse on the table before taking you into his arms.

“It is always good to see you again,” you smile, kissing your marriage-brother’s cheek. He is inclined to agree. After long days at sea and many weeks away, it is good to be greeted by a fair and familiar face such as yours. Halfdan clasps your shoulder as he steps around you, pouring himself a cup of mead—leaving you to his brother. “Harald,” you greet, and the hall falls silent as he approaches you.

His breath catches as he beholds you, standing before him regal as ever with a gifted silver circlet resting upon your brow. His wife. His queen. His heart. It is as though the rest of the world falls away when he stops before you, rough hands cradling your face with the gentlest of touches. “By all the gods” —he strokes his thumbs over your cheeks— “you’re even more beautiful than I remember.”

Harald’s kiss is slow and soft—save for the familiar scratch of his beard against your cheek and jaw—and speaks of the months of longing to return to your loving arms. You kiss him like you’ve done a thousand times before, falling into the rhythm as though you never parted. Your fingers comb through his beard as you part, foreheads resting together, but then your smile widens as you wrap your arms around him, holding him tight. “I’ve missed you,” you breathe. But now he’ll be yours again until the next raiding season comes.

THE WHEEL OF time does not slow, and the harvest season fades into winter and then to the first buds of spring. Nigh all the Vestfold gathered in Tamdrup tonight for the feast to celebrate sowing the first seeds of the new crop and seasoning the turned soil with sacred blood. But that is not the only reason the jarls and fighting men have come all this way. In the coming weeks, Harald, Halfdan, and anyone else willing to sail will make their way to Frankia to raid Paris with Ragnar Lothbrok. Festivities last long into the night, but Harald comes to you soon after you take leave.

He draws lines over the length of your spine as you lay with him, head pillowed on his chest, listening to the slow rhythmic beat of his heat, bare legs entwined, but then you twist in his arms and lean up to kiss him—featherlight and sweet as the mead still on his breath—fingertips following the blue-black scrollwork of his tattoos. Then he tilts his head back, letting you trace the curving lines on his neck and down to the ones on his chest��only your touch could ever make him tremble.

“Paris?” You repeat, following one of the silver scars on his ribs with your fingertips. He’s spoken of the city to the south and of Ragnar Lothbrok before, but with the night’s feast, it became official. Come the spring, he would prepare his ships and set sail to join the farmer-turned-king on his second venture to Frankia.

“Yes,” Harald says, his voice a low rasp. He sees it in your eyes, a flicker of hope that maybe this time you will sail with him and his brother—that you will be able to visit the distant lands so many speak of—but now is not the time for you to venture into the unknown. Your life is not something he can risk so easily and carelessly. Harald curls his hand around yours, then kisses the center of your palm and holds your hand close to his chest. “I need you here, my heart,” he tells you, but you already know that.

“I’ll plan a feast and a sacrifice before you and Halfdan depart,” you tell him—it is what any good queen and wife would do to see her husband and people return safe and with victory. And then he takes your lips and your breath, holding you close. You sigh into his mouth, letting his tongue brush yours, fingers slipping back into his unbound hair. His kiss is reverent, and you cannot help but miss the cracked softness of his lips against yours when he parts, but it is only so he can hold you in his arms.

TEN DAYS AFTER Harald Finehair first sets sail to Kattegat, his brother and the remainder of the fleet are ready to follow. The last of the barrels and crates are being rolled and loaded into the longships when you arrive on the docks to bid everyone farewell and good fortune on their journeys. Six hundred men and shieldmaidens from the Vestfold have gathered over the last two moons, all to leave on this day to join Ragnar Lothbrok in his endeavors—but Tamdrup will feel empty without their presence. Though, there is already a newfound hollowness in the wake of Harald’s departure.

You find Halfdan amongst the chaos, checking the yellow-red shields secured on the side of one of the ships. “Halfdan,” you call, and he turns on heel to face you with a half-bow—nigh teasing in nature, but you are, after all, his queen. Before he can stand upright, you reach out and rest your hands on his cheeks, and he bends a little farther, accepting the kiss you bestow upon his brow. “Be safe,” you tell him, hands moving to clasp his. “Look after your brother.”

Halfdan squeezes your hands. “You know I will,” he assures you. That is something you’ll never have to worry about—the bonds of blood and brotherhood run deep. You nod, and he steps back down into the longship. At your hest, they will set sail for glory and, if the gods deem it so, Valhalla.

One of your attendants hastens to the dock, stepping forward to present the gift commissioned from the blacksmith and jeweler—it's meant to be a surprise in celebration of another year of marriage, but alas, such care and detail took longer than expected. It’s a necklace of bronze and silver with a pendant shaped into the likeness of Mjölnir clasped in the mouths of two silver dragonheads on a chain of alternating links. “It was not finished before Harald left,” you explain, placing the necklace in Halfdan’s palm. “Give it to him, please.” Halfdan nods. “And all my love.”

RESOUNDING HORNS ANNOUNCE the return of Harald Finehair’s fleet in the dark hours of the evening. You rise from bed and make haste to the docks—handmaids following close behind with slippers and a cloak, but decorum is the least of your concerns. So few have returned, you think, counting the dwindling number of ships gathered compared to how many set off. The first wave departs one of the docked ships, and there is no air of triumph in those who press past you—eager to return to home and hearth and for solid ground beneath their feet. “Harald!” You call as he steps from the longship and onto the dock.

But he does not embrace you as he normally would after such a long voyage, and the spark in his stormy blue eyes is faded. It is only when you see who the men are carrying off the ship on a crude stretcher do you understand the cause of your husband’s sullen mood. “Halfdan,” you breathe, looking between him and Harald. You step to your marriage-brother and lift the pelt of fur covering his torso, grimacing—the wound at his shoulder is a festered, blackish mess, and the sweat on his brow in the first chill of winter speaks of the fever that’s set in during the return voyage.

You turn to one of your handmaids. “Call on Mjöll,” you instruct, “quickly.” The years have seen you clean and bind both Harald and Halfdan’s wounds, but this is far beyond your skill, and an herbalist will be needed to call Halfdan back from the cusp of the next life. The girl nods and sets off to the healer’s hut. Looking back at the stretcher-bearers, you point up the way to the great hall. “Take him to the great hall.” In such a state, Halfdan will need several pairs of watchful eyes.

Dark shadows cast from torchlight and iron braziers shroud Harald’s expression—he does not understand how it is you can stand with so much equanimity when faced with such loss. Harald steps to you, and his shoulders fall, then wordless, he slumps into your arms, resting his forehead on your shoulder—another weight you must bear—hands twisting into the fabric of your pale linen shift. You smooth your hand over his back, following the length of his braid-bound hair. “I thank the gods you have returned to me, my love,” you breathe, unwilling to let him part just yet.

Mjöll works to prepare a cataplasm of moss and herbs into the hours of the night, and you kneel at the prepared pallet of fur and pillows, placing a cool, damp rag upon Halfdan’s brow. There is little else you can do for your marriage brother besides trust the herbalist’s remedies, pray to the gods, and hope they are merciful. Mjöll nods for you to leave and tend to your husband. She and her apprentice will care for Halfdan.

He is pacing the length of the foot of the bed when you enter your shared chambers—hands flexing into fists at his side. You step into Harald’s path, hands going to the ties and buckles of his leathern armor. “If the High One truly sought Halfdan’s company,” you tell him, setting aside his vambraces before turning back, “he would already be feasting in the Halls of the Slain.”

To Harald, it is poor consolation but consolation all the same. And deep down, he knows you are right. Shrugging off his worn and stained tunic, he goes to the washbasin and splashes water on his face and chest, scrubbing away a mix of sweat and salt spray, and blood too. Harald returns to sit at your side on the bed—he stares ahead at the flickering flames of tallow candles. “What happened?” You finally dare ask.

“The magic of Ragnar Lothbrok failed,” he tells you. The lingering taste of defeat is bitter on his tongue—the gods had forsaken them on that river, had forsaken Ragnar. As it happened to be, he was just like any other man. “We were humiliated and pushed out of Frankia with nothing to show for it.” He does not remember the last time he returned to Tamdrup, to you, with nothing to show for his travels. It will take time for the Vestfold to recover from such a defeat.

You touch his cheek, fingers combing through his unkempt beard, drawing his gaze to you. “You live, as does your brother.” The rancor in his expression falters, his jaw unclenching, and he leans into you—his nose just barely bumping against yours. Yes, he and Halfdan escaped with their lives. That is more than can be said for many who embarked on the journey to Paris. Ragnar Lothbrok may have lost the favor of the gods, but they still smiled upon Harald and his brother. “That is enough for me,” you say, softly. He kisses you then, and you meld against him with a sigh and a slight smile that he can feel on your lips.

HE SITS ON his throne—slouched to the side and staring into the abyss, twisting his shark-tooth crown in his hands. Your king has returned, yet still, it is only you shouldering the weight of the kingdom. You stop at the dais and extend your hand toward him. “Walk with me.” It is not a request. Harald rises and follows.

The path through the forest is well-worn, both into the Earth and memory. It carves a winding route through the forest and up bare rock to a promontory overlooking Tamdrup and the mouth of the fjord—a place you frequent to look for sails on the horizon when the men are away, a place where Harald promised he would marry you one day what now feels like a lifetime ago.

But the morning fog has yet to lift from the land, just as the fog of bitterness in the aftermath of what happened in Paris has yet to lift from your husband and king. There has been no feast to honor the memory of those lost since his return several days ago and no promise or mention of what comes next for the Vestfold. It is as though he is lost in despair, mourning his brother already despite the day-by-day recovery—just yesterday, Halfdan’s fever broke.

You sit atop one of the boulders there on the promontory. There’s space enough for him to join you, but, for a moment, he lingers and stares. In the morning the light and mist, you seem like one of the winged women—ethereal. A sight that makes his heart twist and ache given the dark thoughts and mood which have taken hold of him since returning to Tamdrup.

Harald sits next to you and hangs his head, letting his hand rest on your thigh—a gentle weight and warmth. “I fear I have not been a good husband,” he confesses. It is never an easy thing for a prideful man to admit weakness and accept his faults, less so for a king. But the failed siege, his brother’s injury, and the long months spent away from you, from home, have been a heavy weight on his heart.

It does not feel right, leaving you time and time again, each longer than the last, to rule over his lands and care for his people—duties which are his. But you rule so fairly, and his people love you for it. “I have left you too often,” he breathes, a new softness and the tremble of guilt in his voice. “And I have left you to carry a burden meant to be shouldered by two backs” —his hand runs across your shoulders, down your spine— “not one.”

You never expected being wife to a king—being a queen—would be easy. Least of all, the wife of an ambitious man with dreams of uniting Norway under a single crown. Harald Finehair is vikingr. To deny him that would be to deny his true self, and even on the loneliest and coldest of nights, you could and would never ask him to be anything other than who he is—the man you love.

“I knew what was expected of me” —you card your fingers through his beard, the first tinges of silver beginning to appear, and he can find nothing but underserved doting affection in your soft gaze— “of you, when we married.” Harald covers your hand with his own, the rough pads of his fingers pressing into your palm as his hand curls around yours, a sigh on his lips. “And I happily said yes, remember?” 

He remembers the day you married well—the crown of spring wildflowers you wore, the blood-tinged kiss after exchanging rings, the bridal race with Halfdan and your cousins tripping over one another to get to the mead hall first. It is still the happiest day of his life—tied with every other day the gods let him wake up beside you.  

Shifting, you lean your forehead against his and gently slip your hand free from his. “You will always have my love and support, wherever you may be.” Harald closes his eyes and curls his hand around the back of your neck, thumb stroking the soft skin beneath your ear. And you press your hand against the center of his chest—feeling the outline of the Mjölnir necklace under your palm. “And I will be here or at your side,” you tell him, a soft whisper dancing over his lips, “wherever you need me to be.” And now he’s certain—you are too good to him.

[Harald-Halfdan taglist: @ahotmesswithprivilege / @alicedopey / @certifiedlittleshit / @charming-merlin / @elluvians / @erzsebetrosztoczy / @gearhead66 / @gossamarnie / @hc-geralt-23 / @hereforreadandwrite / @moonlightsspirit / @morganamayne / @mrsragnarlodbrok / @n0sferatus / @naaladareia / @queenyalo / @rigshak / @savagemickey03 / @xinyourdreamsx / @yalos-writing ] if your name is italicized, tumblr would not let me tag you. if you’d like to be added to my Murder Bro taglist, or any other taglist, just let me know with this Google Form! if I missed you, I am sorry! but make sure to mention it in the replies or fill out the linked Google Form!

[trevlad-sounds]

Invisible Club 018

19.06.2024

Intro 00:00 UNKNOWN ME-no gravity 01:14 gribbles-And A Spinster I’ll Be 04:40 Julio Tornero-suimasen 10:07 Ian Boddy & Markus Reuter-Presentation Of An Offering 13:04 Dark Fidelity Hi Fi-Days Of Jah View 21:46 Mwamwa-Dalab 27:31 Thought Bubble-No Hiding 33:30 Futuregrapher-Qualopec 38:16 Language Field-Plume 43:08 Mike Dickinson-Hemi-Sync i (Focus) 45:33 Sankt Otten-Melancholie für Millionen – Harald Grosskopf Remix 49:15 Maxime Dangles-Révolte 52:22 Herandu-Flea Market Finds 59:56 G-303-curiosity 1:03:27 The Galaxy Electric & Droog Mulholland-Welcome/You Blister My Paint 1:09:07 Beta Consciousness-Past Never Ends 1:12.08 Outro 1:18:50

[mythical-art]

Fishermans cottage -  Harald Oscar Sohlberg

[bumblesimagines]

Under The Moonlight

Part 18

Request: Yes or No

Summary: Reeling from parting ways with his brother, (Y/N) allows Harald in again.. but a party threatens everything.

CW/TW: Typical Vikings warnings, brief/mild sexual content, no hate quite like christian love, nothing else tbh

~~~

(Y/N) tracked the ripples in the water, the distorted shimmering of scales that blended with the golden sand catching his eye every so often. His grip on the spear tightened, the sharp blade at the end barely skimming the surface until he plunged it into the water in one swift thrust forward, a streak of blood mixing with the salty waves. He reached into the water and lifted the spear, wrapping his fingers around the slippery body of the fish before the waves could tug it loose. 

His mind drifted back to Leif and he felt his heart squeeze with bitter longing. It'd only been an hour since his brother departed from Constantinople to journey off to Corfu; the first journey he'd taken without him. (Y/N) knew Leif was right, deep down at least. As vexing and impulsive as Harald was, he'd promised Harald years before to help him acquire Norway, even if it pained him to do so.

Destinies... such tricky things.

Heaving a quiet sigh, (Y/N) turned and returned to the beach, the water clinging to his rolled-up pant legs weighing him down with each step he took. The sand collected on his feet, warm and inviting despite the grainy feeling. He tossed the fish into the basket along with the others and stuck the spear into the sand before heaving the basket up into his arms. The smell of fish and salt mixed, filling his nose and clinging to his clothes as he began the trek along the beach in the direction of the few other homes nearby. 

He hardly needed for money, or anything really, but working kept him busy and reminded him of home. At least in Constantinople, he never worried about facing his father's wrath or the moods that changed as swiftly as the wind. His mother lingered in his mind, however. (Y/N) couldn't help it. When faced with time alone, his thoughts always drifted, fluttering about and filling his mind with thoughts of his loved ones.

"(Y/N)!" A cheery voice called from the doorway leading into the back of one of the houses, the sun-kissed young man smiling brightly at him. (Y/N) returned it with a soft chuckle and quickened his pace until he reached the doorway, specks of sand scattering across the stone floor when he entered the home and set the basket on the table. 

"Isaac," He greeted gently over his shoulder before turning his attention to the older man who entered the room, offering him a smile. "Éfera ta simeriná aliévmata, Platon."

"Paratírisa," Platon murmured, thick fingers scratching at his white beard and brows wrinkled with concentration as he inspected the basket's contents. "Natasa will be pleased." He said gruffly, which was the closest (Y/N) ever got to a 'thanks' from the man before Platon took the basket into his arms and shuffled out of the room to show his wife the freshly caught fish. 

"You do know there's no need for this, right?" Isaac reminded him softly, planting his palms on the table and lifting himself onto it. The wood groaned beneath his weight, and (Y/N) spared the trembling legs a wary glance. "We have little need for help... unless this is how Vikings court their lovers." His eyes crinkled with his teasing smile, and dimples appeared on his dark cheeks.

"I'm afraid you've mistaken this kindness for yourself, Isaac. The fish have always been for your parents." (Y/N) responded, half-teasing and lighthearted. Flirting was an odd thing, something (Y/N) found to be complicated at times. It was easier in Greenland where one would simply state their interest and either be dismissed or encouraged, but leaving his home had opened a door to the complexities of outsiders. 

"Ah," Isaac laughed and reached out toward him, tugging him closer by his shirt and smoothing out the wrinkles forming on the wet fabric. He peered over his shoulder and watched the doorway, waiting momentarily for any sign of his parents before leaning in to press a chaste kiss to (Y/N)'s lips. "My mistake then." 

"I'm sorry I did not come sooner. There was much to do after returning." (Y/N) explained with a quiet sigh, feeling Isaac's hand move to warmly hold the base of his neck. It felt nice to have someone content with what they had for him without longing for anything else—no tension in their muscles or a distant gaze in their eyes. 

"And I assume Spatharokandidatos has been more keen than usual?" Isaac tilted his head knowingly, his brown curls swishing with his movements and voice dripping with amusement. "I cannot fault you, agapiménos. He does seem like an easy man to say no to. I simply wish he knew how to share." 

"You cannot share what is not yours." (Y/N) raised his brows and Isaac released an unconvinced hum, his hand dropping and resting over his thigh as he leaned back slightly. "I mean it, Isaac. Harald and I have tried to make it work over these long years, you've seen it. The peace never lasts long with him. He lusts for a crown that has no desire to be placed on his head."

"And yet, he lusts for you, as well." Isaac reminded him softly. "As long as you two are near each other, it will be the same dance over and over again until one of you collapses." 

"I've already collapsed." 

                    ➸        ➸       ➸       ➸       ➸       ➸

Sand spilled across the stone floors as he used a rag to wipe away the golden specks that'd collected along his feet and calves. The scent of salt and sea clung to him, filling the air of his home and mixing with the aroma of citrus. Better than the stench of fish, he supposed as he set the rag aside and ventured further into his home. His eyes glided over the room until a shimmer caught his attention, dragging his gaze toward the window where a necklace hung from the hanging flowerpot. 

He'd grown used to gifts over the years but they were often given to him in person, not left behind to be found. He walked forward and carefully tugged on it, running his fingers over the seashell design in the middle. There were few he knew who'd gift him a golden necklace but only one came to mind who'd be secretive about it. 

"(Y/N)-"

His heart skipped a beat and he whirled around, his fingers tightening around the necklace as he tucked his arm behind his back. "Gods, Harald," (Y/N) hissed, swallowing a breath of air in hopes of calming his racing heart. The prince stared at him, his brows furrowed tightly together. "I.. I hear you've been rewarded for your actions. Kaysan claims he brought more gold to your home than he'd seen in his entire life. Your uncle will be thrilled to hear of it."

"Yes.." Harald drawled lowly and stepped toward him until they were nearly chest to chest, his eyes scanning (Y/N)'s features. "What are you hiding?" 

"Why are you here?" 

With a tick of his jaw, Harald reached behind him to wrap his fingers around (Y/N)'s wrist and pry his arm out. The gold glimmered from the sunlight pouring in, naturally drawing attention to itself and the design etched into it. Harald studied it, his jaw shifting with the grinding of his teeth before he dug his hand into his pocket to retrieve a key with the same design. (Y/N) plucked it from between his pinched fingers and tugged his wrist out of Harald's grip, holding the two objects together.

"Empress Zoe," Harald answered his unspoken question gruffly, annoyance thick in his voice and shoulders tense. "She asked me to deliver it to you.. said you would figure it out."

(Y/N)'s head cocked to the side as he rubbed his thumb over the golden key. It was a pretty thing. "So, it is like... a riddle, then?"

"No. It's a key-"

"I can see that, Harald."

"-and one that very few have because it can grant passage to a room few go in.. such as her husband.. or a lover." 

"Oh." (Y/N) simply said, the curiosity in him vanishing with the swift explanation. She was courting, or at the very least flirting, with him. "When you are an empress.. I suppose you must go about it strangely." 

Harald's adams apple bobbed. "You cannot be seriously considering-"

"Why does it matter to you?" (Y/N)'s fingers curled around the key, the cool metal digging into the warmth of his fingers. He felt silly asking when he knew the answer well, but it wasn't enough. It was never enough. Harald's words held little value and he'd proven it time and time again, year after year. "What I do in my spare time is none of your concern."

"It would be treason-"

"You would do it if she was pursuing you, Harald." A rush of irritation pierced his gut, the familiar heat of anger creeping up his neck. Harald's lips pressed into a line and his head turned away from him, the creases on his face smoothing out with gut-wrenching confirmation that nearly made tears prick in (Y/N)'s eyes. "You would-" His voice threatened to crack and Harald's gaze snapped back to him. "You would do anything for power."

Harald winced but (Y/N) stepped out of reach before Harald could envelop him in an embrace. He approached the wooden desk pressed up against the wall and tugged on the drawer with trembling fingers only to hesitate as he went to place the empress's gifts inside. He noticed it immediately and a pang of guilt rammed into his chest at the sight of his old necklace, set aside and forgotten over the years.

The feeling of a broad chest pressing into his back brought him out of the brief daze and he exhaled shakily. Harald reached down into the drawer and picked it up, his calloused fingers brushing over the teeth before he raised his hands to wrap the necklace around his neck and tie the ends together in a tight knot. His fingertips brushed delicately over the necklace and ghosted over the skin of (Y/N)'s neck. 

"To have power is to be respected." He said softly, breath fanning his ear. "To be respected, especially as King of Norway, means doing whatever you desire." 

(Y/N)'s nostrils flared with a deep inhale. "Yes, until your power is taken by another. Power is hard to gain and easy to lose, Harald." He turned to face him, eyes lingering on his lips before flickering up to those dark eyes he knew so well. "You have many riches, you have the Emperor's favor, you have an army. Yet it is not enough.. and if this, if money, is not enough for you.. I won't be either." 

"You're wrong."

"No, I'm not." He dryly chuckled. "You will be advised to have children, to secure an heir, and I know you will not choose just any woman to be your queen and mother of your children. You'll find a beautiful woman, one you won't be able to resist, and I will be cast aside for her. I know you care for me... but you love the crown more." 

Harald's mouth pressed into a line and he shook his head, too weakly to truly be in disagreement with him. He pressed his forehead against (Y/N)'s and the tip of his nose grazed his, his facial hair lightly tickling his cupid bow before it rubbed against his skin as Harald closed the distance. His arms, developed over the years of work as a warrior, wrapped tightly around (Y/N)'s waist, trapping him against his chest in an agonizingly familiar embrace.

"Harald," (Y/N) exhaled against his mouth, his palms pressing into Harald's shoulder blades but not quite pushing against him. "This will not solve anything, and you know it."

Harald kissed him hard again. "But it will make us feel better." 

A little voice in the back of (Y/N)'s head shrieked at him to put a stop to it, to permanently end whatever complicated relationship he had with the prince once and for all. The constant tug and pull was exhausting and draining and yet, it was addicting. He knew it was for the best to firmly plant his feet on the ground and demand to be properly heard but he allowed himself to be swept up into Harald's arms and taken to his bedroom. 

It was horribly addicting, the way Harald balanced tenderness with roughness; his gentle hands while peeling the clothes of their bodies, his careful fingers that squeezed and rubbed over his skin soothingly, the warmth of his mouth as he pressed sweet kisses down his abdomen and nipped the fat of his thighs. Sometimes he felt as if Harald knew his body better than himself, and perhaps it was true. 

Harald always knew how to make him shiver and gasp, always knew when to push past the ring of muscle and curl his finger just right. He always hummed with delight when (Y/N) shuddered and squirmed, his free hand keeping a firm hold on his hip while the other worked on pumping one, then two, sometimes three fingers in and out of him. His eyes drank in every micro expression that passed over (Y/N)'s features, yet he gazed up at him as if he were reciting poetry and not gasping and muttering his name.

These were the times (Y/N) felt his heart flutter with affection. He couldn't help it, not when Harald would settle on the bed and tug him onto his lap, that pretty smile of his remaining on his face as he murmured praises despite his chest vibrating with low groans. Sometimes he wished they could stay in these moments forever, connected and content with each other, their brains fuzzy with affection and pleasure.

But it never mattered, even when sweat clung to their skin and Harald recited his name like a prayer until his hips spasmed and his teeth clamped down on (Y/N)'s shoulder. 

It never truly mattered.

(Y/N) wanted to believe the opposite, desperately. The peppered kisses Harald left over his shoulders, soothing every bruise and mark he left with his mouth and coiling his arms around him to keep him close. (Y/N) traced the scars littered across his body, the ones from daggers and swords and axes, the ones he tended to himself.

He thought of their past and everything they'd gone through together, half-listening to the breathy mutters leaving Harald's mouth because no amount of promises could ever convince him they had a future. 

"My uncle arrived earlier this evening," Harald sighed into his temple, his fingertips dragging back and forth over (Y/N)'s arm. "As always, I will send my riches back to Novgorod. I believe the time to leave Constiantople draws ever closer.. he mentioned I have enough gold to raise five armies if I wish."

"He must be proud." (Y/N) murmured.

"He is." Harald nodded and pressed a soft kiss to his earlobe. "He also brings news of Freydis." 

The sound of his sister's name made him stiffen, his heart contracting before he pushed himself up onto his elbow and stared down at Harald with widened eyes. "What did he say? Has he seen her?" His eyes flickered rapidly between Harald's, brows twitching when Harald released a small chuckle.

"He told me Olaf went looking for her in Jomsborg.. and she slaughtered him and his men. She rules Jomsborg as its leader and lives there.. with her seven-year-old child. A boy, or so he's heard." 

"A boy?" His voice trembled softly with his words and his mouth clamped shut, the surprising feeling of tears beginning to sting the corners of his eyes. "Freydis has a son? She- She's a mother now, oh, Gods." A laugh tumbled free from his lips, giddy and relieved yet full of longing.

The last time he'd laid eyes on his sister had been when they parted ways in the sea. She stood on the boat alongside the rest of the Jomsvikings, her wild blonde curls tumbling over her shoulders and swaying with the wind, one hand raised to wave goodbye at them and the other cradling the barely notable bump in her belly.

He'd feared what laboring would do to her body for he'd bore witness to mothers dying while having their children.. but his sister, his darling warrior of a sister, lived.

"Nothing can kill Freydis." (Y/N) laughed, slightly delirious, and slumped back onto the bed to stare up at the stone ceiling. His chest rose and fell in short breaths, a newfound urge to seek her out enveloping him. "I have a nephew... and may the Gods help whichever fool ever dares to bother that boy." He laughed again and raised his hand to his necklace, rubbing his fingers into the soft thread. 

Harald's eyes crinkled with fondness and he leaned in to kiss his cheek, his thumb rubbing over his jawline delicately. "I'm certain you'll see her again one day. You will see her and Leif and Greenland again. I know it."

(Y/N) willed it to be true. There was only so much of Constantinople he could stomach any longer.

                    ➸        ➸       ➸       ➸       ➸       ➸

In Greenland, where the chill was neverending and trees were a rare sight, they made a living from the sea that resided at their feet. They tossed nets out for fish in shallower waters but the real challenge were the creatures that resided in the darker waters beyond the cliffs. His father insisted on him learning the way of hunting animals like seals and narwhals, how to carve into the flubber and get to the tender meat inside.

Nothing was left behind in Greenland. Everything was cooked and eaten, worn, or traded and sold. They couldn't afford to waste anything. 

But in Constantinople, things were much different. It made (Y/N) uncomfortable. Most of the people who wished to be his friend knew nothing of struggling through a harsh winter or standing in the howling winds with a spear and knife hoping to catch something while the threat of your fingertips turning black like coal battled with hunger and desperation. 

His friends enjoyed the luxuries though, and he enjoyed watching them laugh and smile. They drank the finest of wines, recounted tales of glory while nibbling on exotic fruits and vegetables, and toyed with clothes made from the nicest and most expensive fabrics. They could spill juice on the tunics and brush it off or turn to the nearest servant and request whatever they wanted. They deserved it. They knew of struggle. 

But struggle made (Y/N). It was one with him.

He stared out at the expanse of ocean, his attention focused on the boats coming and going and thoughts occupied with worries over Leif. His brother was capable of taking care of himself, but he'd never needed to do it alone. Not when he had (Y/N) at his side, his shadow, his forever follower. It'd only been a few days since Leif's departure yet worry ate at him like a pestering seabird. 

He brought the cup of wine in hand to his lips but barely tasted the tart flavor as it trickled down his throat until there was nothing left. His tongue collected the last droplets and he finally turned away from the sea to rise from his seat and set the empty cup down on the table. Harald appeared at his side, doing similarly with his empty cup.

Before he could speak, a servant approached them with a small bronze chest and set it down at the table. The servant smiled politely and bowed his head, turning swiftly on his heel and leaving their silent questions unanswered. Harald grunted softly, his lips twisted up into that bitter jealousy of his, and he reached out to open the chest. 

Two gold-colored masks stared up at them from their spot within the chest, undeniably identical in size, color, and shape. They were small enough to only cover their eyes with black strings to tie them securely to their faces and rested over a long strip of paper.

(Y/N) stared down at them with furrowed brows, the gears in his head halting whilst his face twisted up into a look of perplexion. Harald picked up one of the masks and retrieved the paper but it only had an illustration of a mask on it. 

"It seems Zoe wishes to see us both this time," Harald murmured and curled his hand into a fist, crumpling the paper before tossing it onto the table. He studied the mask for a moment longer. "We shouldn't keep her waiting, should we?"

(Y/N) blinked. "But-"

"Come on, (Y/N)," Harald offered him the mask and took the second one for himself, his lips curling into a wolfish grin. His hand found (Y/N)'s wrist and squeezed it gingerly. "Where's your sense of adventure?"

The sun began to set behind them by the time they stepped out of Harald's home and onto the street, shadows biting at the heels of the light while they roamed the streets in search of something similar to the symbol on the paper. The sun bid them farewell and disappeared below the horizon, leaving night to consume the torch-lit streets and illuminate the city for them. 

While he expected the city residents to be in their homes, they stumbled upon a sparse masked crowd laughing and chatting, some swaying with signs of intoxication and others giddily heading in the same direction. Harald shot him a grin over his shoulder and dragged him along, following the others to an open door guarded by two soldiers in golden helmets that covered their faces. 

His gut told him to return home when he recognized the soldiers as General Maniake's men but when he turned back to Harald, he'd already stepped inside and slipped his mask on. Tentatively, (Y/N) followed him inside and placed the mask over his face, slowly tying it behind his head and looking over the crowded room as festive music filled his ears.

Everyone seemed comfortable as if they knew what was going on, and he could only assume it was a less formal celebration of their victory.

People danced and spun and lifted each other into the air with howling laughter and cackles. Entertainers were scattered across the room, some privately entertaining behind sheer curtains while others juggled or did tricks that were answered with claps and cheers. The air was thick, and being around so many people made his heart pick up with unease. 

"Har-"

(Y/N)'s eyes darted around in search of Harald but he only made eye contact with unfamiliar eyes and faces hidden behind masks. He dodged one woman who attempted to pull him into a dance and shook his head when a masked servant stopped by to offer him an array of drinks on a tray.

No matter where he looked or in which direction he turned, Harald was nowhere in sight. Everyone looked too similar in their masks, their faces and clothes distorting into one. 

It was only when a rough hand tightly grabbed his bicep that (Y/N) was snapped out of his daze. His head spun toward the person, expecting to see Harald but the man's mask covered his whole face.

He made an attempt at pulling his arm out of his grip, words forming on the tip of his tongue to reject whatever he was going to offer, but the man's grip tightened threateningly. 

"Viking," Maniake's voice filled his ear, bitter and resentful with a hint of malice. (Y/N) swallowed. "I will allow you one act of mercy. You will not wish to see how far your 'friend' will go for power. Run now, or face a similar fate, Pagan."

[bjornswoman]

Vikings Masterlist

Bjorn Ironside

Mine

Afraid of losing you

Heart's healer

His night

Precious

Arrows

Blue piercing eyes

I love you

Zinnia

False promises

Ubbe

His dark side

Jealous

Secret

Just listen

His bride

Sick girl

Little girl

My enemy and me*

Hvitserk

Goddess

One of his women

Betrayed

Best friends

Crazy and mad

Lies* (remake) / Lies*

Fake wedding

Worth it

My prisoner

Ivar the Boneless

Mad about you

Last night, Back to you

Break

Feelings

Crimes of love

Games and conflicts

Jealous girl

Right person wrong time

Photograph

Toxic I, II

Destruction*

Harald Finehair

Promise

Allies

Live for me

Free with you

Shieldmaiden's secret

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Common Knowledge 4

Warnings: non/dubcon, power imbalance, bullying, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: Geralt of Rivia, Harald Halfdansson, tall & plus-size reader

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

With your thesis proposal submitted and marked, the real work lies ahead of you. You’ve claimed your spot in the library, a stack of cue cards with your arguments laid out in columns. It’s the easiest way to sort out your information and narrow down your key arguments. It’s a bit messy but you like the visual diagram to parse out your own thoughts.

You receive a few shaded looks from those who pass by looking for a spot of their own. You don’t mind moving over if they do want to sit but none approach. You bend over the table and switch two cards. You’re standing, circling the table as you’re swept up in getting just the right flow.

You back up and hum. You grab another card, jotting down a new point to add and a sudden slam makes you jump. The thump of the large book on the table sends the cards scattering in a whirlwind. You sputter as you look up at the figure across from you.

You can’t hide your surprise. It’s been a week since the smoothie shop incident and not close to long enough. That man stands on the other side of the table smirking, his white eyes eerily calm but smug. What are the odds he’s a student here?

You shake your head and roll your eyes. You step forward and start gathering up the cards. Your dorm room bed would be just as good as a table. As you reach to swipe up a card, he grabs it first and reads your writing, letting out a scoff.

“Hmm, how cute,” he muses, “you’re trying.”

You ignore him. Whatever, he can keep the cards. You close up your books and slip them into your bag. He plants his hands on the table and leans forward, gaze boring into you.

“Running away again?”

“Do you not know how to take a hint?”

“As much as you,” he counters, “I just wanted to show you that I found a copy of my own.”

You glance at the book in the middle of the table and furrow your brow. Really? This is some weird battle you don’t want to fight. You blow out between your lips and keep tidying up your things. Your laptop is closed and slid away before you can nab it.

You grip the edge and try to pull it from his grasp. He easily dislodges it and tucks it under his thick arm. You hiss and look around, flabbergasted. You turn your frustration around and reach for that coveted book. He stretches his other arm in front of you, blocking you as he looms closer.

“Not so fast,” he holds his large hand up, “would you stop and listen?”

“I’m not interested in listening to you,” you puff out, “give me my computer.”

“Would you let me say what I came to say–”

“Bro, no. How did you even find– you know what? Don’t care. It’s weird. And creepy. Give me my computer and leave me alone. I’ll scream.”

“Relax, you’re being dramatic.”

“Dramatic? You want to see dramatic–”

“Would you stop?” His voice rises, drawing looks from a few other students and some hushes. His throat bobs as he peers around, “I’m trying to apologise, alright? I thought…” his eyes meet yours with almost a sheepish tint, “I’d buy you a coffee and we could talk about mythology.”

Your lashes flutter as you try to keep your eyes from rolling so far back they get stuck. You don’t know that you’ve ever met anyone so oblivious. College has introduced you to several characters but nothing like him.

Your mouth falls open and you shake your head. You step forward and latch onto your laptop. He lets you take it. You’re very aware he could keep it from you easily. For all his flaws, he is clearly in good shape.

“I’m trying not to laugh in your face,” you back up and put the book into your knapsack, “so I’ll be very honest and clear with you. You are the most rude, obnoxious person I’ve ever encountered. Free coffee couldn’t even make me spend a single second with you.”

He grits his teeth as his jaw squares, the cleft deepening as he tilts his head. His frustration is laced in confusion. His eyes search you.

“Oh,” is all he manages to get out.

“Right, so, goodbye.”

You swing your bag over your shoulder and snatch your jacket from the back of the chair. You go to step by him and he moves with you. You are actually about to scream.

“Can’t we start over?” He asks.

How many ways can you say no?

You look left and right and your eyes meet an unexpected pair. Oh, you’re not sure if that’s good. Professor Halfdansson raises his hand to give a small wave as he diverts his strut in your direction. You clamp your lips together and turn back to the man in front of you.

“I don’t think so,” you say bluntly.

“Ah, studying are we?” Halfdansson approaches, coming up perpendicular to you and Geralt.

“Uh,” you look between them as the professor gives a thoughtful look to the other man. “Just leaving.”

“This is a friend?” He wonders.

“No,” you answer as Geralt says “yes.”

You have to hold back a snort. You don’t get this. Any of it. Neither of these men seem to have any sort of self-awareness. At least not a concept of reality.

You bite your tongue and rein in the smart retorts flashing through your mind. You make yourself smile, or at least try to muster one. You take a deep breath.

“I have to go,” you say crisply. “Excuse me.”

Geralt is kept at bay by the presence of your professor, though Halfdansson appears astounded by your abrupt dismissal. You’ll have to apologise in class but most importantly, you need to get this goddamn paper done. Without a man hovering around and distracting you.

[procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics]

Vikings (TV) Masterlist

my requests for vikings are currently partially OPEN! please only request imagines, and not oneshots. for those waiting for a continuation of ‘searching home’ or ‘unexpected’ i am so sorry... finishing those two is going to take me a while :/

hmu/msg me to be added to a taglist!

main masterlist | request guidelines

heorte til heorte

(msg me to be added to the taglist!)

relationship: athelstan x alethia stahl (oc) | summary: alethia wanted to go home, to return to her family. instead, she finds herself in ninth-century england. not speaking the language, and still processing the grief of her other life, she searches for an anchor - athelstan. | tags: angst, fluff, timetravel

masterlist | preview | read on ao3

No romantic relationships // character x character

Queendom - relationship: Lagertha x Aslaug | summary: They’ve both loved and they’ve both lost. Perhaps it was time that their hearts warmed again. | tags: angst, fluff

The Lothbroks, aka, the European version of the Kardashians - relationships: none | summary: When Barbie Murray time travels, she finds out that pink isn’t available in Viking times. Luckily, her new besties all understand that boobs are the best and slay (literally?!) with her. | tags: crack, fluff, timetravel

I may be a bimbo, but I’m not stupid - relationships: slight oc/ oc | summary: Ivar kills Sigurd in a fit of rage, but Barbie isn't so quick to forgive cruelness. | tags: angst, crack, timetravel

1st gen Vikings

Strange Woman  relationship: Rollo x timetraveler!reader | summary: The woman that appeared out of nowhere could be oh so dangerous, but even a stupid man would know that she was fascinating. | tags: fluff, timetravel

Friend of Thor - relationship: rollo x timetraveler!asgardian!reader | summary: The reader, a fellow Asgardian and friend of Thor and the new King of Asgard, Brunnhilde, falls through worlds as the new guardian of the Bifrost tampers with the magic. | tags: crack, fluff, timetravel

And the Gods wished they were me - relationship: Judith x viking!gn!reader | summary: Judith knows she should not mourn Athelstan. Nor should she even look at Norse heathens. She does both anyway, because Judith was named after a woman that had only rage and death, and she cannot escape her fate. | tags: angst, fluff

Ubbe Ragnarsson

Another day / part 2 - relationship: Ubbe x reader | prompt: we live to fight another day. | tags: angst

Oldest - relationship: Ubbe x timetraveler!reader; platonic!Ivar x reader | summary:  It seems that few things change about being the oldest sibling, no matter which place – or time | tags: fluff, timetravel, slight angst

Yggdrasil relationship: Ubbe x reader; platonic!Ivar x reader; dad!Harald x reader | summary:  How can you tell your father what happened to you when he’d done it to so many others. | tags: angst, dark/gory

Hvitserk 'Whiteshirt' Ragnarsson

Hvitserksdottir - relationship: Hvitserk x reader | prompt: “I think we need to talk about the fact that I’m in love with you and also that I’m pregnant.” | tags: angst, fluff

Floki’s Cabin - relationship: Hvitserk x reader | prompt: “Just trust me. Please. | tags: angst

Searching Home / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 - relationships: Hvitserk x reader; Ivar x reader | summary: When you stumble upon the ancient Spanish city of Algeciras, it takes you some time to realize that you’ve traveled through time. While that is terrible luck, a merchant couple takes you in. But your peace only lasts so long. | tags: angst, fluff, dark/gory, timetravel

Neither - relationship: genderfluid!reader x Hvitserk | Summary: Hvitserk finds out about genderfluidity and accepts he might not be completely straight | tags: fluff, timetravel

Law of conservation - relationship: Hvitserk x reader | summary: You’ve been working as a tutor at your high school for about a year now. When your parents throw a barbecue party for your new neighbors, their mother Aslaug asks you to tutor her son Hvitserk, who is already a notorious flirt at his school. | tags: fluff

Sandcastles - relationship: platonic!hvitserk x timetraveler!reader | summary: reader builds sandcastles, Ivar doesn’t get it and Hvitserk loves the idea of it | tags: fluff, timetravel

When in Bali... -  relationships: hvitserk x reader, ivar x freydís, sigurd x oc | summary: You were supposed to go to Bali with your partner for your one-year anniversary. Instead, you’re there alone, heartbroken. Will reuniting with a friend you know from a summer vacation in elementary school be able to fix it? | tags: fluff

Ivar 'the Boneless' Ragnarsson

Unholy Matrimony - A Sham in Four Acts / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 - relationship: Ivar x reader | prompt: I’ve learnt to love you. | tags: angst, fluff smut

Insatiable Little Heathens  - relationship: ivar x reader | summary: drabble, for all of y’all who wanted more of Unholy Matrimony | tags: fluff

Resolve - relationship: ivar x reader | summary: Ivar’s legs hurt but he’s so fucking thickheaded | tags: fluff

My kind of witch - relationship: ivar x reader | summary: You wake up in an unfamiliar bed. The man with blazing blue eyes fascinates you as soon as you see him and as you realize the struggles he faces every day, your admiration for him grows into something more. | tags: fluff, timetravel

Red - relationship: ivar x reader | summary: Ivar finally meets his match. | tags: smut, dark/gory

Serve - relationship: sub!ivar x buff!reader | summary: Ivar keeps teasing you. You finally have enough and give him a taste of his own medicine | tags: smut

Searching home / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 -  relationships: Hvitserk x reader; Ivar x reader |  summary: When you stumble upon the ancient Spanish city of Algeciras, it takes you some time to realize that you’ve traveled through time. While that is terrible luck, a merchant couple takes you in. But your peace only lasts so long. | tags: angst, fluff, smut, dark/gory, timetravel

Totally artistic -  relationship: ivar x reader | summary: When inspiration hits, you can’t stop it | tags: fluff

Sandcastles - relationship: platonic!hvitserk, ivar x timetraveler!reader | summary: reader builds sandcastles, Ivar doesn’t get it and Hvitserk loves the idea of it | tags: fluff, timetravel

Brother - relationships: ivar x reader, hvitserk & reader, reader & oc | summary: You left your home and your brother behind for a reason. Now, a man is causing trouble at the borders of Kattegat, and as Ivar's queen, you take justice into your own hands. | tags: fluff

Unexpected / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 - relationship: ivar x thrall!reader | summary: Ivar finally decides to fuck the slave he’s been eyeing for so long, but when his angry side slips out, things take a turn for the wholly unexpected. | tags: smut

Tarot -  relationships: ivar x reader, hvitserk & reader | summary: Your day at the fair has been pretty slow – until a client like no other shows up. | tags: fluff

Imagines

How the Vikings would react to an accidental time traveler and a quiz to see if you’d survive: https://uquiz.com/dVXpgW

Ragnarssons (+Gyda): First Kiss

Social Media 

How the Vikings would react to guns and snapchat filters 

How the Vikings would react to modern dancing 

How the Vikings would react to modern music, and what they’d like

How the Vikings would react to modern concepts of astronomy and space 

How the Vikings react to modern haircare 

Vikings and Astrology

How Vikings would react to THEM timetraveling

Vikings + getting sick 

Vikings + Halloween 

Vikings + realizing you’re pregnant

Vikings characters + how they'd react to finding Accidental Time Traveler crying somewhere and not knowing why 

Vikings + you on your period  (+ more hcs about Ivar)

Vikings + Legos

Vikings + reader being much less stressed in their time

Vikings + single mother

Vikings + Gender Neutral Thor

Vikings + modern food

Vikings + touch avoidant cuddler

Vikings + Kids

Vikings + their history

Ragnarssons + being possesive

Vikings + Maleficent/Fae!reader

Vikings + curls and afros

Vikings + sleeping habits

Vikings + contortionist/super flexible reader

Vikings as modern!uni students

Vikings + affectionate drunk!reader

timetraveling!Vikings + modern tv/movies

Vikings + gen z slang

Vikings + curly haired kids

timetraveling!Vikings + Christmas

Vikings + eras other than their own

Vikings + ivar being remembered/famous

[borathae]

Constellations

"Even after all these centuries of living, they can experience something new with each other."

Pairing: Taehyung x Jungkook

Genre: Comfort Smut, Slice of Life Romance, Falling in Love!AU

Warnings: they're normally vampires but 'cause of magic they currently aren't, just read the mainstory to understand tbh lmao, a romantic date by a bonfire, romantic conversations & daydreams, soft Dom!Taehyung, sub!Jungkook, Tae is the biggest service Dom ever, Koo is so sensitive hihi, body worship, so many words of adoration, gentle touches, lots of sighs and whispers <3, frotting, lots of kissing, a gentle rim massage, cumming together, cuddles & snuggles, this is so romantic :(

Wordcount: 9.7k

a/n: i genuinely love this universe so much holy fuck :( also, big shoutout to @ahyeonah for helping with the French translations hehe thank you queen 💜 and another sidenote, italic in this chapter indicates that they're talking in Korean

《 Bonus Smut to this 》

Taehyung finally comes back after having excused himself to go outside. Jungkook looks at him over the edge of his book, closing said book a moment later. He uses his thumb as a bookmark. He had been able to watch the older man scurry around the kitchen and hurry outside multiple times.

“You’re back”, Jungkook says, “where were you? ___’s grandparents already went to bed. Also, you missed one round of Uno.”

“That is alright. It is a terrible game, way too complicated. I always lose. Horrible”, Taehyung says dismissively and gives the dark haired man an excited grin, “I prepared something outside. Do you perhaps want to see?” 

“Is that why you kept going to the kitchen?”

“Perhaps.”

“Sure, I want to see”, Jungkook says and stands up from the couch to follow Taehyung outside. He used a pen as a bookmark, abandoning the book on the coffee table.

“May I? It is quite chilly outside and I wouldn’t want you to freeze”, Taehyung offers a jacket to Jungkook.

“Oh? Yeah okay, thanks”, Jungkook says giddily, smiling to himself when Taehyung helps him put the jacket on. 

The latter ends it with a caress to his upper arms and a kiss to his shoulder. 

“You look so handsome.”

“Thank you, Tae.”

“Come now, I shall show you what I have prepared.”

“I really wanna see”, Jungkook says and together they leave the house. 

Taehyung takes Jungkook’s hand once outside, leading the way. The latter was looking around the garden at first, but flusters when Taehyung intertwines his fingers with him. He glances at him, flustering even more when Taehyung gives him a sweetest smile. 

Taehyung leads him to the shed and then Jungkook can already see what he prepared. A bonfire. With blankets and pillows to get comfortable on. 

“Wow, you built a fire?” he gasps.

“Indeed I did.”

“It’s so cozy here. Wow, look at all the pillows. Wow Tae, you put so much effort into this.” 

“I really did”, he bounces excitedly, “do you like it?” 

“Of course I do.”

“I, I thought that today was such a wonderful day and you made me feel so good and I wanted to end it with something romantic.”

“It’s so romantic and so cozy.”

Taehyung glows upon being complimented, giggling excitedly. He gestures Jungkook to sit and so he does. Taehyung kneels down in front of him, shoving a charcuterie board into his vision.

“So that’s what you were doing.”

“Indeed. It is the only thing I can truly make. I hope you like cheese.”

“I do. It looks really pretty.”

“Thank you. Wine?”

“Sure.”

“I asked Harald for their oldest wine. I hope you enjoy red wine. Cheese must be enjoyed with a good red wine.”

“I like red wine. Thank you, that’s enough for the beginning.”

Taehyung prepares his own glass as well.

“Do you like to drink?”

“Yes, in moderation obviously.”

“Of course. I do not enjoy the taste of most alcohols, however, I quite enjoy the taste of wine.”

“It fits you.”

“It does?”

“Yeah. Wine’s elegant.”

“You believe me to be elegant?” Taehyung gasps.

“Yeah.”

“Oh”, he blushes, “thank you.”

“You’re cute”, Jungkook says and lifts his glass, “cheers.”

Taehyung clings glasses with him.

“To this relationship.”

Jungkook smiles, “yeah, to this relationship.”

They each take a sip, enjoying the full taste of it on their tongue.

“It is very good. The grape truly fills the taste and it leaves the tongue with an almost floral sweetness. Do you enjoy it as well?” 

“Yeah, it’s good”, Jungkook scoffs, “you talk so fancy sometimes. It’s not bad, but I can’t talk like this about wine.”

“Oh worry not, the way you talk is perfect. I am aware that I talk, well, that I talk rather strangely sometimes. I learned English during a time where such speech was common and I never really rid myself of it.”

“I like it. At first I thought that you were obnoxious and it annoyed me, but I like it these days. You would sound really weird if you talked differently all of a sudden.”

“I can talk in more modern ways. Oh heavens, I attempted to talk without the accent but failed miserably. I can talk modernly? Is that how the young people would say it?”

Jungkook laughs, “just stick to your ways, you old sock.”

Taehyung chuckles, lowering his eyes shyly.

“What other languages can you speak?” Jungkook asks.

“Oh heavens, far too many. English of course, French as well as German. I can also read Latin and Greek and know the lost language of Nilrem.”

“How do you know this language? I never heard of it before and I know that nobody really does in the common world.”

“I have many friends who are witches, but there were also times when Namjoon was…well, he was kind in his ways. Jimin and I lived side by side with him without having to fear for our safety and during such times, we liked to exchange knowledge. He taught us the language. He called it the original language of magic, but never told us that he was present when it was still used.”

“I see. Damn, I didn’t think that he would do such a thing.”

“I must admit that thinking back, such times feel very unbelievable in comparison to all the agony he allowed to happen to us.”

“I’m sorry, Taehyung. You didn’t deserve any of it.”

“Thank you, but may we talk about something else please? I do not want to spoil this night.”

“Of course. So you can speak six languages?”

“Oh heavens, no. I can also speak Spanish and Italian and spent quite some time in Portugal as well, although my Portuguese is a little rusty these days”, he confesses in a chuckle, “my mother language however is Korean, I still think in it sometimes.”

“Oh Korean? Of course it’s your mother tongue. It’s mine as well”, Jungkook says in their native language.

“You speak Korean as well?” Taehyung answers him in it.

“Of course, I do. I grew up speaking it and still talk in it with Hoseok and Seokjin-hyung when we’re alone.” 

“Oh Jungkook-ah, I feel so happy to know that you haven’t forgotten our language.”

“Me too. It’s been so long for you though, I’m surprised that you didn’t forget.”

“I almost did. Jimin reminded me of it when I met him. When we are alone, we only speak in it.”

“I get that. It’s nice to speak in a familiar language. Although I gotta admit that English feels like my second native language these days. I think in it and dream in it.”

“Yes, I agree. For me it is English and French.”

“French? Say something then.”

“Say something?” Taehyung lowers his eyes playfully, leaning closer until his lips brush Jungkook’s ear. 

Jungkook shivers, listening to the unfamiliar words and finding it very hard to concentrate. Taehyung’s voice is deeper when he speaks French, carrying a seductive romance to it.

Taehyung finishes his sweet whispers with a kiss to Jungkook’s jawline, straightening up.

“What did you say? All I understood was mon chèri.”

“Your company is brighter than any fire and your kiss tastes sweeter than any wine, my darling.”

Jungkook nudges Taehyung’s chest.

“Shut up, oh my god.”

“No, or how I would say it in French, no.”

Jungkook laughs, Taehyung laughs with him.

“You’re funny.”

“Thank you”, Taehyung says and takes a slice of cheese to eat it deliciously, “mhm, you must try the cheese. It melts on your tongue.”

Jungkook follows his lead, eating it with a frown.

“Mhm, it’s good.”

“Isn’t it? Oh Kook, I appreciate a good charcuterie board a lot. There is such romance in it. To prepare food for your loved ones, to present it artfully. There is no greater show of appreciation in my eyes.”

Jungkook smiles shyly, “you think so?”

“I do, yes. You told me that this is your first experience with queer relationships.”

“Yeah, you and Yoongi. Although, you’re definitely romancing me harder. No hate to Yoongi, he is very sweet when we’re alone and I feel really loved by him, but you are definitely romancing me harder.”

“Well, I want to make the first experience special for you. Which is why I prepared all of this. I want to make it special, I really do.”

“Tae, god”, Jungkook says, sagging his shoulders in fond defeat.

Taehyung takes Jungkook’s pointer finger shyly, “do you…uhm, is it how you wished your first queer relationship to go?” 

“I honestly didn’t really think about it a lot, but it’s definitely really nice. You’re so sweet and romantic, I like it.”

Taehyung relaxes, gazing at him.

“Shall we make rules?”

“Rules? Tae, I told you no control. You’re free with me.”

“I know, I know. It is not about control, I just”, he sighs in defeat, “I regret the way I treated you in the beginning. How I ran off to have blood orgies with Fringella or how I fucked around with strangers. I thought nothing of it as I have always lived my relationships in such ways, but it must have been painful for you.”

“It definitely was, but we already talked about it.”

“Well despite all that, this is your opportunity to voice your rules. ___ and I have rules as well. Do you wish me to stay in our polycule? Do you have any problem with me seeking out one night stands? Do you want me to be purely loyal to you and ___?”

“Oh that. I guess, the way it is right now is good for me. I don’t mind when you have one night stands. They’re definitely not something for me, but I know that you like them.”

“I can stop them if you wish me to.”

Jungkook shakes his head, “don’t change like this, I really don’t mind. One thing though, don’t abandon me during parties without saying anything and if you do want to use it as a sexual hunting ground, warn me beforehand. Also, if you ever make me watch you have sex, don’t let me witness you getting roughed up. It would make me so angry.”

“Angry?”

“I’d just wanna fucking protect you then.”

Taehyung flusters, touching his chest where his heart fluttered. He lets a shy giggle escape, meeting Jungkook’s eyes.

“But”, Taehyung pouts, “you cannot tempt me with a good time. What if I want you to get angry in sheer protectiveness?”

Jungkook laughs, “you don’t wanna see me angry, trust.”

“But I did, it’s the very reason why we are here now.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, “you’re silly.”

“Silly for you, yes.”

“Tae, is the wine working?”

“Forgive me. No, I am just, I am merely…oh heavens, all this talk about you watching me have sex and using a party as our sexual hunting ground affected me.”

“It affected you?”

Taehyung looks at Jungkook’s lips. Jungkook looks at Taehyung’s lips.

“It did?”

They inch closer, craving the others’ kiss.

“It did.”

Taehyung closes his eyes, Jungkook cups his cheek. With a gentle push, Taehyung falls to his back, allowing Jungkook to climb his lap. Taehyung writhes under his weight, finding it hard to breathe normally. Jungkook sits on his thighs right under his crotch. Taehyung begins to crave his weight on it, gazing at Jungkook with blown out pupils.

“You’re so silly, Tae”, Jungkook whispers, straightening up and therefore denying him of his kiss.

“Don’t tease me, please.”

Jungkook chuckles, caressing his chest.

“I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.”

Jungkook smiles, but says nothing else. Instead, he looks to the side and picks up a piece of cheese to snack on. He bites it off in the middle, guiding the other half to Taehyung’s lips.

The latter opens his mouth and sticks out his tongue, trying his hardest not to whimper when Jungkook places the cheese on it. 

Their connected gazes never break as they chew the cheese, only once Jungkook studies the charcuterie board again does it finally break.

“Everything looks so good. I don’t know what to try next”, Jungkook says, keeping one hand on Taehyung’s chest and using the other to point at the different cheeses. 

“You should try Brie with grapes.”

“Then I’ll do that”, Jungkook shoves both into his mouth and chews, “mhm!”

He widens his eyes, looking at Taehyung.

“Do you enjoy it?” Taehyung asks breathily. One more second pinned down on this blanket and he might die from heart palpitations. He is so ardently in love with Jungkook that it is difficult to stay calm when he is caging him in. 

“It was savoury at first and then the grape burst and it got juicy and sweet. It tasted really good.”

“Didn’t it? I know how to enjoy cheese.”

Jungkook picks up Brie and a grape to guide it to Taehyung’s mouth.

“Open up.”

Taehyung follows, holding his breath. He never knew that his heart could flutter so incredibly much. 

“Good job”, Jungkook praises softly and feeds Taehyung.

He closes his lips around Jungkook’s fingers, sucking on them for a few seconds before he releases them and chews the cheese. Jungkook seems flustered and mesmerised by the gesture, staring at Taehyung’s lips.

He runs his hands over his chest mindlessly. Each touch leaves goosebumps behind.

“I can’t believe I hated you once”, Jungkook says quietly.

“Did you truly hate me?”

Jungkook feeds both of them a piece of cheese, then continues to talk while Taehyung is still chewing. He also sips on his wine occasionally, feeling the effect more and more. It is warm and makes him feel cozy.

“I hated all of you. Alpha, I mean. We always knew that you also lived in town and that humans never returned from your estate. At least that’s what we thought happened. I don’t think that Yoongi ever allowed humans to die willy-nilly on his grounds.”

Taehyung shakes his head.

“We still thought that all of you were bad vampires and when we heard that you infiltrated the university, we instantly joined as well so we could keep an eye on you.”

“Did you also convince the head mistress in quite magical ways?” Taehyung asks with a mischievous gleam.

“Do you really think someone like me could have managed to get in honestly?”

“Yes.”

Jungkook blinks in confusion. He didn’t expect this answer.

“You are intelligent and a hard worker. You are also a diligent person, who learns very quickly.”

“Oh. Wow, thanks”, Jungkook murmurs, lowering his eyes shyly.

“I mean it.”

“I know, thank you seriously”, Jungkook smiles.

Taehyung gazes, “but I assume that you also used compulsion to make it seem as if you had been students all along.”

“We did, yeah. Seokjin did all of it and he hated it, but we had to do it in order to keep watch. You know”, Jungkook chuckles, “if you asked me, it was so obvious that we weren’t students. The courses we attended made no sense major wise.”

Taehyung laughs, “mine did neither. I simply went with whatever sounded most interesting.”

“Same. That is if I was even present. I had to realise very soon that there were too many people around me.”

“I see. The scents.”

“Exactly.”

“I’m sorry, Jungkook.”

“Don’t. I feel better these days”, he assures him and smiles, “cheese?”

“Yes, please.”

“Any wishes?”

“Perhaps a slice of cheddar with onion chutney?”

“Sounds yummy. There we go, open up.”

Taehyung lets it happen with a dizzy head. What is happening to him? Can a heart truly feel so much for just one person? How do humans survive under such conditions? How do they not scream and screech from the intensity of such emotions? 

Jungkook, oblivious to Taehyung’s overwhelmingly fond gaze, chews on his piece of cheese with his big eyes racing over the dark night. And Taehyung wonders how many times he can call him beautiful before the younger man grows annoyed by it, but then he remembers Yoongi’s words. How there is never too much love, but only the wrong receiver.

“You are beautiful.”

Jungkook looks at Taehyung. His eyes are widened in surprise.

“You are beautiful”, Taehyung repeats it and it feels so good to do.

Jungkook smiles, lowering his head shyly.

“You’re beautiful too, Tae.”

“You are so immensely beautiful.”

“You’re just as beautiful, Tae”, Jungkook says and leans down to kiss his cheek, “you softie.”

He straightens up, smiling at him with soft eyes as his fingers trace his chest mindlessly.

“You are so beautiful.”

“You’re beautiful too.”

Jungkook scrunches his nose and giggles, “I like it when you’re like this.”

Taehyung might truly scream. His heart feels at its limits. It is racing so unbearably much that the word “racing” feels rather unworthy to use. What is faster than racing? Because whatever it is, his heart is currently doing it. Yoongi was right. There is never too much love, just the wrong receiver and Jungkook is the right one. 

“Why did you guys infiltrate the university either way? Were you planning on turning everyone?” Jungkook asks him then, still oblivious to Taehyung’s ever-growing feelings.

“Boredom.” Taehyung has to clear his throat before he can continue. The feelings were just too much. “It is truly as simple as that. We were fed up with our life and we wanted a change. Except for Yoongi, who only joined because he needed to make sure that we wouldn’t cause too much trouble.”

“Poor Yoongi. I bet he hated every second of it.”

“Why do you think that he was such a grumps at all times?”

Jungkook laughs, “you’re mean.”

“I am merely saying.”

“Yeah, yeah whatever. God”, Jungkook sighs and smiles fondly, “to think that the only person who actually got in legally was ___”, he hesitates for a moment, squinting his eyes in suspicion, “unless you guys had something to do with it.”

“Oh goodness, no. We had no knowledge of her existence. She managed to get in all on her own.”

“Wow, she’s so cool.”

“She truly is. You know, she allowed me to read the paper which granted her the scholarship and I must say that it is truly remarkable. She always undermines her intelligence and talents, despite being incredibly gifted.”

“I know, it’s so sad that she does that. She told me about her parents and what they did to her. I think they made her have such little confidence in herself.”

“I know. I truly cannot stand these people for the way they treated her.”

“Me neither. We have to hype her up a lot to show her how awesome she is.”

“Hype her up? What is that?”

“You don’t know what hyping up means?”

Taehyung shakes his head, “is it similar to complimenting someone?”

“I guess? I don’t know, I guess you can compare it to cheering someone on and giving them confidence through nice words.”

“I see, well that is a very positive word then. We shall hype her up even more from now on.”

Jungkook chuckles, “you old sock”, he teases, nudging Taehyung’s chin. 

“Hey! It is not my fault that the youths these days think up so many new words. I can simply not keep up.”

“Okay, okay fine”, Jungkook laughs, “you’re so old. I get it.” 

Taehyung pouts, “you are mocking me.”

“Yeah, I am.”

Taehyung’s pout grows. Jungkook wipes it away with his thumb, gazing at the older man fondly.

“It’s cute. I like how out of date you are.”

“This isn’t as much of a compliment as you think it is”, Taehyung complains, but laughs as he does it. 

Jungkook scrunches his nose, laughing with him. 

“Yeah, I kinda realised how mean that sounded. Sorry.”

“I forgive you”, Taehyung jokes. He feels happy right now. Honestly happy. 

Jungkook picks up a piece of cheese and snacks on it, following it up with some wine. Taehyung props himself up on his elbows and drinks from his own wine glass. 

“Cheese?” Jungkook offers. 

Taehyung opens his mouth and allows him to feed him, gazing at him the entire time. 

“Grape too?”

He nods his head. The fruit tastes sweet, but nothing beats the sweetness of happiness Jungkook allows Taehyung to taste with every smile.  

“Did you date when you were at university?” Jungkook asks.

“Not seriously, I mostly hunted for one night stands and short love affairs.”

“I see. That fits how you were back then.”

“It does. Oh, I was so unlikeable.”

“You really were. I couldn’t stand you at all”, Jungkook snickers, making Taehyung giggle.

“I am grateful that I changed.”

“Me too.”

Taehyung gazes at him, touching his thighs gently.

“I assume that you didn’t date either?”

“Oh hell no”, Jungkook scoffs, “I barely even went to class because all the smells were overwhelming to me.”

“I figured”, Taehyung places his hand on Jungkook’s waist, “I watched you sometimes.”

“You did?” Jungkook gasps.

Taehyung nods his head.

“On the rare occasions when you were present during rugby training, I sat by the oak trees.”

“The really old ones west of the field?”

“Indeed.”

“No way, I never noticed you there.”

“I hid quite well.”

“Wow, you creep”, Jungkook is laughing, “and you watched me?”

“Well, I watched the other men as well, but whenever you were present, my eyes only lingered on you. I truly wanted to have you.”

“Tae, oh my god”, Jungkook flusters, “why did you never approach me?”

“I truly wanted to. So one day, I followed you. I had my mind set on approaching you, but then I watched you get into Hoseok’s Beetle and everything fell into place. That the reason you were rarely present was because you were Jeon Jungkook, the young Ripper who is friends with the other two Younglings. Oh, my heart was shattered on this day because I believed you to be human until this point.”

“Oh god, I’m sorry”, Jungkook snickers, “you can be glad that you found out before talking to me though because I knew exactly who you were and with how out of control I was back then, I would have jumped at you.”

Taehyung laughs.

“Then I can be truly glad that I never approached you.”

“Yeah”, Jungkook agrees playfully.

They share a moment where their eyes get lost in the other’s and only the crackling of the fire can be heard. Taehyung, who has been feeling overwhelmingly in love with Jungkook, flusters first, averting his eyes to the sky.

“You can see so many stars here.”

“Mhm?”

“The stars are endless here.”

Jungkook gets off Taehyung’s lap, lying down next to him. He lets his eyes travel over the vast sky and the countless stars flickering far away.

“You’re right. They’re endless. Do you know your zodiac?”

“Pig.”

“That’s cool. Do you know your Western one too?”

“Oh? Forgive me. I am a Capricorn. Why?”

“Well you see, I’m actually a really big nerd for astronomy. This over here is my zodiac. Virgo.” 

He shows him the sign in the stars, tracing its shape with his finger.

“Truly?”

“Yeah and over there is yours”, Jungkook says, tracing Capricorn into the sky. “It’s the smallest constellation of the zodiac, but I think it’s really pretty. Its brightest star is called Deneb Algebi with a magnitude of two point nine.”

“Magnitude?”

“It’s basically how bright a star shines.”

“I see. And the brightest star in my zodiac shines with two point nine magnitude?”

“Exactly. Capricorn is also the zodiac with the softest shining stars. Deneb Algebi is Arabic and means tail of the ram. It’s this one here.”

“I see”, Taehyung speaks softly.

“It’s a very pretty star. I know a lot about stars, I really do.”

“I never knew that this is my zodiac”, Taehyung whispers, gazing at the stars with sudden awe. For the longest time, the stars meant hell to Taehyung. To die and yet continue to burn. To never find peace and rest. He felt like this for a very long time. He died and yet continued to live in hell with peace so very far away.

“Yeah, it’s pretty cool isn’t it? Over there is ___’s zodiac and I don’t know Yoongi’s so I can’t tell”, Jungkook explains, painting shapes in the sky Taehyung had never noticed before, but which are so overwhelmingly obvious to him now that Jungkook shows them to him. The stars have meaning, they create art. They glow and burn and with it, they create pictures for all living beings to gaze upon. The stars aren’t hell. They are art.

“They are beautiful”, Taehyung whispers shakily, holding back his tears.

“Right? I think so too. I always loved the stars. They brought me great comfort when I was still alone.”

The parallels steal Taehyung’s air. To think that there was a time where he and Jungkook looked at the stars at the same time and while Jungkook found comfort in them, Taehyung found sadness in them. The same view and yet it was received with such different hearts.

He looks at Jungkook. His dark eyes reflect the galaxies, his cheeks are glowing. He looks so happy, so utterly content. His life was filled with such tragedy and sadness and he still carries honest happiness. Taehyung admires this about him as much as he envies it. More than anything however, he is happy for him. And so utterly in love.

Such different hearts and still, they somehow managed to find each other.

Taehyung swears to finally show Jungkook his atelier and then take him to his secret library. Jungkook has never been in these rooms before. Time spent together was simply too short, life only recently calmed down. There was no chance for Taehyung to show Jungkook his rooms, but if he knew how much the younger man loved the stars, he would have shown him sooner. 

“I painted the stars once”, he tells him.

“You did?” 

“I did. I must show you once we are home. I still have the painting in my atelier.”

“Yes, I’d really like that”, Jungkook says, oblivious to what waits for him, “I think your art is really good. I bet your stars are so pretty.”

“If everything was different back then, do you believe that we could have fallen for each other?” Taehyung asks him quietly.

Jungkook looks at him. He didn’t expect this topic change. Taehyung’s eyes are glassy and filled with love.

“What do you mean?” Jungkook whispers.

“If we were normal and human back then, do you believe that we could have fallen for each other?”

“I don’t know. I think you would have been a total art nerd and I’d have been a stupid jock. Maybe we never even would have met.”

“No, I believe that we would have. I truly cannot see you as a mindless jock. You speak of constellations and the beauty of stars. You paint and draw and you enjoy music. Your heart is too gentle and filled with too much art for you to have been a mindless jock.”

“So I would have been an art nerd too?” Jungkook jokes to which Taehyung chuckles.

“Perhaps. Or perhaps you would have studied astronomy.”

“Thank you, you’re really sweet. You really are”, Jungkook whispers, looking at the sky with flushed cheeks, “would we have met as humans? I seriously can’t tell, but I hope that we would have.”

“Yes, me too.”

“I still think that I’d have been a total sports nerd. I really like sports.”

Taehyung laughs, “well then, you would have been a sports nerd and I would have been an arts nerd.”

Jungkook chuckles, “that sounds like us.”

“Perhaps one night it would have happened that it would have just been you and I left at school and as we ran into each other, I would have been scared that you would hit me. Because all sports majors would have been straight, homophobic jocks and I would have been scared that you would use this opportunity to beat me up.”

“Tae, what are you doing?”

“Hear me out.”

“Okay?”

“And you would have been cold at first, because you would have caught me staring at you during training once, but then I would have accidentally dropped my books and began picking them up so clumsily that you would have felt pity for me and so you helped me and, and our hands brushed and after we both stood up, you wouldn’t have been able to control yourself anymore and so you would have grabbed me and kissed me and then took me in an empty classroom until I would have been shaped just for you.”

Jungkook shifts, gulping heavily. His heart is racing like crazy. Taehyung’s little fantasy is affecting him.

“It would have felt so forbidden because up until this point, you didn’t want to admit that you were bisexual and so you would have taken out your frustration on me until I clutched your shoulders and wailed into your neck because you would have brought me to my limits and yet my body still would have craved for more of you.”

“Stop talking, oh my god.”

“Why? Do you not like it?”

“I do.  A little too much.”

“Too much?” Taehyung glances at Jungkook’s crotch.

The latter notices, covering himself.

“Tae please, I don’t wanna take advantage of you, don’t make it so hard to resist.”

“It is not taking advantage when I wish the same thing.”

Jungkook swallows heavily. Taehyung rolls to his side and begins touching his hip. Jungkook chases the touch, breathing speeding up.

“Do you wish to know what would have happened after this night?” Taehyung asks with big puppy eyes.

“Maybe.”

“You would have driven me home and taken care of me and afterwards we would have sat on the sofa and talked with some cheese and wine. I would have realised that you are the sweetest man I had ever met and you would have grown fond for me. So fond in fact that you wouldn’t have been able to keep your hands to yourself from this day forward. But you would have done it secretly because you wouldn’t have been ready to come out yet. So we would have fucked in private, on the backseat of your car, after classes, the empty locker rooms, the abandoned atelier rooms.”

“Holy fuck, Tae. It’s so hot to think that we’d have been a secret.”

“It is. I am very affected by this.”

“Me too.”

“Did you ever fuck a man when you were human?” 

“No, I always wondered what that would feel like.” 

“I never fucked a man as a human either.”

Tension fills the silence. The day they shared was so wonderful and bonding, the night by the fire is warm and so excitingly private. Their hearts couldn’t be more intertwined with each other as they are today, the tension might finally be too much to bear. 

“We’re human right now”, Jungkook whispers. 

“I know”, Taehyung whimpers, grasping his hip.

“Do you…”

Taehyung nods his head vigorously. Jungkook props himself up on his elbows so he could rest himself over Taehyung. Taehyung lies back down as he does it, grasping his buttocks unapologetically. Jungkook lets him, eyes racing between Taehyung’s.

“We could share this first tonight”, he whispers.

“Kook”, Tae moans, chasing his kiss, “are you certain? Do you really want me?”

“I do. So much. Do you want me too?”

“Yes, yes please I do”, Taehyung begs and hooks his arms behind Jungkook’s head to pull him into a kiss.

Jungkook moans shakily, finding it difficult to match Taehyung’s rhythm. Not because the older man is sloppy, no, because Jungkook is so utterly overwhelmed by the feeling of getting to kiss him. 

He wasn’t aware of how deeply affected he already felt, but it is finally getting so clear to him that he finds it difficult to breathe. Not that humans can really breathe when their faces are melted together for a kiss. Both men soon have to find out as their lungs ache for air. They break the kiss at the same time, panting for air while their lips still try to taste the other. They keep their eyes closed. 

Jungkook is the one to go back in first, cupping Taehyung’s cheek while the other runs his fingers over his scalp. The kiss is already more heated than before. The tension is too big for it not to. Taehyung opens his mouth, asking for Jungkook’s tongue. 

The latter breaks the kiss to breathe, speaking against his lips in an affected rasp.

“Did you ever kiss a man as a human before?” 

“Not like this, please kiss me again please”, Taehyung begs, twisting his hair gently.

“I wasn’t kissed either”, Jungkook sighs, giving into the electric pull. Their tongues finally tangle, the kiss becomes even more intense. They taste the wine on each other’s tongue as much as they taste the growing hunger for more. 

Hands soon begin roaming the valleys and hills of the other’s body, breaks for air are short but countless, moans soon begin to fill the silence. Their jackets come off as well, laid abandoned by the fire as they have each other to keep warm now. The touches begin to truly overwhelm them now that such little clothing was between them and their skins. They start panting and mewling into the kiss, matching each other’s neediness as much as they try to out-mewl it. The day has been long already and the two men are finally at their breaking point. All they exist for right now is each other. In both an emotional sense as much as in a sinfully carnal sense.

The next time the kiss breaks, they know that they won’t be able to kiss anymore. At least not before having taken the next step.

“I want more”, Taehyung gets out breathlessly, feeling up Jungkook’s waist.

“Me too”, Jungkook confesses, rubbing Taehyung’s chest.

“We don’t have lube a-and I didn’t warm up or clean out”, Taehyung stutters. 

“I know, me neither”, Jungkook answers him out of breath. 

“We are human. It won’t work how it does in the real world.”

“I know.”

The realisation that they won’t be able to connect as deeply as they could, aches for both of them, but the desire to be with each other is too big to let it soil the mood. 

Jungkook sits up and takes off his shirt, throwing it to the side. Taehyung looks at him with a dizzy head. Even as a human, Jungkook is so perfectly muscular. Jungkook climbs onto Taehyung’s lap. Taehyung sits up to touch his chest. He outlines it with his fingertips, following his touch with his eyes. His skin is golden because he is human, the fire makes it glow amber. 

“Your skin has the colours of sundowns right now”, Taehyung whispers, meeting Jungkook’s mesmerised eyes. 

Taehyung traces his abs and the paths of his pecs, faltering when he reaches his nipples. Jungkook gives him silent consent with an arch of his back. He touches them. Jungkook moans, parting his lips and writhing on his lap. 

“Your torso is a landscape I want to wander in for hours.”

Jungkook smiles softly, sighing in blissful pleasure. Taehyung’s gentle touch and his poetic words truly work on someone as hopelessly romantic as Jungkook. 

Taehyung looks at his lover’s chest again because he felt his nipples harden under his touch. He exhales shakily. They are so dainty and perfect, standing against his amber skin in darker colour. Goosebumps cover the skin of his chest. 

“Are you cold?” 

“It feels so good.”

Taehyung’s heart flutters. Overtaken by adoration, he slides his hands to Jungkook’s side and pulls him closer this way, lowering his lips to his right nipple so he could lick and kiss it. Jungkook gasps for air, squeezing his legs together as best as Taehyung’s lap allows him to. Taehyung’s mouth is so warm around his nipple, in comparison to the chilly night air it truly steals his breath. 

The intensity of the sensation grows when Taehyung releases his right nipple to worship his left instead and his once licked nipple is left in the cold air. Jungkook misses the warmth of his mouth, as much as he enjoys it on his other side. He closes his eyes, shivering immensely. 

Taehyung feels the shivers as well, lifting his head to check up on him. Jungkook opens his eyes slowly. Even with the orange shine of the fire, Taehyung can see the pink flush of his cheeks. 

“It is too rare that we get our nipples worshipped, isn’t it?” he whispers, massaging them with his thumbs slowly, “it is always a woman’s delight, but rarely that of a man.”

Jungkook agrees with a shy sigh. Taehyung’s touch feels so good that he can barely think of what to answer him. 

“I want to pay attention to the parts which get overlooked. I may not have slept with a man as a human, but I had countless male lovers as a vampire. I am a man as well, I know the male body blindly, yet…” he meets Jungkook’s eyes again, “…I didn’t get the honour of learning yours yet.”

“Tae”, Jungkook gets out, having to gasp repeatedly. He was never promised to be treated like this before. So fully freed of gender roles, so entirely like a human. 

“Can I learn you?”

“Yes.”

Taehyung smiles, heart skipping a beat.

“Show me where to touch you. I want to learn each path to take.”

“Oh god, Tae”, Jungkook lets out, feeling really giddy right now. His head is getting foggy. Taehyung managed to switch the roles with just his poetic words. They truly are witchcraft to Jungkook’s romantic heart. 

“I shall listen”, Taehyung promises, lowering his lips to Jungkook’s right collarbone, “mon chèri. Mon beau chèri.” 

Jungkook sighs, touching his arms for support. He can’t tell where he likes it most because his skin is currently so sensitive that every spot feels incredible. Or perhaps it is because no one really adored his collarbones before and Jungkook can’t handle attention to them. 

“You have such beautiful collarbones, mon chèri. So delicate”, Taehyung whispers, tracing them with parted lips. 

“Tae”, Jungkook whines, writhing away. 

Taehyung looks at him, “does this spot not please you?”

“It does, it’s just a lot.”

“In uncomfortable ways?”

Jungkook shakes his head, “good ways. It feels so good. So good.” 

Taehyung smiles softly, lowering himself again, “what about this spot?” 

His lips begin their adoring dance along Jungkook’s shoulders. From his left, along his collarbones and neck, to his right. He falters for a moment, looking at what felt so different against his lips. A scar. 

“Is this where your arm ripped off?” he asks him, tracing it gently.

“Yeah. It’s uhm, it’s silver in the real world. I, I don’t know why”, Jungkook stutters, tingling like crazy from the kisses Taehyung leaves on his scar. 

“It is magical. A reminder what the curse couldn’t repair. Jimin has the same scar on his chest and back from where Namjoon ripped his heart out.”

“That makes….sense…aahm…” Jungkook sighs, falling into warm bliss.

Taehyung is getting lost in kissing him again, taking on his way back and repeating his journey. Over and over until Jungkook is arching his back and sighing Taehyung’s name. 

“Is this good for you?”

“Yes, so good…”

“And this?”

Taehyung guides his kisses down Jungkook’s right arm, showing his lips their way with his fingers. And Jungkook is gasping. He was never kissed along his arm before. He was touched, groped, held but never kissed. Never adored. Never worshipped. His body feels weakened, he can’t stop Taehyung from turning his arm so his inner wrist was bared to him because of how foggy he makes him feel.

Taehyung lingers on it, kissing and licking it slowly. Jungkook squirms, letting out a squeak followed by a nervous laugh. Taehyung slows down, gazing up at him in question.

“Tickles.”

“Mhm, mon chèri”, Taehyung sighs and turns Jungkook’s arm again to kiss each of his fingers and knuckles. 

Jungkook closes his fingers around Taehyung’s hand. Once again, this never happened to him before. He doesn’t know what to do, how to handle all of this. All he knows is that he is starting to feel vulnerable in familiar ways. He only gets like this when someone is helping him fall into subspace. Jungkook isn’t scared of the implications, enjoying the fall with a racing heart.

Taehyung lifts his head only to lower it again to Jungkook’s left arm. No inch should be left unkissed. He is so immensely in love with Jungkook’s body. There aren’t many people who ever made Taehyung say this. He always appreciated a beautiful body, but whenever he did, it was based on desire. Not with Jungkook. There is no desire motivating him, only love. And the hope that Jungkook will feel the appreciation he deserves to feel. 

He lifts his head once each knuckle was kissed. Jungkook is clutching his hand so tightly, breathing heavily with his cheeks flushed.

“Did this feel good?”

“So good”, Jungkook gets out, “Tae I-”

“Yes?”

“I’m sensitive there.” Jungkook guides his fingers to his lower stomach on the part just above his hip bones. “There.”

Taehyung exhales shakily. He is starting to relax and feel comfortable in showing his spots. This is exactly what he wanted to happen. He wanted to allow Jungkook to fall into a comfortable headspace, to let go of societal expectations and simply enjoy being loved. 

“Yes? Do you wish for me to kiss it?” 

“Yes, please.”

“May I fix you?” 

“Yeah.”

Taehyung picks him up to lie him down on his back, sitting down on his lap. Jungkook’s head rests on a pillow, his hair is messy this way. His chest heaves up and down quickly, his eyes are foggy in submission.

“Are you comfortable?” Taehyung makes sure, fluffing up the pillow before combing his fingers through his hair.

“Yeah”, Jungkook whispers, feeling small and vulnerable. 

“That is good to hear. Relax, mon chèri, relax”, Taehyung whispers and lowers his lips to the spot Jungkook showed him before.

Jungkook moans his name loudly, grabbing his hair and arching his back. His legs tremble, his toes curl. He expected anything but for this to feel so good. The intensity is as if Taehyung sunk him deep into his mouth, as if his most pleasurable spots were being stimulated. Jungkook has to gasp just as much, dropping on the blanket only so he could arch his back again. And again. And again. 

Taehyung feels out of breath as well. This is the moan of a man who is finally loved right. This is the moan of a man who is treated as a person. This is the moan of a man who has discovered his favourite spot. Taehyung feels patches of wet excitement soak his briefs. Jungkook turns him on so much. His kisses however are still placed with love not desire.

Jungkook soon pulls him away, writhing on the blanket.

“Stop please. Stop.”

“Are you still comfortable?” Taehyung asks him softly, holding still for now.

“It’s, it’s a lot. I, I was never- this is the first time I’m kissed there.”

“I figured. It can be very overwhelming to be touched on a sensitive spot. You did very well for your first time”, Taehyung praises, “may I reward you with kisses to your stomach?”

“Yes, please oh god”, Jungkook allows him, parting his legs. He wishes for his pants to magically disappear and for Taehyung to take him in whole. 

But Taehyung isn’t ready yet. Well, he is, but he merely doesn’t want to yet. He wants to show Jungkook that it is also possible for men to feel breathless in desperation. That it is also possible to be truly turned on. Getting hard is easy for a man, it doesn’t take much and because it is, his pleasure is so often overlooked. Taehyung wants to show Jungkook how much it is possible to get aroused as a man. That a hardened cock is not the highest form of desperation a man can experience. 

He dances his hands up and down, left and right on Jungkook’s stomach, guiding his fingertips along his paths and following it up with his lips and tongue. Jungkook’s stomach is so perfectly sculpted and such hard work needs to be adored and worshipped.

“You are beautiful. So beautiful.” 

Jungkook has to writhe again. He needs to stop him. It feels too good. 

“Stop, please.”

Taehyung soothes the shivers by kissing a path up to his neck to worship it instead. Jungkook whines, rolling his head to the side as far as possible to make sure that Taehyung gets every inch. 

“I can feel your heart race”, Taehyung whispers to which Jungkook merely keens and writhes. Taehyung kisses up and down along his jugular, taking in the sensation of his pulse. “It is so wonderful to feel how it affects you. You are so beautiful, everything about you.”

“Tae”, Jungkook has to stop him again. Everything is just too much. He pushes at his arms, arching his back.

“Do you still feel comfortable?” Taehyung asks him, soothing him by combing his fingers through his hair.

“Fuck me please. I, I can’t do much more.”

Taehyung smiles, “yes, you can. Relax, mon bel amour. Just relax.”

Jungkook melts into the blanket, fluttering his lashes. His eyes are so hazy, his cheeks so red. He has enough general knowledge about languages to understand Taehyung’s nicknames for him and they are weakening him. He is his beautiful love. 

“That’s it, relax mon amour”, Taehyung whispers and lowers his lips back to Jungkook’s neck. He kisses him with love and gentleness, leaving no inch untouched until he magically happens to be back at the spot above his hip bone. 

Jungkook shakes instantly, moaning so freely that Taehyung has to moan with him. This must feel like heaven to him. Such moans are normally only leaving him when he is pleasured in more obvious spots. Taehyung pays even better attention to it, wanting him to feel heavenly for as long as possible.

It feels like heaven to Jungkook. It does. Perhaps it feels even better than heaven. Taehyung’s big hands are on each side of his waist, warming him and making him feel so utterly cocooned in safety. Taehyung’s body touches the inside of his legs each time Jungkook tries to close them. They remind him how easy it is these days to give in to Taehyung. But what truly ruins him are his lips. He always knew this spot was sensitive, but it is insane how intense it actually is.

“Take them off please”, Jungkook begs with no control over his own words. 

“Your pants?”

“Yes, please”, Jungkook mewls, lifting his hips eagerly.

Taehyung doesn’t waste any time. He takes off his pants and boxers, placing them aside carefully. Jungkook’s length stands throbbing instantly, begging for attention. Taehyung gazes at it. It is smaller than in the real world and Taehyung wants to taste every inch of him. His tip is glistening in the fiery lights, his veins cast shadows. 

“You are beautiful.”

Jungkook rolls his hips up, begging for his touch.

“You are truly so beautiful. Every inch of you.”

“Hyung, please.”

Taehyung glances at him. His cock throbbed in his pants at the sound of this beg. Jungkook knew what he was doing, using their native tongue for it. He is actually desperate enough to forget every language but that of his childhood. 

“You are so beautiful”, Taehyung whispers and lowers his lips to Jungkook’s foot. He already got him to a point of utter desperation, but he doesn’t want to rush it. It would be unfair to his lower body not to be adored. Taehyung loves every inch of him and he needs to show it. He kisses each toe, each instep, each ankle and sole before he finally moves up to his shin and calves.

“Mon bel amour, oh how I cherish you”, he whispers.

Jungkook whimpers, twisting the blanket. He doesn’t know how much more he can handle. He was turned on before, but not like this. He can’t even think straight anymore, nor properly breathe. He wants it to be faster and yet last forever. Jungkook doesn’t know what to do now that he is so properly turned on. 

Taehyung moves on to his thighs, starting on the outside and working his way to the inside. One by one. Jungkook sobs his name with the first kiss upon his inner thigh, ripping his legs open so widely one could worry he might pull a muscle. 

“Is this a wonderful spot for you?” Taehyung asks, tracing it with his tongue and fingers.

“Yes”, Jungkook coughs out, fucking the air, “please.”

“My beautiful chèri, oh mon beau.”

“Please, oh god please. Please”, Jungkook gasps out.

More kisses to his thighs lets him know that he won’t be released. His hand acts against his will. He grasps his own length, jerking it quickly.

The loud whimper he releases because of it, makes Taehyung look up. 

“Hey”, he gasps, stopping him instantly. It is embarrassingly easy to drag his hand away. “What are you doing?”

“I, I need to be touched. I can’t do this anymore.” 

“But, you’re a good boy. You don’t do such things “

Jungkook shudders, “I’m sorry”, he cries, “I’m sorry, Sir.”

Taehyung melts. His heart races. He helped Jungkook into subspace. It was already known to him, but has it finally confirmed. With just his touch and romantic words, he helped him shed any kind of shame. Jungkook is so honestly him right now. 

“Don’t apologise, you are still my good boy. My goodest boy”, Taehyung praises him and sits back, “now make me proud and hold still.”

Jungkook nods his head vigorously, humming an enthusiastic yes. 

Taehyung undresses hastily at first, but falters once it comes to his briefs. He glances at Jungkook. Something in his eyes makes Jungkook want to sit up and hold his waist for support. He does so with a dizzy head.

“You’re beautiful”, he whispers, painting adoration onto Taehyung’s features.

“So you noticed my hesitation.”

“I did. Is everything still okay with you?”

“More than alright. I am simply just silly.”

“Silly? Why?”

“Please don’t laugh at me.”

“Why should I laugh at you?”

“I am not big. I, I am only that big because of the vampirism.”

“That’s okay. I’m only human too.”

“You are beautiful as a human.”

Jungkook smiles, “I’m sure you are really beautiful too.”

Taehyung blushes. He finally feels confident again. He takes off his briefs, looking at his own cock instantly. Jungkook moans, gazing at him. 

“What if I try? Maybe I can do it”, he argues because everything inside him begs to have Taehyung fill him. His cock is just as hard as his own, glistening in the shine of the fire. Its size is so human, so manageable. Jungkook craves the weight of it inside. 

“I don’t want to hurt you. Human bodies are so stiff and fragile”, Taehyung says even if he craves the warmth of Jungkook. 

“I’ll try to relax.”

“And we’ll use what as lube?”

“I don’t know, spit or precum.”

“Don’t be silly. Human bodies aren’t made to function with such weak lubricants.”

“But I want you”, Jungkook gets out shakily.

“I want you too, but I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

“It’s not taking advantage when I want it.”

Their eyes meet. He is repeating Taehyung’s own words back at him. They share laughter. 

“Oh Jungkook-ah, you mean so much to me”, Taehyung lets out, falling around his neck.

“Hyung”, Jungkook whimpers, sinking into his embrace. 

“Lie down with me, please.”

They lie down, heads sinking into the pillows and limps tangling. They are both on their sides, facing each other. Well, they are falling into a kiss. A deep, passionate kiss. Taehyung keeps his arms hooked behind Jungkook’s head, while Jungkook’s right hand grabs Taehyung’s hip to pull him closer. He throws his leg over his waist, grinding his hips into him just to make it feel a little like penetration. At least the movement is the same even if the warm stretch is missing. 

The kiss breaks messily. Jungkook moans heavily, Taehyung answers him with parted lips. He drags his shaky hand out of Jungkook’s thick hair, guiding his fingers to Jungkook’s lips. The latter takes them in without hesitation, sucking and licking them as if they were cock. He doesn’t open his eyes for it. Taehyung doesn’t either. They are completely lost in the moment. 

Soon Taehyung pulls out, sticking his fingers between Jungkook’s buttocks to rub his hole.

“Hyung”, the submissive younger moans, faltering in his grinds as his brain short circuits. Taehyung is massaging him, drawing circles and applying enough pressure to make it tingle.

“Does this feel good?” Taehyung asks breathily.

“Yes”, Jungkook whimpers, nodding his head. He grabs Taehyung’s hair, “please”, he breathes out, “please don’t stop.”

“I won’t”, Taehyung finally opens his eyes to gaze. He meets Jungkook’s hazy, drugged out eyes. “I exist to pleasure you, mon chèri.”

“Hyung”, Jungkook convulses, “it feels so good.” 

“It does. You feel so good. So incredibly good.” 

“Why does it feel so good? Oh god”, Jungkook whimpers, shuddering as another wave of electricity courses through him.

“Enjoy it, mon amour. You deserve it”, Taehyung whispers, feeling drugged out. This is the kind of state he wanted Jungkook to be in. Disbelief over how good the pleasure feels. This is what he should experience. His beautiful darling boy. 

Jungkook, overwhelmed in pleasure and with his heart barely wanting to keep up, slides his hand between their bodies to touch himself. His cock ached so much, he needed relief. 

What he hadn’t calculated in was Taehyung’s length being so close to his’ and so it happens that his trembling fingers wrap around Taehyung’s length as well. 

“Yes”, Taehyung, who believes the frotting to be planned, sighs and rolls his hips into the touch, “yes, oh Jungkook, ah.”

“Hyung”, Jungkook whimpers, picking up a rhythm. It might have been a mistake at first, but he doesn’t want to fix it. Their frenulums are grinding together, their shafts are too and their flushed tips are getting messy in shared slick. This is the best mistake he ever made.

He tightens his grip around them, concentrating his touches on their tips because it feels best there. It brings Jungkook terribly close to his orgasm, but he doesn’t want to stop. Being with Taehyung like this feels too good. He doesn’t want to lessen the pleasure for even one second.

“You are heaven. My darling heaven”, Taehyung sighs and rewards Jungkook with a faster rim massage.

Jungkook falters. The touch burns him too deep. He gasps and gasps, arching his back so their stomachs touch even more. Their cocks grind against each other in his shaking hold, the movement makes Jungkook gasp even more. 

“Fuck, you’re beautiful”, Taehyung presses out.

Jungkook peels his eyes open, meeting Taehyung’s adoring gaze. The older smiles, carrying honest love in his eyes.

“You are so beautiful”, he whispers.

This is it. The moment Jungkook realises that he is also in love with him. 

“Please don’t break my heart again”, he begs in a whimper, spilling tears as his body trembles in ecstasy.

Taehyung pulls him closer and wraps his hand around a bundle Jungkook’s hair, sending shivers down his spine. The pressure around their cocks is increased as well this way, the fingers on his hole are filling him up just a little. So close. They are so close this way. Jungkook curls his toes and twists Taehyung’s hair, having to moan because nothing could have prepared him for this moment.

“Your heart is safe with me”, Taehyung whispers in their native tongue.

“Promise me.” 

“I promise. You are my north star, Jeon Jungkook.” 

“Taehyung”, Jungkook chokes out and sobs, “you’re making me cum.”

“Don’t hold back, my north star. I will follow. I promise.”

“Taehyung. I love you”, Jungkook wails, breaking apart as his heart has finally reached its breaking point.

Taehyung spills tears instantly. Jungkook said it. He loves him too. He loves him.

“I love you too”, Taehyung croaks and follows Jungkook with a sob. Jungkook’s hand stops working around their lengths, but they make up for it with desperate rolls of their hips. Their shared mess smears all over their lengths, spilling on their tummies as well. It is so warm. So magical. So right. In this moment, their spilled pleasure has one single purpose. To show their deep connection. 

They are both immensely out of breath after their shared high, hugging each other for comfort. Both their hands are messy, but Jungkook doesn’t care, pulling him closer as his tears don’t seem to stop. He is in love with a man and it feels so right. He finally understands Taehyung. It feels so good to be queer. It is so right. 

Taehyung’s own tears don’t stop, but their reasons are different. He is in love with a man who loves him back. He is in love with a man who won’t hurt him. He is in love with a good man. And it is in such ways where Taehyung won’t have to hold back on his intensity of love because he likes it when he is romantic. Taehyung feels as if something in his life is finally going right.

They don’t get dressed for a while after they calmed down, cuddling under a second blanket as the fire slowly dies down. And as they cuddle, they exchange kisses and smiles and boyish giggles because the night is just too wonderful not to fill it with happiness.

“I love you, I love you, I love you”, Taehyung keeps repeating the words over and over again. In every language he ever learned and Jungkook answers him in giggles and whispers of adoration.

“How are you?” Taehyung asks him, cradling his cheeks as his sparkling eyes race over his face obsessively, “are you feeling alright? Did you enjoy it? Are you happy?”

“I’m so happy, it was so good”, Jungkook answers him, lulling his words because he is so far gone in a giddy, droopy headspace.

“Oh Jungkook, I love you”, Taehyung croaks and hugs him, “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

It won’t be last time he chants his most favourite words and Jungkook loves every single repetition.

[thezombieprostitute]

Masterlist

By AU

Biker AU - Fate (Curtis Everett)

Coffee Shop AU - Barista!Steve Rogers

College AU - Tenure (Charles Blackwood, Curtis Everett) - Tutoring (Ari Levinson, Bucky Barnes, Lloyd Hansen)

Corporate AU - Tech Tuesdays (Multiple characters)

Fairy Tale AU - Magic (Jefferson/Mad Hatter)

Flower Shop AU - Flowers in Storms (Lee Bodecker)

Mafia AU - Changing Minds/Constant Change (Nick Fowler) - Dream Come True /Nightmares (Curtis Everett) - Hummingbird /Dragonfly (Steve Rogers) - Sparks Fly/Frayed (Mace)

Maid AU - Cleaning Up (Jonathan Pine)

Omegaverse - Alphas & Algorithms (Curtis Everett) - Beta!Reader (Bucky Barnes, Hal Carter)

Royal AU - Sir Everett (Curtis Everett)

Soulmate AU - All Your Lovin' (Captain Syverson) - Alpine (Bucky Barnes) - Lloyd's Soulmate (Lloyd Hanson) - Sleepy Surprise

Werewolf AU - Prologue (Hal Carter, Jake Jensen) - Werewolf Steve (Steve Rogers)

By Character (characters I've written more than a couple stories for)

Bucky Barnes

Curtis Everett

Hal Carter

Jake Jensen

Lloyd Hansen

Nick Fowler

Steve Rogers

Character Reactions

I need kisses

Tell me I'm pretty

Holiday Stories

Christmas - Baby's First Christmas (Curtis Everett) - Music in the Air (Bucky Barnes) - 'Tis the Season, Sir (Steve Rogers) - Last Christmas (Nick Fowler, Hal Carter)

Halloween - Laughingstock (Dark!Steve Rogers)

Valentine's - Lloyd's Valentine (Dark!Lloyd Hansen)

Miscellaneous

Always the Bridesmaid (Jonathan Pine, Nick Fowler)

Bad Day (James Mace) - Bad Day Alternate (Dark!Ari Levinson)

Bets (Bucky Barnes, Jake Jensen)

Bittersweet (Dark Skinny!Steve)

Cops and Robbers (Lee Bodecker)

Dandelion (Hal Carter)

Done This 100 Times (Mordecai)

Grumpy Days (Multiple characters)

In the Woods (Chris Beck, James Mace)

Missing You (Johnny Storm)

Museum Tours (Steven Grant)

Panic Attack (Walter Marshall)

Pen Pals (God the Bounty Hunter)

Photos (Jake Jensen)

Receiving Affection (Multiple Characters)

Retaliation (Dark!Jake Jensen)

Self-Care Weekend (Bucky Barnes)

Selkie Story (Mace)

Stickers (Bucky Barnes)

Stuck (Ransom Drysdale)

To the Rescue (Kyle "Gaz" Garrick)

Inspired by Others

Alpha to the Rescue (unnamed character)

Andrew's Downfall (dark!Andy Barber, dark!Lloyd Hansen)

Angry Ari (Ari Levinson)

At the Gala (Multiple Characters) - After the Gala (Harald Finehair)

At the Gym (Unnamed SStan character)

Bouquet Event Masterlist (Multiple Characters)

Charity Auction (Multiple Characters)

Detective vs. Mafia (Clark Kent, Steve Rogers, Walter Marshall)

Don't Open the Door (Curtis Everett)

Global Warming (God the Bounty Hunter)

Ice Cream (Hal Carter)

Jealous (Nick Fowler)

Kidnapped (Multiple Characters)

Quiet Night (Bucky Barnes)

Royal Security (Nick Fowler)

Sacrifice (Demon!Lloyd Hansen)

Secret Crush (Lloyd Hansen)

Speed Dating (Jonathan Pine, Lloyd Hansen)

Too Old? (Unnamed Character)

Unexpected Guest (Curtis Everett)

[ivanseledkin]

Bluetooth technology was named after Harald Bluetooth, a Viking king who died over 1,000 years ago. He unified factions of Denmark with those in Norway, similar to how today's technology unifies different electronic devices. The Bluetooth logo combines Nordic runes for his initials - H.B. The origin of his nickname is debated; some sources suggest he loved blueberries, staining his teeth, while others speculate a dead tooth caused a dark blue/grey hue.

[ealdormanink]

Tales Under Northern Stars

Halfdan the black x female reader! Vikings era. A/N: Please excuse any mistakes - English isn't my native language! PS: I love Halfdan sooo much! Vikings / The last kingdom oneshot requests are open! Feel free to send your ideas 💕

Flames danced in the hearths of Kattegat's Great Hall, casting long shadows against wooden walls stained dark with years of smoke. The clash of drinking horns and bursts of laughter echoed through the warm air, heavy with the scent of mead and roasted meat. She sat on one of the wooden benches, her fingers tracing the rim of her drinking horn while warriors around her boasted of their latest raids.

Harald Finehair's voice boomed above the others, his elaborate braids swaying as he gestured wildly, telling tales of his conquests. Yet it was his brother who drew her attention. Halfdan lingered at the edge of the gathering, his thoughtful eyes scanning the crowd over the rim of his drinking horn. Unlike his brother's elaborate appearance, Halfdan's simple leather tunic and quiet demeanor spoke of a man who preferred observation to spectacle.

"You there!" A deep voice cut through the noise. "The one from foreign shores. What tales do they tell in your lands?"

Heads turned. The leather of her seat creaked as she shifted, lifting her chin. Her fingers stilled on the drinking horn.

"In my lands?" The corner of her mouth curved upward. "In my lands, we speak of creatures that would make even your dragons seem tame."

A low murmur rippled through the crowd. From his position, Halfdan's head tilted slightly, his attention caught like a hawk spotting movement in the grass.

Someone thrust a fresh horn of mead into her hands. The sweet scent wafted up, mixing with the smoky air.

Her voice carried across the hall as she wove her tale. She spoke of waters that turned to mist without warning, of creatures with teeth longer than swords that could snap a longship in half. Her hands carved shapes in the air, drawing invisible maps of treacherous waters and distant shores. The flames in the hearth seemed to dance with her words, casting ever-shifting shadows that brought her monsters to life on the wooden walls.

The sound of boots against wooden floorboards drew closer. Halfdan had left his corner, finding a seat within arm's reach of her. His eyes never wavered from her face, dark and intense like the depths she described.

The last words of her tale hung in the air like morning mist over the fjord. Before the spell could break, Halfdan leaned forward, the firelight catching the sharp angles of his face.

"These waters you speak of," he said, his voice lower than his brother's but no less commanding. "Have you sailed them yourself?"

She met his gaze. The flames reflected in her eyes matched the ones in the hearth. "Some secrets," she replied, lifting her drinking horn in a subtle salute, "are only shared with those patient enough to discover them."

His lips curved into a half-smile, a challenge accepted in the quirk of his eyebrow.

The crowd's attention shifted as Harald called for music, his voice carrying over the din. Drums began to pound, their rhythm matching the crackling of the flames. Around them, people moved to clear space in the center of the hall, benches scraping against wooden floors.

"Your stories," Halfdan said, shifting closer until the fur of his cloak brushed against her arm. "They speak of dangers, yet your eyes show no fear of such creatures."

She turned the drinking horn in her hands, watching the mead catch the firelight. "The most dangerous creatures I've encountered walked on two legs, not fins."

A low chuckle rumbled in his throat. "And yet here you sit, among warriors and raiders."

"Here I sit," she agreed, meeting his gaze. "Perhaps I find danger... interesting."

The drums grew louder. Harald's voice rose above them, calling for his brother. Halfdan's jaw tightened, a flash of irritation crossing his features.

"Brother!" Harald approached, his elaborate braids swinging with each step. "Why do you hide in corners when there's celebration to be had?" His eyes fell on her, a knowing smile spreading beneath his beard. "Ah, though perhaps you've found better entertainment than what I offer."

She rose from her seat, the movement fluid and deliberate. "Your brother was just about to tell me of his own adventures at sea." Her eyes found Halfdan's. "Unless, of course, he fears his tales might pale in comparison to mine."

Harald's laughter boomed across the hall. Halfdan stood, his height bringing him close enough that she could see the flecks of gold in his dark eyes.

"My tales," he said, voice low enough that only she could hear, "are better shared away from my brother's ears." He gestured toward the open doors of the hall, where stars glittered above the sleeping village. "Perhaps you'd care to hear them under the sky your monsters swim beneath?"

Behind them, Harald called for more mead, already distracted by the festivities. The drums continued their steady rhythm, but their beat seemed distant now, secondary to the quiet tension stretching between her and Halfdan.

She took a step toward the door, then paused, looking back over her shoulder. "Lead the way, poet. Show me if your words can capture the night as well as they capture attention."

The night air bit at their skin as they stepped outside, a stark contrast to the hall's warmth. Few torches lit the pathway, leaving the stars as their main source of light. She walked slightly ahead of him, her steps purposeful despite the slippery frost beneath their feet.

"You never answered my question," Halfdan said, matching her pace. "About sailing those waters."

She arched an eyebrow. "Perhaps I didn't find the question worthy of an answer."

"And what would make it worthy?" His voice carried a hint of challenge.

Stopping abruptly, she turned to face him. "Men like you and your brother," she said, her words sharp as ice, "think you can demand stories like you demand tribute. But my tales?" She stepped closer, close enough to see his breath mist in the cold air. "They're not won through demands."

Halfdan's eyes darkened. "You judge quickly for someone who knows nothing of me."

"I know enough." Her chin lifted. "I know you sit apart, watching, judging. I know you think yourself different from the others, more... refined." Her lips curved into a taunting smile. "And I know you're burning to prove me wrong."

He moved suddenly, backing her against one of the wooden posts that lined the path. His arm rested above her head, but he didn't touch her. "You speak boldly for someone surrounded by warriors not her own."

"And you loom like a man trying to intimidate a woman who clearly isn't afraid." Her eyes glittered with defiance. "Is this how you usually charm foreign visitors, Halfdan the Black? With poorly veiled threats?"

Something shifted in his expression – surprise, perhaps, or admiration. His lips twitched. "Most foreign visitors don't challenge me quite so... directly."

"Most foreign visitors," she countered, making no move to escape his proximity, "probably don't interest you quite so much."

The tension between them crackled like static before a storm. Halfdan leaned closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "You think yourself clever."

"I know myself clever." She tilted her head, her next words a deliberate provocation. "The question is, are you clever enough to keep up?"

A low chuckle rumbled in Halfdan's chest. He didn't back away, seeming to savor their proximity. "Most who challenge me so boldly usually carry a weapon."

"What makes you think I don't?" Her hand brushed against her belt, where a small knife rested. The movement drew his eyes downward, exactly as she'd intended.

"Clever indeed," he murmured, gaze traveling back to her face with deliberate slowness. "Tell me, does your husband know you taunt strange men in the dark?"

She matched his intense stare. "Tell me, does your wife know you corner foreign women against posts?"

His smile grew sharper, more predatory. "You answer questions with questions."

"And you avoid answering entirely." She shifted slightly, but instead of moving away, she leaned closer. "Though I notice you didn't deny the wife."

"Nor did you deny the husband." His free hand came up, fingers hovering near her face but not quite touching. "Though I think we both know the truth."

"Do we?" Her voice dropped to a whisper, matching his tone. "And what truth would that be?"

"That no man would let his wife wander so far from home." His fingers finally made contact, tracing a feather-light path along her jaw. "Or speak with such... defiance."

She caught his wrist, her grip firm but not rough. "Bold of you to assume any man could 'let' me do anything."

Instead of pulling away, Halfdan turned his hand in her grasp until his fingers wrapped around her wrist in return. The pad of his thumb found her pulse point, pressing lightly against the quickened beat.

"Your heart races," he observed, satisfaction coloring his words.

"Fear does that," she countered, though her smirk betrayed the lie.

"Fear?" His other hand came down from the post, bracing against the wood beside her hip. "Is that what you call this?"

She released his wrist only to fist her hand in the front of his tunic, pulling him closer until their faces were mere inches apart. "What would you call it?"

The tension snapped like a bowstring. Halfdan surged forward, claiming her mouth with his own. The kiss was fierce, hungry, a clash of dominance that matched their verbal sparring. Her grip on his tunic tightened, but before she could pull him closer, cold steel pressed against his throat.

He pulled back just enough to see the small blade she'd somehow drawn, his eyes darkening with something between amusement and desire. "Dangerous indeed."

"I did warn you about creatures with sharp teeth," she reminded him, the blade steady in her hand despite her breathless state.

Instead of backing away, he leaned into the knife's edge. "And yet, I'm not the one who drew blood first." His thumb brushed across her lower lip, showing her where his teeth had left their mark.

"Perhaps I like drawing blood." The knife traced a path down his neck, not pressing hard enough to cut.

"Perhaps," he growled, "I like letting you."

This time when he kissed her, the knife clattered to the ground. Her hands found his hair, his shoulders, anywhere to anchor herself as he pressed her harder against the post. His beard scratched against her skin, a delicious contrast to the softness of his lips.

"BROTHER!" Harald's voice boomed across the yard, followed by his raucous laughter. "So THIS is where you've been hiding!"

They broke apart, though Halfdan kept her caged between his arms, his forehead resting against hers for one more moment.

"Your timing, brother," he called back without looking away from her face, "remains impeccable as always."

She laughed, the sound rich with promise. Ducking under his arm, she retrieved her knife from the ground. "Perhaps the gods are telling us something."

"The gods," Halfdan caught her wrist as she turned to leave, "will have to be more persuasive than that." His voice dropped lower, meant only for her ears. "This isn't finished."

"No?" She twisted her wrist free, but let her fingers trail across his palm as she did. "Then consider this a tale left untold, poet. For now."

"I will find you again," he promised, his eyes intense in the starlight.

She walked backward toward the hall, a smile playing on her lips. "I expect you to try."

Harald's laughter followed her as she disappeared back into the warmth of the great hall, leaving Halfdan staring after her, the taste of her still on his lips and the ghost of her knife at his throat.

[majestativa]

Sister Viper, […] coiling around yourself into one elegant and taboo-dark muscle of terror.

— HARALD SVERDRUP ⚜️ 20 Contemporary Norwegian Poets: A Bilingual Anthology, transl. by Louis A. Muinzer, (1984)