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as-is-above-so-below · 2 years ago

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The Captain - Simon Riley x Sniper!Reader, Wife!Reader

summary: Ghost’s sniper wife (reader) joins Task Force 141 on an op, against his wishes call sign: Freyja warning: mentions of violence and death (ofc), blood Next >>

John Price stood at a round table, leading the mission brief for the team’s upcoming operation. Ghost, Soap, and Gaz sat around the table in various positions. Soap with his boots kicked up onto the table, chair tilted back; Gaz leaned forward onto the table, his forearms on the surface; Ghost leaned back against his chair, arms crossed over his chest. Soap and Gaz wore their regulation tan t-shirts and camo pants, while Ghost was clad in a black long-sleeve and his standard skull balaclava.

“So if we’re stormin’ the building, we’re all accounted for,” Soap pointed out, clicking the pen between his fingers. “We need a sniper.”

“Called in a favor with a good friend, who should have been here–”

“Ten minutes ago,” a strong but mellow voice cut in as a figure turned through the doorway. “I know, sorry John. Got a bit caught up with my room assignment. Tried to put me on the other side of base.”

A woman came into view, offering her hand out to John. They firmly grasped each other’s forearms in a quick shake. Soap and Gaz both had only slightly surprised expressions. Not at the fact that their sniper was female; they’d worked with plenty of fierce women during their time in Task Force 141.

The fact that she did not look the part.

She wore a massively oversized black sweatshirt that brushed her thighs and dark blue skinny jeans, her hair loose down her back. Must’ve just got off a plane, Soap thought to himself, looking her up and down. Her stance showed her confidence, feet shoulder-width apart as she faced the team with a bright smile (one not often found in their field of work) and glowing skin. She wasn’t necessarily small, more average height, but her attire dwarfed her frame.

“Thank you for joining us, Captain,” Price nodded at her. “This is Freyja. American Special Forces, sniper, undercover ops. She’s been briefed and will be joining us temporarily for the op. She comes highly recommended and outranks all of you, so I’d suggest you be on your best behavior.”

The woman jabbed Price with her elbow, rolling her eyes, much to Soap’s surprise. He barely suppressed the laugh that bubbled in his chest, unable to help the small choking laugh that escaped. Ghost glared at him and he quickly piped down.

“Thanks, John, but I think I’ll be fine. Glad to be of use.”

“Happy to have you. Let me know if you need anything while you’re here. I’ll leave you to it, get acquainted. We leave at 0400 hours. We’ll be infiltrating in daylight; prepare accordingly.”

“Aye, Captain,” Soap nodded once and saluted him, setting his chair back down as he rose. He watched John pat her shoulder on his way out, sharing what seemed like a knowing look, before finally departing to his quarters. Interesting.

Soap was the first to cross the room, taking her hand in a firm grip. “Pleasure to meet you, Captain. Sergeant John Mactavish,” he introduced, shaking her hand. He noted her equally firm grip and the cool metal of a wedding band pressing into his palm. Her skin was calloused yet soft, not as rough as his own.

“Soap, right? Heard a lot about you.”

“Aye. Good things I hope?"

“Mostly.”

A boisterous laugh left him, so loud you’d think the room shook. Soap heard Gaz gag on his water before breaking into a choked wheeze. The other man approached, shaking her hand as well. “Kyle Garrick, call me Gaz.”

Her hands found their way into the pockets of her sweatshirt.

“So, Freyja… like the–?”

A gentle, airy giggle floated into his ears. What a lovely sound. “Yes, like the goddess. I know, my husband’s idea.”

Soap groaned, his head lolling back in faux agony as he pressed a hand to his chest. “You’re breakin’ my heart, lass. Was hopin’ ya didn’t have one’a those. He in the service?”

“He is, but you wouldn’t know him. Keeps a pretty low profile,” she shrugged, keeping her eyes on the two men in front of her.

”D’ya think I could take him?”

”Probably not.”

Neither Soap nor Gaz noticed the way Ghost’s mask twitched slightly, evidence of the smirk that pulled at his lips. But she knew his microexpressions like the back of her hand, even out of the corner of her eye. The Scot remembered Ghost’s presence suddenly and waved his hand in his direction. He hadn’t made any move to greet the newcomer and hadn’t spoken during the entire brief.

“Steamin’ Jesus, Ghost, you heard the man. Be nice to the lady!”

Ghost grunted, keeping his arms folded on his chest. “Captain.”

“Lieutenant.”

The two stared at each other, her brow quirked. As the seconds passed, the interaction became increasingly awkward for everyone else in the room. Even the thickest person on the planet could have sensed the tension. Unable to take the silence any longer, Gaz stepped in to attempt to relieve some tension. “You two worked together before?”

“You could say that,” Ghost stated as he rose from his chair. “A word, Freyja?”

Her tongue poked at the inside of her cheek and she squinted at him. It was almost comical, the height difference between the two. Typically, Soap would have made a snarky quip, if not for the vicious look in her eyes. He wouldn’t say it out loud to him, but the scowl rivaled his lieutenant‘s. Finally, she spoke, “Excuse us, gentlemen. I’ll see you in the morning. You know where to find me in the meantime.”

“G’night, Cap,” Soap nodded and moved to the side, allowing her to pass to the door. Ghost didn’t spare them another glance as he followed behind her. The two men stood silently until they heard a door slam shut up the hall. Soap snapped his gaze to Gaz and found him already looking with wide eyes.

“What was that about?”

Soap shrugged noncommittally. “Not a clue. Bad history? Ghost’s no’ exactly skilled in manners.” He went to head to his room when he noticed a military-issue duffel where Freyja had been standing, an American flag patch on the side. He bent down and slung it over his shoulder. “Left her stuff. I’m gonna drop it by ‘for hittin’ the hay. See ya in the mornin’.”

They went their separate ways, Gaz disappearing to the armory to stock up for the mission. Soap approached the only spare room in their wing and rapped his knuckles against the door. He waited for a few beats to no response and repeated the motion.

Nothing.

Soap’s brows furrowed when he heard what sounded like a muffled argument from the next door up, labeled “Lt. Riley”. Soap should have just left her duffel in front of her door and continued on his way to his bedroom, and gone to bed.

But no, he just had to snoop.

He crept toward the door, still holding the bag as he pressed his ear to the hollow wood. They clearly knew each other, but Ghost hadn’t seemed happy to see her. He felt a bit guilty spying on his lieutenant, but his curiosity was getting the better of him. He heard Ghost’s deep voice first.

“We had a deal. You’re supposed to be on leave, and Price knows that. I have half a mind to wring his fucking neck–”

“John didn’t ask me to be here, I volunteered–”

“Cut the shit, Y/N. I’m not daft. He has no place calling you in without asking me first.”

“I don’t take orders from you, Simon!”

Simon? Just how familiar were they with each other?

“Oh, I’m well aware. I just figured that when your husband asks you to stay home, you'd listen! How silly of me!”

So he knows her husband. Interesting.

“That’s not fair, and you know it.”

“You want to talk about fair? You went around my back to my Captain. I’d say anything’s fair play at this point.” Heavy boots crossed the floor. “This isn’t just about you anymore. You’re not my superior, you’re–”

Soap shuffled his feet, he realized too late how loud the noise was in the empty hallway, and the voices suddenly stopped. He knocked in an attempt to recover, quickly stepping back from the door before it opened. The woman appeared, now in a too-big band tee, her dog tags resting on her chest. “Hi, Johnny,” she greeted, her tone significantly warmer than it had been a moment ago.

He didn’t remember mentioning his preference for the name, but he couldn’t find a reason to comment on it then. “You, uh, left ya bag. Wanted to drop it off, figured you’d be here.”

“Oh, my bad. Thanks, I appreciate it.” He transferred her possessions to her. The bag that appeared standard when he carried it looked huge compared to her frame. The added weight did not phase her. “We have an early morning. I’m heading to bed.”

Ghost moved from his spot near the bed on the other side of the room. “Frey–”

She held a hand up, sending another chilling glare in his direction. Soap was impressed when Ghost didn’t even blink at the look. “Enough, Lieutenant. That’s an order.” He didn’t miss the eyes behind the skeleton glowering or how the fabric near his mouth shifted.

“Yes, ma’am,” he growled through clenched teeth.

She brushed by Soap, readjusting the bag on her shoulder as she stormed to her room, somehow gracefully maintaining her posture. Before he could turn back to question Ghost, the door swung shut in his face.

Real polite.

~*~

“Alpha-One, in position.”

“Copy that, one. Alpha-Two, in position.”

“Bravo?” Soap’s partner looked over his shoulder at the white light flashing at them in the distance. There was a muffled choking sound and a swallow, followed by a sniffle. “Freyja?”

“Sorry. Multiple armed guards. Two snipers at the east and west sides of the targets.” Her voice, while calm, sounded tired and a bit drained. As if she could sense the unspoken question, she came through their headsets again. “Little sick this morning. I’m fine.”

Ghost's jaw set and he rolled his shoulders, blinking a few times to focus. Soap noticed the motion and covered the mic on his headset. “You a’right, Lt.?” he asked, his voice concerned with his brows furrowed.

Ghost ignored him. “Can you get a visual inside?”

“Negative. Windows are blocked in both buildings. You’re going blind.”

“What’s the call, ma’am?” Gaz’s voice.

“This is Price’s op. I’m just here for support.”

“Ghost?” Price this time.

Ghost audibly sighed, his irritation at the situation clear. Soap wondered how bad their last encounter could have been for the usually collected man in front of him to be so disheveled. Soap looked over at the lieutenant, who had turned his attention back to the opening in the wall between them. “Bravo, hold your position. Understood?”

“Affirmative.”

“Alpha-One, move in on your target on my command.” Ghost clicked off his mic and slid the chamber back on his pistol, doing one final check.

Soap took the opportunity to follow up on his unanswered concern. “Ghost, you good? Seem tense. Something going on with the lass?”

“Shut up, Sergeant.” He reached up to click his headset back on. “Freyja cleared hot to engage.”

“Standby.” A beat passed, then another, until the suppressed shot of a sniper rifle rang through their headsets, followed by the bolt being pulled back and pushed forward. Another shot. “Clean hit. Snipers down.”

“Copy. Alpha-One, move in. Keep it quiet,” Ghost commanded, signaling Soap forward with a tilt of his head.

She watched Ghost and Soap move swiftly around structures and cars forward to their target. Her gaze periodically adjusted between them and Alpha-One, Gaz and Price. Soap’s accent was low in her ear. “Approaching target. Engaging two hostiles.”

The pair dispatched the guards with ease, the same as the other team up the road.

“Be advised, I have no eyes inside,” she reminded the group, surveying the surrounding area as both teams entered the building.

“Roger. Breaching.”

On their frequency, angry shouts and gunfire had her writing uncomfortably in her spot. She didn’t like not having a solid visual of her team; it made her feel helpless. The audio of the scene inside wasn’t helping her nerves (or nausea) much, either. The sniper was almost lost in her thoughts when she caught movement at the edge of her scope up the street.

Reinforcements.

“Ghost, engaging incoming hostiles. You might want to bug out,” she suggested, taking several shots at the armed men back-to-back. “Alpha-One, sound off.”

“Heard. Intel acquired,” Price acknowledged. “Clearing out.”

“Alpha-Two, how copy?”

The radio crackled once before Soap came through. “Copy, I’ve lost visual on Ghost. Got separated in the firefight,” he grunted, still firing shots inside the building. “‘M gonna have to squirt.”

Something wasn’t right. “Ghost, how copy?”

Silence.

“Lieutenant, what’s your status?”

Her skin crawled at the repeated silence. “Fuck.” She took a deep breath and pulled her knees underneath her body, her stomach suddenly stilling, nausea disappearing. “Abandoning post.” Her voice pierced through their radios with urgency. She abandoned her rifle and made her way down from her perch.

“Absolutely not. We’re converging at the meeting point now.” Price cursed under his breath as she brandished her sidearm and sprinted towards Ghost’s last location. “Stand down, Bravo, that’s an order!” The captain commanded, rough and authoritative.

“All due respect, Price, get bent.”

Price and Gaz watched helplessly as she disappeared into the structure, Soap approaching them from their flank. “The absolute balls on that one, aye?” he snickered, eyeballing Price. He didn’t even flinch, expression hard as steel as he rubbed his face. He hadn’t seen his captain that stressed in quite a while. Maybe not the time for jokes…

The blood-curdling screams Soap heard would scare any man straight. It sounded like a horror movie slaughterhouse over their comms, whether it was caused by Ghost or Freyja he didn’t know. He did know it was her voice that said Ghost’s name and assumed the distant, heated mumbling was Ghost. He must have lost his headset if they couldn’t hear him clearly, and what they were hearing was whatever her comms picked up. “Shut the fuck up and move. If you were fine, I wouldn’t be here, Lieutenant. You can thank me later,” she snapped, sounding eerily similar to a stereotypical angry wife. There’s no way she cleared out that entire convoy on her own…

Right?

Moments later, without any other gunfire, the pair emerged. Ghost was indeed missing his headset, while Freyja trudged in front of him, taking long steps to cross the street. Her helmet was gone, and her hair had come loose. Gun in one hand, a familiar black combat knife in the other, dripping blood. Strands of hair clung to her face, coated in dark red, along with her hands, bare arms, and vest. Soap’s eyes blew wide. “Steamin’ bloody Jesus, did she–?”

Price hummed and nodded beside him. In the same breath, she stumbled over to a car and gripped the door handle, dumping her stomach on the dusty road. Soap and Gaz moved to help, but Price stopped them with a single grunt. Ghost was immediately on her, expertly sweeping her hair into one hand as he pulled her earpiece out, cutting off their audio. One of her hands grabbed his vest for support while his other hand rested on her back.

“Well, that’s unusual,” Soap chimed, his head cocked to the side as he watched the display.

“Quit starin’ and load up. I doubt that’s the last of those reinforcements.” Price waved at them, catching Ghost’s attention and pointing to an approaching Heli, waving his hand in a “roll out” motion.

~*~

The ride back to base in the heli was one of the most awkward experiences of Soap’s life; not a word was spoken during the short trip. Ghost pulled a rag out of his vest and silently handed it to Freyja to wipe some blood from her face; she passed him the blade she had carried, and he finally placed its familiarity when Ghost tucked it into the empty holster at his hip. She looked utterly drained now that they were in close quarters. In another shocking moment, she rested her head on Ghost’s shoulder, and he didn’t move to shove her off.

What the fuck?

At the base, Ghost dropped her off at the medical bay before storming into the meeting room where the team had gathered to debrief. “You’re a dead man, Price,” he barked, finger jabbed at him as his skull plate skittered across the table when he threw it. “You fuckin’ knew–”

“Simon, I’m sorry–”

“Don’t “Simon” me. Sorry’s not gonna cut it, Captain! If she’s hurt–”

“I didn’t think she would compromise herself that easily.”

Ghost barked a dry, humorless laugh as he pointed in the general direction of the infirmary. “Of course, she’s bloody compromised! She’s my fuckin’ wife, you git!” he snarled, teeth viciously bared as he ripped off his mask.

“Hell’s fuckin’ bells…”

“Bloody hell…”

He was too angry (and, frankly, scared for his wife’s health) to acknowledge their audience. “This is exactly why I told you not to call her. I can’t focus if I’m worried about her safety right now. She’s supposed to be safe at home, resting, not running into a bloody warzone, for God’s sake!”

“She was told not to leave her post–”

“When has she ever obeyed a direct order?”

Silence fell over the group, Price effectively losing the argument. Neither Sergeant wanted to find themselves on the other end of Ghost’s rage. They had no envy for Price and dared not get between them. No envy at all. On the other hand, Soap had so many questions. Since where was Ghost married? When did he have the time for a wife? And an American at that? How long had he been keeping her a secret?

“Simon.”

Four heads whipped to the soft voice across the room, finding the woman of the hour standing in the doorway. A superficial cut on her forehead had been taped up, her face clear of blood. Soap and Gaz stared at her in disbelief, jaws dropped as they looked from her to Ghost and back again. She chuckled at their expressions but didn’t move to approach them. “Captain Riley. Lovely to meet you both, officially,” she reintroduced herself, a slight smirk on her lips. She finally met her husband’s gaze, her expression softened at his bare face, save for the black paint.

He curled two fingers at her, one arm crossed over his chest. “C’mere. Now,” he ordered her, though his tone had little bite to it.

Even only knowing the sniper for such little time, Soap was outright shocked at the display. Flabbergasted by her obedience when she immediately strode to the spot next to him, barely leaving any space between their chests. It didn’t seem like her. He was obviously wrong, considering what he’d just witnessed.

Ghost took a deep breath as he peered down at her, examining her visible skin for injuries. “I’m right pissed at you, love,” he muttered, allowing her to loop a finger in his belt loop.

She smiled up at him, her admiration clear now that the sergeants had been let in on the secret. “I know.”

“Don’t give me that look.” The man sighed exasperatedly and rolled his eyes. He knew he couldn’t hold his ground with that smile of hers. He dropped a gloved hand to rest on her lower belly, rubbing the spot with his thumb. “You alright?”

She placed her hand on top of his and bobbed her head. Her familiar glow from the night before had returned.

“I’d like an apology.”

“And I’d like a parade in my honor. Oh, and a good ol’ fashioned fu–”

“Oi, better watch that fuckin’ mouth of yours.”

“You love my mouth.”

“Tha’ I do. Just not right now, sweetheart.”

Soap couldn’t take it anymore. “Steamin’ blood Jesus L.t., are you…flirting?”

“Shamelessly,” she giggled, never once tearing her eyes away from the man towering over her.

Ghost rolled his eyes again, his other hand slipping into its home on the side of her neck. “You’re done. I mean it. And if you call her again, I walk,” he threatened, turning his head to address Price directly. “Don’t think I won’t.”

“Ghost, she held her own just fine,” Soap interjected from his chair. “Hen took out an entire squad practically single-handedly, plus the convoy before she went in after ya. I don’t see the problem.”

Realization dawned on Gaz suddenly, forcing him to his feet again. “You’re pregnant,” he exclaimed, both in shock and awe. “That’s why you were feeling sick. And the big clothes. You’re on maternity leave."

The lack of response from John and Freyja and how Ghost studied Gaz said everything they needed to know.

“No wonder you’ve been downright crabbit with her! Can’t say I blame ye, ‘s too dangerous out there to be mucking about with a little one in there.” Soap rose to his feet too, smiling like a cheeseball, ready to ruthlessly tease him. “How’d you manage that, Ghost? A bangin’ wife and a baby?”

“I know it’s been a while for you, Sarge–”

“Aw, away n’ bile yer heid!” the Scot barked, dismissing his lieutenant with a wave.

“English, MacTavish.”

“Sorry, sir, let me translate…Go fuck yourself.”

“Much better.”

He moved on from Ghost, addressing Freyja now. “I’ve so many questions! How long ‘ave you been together?” Soap leaned against the round table in front of them, his hands dragging across the shaved portion of his head.

“How old am I?” Ghost asked in a low, teasing timber.

Her upper lip tugged upwards as her hand wavered, indicating an estimate. “Five years, give or take.”

“Five years?! Son of the god-damn-devil, Lt! You’ve had a secret wife for five years–” He cut himself off with a gasp, his volume dropping to a brash whisper. “Does he take the mask off when you—”

“Tha’ll do, Johnny.”

Her bubbly laugh filled the room, and she swatted his tactical vest with her palm. “Si, don’t be an ass,” she warned, raising a brow at him. “Oh, John! I have pictures for you!” The woman let go of her husband and dug out folded ultrasound photos from her zipped pocket. She, Price, and Gaz moved to another corner of the room, gushing over the snapshots of her latest appointment before flying out, leaving Soap and Ghost alone by the meeting table.

A mischievous grin overtook Soap’s face. “An American, eh, Lt.? And she outranks you?”

“Not another word, Sergeant.”

A long pause stretched between them, although not long enough for Ghost’s liking.

“So… Goddess of love, beauty, and war,” he inquired, raising an eyebrow at the Brit, who threw him a questioning side-eye. Soap hummed. “Fitting.”

Soap almost gawked at the smirk (borderline smile) that Ghost bore as he watched his wife animatedly pour over her photos. “I’m well aware.” Another moment passed between them before Ghost fully turned to the other man. “Johnny?”

“Yeah, Ghost?"

“Flirt with my wife again, I’ll knock your teeth in."

"Noted, sir."

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darktrashsoulbear · 2 months ago

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Exploring Local Treasures

Ewan Mitchell x new girlfriend!reader

Summary: Ewan takes his new girlfriend on a tour of his hometown Derby, on her insistence, and scrambles to find things to do while also just being so incredibly in love.

This was a request sent in by the lovely Freyja @endless-ineffabilities who persuaded me to share a fic that showcased my insider knowledge of Derby!

Actors Masterlist

Taglist

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2019

A big thank you to @gwaynesprincess for beta reading this!

Divider Credit: @saradika-graphics

Any likes, comments and reblogs are always always appreciated :)

A/N: The rucksack is filled with your favourite drinks and snacks as well as extra hair bobbles and his own shopping bags to carry whatever the two of you collect during the day!

The sun was nowhere to be seen, instead the sky was littered with grey clouds and the odd pigeon here and there. Many would describe it as bleak, a fitting description for his location. The streets of the city centre were filled with the sounds of construction which would make you think perhaps it’s preparing for the upcoming Christmas Markets, wrong. There aren’t any Christmas Markets over here, only an ice rink if you’re lucky that year. With a grimace plastered across his face he sighed “I still have no idea why you’d want a tour of this place, love, there’s nothing to see. How about I take you to Nottingham tomorrow where they actually do have a Christmas Market hm?”

“Ewan, babe, I’ve come here to see where you grew up which is right here in Derby not half an hour away in Nottingham!” she refuted, eagerly dragging him along – to where, she wasn’t sure.

“Darling, there’s really nothing to see here, only a few pubs and there’s a decent milkshake place over there,” he fired back ready to head back to the lifts to the car park.

Grinning she manoeuvred herself, so she was before him, walking backwards, dragging him by both hands, “excellent, I’m absolutely parched and besides, aren’t you supposed to be calling me duck here baby?”

Letting out yet another sigh, Ewan resigned himself to his fate and a day of boredom before finally giving in and walking with his girl, pulling out his wallet “unless you’d like for us to get the attention of every girl within earshot then I won’t be calling you duck, my love its almost too common here”

“What and my love isn’t,” she teased leaning in to peck him on the cheek and he quickly took the chance to turn his head, earning himself a peck on the lips promptly followed by a reprimanding pat on the chest.

As they ordered their milkshakes Ewan racked his brain on what on earth he was going to do and how he was expected to provide an entertaining day when it was only three o’clock. Don’t get him wrong, Ewan didn’t hate Derby, but he had long made peace with the fact that it offered very little in terms of entertainment when compared to other bigger cities – sure there were still bowling alleys, escape rooms and a pub on every corner but that’s not exactly revolutionary anymore. This usually suited Ewan just fine when he came home from long shoots away from home and all he wanted was the comfort of doing mostly nothing but in this circumstance, it was a nightmare. Because this was her, his girl, the one. Yes, they had only been together for a few months, but things were going great, phenomenally even. She ticked every box of his and every night he’d send a prayer up to the sky that she felt the same about him. They hadn’t said ‘I love you’ yet but he sure as hell felt it and if the way she looked at him was any inclination, then she did too. Which is why he wanted today to be perfect, he had to say it today – he feared he would combust if he didn’t.

His thoughts were interrupted by another soft tug on this hand as his girl led him over to collect their milkshakes, hers a combination of white chocolate and raspberry and his, a plain dairy milk – he was far too preoccupied to be adventurous today. After checking yet again that she was absolutely sure she wanted to stay, he reluctantly led her towards the pub that was a favourite of his brothers and had become the go to pub ever since he’d first been taken their by his parents when he was twelve ‘The Bless”, ensuring he went the long way to give them enough time for them to drink their milkshake, and for her to change her mind.

Stepping into the warmth of the pub after walking around the city centre was welcomed but he received it with a hint of annoyance due to it meaning that his girl unfurled herself from her position wrapped around his arm, body pressed against his. Although the blinding grin she flashed him as they walked to an available table in a corner towards the back made up for it, her opting to sit next to him on the booth, body leaning against his rather than on the chair opposite certainly did. The pub was relatively quiet due to it being a random Wednesday at three-thirty which Ewan was thankful for as it meant he was able to bury his face in the crook of her neck, lips brushing against her skin as he responded to her questions without any shame.

Their drinks arrived, a water for his darling and an apple juice for him – a decision made after he advised her that it may be best to stay completely sober for what he has planned later, to which she excitedly probed him with questions and general triumphant remarks at her getting him to co-operate. As they sipped their drinks and made general conversation – gossiped – about anything and everything, Ewan couldn’t help but admire the gorgeous girl next to him, glancing over the eyes he so easily finds himself getting lost in, the slope of her nose and the lips that entice him in without even realising. He glances down to where her body meets his, one arm wrapped around his waist while the other switches between taking sips of her drink and wrapping around his, fingers dancing across his own as she plays with the cool metal of the ring on one of his digits.

“So, then I looked at her like yeah, I completely get it but honestly I have no idea what she was talking... mmph,” she was abruptly cut off by Ewan’s lips finding home and colliding with hers. After recovering from her shock, she eagerly responded thankful for the booth standing tall and curling around them as the arm Ewan wrapped around her shoulders tightened and near enough pulled her onto his lap. Believing she’d indulged him enough, his love pulled away as his hand had begun to snake its way up her soft brown knitted sweater.

Between refilling her lungs with air, she wondered where that had come from, his response came with a smirk that painted his angular face “well if you agree to end our little excursion, I’d be happy to give you the full package.”

To which she responded with a breathy laugh and a simple “as if I wouldn’t get it anyway”, rendering him momentarily speechless – because she wasn’t wrong – and she used the opportunity to pull him up by the lapels of his green coat, perfect for the chill in the air, and guided him back outside before demanding he take her to the next place.

With the thousandth sigh of the day, he did just that wrapping his arm around her waist this time and guiding her back into the centre’s main building to the car park, when he quickly explained they’d have to drive to the next location to narrowly avoid the shove coming his way as she believed he was yet again hoping to end their fun early. Reluctantly she agreed to get in the car but not before making him pinkie promise he wasn’t lying.

As Ewan parked up in what he can only assume is an actual parking spot – the car park was so run down he couldn’t really be sure – he took a quick look around, due to the fact that while this was shared between the ‘Rollerworld’ and the Indian restaurant next door ‘Slice of India’ that was its secondary use especially now that it had started getting dark sooner this time of year. With a light jog, he made his way around the front of the car to open the door for his love before she could even think about doing it herself – chivalry to him was not dead – and he happily accepted the “Cheers, Mitchell” and peck on the cheek, that actually landed on his cheek, he got in return.

Grasping her hand in his own (more like engulfing) he quickly led her around from the back of the building where the car park is to the front entrance, making quick work of paying for their entry before making their way up the steps that were far too steep to have a place so close to where people are roller skating. After giving their sizes to the guy behind the counter, Ewan and his love took a chance to survey the place. He again is thankful that it is a Wednesday and its less busy meaning fewer kids for him to accidentally run over or trample, he looks back over at her and sees she’s yet again grinning from ear to ear and has decided that while this certainly wasn’t how he’d have initially opted to spend the day, every second was worth it to see her so happy and he hopes she looks at him that way every day for the rest of their lives.

He was yet again snapped out of his musings by her dragging him over to the seats to put the skates on practically vibrating with excitement and he takes a moment to hope that his lack of roller skating over the past few years doesn’t catch up to him. Which, of course, it did. Multiple times. Any time he believed he had it, the universe sniggered and proved that he, in fact, did not. He wishes he was able to say that it was made worth it by his sweet girl being there aiding and reassuring him but well, if you looked at her any time he was reacquainted with the floor it would seem as though she had front row tickets to a Ricky Gervais comedy show – although she at least had the decency to attempt to ask if he was alright through her cackles.

Eventually, his legs started co-operating, his girl no longer laughed at him (mostly due to the pain her stomach was in for laughing all that time) and they embarked on a shared rhythm around the rink. Neither would admit to it under questioning due to the major cliché of it all, but they did indeed hold hands as they went – once she was sure he wouldn’t drag her down with him. About an hour after their arrival, they both gravitated towards the exit of the rink deciding to grab food on their way back home. As they debated where to go once they’d walked down the too steep stairs, Ewan suggested just popping over to the Indian buffet next door with the promise that the Chinese styled noodles were to die for. This caused her to softly chuckle while looking up at him through her lashes teasing about how “out of everything at the Indian food buffet his highlight was a different cuisine” and just as he was about to defend himself, he looked down at her. Really looked. He looked at the way she looked at him with the softest gaze he’d ever seen, the way she lightly bit her lip while waiting for a response and at the way the hints of her beautiful smile remained in her eyes, and he couldn’t stop himself.

He dipped his head making direct eye contact and said the easiest three words of his life. Her face went from shocked, to happy, to elated as she responded with an “I love you” of her own in earnest. The tension that he didn’t even realise was there escaped his shoulders as he grasped the lapels of his own green coat wrapped around her and met her lips in a kiss that had him seeing spots of white behind his eyelids. A minute or five later, they pulled away from one another, took each other’s hands and walked into the restaurant, where the Chinese style noodles were indeed to die for.

Notes:

As I've said, likes, comments and reblogs are so appreciated

As is constructive criticism, this is my first time writing so some kind pointers are welcome!

Thank you so much for reading!

#fluff centric #when in doubt go to rollerworld #darktrashsoulbear writes #or at least she tries to #ewan mitchell x reader #ewan mitchell #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #exploring local treasures

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itstheendofthegoddamnworld · 4 months ago

Text

Swallowed Whole by The Flame (Messmer the Impaler x Tarnished! Reader) 4

MASTERLIST

PREVIOUS | NEXT

Summary: You and Messmer come to some sort of agreement.

A/N: This is a shorter chapter, but I promise to provide something juicy for the next one!

A03 link

Chapter 4: An Accord

When you're dressed in a cleaner pair of knight's trousers, boots and shirt, you are directed back to the room you dreaded returning to. Messmer's throne room was just as dimly lit as when you first entered, with the Lord awaiting you like an emperor on his throne.

He was regal and poised, wracking his sharp nails against the armrest as if awaiting your arrival. The other was curled around his spear, an intimidating sight to behold. Once you had been deposited in front of him, his fire knights bowed in respect, taking their spots positioned in areas around the room, eyes directed only on you.

"Tarnished," he announced, his voice booming through the empty hall with the exceptionalism of someone like him, "thou art not much of a beast after all."

He was discussing the matters of being cleaned up, both through your wounds and through being cleaned. Though, if being kept alive was not seen as a sign of mercy from him, there had to be some ulterior motives.

"Yes, nothing screams relaxation than being drowned in a bath with nowhere to hide." You spoke comically, but Messmer found no amusement in your words. He hadn't since you arrived. You did wonder if he had made friendships in his years, through his soldiers, or did they find him to be some enigma.

You filled the silence with a question. "Now that you so kindly mended me and had me bathed, am I to be on my way?"

Messmer's eye squinted subtly, tapping his fingers impatiently like a cat would swish its tail. You were slowly ebbing your way through to irritating him more and more. "And wherefore doth thee think I wouldst?"

Nerves bubble to your throat, as you're ready to throw up or wish upon his flames to take you out now. "I told you of Miquella's plans. That would make me not your enemy nor your ally." You spoke incredulously. "I am not wanting any part of this, on either side. I am simply telling you the truth so I may leave."

"So thee may betray another?"

"So I may survive." You corrected. Messmer didn't seem convinced. "Do you know how exhausting it is to fight against your family? Your siblings betray and scheme, your mother is imprisoned by some greater will none could even open, and yet, I am in the midst of it all."

He doesn't speak, simply surveying you as do his serpents, all eyes that seem to read right through you, reading whether you speak the truth or not. Truth be told, you do not know if you know what of Marika's whereabouts, only that war after war has been fought, with no sight of a true victor. A Tarnished like yourself could never be loved, nor accepted, it was known. How they mocked you, but still, you endured.

"T'is a shame," Messmer spoke. "It seemeth one of thy friends already knoweth of thy whereabouts."

You held no allies that you knew of who held your trust, alive or dead. None came to your head. "Who?"

"There has't been sightings of one of Miquella's followers, the former follower of Radahn, Freyja." His fingers scratched lightly against the wood of the throne, irking you greatly. "I want thee to deal with her."

You scoff, crossing your arms, glowering back at him with as much fire as he does. So all those things he did rather than kill you were for something. "What would you have me do?"

"Simple," Messmer leans back on his throne, a small smirk on his face. "Kill her and bringeth the proof."

You could only wish he had been joking at this moment, for the urge to laugh washed over you. Indeed it would've been an awkward time to do so. "You wish for me to kill her? Shall I make it clear that she is not the only one? If they hear one of theirs are killed by my own hands, they will not stop until they have me dead. And they will hear of it, one way or another."

"It should not be an issue for you, Tarnished." Messmer holds no sympathy for you, rather he looks even more bored by you. You think if you don't answer him a simple yes or no, he will just catch you alight on the very spot you stand in, imprisoning you again and again.

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration. "Where was she spotted?"

"Mine own soldiers sayeth the Moorth Ruins. It is a two-day ride."

Great. You could only wish you could fly out the highest window and end in a place far from the Keep, riding on Torrent out of here, away from strange cult-like followers and tyrants. "And if I don't do this?"

"Oh, I'm sure thee shall," Messmer rises, his chainmail rattling with each methodical step he takes towards you. "Not only wouldst thee be wanted by me and mine own men, but by them as well. Wouldst thee rather has't the safety of these walls or the bitter cold world to swallow thee whole?"

Neither were good options, but despite your odds, you'd rather go against each of them individually than face Messmer alone as the full force.

A hundred cuts then to be burnt over and over again.

He has made his way down towards you now, standing in front of you in all his glory. Now that you're not fighting him, you realise up close that behind the scowl, there is a handsomeness to him. You have to admit that the kin of Marika were very comely.

"What doth thee sayeth?" Messmer's voice is a mere whisper, his voice reverberates out and through your chest, and you can't help but shudder at how he enunciates each word thoughtfully.

Sorry Miquella. You think, signing away your life once again. "I accept."

For the first time, Messmer seems... relieved by your choice. You visibly see the way the lines in his forehead relax slightly, his golden snake-like eye lessens its intensity as if even he is surprised you would say yes.

Messmer gestures for you to follow him. "Cometh, mine own men shalt handeth thee thy weapons and armour."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Your amour feels heavy from how long you have not worn it. In those three days imprisoned, you feel the relief of the 'fresh' air hitting your skin, sighing deeply as you take it all in. Messmer stands slightly off to the side behind you, arms folded behind his back, but you're certain you can feel either his gaze or one of his snakes on you.

His soldiers hand you the necessary things, your bag full of your flasks and the map in case you need it to find the ruins, but you're sure you know where they are.

There is a tense build-up in the air as you stand before Messmer, dressed and armed with his knights ready to wave you off. How you thought Messmer could trust you to do this, you weren't sure. You still thought this was all some trap, bringing the other into a false sense of security before the other could stab them in the back.

Messmer walked over to you, his red hair was even brighter in the cold outside world. "Shalt thee needeth a horse?"

"No need." You responded, pulling forth your whistle and blowing into it, the high-pitched screech bringing forth the long-awaited Torrent at last. Torrent materialises out of nowhere, startling Messmer's knights as if unsure what it was you had conjured. You greet him as he strides towards you, bonking his snout to you as you chuckle, bringing forth a sweet for him to savour. Messmer watched silently until you spoke to him. "This is Torrent. He has been by my side ever since."

Messmer seemed awkward with the small talk, simply nodding but as if he wished to say more. "Very well." He gave a nod, to which gave the thumbs up for the drawbridge to be lowered. The heavy gate groaned with life as it slowly fell, giving you time to hop onto Torrent, finalising everything you had.

When the bridge was finally opened, you gave a final look to Messmer, and his knights, as if you were waving off a dear friend, not the one who had you imprisoned for so long. It felt odd, to say the least, rather than relief to be going, it felt strange to be sent off only to come back to him when all was done.

Messmer was still towering over you when he tugged on your arm, startling you with how warm he felt even through the leather of your gloves. It could almost be unbearable if he held on much longer.

Now almost at eye level with him, you stared back at him, realising just how close he was to your face and-- since when did he have freckles? And when had he ever looked so calm when looking at you? It brought this unknown heat to rise to your face, thankful that your face was covered.

It was only when the tension was eased that Messmer leant further, whispering something close to your ears that brought the ripples of a shudder to pass through you. In that very moment, you had wished you hadn't touched the withered arm and stepped forth to get to these lands:

"If thee dare betray me, I shall maketh sure thou art never blessed by mine own mother's grace again."

#messmer the impaler #messmer x reader #elden ring messmer #messmer x tarnished #tarnished! reader #part 4 #elden ring fic #elden ring shadow of the erdtree #messmer fic #itstheendofthegoddamnworld writes

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spence-whore · 8 months ago

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Stressful long days

Damien Haas x Reader

AN i lied, i went ahead and finished this little x reader just now. totaallllyyyy not procrastinating working on a final, whaaaaat? couldn’t be meeee. on another note though, this was the first time in almost five years i have written something like this. i actually used to post damien haas imagines on wattpad whenever i was in my senior year of high school. wild. If this is bad, I apologize. I’m kinda rusty. I’m going to try and get some more up asap though! Remember if you have any requests, please send them my way!

Today has been actual hell. You work in IT at an office and you usually don’t have much to do besides help people here and there. Today, it was like everyone was having problems with the new program that they were all supposed to switch to. You were technically supposed to go home at 5pm but it is now 8pm. You slowly pulled yourself up the steps to your shared apartment with Damien. The only things you could hear around you were others in their apartments, watching TV and faint talking. It was so tempting to just flop down on the step and just take a break but seeing Damien was the reward of pushing yourself up the steps.

“Just a few more steps, Y/N. You can do it.” You whispered to yourself, trudging up the last few steps and grabbing your keys out of your pockets. The sound of little paws booking it to the door thumped from the other side.

“Hi loves!” You just threw your jacket off and dropped to the ground to love on Zelda and Freyja.

“Y/N? Is that you?” Damien’s voice echoed from the living room.

“Nope, just a stranger, breaking in to rob you.” You shouted back while giving the two cats head scratches.

“Ha-ha, you’re just sooo hilarious.” Damien says giggling, while peaking his head around the corner.

“I know, I truly deserve an award for being the funniest.” You just gave him a half assed smile. He could tell from the look on your face and the fact you weren’t roasting him, something was up.

“What’s going on in that little head of yours? Busy day?” He asked while walking towards you and sticking his hand out, to help you up.

“You could say that. Would you maybe wanna just order food and we could relax and watch a movie?” You suggest hoping that he won’t oblige to the request.

“Of course, go change into some comfy clothes and go get on the couch. I’ll get it all set up.” He said with a smile while helping you stand back up.

You took a few minutes to yourself in your bedroom, before getting changed into sweatpants and an old shirt of Damien’s. You took a little bit longer while in the bathroom because you wanted to wash the grime off your face from the day.

You practically threw yourself on the couch and sighed really loudly into the pillow. “Do you wanna talk about it or do you just wanna eat then watch a movie and cuddle?” You hear Damien ask from the doorway. He had a bag that had takeout in it, in his hand.

“I’m just so mentally drained. We started using a new program at work and it did not want to work for absolutely anyone. I was having to delete it and redownload it for so many people today. I didn’t think they would hold me there that long but nope.” You took a really deep breath before turning around onto your back. It felt like tears were starting to well up so quickly in your eyes, one little comment and they would come flooding out. “Will you just come hold me for a few minutes then we can eat? Please?”

Damien didn’t even give you the opportunity to think about everything going on in your head before you were yanked up off the couch into his arms. He was holding you bridal style while you just giggled. “What are you doing, dude?” You asked.

“Uuuuuh, picking up my partner, so I can lay down on the couch and put said partner on top of me. So, I can fulfill their request. You biiiiig dummmmmyyyyy.” He laid back on the couch with you still in his arms then he let you go, so you can get comfortable.

You turned around, on your stomach, so your chin was on his chest and you were looking up at him. “Okay, one, rude. What did we say about name calling?”

He cut you off before you could continue, “We never said anything about name calling because I like picking on you. It’s the way I show my love.” He said while resting his hands on your back and staring down at you.

“Touché and two, I can’t thank you enough for just being so caring. I genuinely don’t know what I would do, if I didn’t have you to come home to.” A smile flooded Damien’s face, as he yanked you up closer to him and he pressed a kiss onto your forehead.

“You would probably go absolutely bonkers, if we’re being honest.” He whispered, giggling whenever you acted offended

You just laid there, tracing your finger alongside the tattoos, trying to not cry. It felt more and more like a damn starting to overflow.

“I’m really proud of you. You have come so far compared to where you were a few years ago. You didn’t think you would even get this position and was terrified about starting your career. You thought your entire college years were going to just go to waste. Look at you now. You have a job, where you are loved. Everyone comes to you whenever they need help, whenever there are many other people they could go to. You are the sunshine in everyone’s day. They know they will never have to deal with someone rude whenever they need assistance. You always keep up this mask like everything is a -okay, so they won’t feel bad for bothering you. I’ve seen you while you’re at work. Maybe, you should see if you can get a day off here soon and we can just lounge around all day.”

You immediately bursted into tears because of his words. You’ll never understand why or how he can put up with you, constantly being so stressed and drained but he does. You couldn’t be more thankful for him.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay.” He whispered pulling you closer to him and pressed kisses all over your face with dramatic signs in between, trying to draw a laugh from you. “Take a moment to just let it all out then let’s eat because I can hear your stomach growling and it sounds like there is an angry goblin inside of you.”

#damien haas fluff #damien haas imagines #damien haas x reader #smosh x reader #smosh imagine

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abbysdolly · 1 year ago

Note

RAAAAAAA VIKING ABBY AND READER

(idk if you do x reader stuff i just saw your requests for asks lmao)

⁀➷ 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑾𝑶𝑳𝑭-𝑲𝑰𝑺𝑺𝑬𝑫 ˚₊‧⁺˖

𝘷𝘪𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨!𝘢𝘣𝘣𝘺 𝘹 𝘷𝘪𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

ೀ › 𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: OMG anon I've been thinking about viking!abby so many times before! And thank you so much for being officially my first request! hope you like it and sorry if there's any errors hehe. (Also I took the last name for Abby because of Eivor the main character of Assassin's Creed Valhalla, and the style of female Eivor is how I envision viking!abby) ♡

ೀ › 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Reader is female, suggestive content so minors do not interact, fluff and lightly mention of battles and scars. Let me know if there's anything else! ♡

(Special thanks to @andromeda-abides and @little-star-bun who helped me proofread this fic ♡)

There she was. Accompanied by the imposing howl of wolves, ax in hand. Crimson droplets adorned her shield and clothes while her slightly chapped lips quivered with irrepressible courage. She fought like no man known could. The way her ax moved smoothly like the wind itself was hypnotic and filled with such grace, passion and anger.

Her golden hair trapped in tiny and big braids, some strands danced freely adorned with silver rings that made it look like the golden light of the sun combined with the mysterious silver stars from the midnight sky.

And in that exact moment you knew that your heart belonged to her, for eternity.

The stories people told didn't do her justice. Especially the first time you saw her fight. The first time your eyes and hers connected with deep love and devotion between the clashing of axes and bodies that now sleeped eternally waiting for the Valkyries.

Like a ravenous wolf she ended every enemy in sight; she was a living myth. Some even believed that she was perhaps the unknown daughter of Odin himself, given that her strength was comparable to the All-father himself.

But only you could see the truth behind those tough looks and that pretty scar that adorned one side of her face, a scar of forgotten battles that helped her to build the respect she had now. You could see the woman who had fears and weakness like all humans, but there was nothing more beautiful to you.

"Freyja, Lady of the North, empower me. Give me strength, withhold my fear, embolden my spirit... Give me courage" she whispered, the familiar view of her kneeled in front of the wooden statue of the Goddess only meant that another battle was waiting beyond the threshold of your shared home.

The prayers to the Goddess Freyja and Odin were the only things that accompanied Abby to her battles, the battles to defend the honor of her people and most importantly to defend the land where you lived in peace with her.

"They are back, they are safe!" one of the children shouted while running to the entry of the village. Soon enough you heard the cries of the families that awaited for their beloved ones.

Your feet moved with such speed, eager eyes searching for Abby that was greeting the many children around her that were impatient to know the adventures she had this time.

"Okay, okay. I'll tell you all that we saw before dinner!" she answered to the children who ran and laughed around her.

Her beautiful eyes met yours making you feel goosebumps like the first time you exchanged looks with her.

A tender smile found a place in her face. She fought for days and she was beyond tired but seeing you was the best part of coming back home.

"Abby, you're back! Oh you can't imagine how much I missed you. Are you alright? Are you injured?" your voice breaking like the thin ice that covers the rivers in the winter, filled with emotion.

Trembling hands caressed Abby's face, making sure she was really there and not something created by your mind. But no, she was there with you.

"Of course I'm back, like I always do" she responded with a now toothy smile and continued "Shh, shh. I'm alright my love, I'm here with you… Finally" her lips soon found yours with deep need and desire, her familiar pine scent filled your senses while the heated kiss said better than any words could.

"Let me help clean you up before dinner, you need to rest my love" you whispered once the kiss ended, her forehead pressed slightly to yours while her big and calloused hands holded your face with tenderness.

A surprised gasp left your mouth as soon as you were now being carried away by Abby, your waist resting against one of her broad shoulders like it was nothing.

Shortly after between laughs she put you down, the door already opened because of the urge to see her a couple of minutes ago "Well, thank you for the ride" you teased as a smirk appeared on Abby's face.

She sat on one of the two wooden chairs, humming when you began to peel off each one of her clothes leaving her upper body bare "You don't have to thank me, I like carrying pretty girls" her cocky attitude always made you smile endlessly, Abby carried herself with lot of self confidence and you couldn't blame her, she was powerful and beautiful. And she knew it.

"Oh, so you carry every pretty girl that crosses your view?" you questioned, eyebrow arched slightly. Your question made her chuckle "Well, not exactly. Just one pretty girl caught my sight… and my heart" she revealed, her voice and gestures exaggerated making her look like a teenager in love and you couldn't help but roll your eyes and smile at her.

"You're such a tease, Abby Wolf-Kissed" her legs opened to leave place to yours, your hands undoing her tight braids making her blonde locks fall beyond her shoulders and covering her chest slightly "But I love you that way" you continued, this time in a gentle and loving whisper due to the closeness. The dim and warm light of the lantern illuminated the scars spaced across Abby's body, your fingertips traced along them and you remembered how some of them were cleaned and treated by you.

She looks up at you, feeling safe under your gaze and touch "I thank the gods for letting me see you again. And I thank you for doing my duties while I'm away" her hands found home on your waist trying to have you closer.

"You don't need to thank me, Abby. I enjoy taking care of our people like you always do, I thank the gods as well for bringing you back to me… Safe'' her eyes sparkled beautifully and just by looking at them you could feel all the love behind those icy orbs.

Her hands caressed your waist going down slightly to your thighs, missing the feeling of your warm body against the skin of her rough hands. Your cheeks warmed up at the familiar feeling of her hands roaming your body with such confidence, your body molding like clay under her hands making your current task of cleaning her body something so hard to do.

Her eyes never left your face as you tried to soak a piece of cloth to clean hers. The black painting around her eyes now slightly faded and easily to clean, the dirt going away allowing you to see those pretty freckles spaced across her nose and cheeks "You're so beautiful" you whispered again now cleaning her neck and shoulders, the air thick enough that Abby could cut it with her ax.

She smiled, her cheeks getting warm as soon as she heard your compliment. Even though she was tough and strong you could make her so shy with just a compliment "Not as beautiful as you, my love" she answered in a whisper, the muscles of her toned arms flexing each time you passed the wet cloth on her warm and freckled skin.

Her gentle, slightly calloused hand cupped your cheek, searching for those beautiful eyes of yours. Searching for those pretty lips she craved so badly until she couldn't control herself anymore and stole a kiss from them. The passion glowed through both your pores and each gentle touch said a small "I love you" onto the other's skin.

The only thing in your mind was her and only her, all of her. Her smell, her hair, her lips, her body, how warm she was, everything.

"I have something for you" she breathed between the heated kisses. "Close your eyes for me, please" her velvety voice making your head fuzzy (obviously not for the heated make out session you had a couple of seconds ago).

And so you did, you closed your eyes and sighed nervously. Her gifts and surprises were always exciting but this time everything felt even more intimate, more serious.

Gently Abby put a gold ring out of one of the tiny pockets in her belt.

"Open your eyes now, my love" she whispered, leaving a gentle kiss on the tip of your nose while putting the precious ring on the palm of your hand. Her heartbeat fast, eager to see your reaction.

Your eyes opened slowly seeing her red cheeks and a shy smile, she took your hand and took the ring again putting it slowly on your ring finger, eyes not leaving yours.

The ring was shaped like a little flower with gemstones for the petals, each one shining beautifully almost like Abby's eyes. "Oh Abby this is so beautiful, you–" she cut you off with a gentle kiss on your lips "My love… Would you marry me?" each side of her hands on your face as she said that, her voice making you enter to the Valhalla almost instantly.

"Of course I want to Abby! I would be so glad to be your wife. I'd love to" you answered with tears of happiness running down your cheeks. Her smile grew bigger from the pride of finally having you as her precious wife. Her strong arms lifted you with ease and she laughed with joy while she spinned you around the house.

Both of your hearts felt the same thing as the first time you saw each other. With unconditional love and devotion, though she wasn't a seer, she definitely saw that you were for her and only her; your destinies were sewn together by Fregga herself.

Thank you for reading! Any like reblog or comment are really appreciated, have a good day/night and don´t forget to drink water! love ya! ♡

#ೀ › 𝓼𝓪𝓲𝓪 𝓲𝓼... 𝔀𝓻𝓲𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰 ! ·˚ ༘₊·#♡ › 𝓽𝓸: 𝓪𝓫𝓫𝔂 𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓼𝓸𝓷 #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson #abby anderson x fem!reader #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson x y/n #abby anderson x you #abby anderson fluff #abby anderson fic #abby anderson smut #abby anderson tlou2 #abby tlou2 #the last of us abby #abby the last of us #wlw #anon! 💗

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legitalicat · 8 months ago

Text

Forged From Death - Sihtric Kjartansson x Widow!Reader

An: Thank you so much @foxyanon for the request and officially turning me into a Sihtric girl. I hope this is everything you wanted. And @zaldritzosrose thank you for creating the header you are amazing!

Masterlist here!

Separate from the normal CW section for a special attention. This is going to be dark as reader thinks cruelty of her husband, Sigefrid, and her father towards those around them. No explicit examples of violence or abuse. I really was just trying to capture emotions without talking of direct acts.

CW: Language, political marriage really, Sigefrid is not a good man, neither was reader's father, warlord husband and father, scared child, character death, P IN V sex, fingering, dirty talk, gets quite dirty lots of smut, breeding kink, vague talks of pregnancy kink, she/her pronouns, use of you, reader not really described or named, FLUFFY, Stepdad!Sihtric, found family trope, soulmates trope kinda, love and lust and first sight

Pairing: Sihtric Kjartansson x reader

Word Count: 6.2k

You knew what you were. A bargaining chip, a prize. Something akin to a crown, symbolizing power. With your own father being a man who bargained in fear rather than respect, you weren’t surprised when your husband was the same.

Sigefrid Thurglison, rather quickly upon marrying you, decided his family’s wealth and power would be found in England. So, you sailed along with him and his brother to find this for yourselves. You, the dutiful wife, who knows your fate would be worse had you denied your father’s arrangement. You, who disappointed your father from birth by just being a daughter, who he could only use as a piece in his games but never actually respect. You, who married a man just like him.

You remained silent throughout. You played your part well, perhaps too well. Your name was used as a way to remind men of the force your husband could bring upon England. Even if they weren’t directly familiar with your father, they remembered the tales their fathers spoke to them, and they bowed at Sigefrid and Erik’s feet.

Until they met a man by the name of Uhtred. You couldn’t tell if he wanted to die or if he was just too stupid to realize that death was a very real possibility. But he was quick to anger your husband and his brother through way of opposition. And, apparently, Uhtred did not heed warnings well. He was unconcerned with the possibility of your father showing up.

“If he wanted England, he would be here,” said a voice from behind Uhtred upon your first meeting. You looked for the source. When you saw the man, you were certain your heart stopped for a moment.

You had seen beauty before. Land, sky, men, women, all of which held a certain captivating air about them. And yet there had been nothing as beautiful as the man who stood before you. You heard Uhtred refer to him as Sihtric, and your eyes made their way over his form. From his brown hair, to his striking yet mismatched eyes, over the angles of his face, and the swell of his muscles that already could be seen straining against the silver bands he wore, there was no part of him you felt was not hand crafted by Freyja herself to be the perfect embodiment of everything she represented.

And Sihtric noticed you. By the gods, did he notice you. You were pretty, prettier than any woman he had ever seen. He couldn’t tell what started swelling faster when he saw you looking back at him and smile: his cock or his heart.

That was the day he swore he would have you.

When he saw you again, it had been over three years. He hadn’t gone a day without thinking of you if he were honest. He was waiting so he could have his chance with you. Those few moments of seeing you was what carried him through the years. You were the face he saw with every victory and every stroke of his cock.

He only wishes it were under better circumstances.

You still resided in the fortress after Sigefrid laid dead on the ground. You knew the only way any of this would end would be if Sigefrid died. And you knew, as you listened to the herd of feet approach the room you were hidden in, that he had.

Sihtric was the first in the room. He knew that Sigefrid would never leave you far behind. It was unfortunate such a man had the honor of being your first husband. Sihtric, though, was perfectly fine being your last.

A feeling that did not waver when he saw you holding a small child close to your body. There was a fear in both of you, but you had the rage of a mother in your eyes. He could see it, and he wanted you more for it.

“He is dead?” you asked Sihtric as others, Uhtred and another you vaguely recognized, came into the room.

Despite having only seen him once, you knew Sihtric could be trusted. You couldn’t explain why. Maybe it was lust clouding your judgement. Perhaps it was a sign. Or maybe you were being stupid and crazy and you would only end up right back where you have been your whole life.

But, his eyes made you feel like that would never be the case again.

“Aye,” he said to you. “How old?” He nodded towards your child, your daughter, who looked at him in fear. He held up his arm, wordlessly keeping Uhtred and the other man from coming any closer.

“Four. She was born here, before we were sent away,” you told him truthfully.

“Her name?” he asked you. He continuously looked between your faces, barely capable of holding himself in place and not taking you in his arms.

“Astra.”

He said nothing else to you for the moment, instead crouching down to be on the same level as your daughter. She clung to you tightly.

“Hello, Astra. Are you hurt?” he said quietly to her. In silence, she shook her head. “Is your mother?”

“Mama is safe, I am safe,” she whispered.

It caused your heart to ache when you heard her repeat the words you told her when everything got quiet. Had you never left England, you would’ve been able to leave Sigefrid. You knew you would have had somewhere to take Astra to keep her safe from him. But when your husband was banished, he swore he would return with your father, and you knew better than to wait around for that. Your only saving grace now was that your father had died before you got back to Norway.

“Would you like to leave here? You and your ma can come with me, if you would like.”

Astra looked up at you, tears in her eyes as they had been all day. You knew that while Sigefrid had never touched either of you, he had given you both more than enough reason to be fearful. And you wanted so badly to make sure she never had to live with this fear again.

Your daughter looked to him and nodded silently. He extended his arms towards her slowly.

“Come then, little one. I will get you out of here,” he said softly. Astra, who had never trusted anyone but you, walked directly into his arms.

The sight of his arms wrapping themselves around her small body caused your heart to ache. It was something you had never thought to wish for, your daughter being in the arms of someone but you. Now you could only pray that this was her new normal.

“I’ve got you little one,” he whispered and stood up, holding her close. “I want you to close your eyes tight and put your forehead against my cheek until I tell you. Can you do that for me?”

She nodded. You watched as she squeezed her eyes shut, her whole face squinting up. Her forehead rested perfectly against his cheek, her brown hair matching his in a shocking way. It almost felt as she was made of him.

“You are as pretty as your ma, brave just like her too,” he told her. You were surprised when you heard her giggle. He looked to you. “Take my arm, Lady. “

You did as he said, stepping closer to him and holding tightly to his arm. He made sure you were not questioned or stopped as he led you out of the fortress. He already had stepped in as your protector and you barely knew him.

When you were outside the walls and far from the carnage, Sihtric finally stopped. You watched as he sat Astra down to stand on her own. He told her it was safe to open her eyes, and she looked relieved when she opened them and saw you.

“Lord,” Sihtric said as he saw Uhtred approach. He instinctually moved to stand between you both.

“Are more men following him?” Uhtred asked you, looking at you over Sihtric’s shoulder. His hand remained on his axe, though he did not unsheathe it.

“He was the last of them,” you told him. And that was the truth. Any men that hadn’t abandoned him before this battle laid dead.

“Do you have anywhere to go?” he asked.

You knew the truth of what he was asking. You were a widow now. Your husband’s family were meant to take care of you now, and your daughter. But Sigefrid was the last of his family, having killed his own brother during his last rampage. Their father had long since been dead and had no living brothers.

“No, Lord,” you told him. “He had no surviving family. And my own father died two winters ago. I was the only child.”

He looked past you to Astra. You could see in his eyes he did not trust you. And you did not trust him. You could not find it in you to trust anyone but Sihtric. But good men, which you ultimately believed Uhtred to be, did not harm little girls.

“You may come with me and my men, then. Until you find other…arrangements,” he said gruffly.

It was three and a half months when you began to worry about your future. You thought of Astra and worried endlessly for her. Her father’s reputation would stain her future forever, you feared. You had no way to provide for her truly. Should your fears be proven true, you wouldn’t even be able to arrange a proper marriage for her when the time would come.

But, you thought perhaps you were worrying too much for Astra. You stood in Uhtred’s hall, watching as Sihtric, Osferth, Finan, and Uhtred spoke, Astra settled peacefully on Sihtric’s lap. She was loved so deeply by Sihtric, and by extension the men he fought beside, one could be forgiven for thinking he was her father. Interestingly enough, she looked more like Sihtric than she ever did Sigefrid.

Uhtred looked to you and nodded, having noticed your presence for the first time. You two had a somewhat uneasy trust in each other now. Well, trust that if either of you betrayed Sihtric, or the others, the other would respond with a blade. And that seemed to make you friends.

Sihtric noticed you, immediately lighting up when he looked at you. He beckoned you to him, to Astra, the both of them holding your whole heart.

You were insane, you knew it. But from the moment you saw him those years ago, you loved him. He was obvious. You would burn down all of England for him if he were to ask.

He had never done anything but protected you and Astra from the very first moment. The day Sigefrid died, it could’ve been so much worse for her. But Sihtric was the one to make sure that no bad ever touched her since he met her.

It was one of many ways that everyone knew you two would find your way to each other. Sihtric would give everything for and to you. As far as he was concerned, the universe began and ended in you and at your feet he would worship. And there had never been a moment in which you doubted his devotion to you or Astra.

“Go say hello to your ma, little one,” Sihtric said softly to Astra.

“Okay, papa,” she giggled as she crawled off his lap while you knelt down.

It was not the first time she had referred to him as such, but it touched your soul every time you heard it. Sihtric looked to you immediately to make sure you did not think to correct her. He was not deluding himself into thinking his presence in Astra’s life could erase all the bad. But he knew, without a doubt, that she was his. From the moment he first held her in his arms, she was his girl and there was no argument he would listen to.

Your darling girl ran into your waiting arms. She was giggling, as she had done since your arrival in Coccham. She was happier than she had ever been. She felt more peaceful.

“Mama, mama, papa is making me an axe,” she told you excitedly.

“Oh is he?” you asked, raising an eyebrow as you looked up to Sihtric. He blushed brightly, especially when Uhtred and Finan began to tease him for being in trouble.

“M-my love, I only,” he said, beginning to attempt an explanation.

“She will need an axe if she is going to be on my shield wall one day,” Uhtred told you, grinning from ear to ear. He stood from his seat, drumming a bit on the table, before he jogged over to you and Astra. “And if there is one thing my Little Star will be it is an excellent warrior.”

You watched as Uhtred picked her up and put her on his shoulders. She squealed and giggled until she was settled on her perch.

“If you are teaching her, then I consider myself lucky to have such a warrior in my home,” you said, standing, while grinning ear to ear. “Perhaps she will be knowledgeable enough to teach our next child.” You looked directly at Sihtric as you said ‘our’.

“Our next ten,” he said back to you. He was still blushing a bit, but he enjoyed these moments.

“And you shall birth them all? If it is up to me, you get five,” you said to him.

“You would give me five more children?” he asked excitedly. You could practically see him buzzing.

“Should you decide to take me as your wife,” you said nonchalantly, shrugging to him as you walked over to the table he sat at.

Once you were in his reach, his arm wrapped around you, hand resting on your hip. There was no hesitation from either of you as Sihtric pulled you onto his lap and you wrapped your arms around him.

At first, you had withheld from such public affection. You were only a few months a widow, you felt as though there was some need to respect your loss. But, when your husband had been so cruel to everyone around him and Sihtric was such a soft presence, you lasted perhaps a week before you made your affections clear.

“You honor me, my love,” he said softly. “To think you have already blessed me with one, and are willing to bless me with more. One would be a fool to deny the chance to be your husband.”

You kissed his cheek. It was truly simple with him. There was no darkness. Only love and warmth flowed between you both.

“You will make sure she is careful?” you asked him, bringing the conversation back to the idea of Astra getting an axe.

“Of course, my love,” he confirmed to you. “You know nothing means more to me than the safety of my girls.”

It was less than a month later that you were married. Sihtric made sure it was everything you dreamt of it, everything you were not afforded the first time around. He was watching as you danced with Astra. He loved both of you more than anyone had loved two people.

“Congratulations,” Uhtred said as he sat next to Sihtric. “You will make a fine husband.”

“Thank you, Lord,” he said, smiling. His eyes went between you and Uhtred rapidly, wanting to make sure you never disappeared.

“I see our Little Star got a hold of your hair,” Uhtred smirked as he grabbed a drink. Sihtric’s hand moved to his head, where there was a tiny braid in his hair.

“There is no finer braider in all of England,” he said. “Finan has offered to keep her tonight.”

“Did he tell you Osferth and I were asked to come too?” Uhtred chuckled.

“He did, Lord,” Sihtric laughed, taking a drink of his ale. He sat the cup down, looking to his Lord, his friend. “I want her to be mine.”

“She already is,” Uhtred said. “Nobody will deny that.”

“No, I mean....I want Astra to be just as the children of my blood. I want her to inherit, I want to be responsible for her. Entirely. And should she and my wife allow, I want to give her my name,” Sihtric said.

Uhtred could see a determination on his friend’s face that he had not quite seen before. It shone through in a burning heat. He lived for the family he had with you now. No oath superseded his oath to the two of you, and none ever would.

“Should they wish it, it is done. I will make it known Astra is to be no different than any child of your blood,” he promised his friend. “Now, go dance with your wife. Take her to bed. We will keep our Little Star.”

With a clap on the shoulder, Sihtric stood from the table and began to work his way through crowd to you. You were twirling Astra around, making her laugh and laugh. He could not imagine a more perfect life for himself.

Sihtric chuckled when Astra noticed him and ran into his legs. He knew she was his. She was meant to be his daughter. He could not be bothered by something as trivial as blood. He, of all people, knew family was not limited to blood. Family was created by love, and he loved her enough to create a universe.

Then there was you, his dear wife. He thought you looked stunning in your dress, the deep red color feeling like the physical representation of his love for you. You were more than he could have ever dreamed of. All of his life, he wanted to be what his father wasn’t. A good, honorable man who stayed for his family and loved his wife. A man worthy of love and respect.

And he realized that’s exactly how you saw him.

“Hello, my love,” you said to him when you saw him.

“Are you talking to me?” he asked teasingly, picking Astra up when she stopped dancing.

“Yes, my love. Though, perhaps you would much prefer my husband,” you said, smirking.

“Aye. After all, I will never call you anything but my wife again,” he said and rubbed his nose against Astra’s cheek.

“Hehe papa,” she said as she hugged him tightly. “I love you.”

Sihtric could feel his heart skip a beat. She had called him papa for months at this point, that was no surprise. But, Astra had not told him she loved him. And there was something so precious about hearing it.

“I love you, little one,” he said softly, pressing his lips against her forehead.

You smiled at the two of them. You wanted to hold this moment in your mind for the rest of your life. Capture it, freeze it for all of eternity, something you could hold onto and remember love.

“Now little one, Uncle Finan is excited to start your time together. Your ma and I will see you in the morning,” he told her as he sat her down.

“UNCLE FINAN I AM COMING!” Astra shouted as she ran off through the crowd.

Every person parted to let her through, allowing your eyes to follow her path to Finan. She was loved by most any in town. Her personality was loud and bright enough so that everyone knew her. Of course, it helped that she was always right by your side, and you were always close to Sihtric.

And you knew, at least within the confines of the town walls, she was safe to move about. Most everyone would agree that harming a child is egregious. Everyone agreed that harming your child was the fastest way to ensure a brutal death by the hands of Sihtric, and a quick one by Uhtred and Finan. Even Osferth, sweet Osferth, would pray for his God’s forgiveness as he took the life of anyone who would lay a finger on Astra. She was loved, she was safe. For the first time in her life she did not flinch when she was more than an inch from your skirts.

“Being my wife suits you,” Sihtric told you, drawing your eyes from Finan and Astra to him.

He looked at you with pure adoration. He worshipped you. Made certain that he loved you enough to make the bad parts of your life feel like another lifetime.

“Just as being my husband suits you,” you said to him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

His arms wrapped around your middle, pulling you tightly to him. He breathed you in, feeling overwhelmed by you. Everything about you was intoxicating to him. From your beauty, the way you smelled, the way your body pressed against his own, there was nothing that could dampen his desire of you.

“Then it seems we are in agreement,” he said.

“That it does,” you said softly, leaning forward slightly. Your lips hovered next to his ear. “And I think I would like to feel my husband.”

You felt him shudder with your words, the unmistakable hardness of his erection beginning to dig into you. It had not been difficult to get him excited these last months. Even after both of you had agreed to wait until you were married, you had enjoyed riling him up before he returned to his own home.

“I have dreamt of this night for years,” he muttered to you. “From the moment I first saw you, I knew you were mine. I dreamt of my cock sinking deep into you for hours on end.”

It was your turn now for a shiver down your spine. There was no part of you that could deny dreaming of the same thing for just as long. In the years trying to exist outside of England, the nights where you went to bed amidst yells and cheers during another fight to the death for Sigefrid’s amusement, you dreamt of his mismatched eyes. Of his sharp beauty. Of a life you now got to share with him.

You weren’t sure who broke away first between the two of you, but it wasn’t long before you were walking down the streets to his, no your, home. The home you would grow old together in, gods be good. And the two of you couldn’t keep from stopping every few feet, pulling the other for a deep, passionate kiss.

When you finally arrived at the house, he picked you up and carried you over the threshold. In fact, he did not put you down until he could place you on the bed. You had barely recognized that you were laying on it before he was hovering over you, repeatedly kissing your neck.

“Such a pretty wife,” he muttered with every kiss. You put your head back to expose more of your sensitive skin. “Have been blessed, haven’t I? Blessed by the gods to be given such a pretty wife.”

You placed a hand on the bag of his head and gripped his hair firmly. Despite the pull on his hair, you only brought him closer into you. You could feel him starting to grind himself against your thigh, desperately looking for some relief.

“Fuck, Sihtric,” you moaned out. But when his name left your lips, he nipped at your neck quickly. It took you by surprise, causing a quiet squeak to escape you.

“Be a good, pretty wife and do not use my name tonight,” he whispered in your ear.

“Such a demanding husband I have,” you teased. “So desperate to fuck me he has to rut against me like an animal.”

He groaned into your neck at your words, his right hand beginning to fumble with the fastenings of your dress. You ignored the shaking of your own hands, your need of Sihtric outweighing your nerves. This was meant to be, after all. And you had faith it would be perfect.

“Use your mouth for better things and perhaps I will let you fuck a child into me tonight,” you told him. This time it was not a groan, but a quiet whimper, that left his lips. His fingers struggled with undressing you, the way it was held to your body being more complicated than he had thought.

He pulled back entirely, sitting up on his knees as he began reaching for the knife he carried. He cut the fabric of your dress away from your body. You stared at him, eyes heavy with lust.

“Nothing but a dress, you can replace it,” he told you. You could only nod at him as he helped remove the material away completely. After a moment, the tattered remains of the dress and his knife fell together to the floor, just as quickly forgotten.

He stared at your naked form. He could not help it, truly. Everything about you was perfect for him. He leaned forward and kissed you once more, before his lips started trailing down your body. Along your jawline, down your neck, over your collarbone. He only took pause when he got to your breasts. Sihtric’s left hand began pawing at one while his lips wrapped around your nipple.

You moaned quietly as he sucked while massaging your soft flesh. Your eyes fluttered shut, whimpering every time he decided to graze your nipple with his teeth. You wanted to beg him to give you more, to pleasure your aching cunt.

He groaned to himself before pulling away from your breasts entirely, muttering a promise he would play with them more. You almost started to laugh, only for it to catch in your throat when his fingers found your slick. He smirked down at you.

“You must really enjoy this, wife,” he whispered teasingly. His fingers ran up and down your folds, deliberate in their light touching of your pearl.

“Of course, I have only dreamt of you as my husband a few dozen times now,” you told him. Your thighs trembled a bit as you resisted the urge to buck your hips into his hand.

He hummed quietly as he allowed his finger to sink into you. While you became a whimpering mess, he just slowly thrust his finger in and out. Never had you known such bliss. His finger felt thicker than you had anticipated.

“What is it, pretty wife? Cannot think through your pleasure?” he asked you, looking directly into your eyes.

Your resolve finally broke. With a moan, you allowed your hips to move to meet his hand. All you could think of was chasing your pleasure with him.

“You say I am demanding, but you are so needy,” he cooed. He pushed another finger into you, curling his fingers slightly with every thrust of them. His touch was perfectly focused on the spongy spot inside you.

“Love, my love, please, fuck, please,” you moaned. You couldn’t finish a single thought as you felt a band tightening behind your navel.

You had only experienced such a feeling with yourself. Pleasure had never been at the forefront of your life. Until now, at least, since Sihtric seemed determined to make you reach that point. He increased the speed of his fingers movements.

“Cum for me,” he practically demanded of you. His voice was quiet, meant only for your ears, but forceful in nature. “And then I’ll give you my cock. Such a good girl, you deserve it. Don’t you, my love?”

“Y-yes,” you whispered. You gripped the furs under you tightly, the edges of your vision going fuzzy.

“Deserve my cock, deserve my love. You have both, entirely, you understand?” he asked you, his thumb barely ghosting against your pearl.

“Yes, fuck, my love, my husband,” you whined pathetically. It seemed to please him, at least enough.

His thumb finally rested against the bundle of nerves, rubbing circles in time with every thrust of his fingers. The band finally snapped as you cried out, back arching off the bed. A jumbled mess of his name, husband, love, and expletives left your tongue.

You were able to watch as Sihtric removed his touch from you entirely. He brought his fingers to his lips before he sucked them clean, earning another whimper from you. And then you got to watch him undress, his shirt and pants being flung away in a matter of moments.

You weren’t entirely sure which of the gods had blessed you, but you thanked everyone of them when Sihtric stood naked before you. His toned chest and stomach was near flawless, save for a few scars earned in battle. The Thor’s hammer pendant rested against his taut chest. Your gaze washed over the grooves of his form, able to count each muscle, until they finally landed on his cock.

He was blessed even then. His heavy cock bobbed with need. When his eyes caught yours, he smirked at your hungry gaze. He was long and thick enough to make you question just how exactly you were meant to take him in entirely.

Sihtric couldn’t hide his smirk when he grabbed you by the hips and pulled your body closer to his. He groaned softly as his cock now rested against you, already collecting your slick.

“I love you,” he said to you, his voice softer than the cocky look etched on his face would have you expect.

You tried to stutter out some response before he started rubbing himself against you. Anytime the head brushed against your pearl, the feeling stole your words and sent shockwaves through your body. There was a pride he felt at already having you responding like this before having even fucked you.

“I love…fuck, fuck me, fuck I love you,” you finally managed to get out.

“Good girl, using your words,” he cooed. He moved his cock to start pressing against your entrance. “Are you going to keep being a good girl, love?”

“Yes,” you said weakly and nodded

He smiled at you. He grabbed your leg gently, hooking it on his arm, as he leaned down to bring his face closer to you. Your knee pressed against your chest while he kissed you. You melted into his kiss, your hands releasing the furs you laid up on to hold his face gently.

Your kiss only ended on account of the way he couldn’t hold back his whines and whimpers when he pushed into you. He couldn’t help the way your name left him when you took half of him without issue.

He pulled himself away to look down at your face. After a moment, he looked between your bodies and groaned when he saw you impaled on his cock.

“Fuck, such a pretty wife I have,” he muttered. “You ready for more, my love?” he asked when he reconnected your gaze.

“Yes,” you told him, nodding eagerly.

He groaned as he moved his hips forward. It was pure bliss for both of you. His cock throbbed with every thrust, your walls clenching tightly around him. Every nerve ending in both of you felt like it was on fire as your connection only grew. Sihtric watched you every second, trying to make sure it was as mind blowing for you as it was for him.

His speed increased desperately. He needed more, you needed more. Your hands roamed his body, your moans filling his ears like a beautiful song. The head of his cock kept moving against the spongy spot inside, making your thighs tremble once again.

You watched him as he thrust into you. His pendant and your breasts moved in time with his thrusts, captivating him. You could see him teetering the line of control and instinct. He wanted this to be sweet for you, to be perfect, everything you deserved. He has heard enough stories of your life to know you deserved more than to once again be used for someone else’s pleasure.

“Such a good husband already,” you told him, gripping his biceps. His gaze softened when you spoke, his hips stuttering a bit. “We have all our lives for you to make me scream your name in pleasure, do we not? “

He nodded wordlessly. His cock never once stilled in you as he watched you. He kept grunting under his breath, every noise ending in what sounded like a whine.

“Then I say tonight, I want you to finish inside of me until there is no doubt that come morning I am carrying your child,” you commanded.

His mouth hung open, his hips slowing a bit as he stared down at you. You could see him searching for any uncertainty on your face. Yet, he could search for his entire life and never find in you any doubt of him.

You couldn’t help yourself. You leaned up and took his pendant of Thor’s hammer in between your teeth before looking directly into his eyes. His thrusts picked up in speed, going harder and deeper than before.

He closed the gap between you, his lips coming next to your ear as he finally released your leg. On one side all you could hear a symphony of skin slapping against skin as he fucked you at an almost bruising intensity. In the other, he began to whimper and whine for you.

“Pretty wife, amazing mother,” he whispered in your ear, punctuating each word with a thrust of his hips. He was throbbing inside you and you could feel just how close he was. The way he twitched and pushed against you, his weight pressing into your chest, the band started to tighten again.

“Already a desperate man for you,” he grunted. You were incapable of getting any sound to leave your mouth. All you could do was focus on his word, his sounds, his movements. He was all you knew to be true in this moment.

“Can’t wait to see you pregnant. Probably prettier, round with child and tits swollen with milk. Fuck,” he said to you as his hips started stuttering more frequently.

Your orgasm overcame you finally, causing you to cry out his name. You were barely aware of his whisperings still in your ear.

“That’s a good girl, fuck, yes, my pretty wife,” he practically growled in your ear. Finally, his thrusts stopped, his cock buried inside you as he released ropes of hot cum into you. Sihtric let out a sound with every throb.

You were trembling when he pulled himself from you, breathing heavily. Carefully, he maneuvered the furs out from under your body before carefully covering you both. You moved closer to him and laid your head on his chest. His arm wrapped around you, holding you as though he was terrified of you walking out the door.

You laid there in silence for several moments, basking in the way you felt. With being given from your father to Sigefrid, you had never known much of love or safety. You had never really known kindness. You had feared for so long that the violence and chaos both of them had brought into their lives and halls would haunt you forever.

Yet, laying here in Sihtric’s arms, you almost couldn’t remember how they made you feel. He made you feel so powerful, so loved, so worshipped beyond belief that you would now go days without thinking of the horrors of your past. Even Astra seemed to feel nothing but safety and love.

You turned your face to look at him. He was looking happily down at you, a cheesy, lazy little grin splashed on his face. You were certain nothing could get better than this.

“I love you,” you said softly. “Especially your eyes.”

He rolled them, yet the smile never faded. “Which is your favorite?” he asked.

“Oh no, that is like trying to choose a favorite mountain, or snowflake. Each so unique, so special, one would be an ignorant fool to pick a favorite,” you told him, smiling up at him. “Luckily, I do not have to. I get to enjoy them until I die.”

“Oh? And if I die before you?” he teased, kissing your forehead.

“You are not allowed. I cannot let you walk into Valhalla without me there to greet you, even if that means I will need to pick up an axe again,” you said simply. It was your truth. “I have spent my entire life waiting for the love you give me. You are not allowed to ever make me live without it again, husband.”

Sihtric tried to hide it, but you could see him wiggle just a bit, his smile spread further, when you addressed him as husband. In the moments past, he was too distracted by lust. But now it was sinking in, for both of you, and you felt just as joyful as him.

“Of course, wife. I would not dare leave you to raise our ten children alone,” he said, smirking as you laughed.

“I believe I said five more,” you told him, raising an eyebrow.

“I believe Freyja will bless us with a small army, as much as I plan to bury my cock in you,” he told you, kissing your forehead. “Speaking of.”

Sihtric smirked before kissing you again, pulling you on top of him. You felt your laugh rumble in your chest as you couldn’t help but kiss him back.

You were finally no longer a bargaining chip.

Taglist: @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @gemini-mama @alexagirlie

#the last kingdom #sihtric x you #sihtric kjartansson #dividers by benkeibear #sihtric x you smut

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steviebbboi · 2 months ago

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🎃 - Ask a creator about a current project or WIP.

Can you post a snippet from the oldest WIP you have? 😄

Cate <3333 thanks for this ask 🥹

oh man, i had to dig into the archives for this one! This was written in 2016 - (dude what~). Tbh, im not sure that it'll ever get written but who knows! This was meant to be my first Steve x Goddess!Reader series fic starting from Thor's landing on Earth! This is so unfiltered/unedited omg lol -- anywho! Voila:

Untitled WIP (Steve Rogers x Goddess!Reader)

A distinctive, loud ‘boom’ echoed in the city of New Mexico. Citizens stopped to look around in wonder. After a few minutes, people began to dismiss the boisterous sound in amusement.

They shouldn’t have.

She was beautiful, naturally. The Goddess, Freyja, blessed her well. The woman was surrounded by a bright light, shaped to fit her and her only. She hovered above the sand covered ground before landing roughly, causing a loud thump to be heard across the city. The rings of light now gone, her position was of servitude. She had both hands curled in a fist, her knuckles pressing into the dirt. One knee touched the sandy surface, little specks of rocks pressing into her olive skin.

The woman looked up, a smile gracing her face. Whines of police sirens were heard within earshot. She saw tiny forms of metal hit the ground around her, sparks flashing following a loud bang!

“Peculiar…” She thought, suspecting their violent intent.

She cocked her head to the side and barely twitched her finger. After a few seconds, all the bullets stopped in mid-air as if they were stopped by an invisible force. The invisible veil no longer glimmered as the bullets fell to the ground.

“I thought the humans were supposed to be peaceful.” She voiced to the open sky, knowing the all knowing guard heard her.

Police cars and black sedans came to an abrupt stop in front of her. The men in uniform quickly stepped out of the vehicles before taking defensive positions behind their car doors.

“Stay right there!” and “Freeze!” were heard as she took a step towards them. The woman fearlessly smiled before taking another step. Their guns cocked and fired at the woman. She quickly put her hands in front of her with her palms facing them. The shimmery barrier appeared again and disappeared as before. The smile wiped off her face and was replaced with a scowl.

“Enough.” She muttered with annoyance. The ground beneath them started to grumble and growl as the cars and sirens went off in a frenzy. It started to shake, everyone looking at the floor in a panicked awe. A loud crack could be heard as a crooked, jagged line started to appear on the dust covered Earth.

The agents could only look amazed until a brave soul gathered some courageous sense to throw these crystal-like rocks surrounding her looming figure.

She looked down at the opaque crystals in alarm as they formed into a wide triangle-- the sediments glistened under the sun’s rays until a bright beam shined from within to exert a power she has never felt before.

The woman visibly winced as a loud, high pitched ringing noise pierced her eardrums, effectively, creating a psychic chaos in her mind. She twitched her fingers, visibly this time, towards the crystals but found that they didn’t even budge.

She started to growl, teeth bared and banged against this static force field, violently, only for the noise to amplify the more that she hit the inner walls of the shimmering prism. She clutched her head with a pained groan and proceeded to knock on the barrier until blood spouted from her nose and ears. Eventually, causing her to black out with a defeated air.

AN: Unfortunately, no Steve in this lil snippet but would anyone be interested in reading this pairing?? 👀

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Captain America/Steve Rogers Masterlist

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Tag(s): @patzammit @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @stellar-solar-flare @mercurial-chuckles

@caplanbuckybarnes @autumnrose40 @innorogers @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory

@rogersbarber @blushingrn @alexxavicry

#steviebbboi answers #steviebbboi wip #goddess!reader #steve rogers x goddress!reader #steve rogers x female reader #i like the mythicalness of it all but idk!

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endless-ineffabilities · 2 months ago

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chem ov pocketshot #1 🌙

Darling coming home late to their flat after filming, to find Ewan already asleep on his side of their bed. She'd quietly sneak in, giving him a wide berth so as not to wake him up.

But in the morning, she'd find that he pulled her to him sometime in the night, and his body cocoons her own—with his arm wrapped tightly around her waist, his leg draped over hers, and his nose pressed to the back of her neck.

E: I'm kinda offended you didn't cuddle me.

D: Didn't want to wake you up, babe.

E: Excuses, excuses...

D: Well we're cuddling now so—

E: Not enough. You'll have to make it up to me.

D: ... How?

E: Hmm... well... it seems like he's awake...

D: oh for the love of—

#chemical override #idk what this is #ewan mitchell imagine #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell x reader #aemond targaryen #everyone say thank you freyja's bf for irl prompt 🥲#i'm on the fence about 'pocketshot' too #if we'll do more of these #we need a better name lol

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ryuzakemo128 · 4 months ago

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Wrath of a Scorned Woman

Pairings: Freyja Raengyreon & Floris Baratheon / Aemond Targaryen x Female Velaryon Reader

Content Warning: cussing and swearing.

Words: 765

Masterlist

Credit 4 Dividers: @cafekitsune + @strangergraphics

Summary: Heavy footsteps had come from down a cavernous hall. Floris ringing a bell from a velvet cushion, engraved dragons into the gold bell. “You are a coward, and I will see that history forgets you.” Floris spoke, looking at Aemond with his mistress.

“You have mistaken your own importance, husband. I have no further need of you or this ‘marriage’. I have found something greater than anything you could have ever provided me.” Floris eyes narrowed at her would be ex-husband. “I have found a dragon grander and greater than your eyes had ever seen.”

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Heavy footsteps had come from down a cavernous hall. Floris ringing a bell from a velvet cushion, engraved dragons into the gold bell. “You are a coward, and I will see that history forgets you.” Floris spoke, looking at Aemond with his mistress.

Towering over the three of them, a woman, a giantess of a woman. Eyes of blue violet mixed with light grey. Lumen in the dimly lit room. Burgundy red hair long enough to brush across the floor. Freyja didn’t have to say anything. All she had to do is stand there. A clear enough warning to those who break their oaths.

Floris might have harmed his mistress. But Aemond did something far, far worse. He ruined her chances of having children of her own. Ruined her chance of getting something she wanted. She didn’t care for the consequences, damn them all, and she will bring his entire house around his head. Bring him to his pathetic knees and crush him like he crushed her. May he die in a pool of ruin, like the seven have foretold in legends.

Floris determined to bring down her soon-to-be ex-husband and his mistress. She didn’t care if she were to die in the process. She had a dragon, and for once in her life she had the power to change things to make her own life better. Better for herself and her house. “Greens can’t keep their oaths, it seems.” Freyja snarled into his ear. “Can’t help themselves, can’t help but ruin everything they touch with their slimy, rotten hands.”

Floris’s smug grin spread across her face, ‘I will crush your bones until you lay broken in front of me. You will watch your house burn until nothing, but cinders, ashes and embers, remain. I will have you dragged from one end of king’s landing to the other until you are swimming in an ocean of pain.’

Aemond looked into Freyja’s eyes, his heart beating like a drum inside his chest, “You don’t know what you’re asking for, Floris.”

“But I do. According to your brother. You just need her. This marriage is no longer needed if that is the case.” Floris snapped at him. “And you. (Y/N) You have nothing to give, and you are worth nothing in comparison. Keep that pathetic excuse of a man. Keep him as you rot into the earth when I am done with you. You shall bear witness as I ruin him and everything that he will ever have. I will kill you all and decorate you on my walls. A better end than you are worthy of.”

(Y/N) spoke up, "You think you can just cast us aside? You're a fool, Floris. Aemond is the heir to House Targaryen, and I am his chosen. Your threats mean nothing to me."

"Aemond is prince regent and Aegon's son is his heir. Your existence means nothing to me any longer." Floris corrected. "Perhaps if you were more interested in books than Aemond's cock, you would have learned that by now."

“As you can see, I do not need you anymore. I have found someone greater than you. Grander. She will give me everything I want and more.” Floris declared, she found herself a dragon. A dragon more liable to eat the ones the House of Targaryen rides. “We have no further need of House Targaryen. Take your leave NOW.” She smoothed out the wrinkles in her dress and walked out of the room.

Freyja glared at the two of them, “I will devour your dragons, crush their bones and force your entire family to watch. You will not leave this world without knowing the pain you have brought down. I will eat your dragon sheepstealer, Vhagar and Sunfire. A mere snack. A small payment for what you have done to my benefactor. Or you could annul this pitiful marriage you have no interest in and leave. Otherwise, I will, and can, devour all that you are. All that you will ever be.”

Freyja stood guard outside of Floris’s bedchambers. Disallowing entry to anyone Floris did not approve of. “Aemond take your mistress (Y/N) Targaryen and leave. You are no longer worthy of Floris Baratheon.” Freyja growled as she prevented him from chasing after Floris.

#aemond targaryen x female reader #aemond x female reader #aemond x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #female reader #f! reader #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond fanfiction #aemond x you #prince aemond #aemond kinslayer #prince regent aemond #floris baratheon #Freyja Raengyreon & Floris Baratheon

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as-is-above-so-below · 1 year ago

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The Captain - Simon Riley x Sniper!Reader, Wife!Reader

Blurb 2: Too Fast

I'M ALIVE! Thank you all for your patience :) I've had so many big life changes in the last four months (and in the coming months) - it's hard being an adult, people. I've been traveling (mainly visiting @lethalchiralium a bunch <3), planning a big move, looking to land a new job...all the things. Anyway! Please enjoy. Blessed be, and Happy Yuletide!

<< Previous | Next >>

“Si…”

“Hm?”

“He’s getting too big.”

Simon turned his chair slightly away from his desk to peek over his shoulder. In the doorway to their office stood Freyja with a six-month-old Arthur on her arm, clad in a cow-print onesie. The little hood was pulled up over his head, sporting fluffy little ears on top, along with a pair of horns.

He just about melted when Frey pouted at him and sniffled, rubbing their son’s back. Simon was up in an instant, padding across the carpet to stand by her side, a soft, sympathetic smile gracing his features. He bent his head a little and attempted to get the baby’s attention, gently brushing his back with his fingers “Art. Artie…” he hummed, the last syllable drawn out a bit. “Look at Dada, Art.”

Arthur did eventually turn his head, after a moment, preoccupied with gumming his toy and confused by the interruption. The hood that used to hang over his face and block his vision now sat snug on his fine hair. There was no need to adjust it back to meet his big, curious eyes.

“Hi, pup.”

Simon wasn’t his preferred parent by any means; that privilege was reserved for his mum. Still, on seeing a familiar face, the baby smiled around his teething ring, and his fat cheeks chubbed up as he cooed and wiggled in Freyja’s hold. He pressed his hand between the two, his palm against Arthur’s chest, and took the infant onto his forearm, his little back against his chest.

Simon let out a dramatic huff, kissed Art’s head, then patted his belly. “Oh, yeah,” he said, giving his wife a playful look. “Look at those big, manly legs of yours. Thing’s a bit tight on ye, now.”

The baby craned his neck, trying to look back at his dad as he spoke, and quickly getting frustrated and crying out. Simon chuckled and turned him around, supporting his neck and peppering kisses on Art’s rosy cheek. When he was satisfied, he leaned down for a quick kiss from Freyja.

“It lasted longer than I thought it would. He’s nearly busting out of it.”

“Simon!”

“What? He’s six months old, Freyja. He’s been wearing it since he was born. Oversized, might I add.”

“Shut up. It’s my favorite. My little moo cow.”

“We can buy him a new one.”

“He’s growing too fast. I hate it.”

Don’t I know it?

To Simon, it felt like Artie had only been born yesterday. Where did the baby in front of him, who was sitting up on his own and already using a sign or two, come from? He had no idea, couldn’t say where the time went. God forbid he blinks, and suddenly he’ll be walking and chasing after his sister-

No. It’s fine. That’s what babies do, yeah? They start eating solids, learn to crawl, then walk. Then they go to their first day of primary school, then…secondary…

Stop it.

He settled for a soft, “I know, love.”

Arthur cooed up at him again, a sound known to pull easy smiles from the man. He would listen to it forever, if he could.

“Yeah? Do you like that idea?” Simon asked, tracing patterns on Art’s back with his fingers again. “Do you want a new cow onesie?” A little smile from Art. “Alright, pup. Dad will get you one.”

taglist: @esthervalea, @miss-leto, @sweetestcowboy, @blueoorchid, @apocalypticseagull, @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction, @covenlovenn, @330bpm-whiplash, @gnoccheyy, @jaggernauticals, @dwkfan, @untoldshortsofthefandomsdoms, @bobfloydsgf, @maviee, @thomaslefteyebrow, @kyovy, @prodyng, @scout-fang, @avalkyrieofparis, @misshoneypaper, @berryjuicyy, @voteforpedropascal, @beakami, @addictedtothefictionalworld, @kaghost, @witchy-writing, @67-angelofthelordme-67, @thychuvaluswife, @mysticalpandabear, @cabreezer0117, @halfmoth-halfman, @peachesofteal, @nirvanaaaonly, @ysljoon, @ssoliva, @fenixyrie, @voodoo-writer, @eleazarkate, @tomhardy41, @glitterypirateduck, @cringeycookies, @captainquake42

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #call of duty #as is above so below #the captain as is above so below #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x sniper!reader #husband simon riley #simon riley x wife!reader

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darktrashsoulbear · 2 months ago

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Getting on this right now! I honestly can’t wait to write it!!!

Thinking of entering into the world of writing so if anyone has any requests for Aemond Targaryen x reader and maybe also Aegon please send them through and I’ll try to write an imagine or drabble to do with it - potentially a longer piece of writing if I’m feeling super inspired. Will probably add more characters and other fandoms later on! Just leave a comment here or send me an ask!

#freyja 💙#endless-ineffabilities #ewan mitchell x reader #ewan mitchell #angel 🫶🏽

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itstheendofthegoddamnworld · 4 months ago

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Swallowed Whole by The Flame (Messmer the Impaler x Tarnished! Reader) 5

MASTERLIST

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Summary: You go on a hunt to find Redmane Freyja.

A/N: Oh boy, another fight scene that I cannot write. This chapter mentions scenes of violence: blood, gore, swearing - all the fun things.

A03 link

Chapter 5: Challenge

"If thee dare betray me, I shall maketh sure thou art never blessed by mine own mother's grace again."

It haunts you his exact words, whispered as if death was watching your every move.

It's a challenge, though one where he can judge you for how foolish you are. If he really wanted you to do all this for his loyalty, you would've rather faced the golden hippopotamus again.

You tell yourself you'll prove him wrong, and wipe that smug attitude away when you return. That is if you do it in time. There is a sense of doom to your mission, one you think could go wrong. Redmane Freyja - someone you didn't get the chance to speak to - is a warrior through and through. Capable of standing for herself, and impressive in her prowess.

Having followed the Moorth Highway south, avoiding furnace golems and trolls that sit by ransacked carriages. By the time you see the ruins on the second night, darkness has fallen, and rain slashes in front of you. You decide it's best to take a rest.

You sit by the closest site of grace, and rain shields your vision, giving less visibility, but it is only the grace you look upon, watching intensely.

Torrent nudges you out of your thoughts momentarily, bringing a gentle hand out to feed him berries you gathered, whilst you rip at the bark-like cured meat. "What have I gotten myself into, Torrent?" You whisper to him tentatively, as your stead munches happily on the treats you provide. A flash of lightning casts the tree behind you to look like a mighty beast, yet you do not jump. Instead, you sigh, your body aches and your mind wishes for rest. "Doom follows me, and I can only welcome it."

Sleep does not come easy, not that it has for many nights.

When morning comes, you dismount from Torrent, and the stead disappears out of sight, back into the whistle for when you need him next. The ruins are a large formidable mess, crumbling from age with the heat of the stone burnt from eternal flames. You're aware of its underground structures, but it is not that you're interested in.

For in the centre, stands the person you've been looking for.

"Tarnished, I am pleased to see you made it out alive from the Shadow Keep." Freyja greets you smoothly, turning to face you, "Is the deed done? Is the tyrant dead?"

"No Lady Freyja, he is not."

The woman only gives a hum to your answer, "That is a shame. I will have no doubt when I tell Lady Leda, she will not be too pleased either.

"She will not hear of this news, Freyja," There was a sense of acceptance to your words. You pull forth your nagakiba, bending your knees as you hold a defensive stance, "For I have come for your life instead."

She is silent for what feels like forever until you hear the absurd thing. Laughter. She is laughing at you. "Did your new lord ask of you to do this? Ah, you foolish girl, what have you done?"

You don't answer her, but you feel something boil inside you. Fight me. Fight me now. "Do you believe Lady Leda will not hear of this? The news of my death will trigger my allies to come find you. Do you not hear yourself, who will stand with you? Miquella will not take lightly hearing of your deception."

It is only with a heavy sigh that eases you. She unsheathes her great sword, flashing like a giant sun. "Very well, Tarnished. May your foolishness be your undoing."

"May it be then." You say, and before you in a flash, she charges.

Metal hisses against metal as the great sword hits the side of your armour on your chest, caught mostly by your nagakiba, thankful that it does not slice through. It does, however, leave a long scratch down the steel.

You grunt. Freyja is a mighty warrior you admit, but she sweeps with her great sword with the intent of hacking your head off rather than trying to whittle you down. A foolish mistake, you note, rolling out of the way as her great sword swings down, hitting the very spot you just stood on.

You land a quick slash towards her, having almost no effect as she dodges easily, grabbing you tightly by the forearm and headbutting you with a crack that you think has split your skull. She tosses you backwards, her laughter raucous and vexing.

You continue to circle her, darting back and forth, slicing, which makes her have to try looking out for you. She makes for a big target, swinging her great sword around as she huffs and grunts like a beast not wanting to surrender. A true warrior of Radahn, you wonder why she chose to leave him. For what feels like ages, you both jab at one another, taking turns with neither gaining a hit or dodging the last second. Only one of your slashes with your nagakiba gets her on the back of her leg and you smile in victory underneath your helm, only to dodge out the way clumsily from another one of her heavy-hitting attacks.

"You're slow, Tarnished." Freyja mocks. "Is this the warrior Messmer fought? I feel sorry for him."

You hiss, slashing at her most vulnerable areas, legs, arms, twice at the shoulders in an attempt to get her to become sluggish. Freyja would not slow though, grunting from time to time, but overall seemingly not injured.

You wonder if Messmer did all of this as a cruel joke- to have you face the largest and most formidable of Miquella's followers. It would be easy to laugh too, for you were indeed the fool who accepted.

You continued, earning a slash to your shoulder at one point that has you promptly rummaging for a healing flask, dodging another attack as you down it. Your shoulder feels stiff, but it has healed the wound quickly enough for you to keep going for her. Circling, slashing, rolling. On and on, this dance goes on until you do begin to notice she is becoming slower.

You stagger her with a parry, going up behind her in a flash to stab her through the rib, getting through the gap in her armour as you kick her forward. Blood ruptures out as she gives a loud grunt, cursing you loudly as she lands on her feet before you can attack her again.

"I will not die today, Tarnished." You can hear her gritting her teeth, leaping like a cat into the air, her sword and herself swinging in time before she lands on the ground right in front of you. Debris and dirt hit you, rocks scrapping your exposed areas not covered by armour and you're flung backwards, landing not so gracefully on your back from the force of her landing. She strides towards you, thinking victory is ahead.

You roll to stand, thinking swiftly as you pull forth a perfume bottle, throwing it her way. It casts pockets of fire in her way, and she stumbles through it, patting herself as you can hear the sound of her blood bubbling and boiling from her cuts.

The next foolish thing you could do whilst she was occupied with the perfumed flames was charge towards her, running through the flames you cast as you scream, leaping onto her, kicking her in the gut that she is winded enough to have her great sword knocked from her hand. Now with her unarmed, you raise your nagakiba over your head, thinking it would be enough to strike the exposed part of her neck to give her a quick death, only to find she is slamming her fist into your gut too, not once, twice, knocking your sword from hand as she lands a punch to the side of your face, knocking you off her and onto the ground.

You scrabble, as she gets up, wheezing and whimpering as you pull forth another weapon. Small and delicate, the knife from your pocket would need to do a lot of damage, only she laughs at the measly size of it, charging you once more.

You dodge another punch to the side of your head, fear coursing through you, feeling more afraid than ever before. To be classed a traitor to all was not what you wanted, but you could feel yourself needing another flask immediately.

Freyja caught sight of it as you tried to reach for it, grabbing your wrist and twisting, releasing the bottles as they flew overhead you both, crashing with a shatter against some debris, clearly broken.

You can taste blood in your throat, coughing some up the more you move. Everything burns, pain that moves from one part of your body to the next part, screaming for rest, mercy. Freyja cries, raising her hands over her head as if ready to slam her fists down upon you when you see an opening. The exposed part of her armpit is uncovered, the blood seeping is her own. You miss the fists to your head, gripping the knife and using your other hand to drive it upwards, screaming with the force.

Freyja only hisses when you're face to face with her now. Her golden-masked face is all you can see, but you wish to believe her face has written on it either fear or approval. You don't think it's been driven hard enough into her chest, driving it deeper which earns a louder cry from her, followed by shallow, deep breathing.

"You fought well, Tarnished." She wheezes, "I pray Kindly Miquella will think the same."

With a final curse, she bends, falling to her back, her breathing ceasing with the blade poking out between her skin and armour.

It was only when you felt the sense of victory wash over that you felt something was off. Pain kicks in, replacing the adrenaline with a stinging sensation that begins to burn between your ribs. Horror rushed over you, catching you off guard. A cold sweat washes over. Crying out, you jump back away from Freyja's crumpled body, running shaky hands over your body to find what was sticking out of you. Oh Gods. You dread, crying out as a blade you hadn't noticed she had pulled forth, with a handle as thick as your forearm was now protruding in your side.

You had felt many deaths before and suffered great injuries, but none had been so foul as the feeling of torture before death came. You needed to find a site of grace before you lost everything. Gritting your teeth, your hands gripped the handle to the blade, reeling back from the pain of it so far lodged into you. One, two, three! You didn't want to give yourself any time to react as you pulled it out from you, screaming from both the alleviation and fear bubbling in your mind.

Immediately, your legs gave way and you fell backwards, limbs numb as you still held the bloody knife in your grip. You groaned in disgust, throwing it away as you remembered through it all that you couldn't just leave without the proof Messmer asked for.

"He better be fucking grateful." You spat, clutching your bleeding side as you tried your best to even kneel. With only the knife on you to use, it would be better for hacking than the thinner blade of your nagakiba. You knew what you had to do. Staring down at Freyja's corpse, you kicked off her helm, revealing a mass of unruly hair.

"Forgive me." You whispered, revealing her neck as you pressed the knife into her flesh, the sounds of hacking and sawing could be heard through the ruins.

Once off, you threw the head into a bag, tying it to your belt as you whistled for Torrent. It was hard not to stop yourself from gagging, the thick smell of blood wafted in the air, creating an even fouler stench in the ruins. You had been through worse, you reminded yourself, dying is now as familiar to you as waking up in the morning, but even on the verge of death, it was the worst feeling to experience. It was not the same as just suffering a quick and easy one, waking up by grace fully healed.

Once here, Torrent stands solemnly beside you, warily swaying as his beady eyes access you. It takes some effort to mount him, for the beast is patient, and you can only silently thank him for not bucking you off for how many times you try getting your leg over. Finally atop, your skin feels both hot and cold, your armour was sticking to your skin as if it was boiling you alive from the inside. The soft fur of Torrent was all you had to concentrate on, despite the feeling that your brain wanted to switch off. You fight it for as long as you can, hoping Torrent can guide you the way you came.

You didn't know how long you had been travelling back when the pain was ebbing away at your consciousness, your body was weakened and struggling to stay atop Torrent. Your skin had paled, hands were jittery as you lost the strength in your fingers to hold the reins. Your vision was spiralling, swaying like the waves of the shoreline, not certain what was up and what was down, but the feeling of your body swaying, and finally, falling and falling in slow motion.

You thudded to the ground, Torrent halting as he inspected you with a muzzle to your face, coaxing you to stay awake.

"Torrent." Breathing noisily, you would apologise to him when you found yourself at a site of grace. You dreaded knowing you would fail at Messmer's quest in his mind, but before you could think further of it, darkness swarmed your vision, and you thanked whoever was watching over you finally gave you comfort.

From the darkness, came distant, cold dreams, filling your mind with doubt:

..."They are incredible, are they not?" There is a sense of dread and awe as you stare up at the sky, bright and bold with the sounds of dragons. The creatures, large in age, sweep and dive down, creating rushes of wind to almost knock back the men who stand on the ground. Some are still wary, when the dragons came once, it had been to destroy towns and wage wars. Now, having them as allies was an unseen miracle. "It is your friendship with them that is outstanding." You marvel, turning to the man beside you, as regal and charming as those with royal blood. He carries himself with a way of understanding all, a calming presence that all could admire. He smiles at you, resting a hand on your shoulder. "I am certain they would love to meet thee. I have told them much and more." "Me? I am just a mere knight, here to serve, my Lord." "Yes, but my most trusted ally and loyal friend." The man chuckles, leading you down as if now is the right time to introduce you to the winged creatures.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

... "Mother is to remarry again." The regal man says, this time you don't know how much time has passed. There is a slight tinge of disappointment in his words. He has his back towards you, the parchment thrown across his apartments. "I received her message when I broke my fast." "You know to whom?" You ask. "The Carian Queen's former husband, Radagon." "And of your father? What becomes of him?" "He is to begin his long march with many of his armies, my mother has decreed." He turns to you, sorrow that was not just in his voice but in his eyes. "She asks that thee join." You don't wish to, you want to plead and beg, but this sadness is not just felt in him but yourself, something you cannot understand nor explain. You think this man is unknown to you, so why do you feel such disgrace? All you can do is nod, acceptance heavy in your chest. "Very well, my Lord."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

... A half bottle of wine is now neglected, and large calloused hands dance along your hips and thighs, lips pressed to the pulse point of your neck. "Let me speak to my mother," the man uttered, pulling you closer on his lap, "she will let thee stay." "I can't," you say, his hands felt so realistic in the fogginess of your mind, fingers stroking his jawline, "it is my duty not just to serve you, but your family as well." "I know, my sweet knight." He murmurs in understanding, a sense of despair consumes him, and when he tries to pick you up to continue things in the bedroom, you stop him. "Not yet, my Lord. I only wish to be in your arms tonight. One final night before I must leave." He smiles, kissing you with the need to remember the outline of your lips. "Anything for thee."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

... A battlefield of blood and bone, ash and carnage. Men in golden armour surround you, in the dying, groaning for mercy and death, their voices dying down in numbers. You clutch your bleeding chest, holding a grand ornate sword in hand, and sweet tears drip from your eyes. You cough, spluttering crimson blood that dribbles down your chin. You stare up at the endless sky, with a man's name being muttered from your lips as you die.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Your lungs burn when you wake from a death-like sleep, coughing up the air and drinking it in as if you can still somehow feel the cold blade deep in your chest. You go to touch it, only to remember that it was all a dream.

"Easy, milady," a voice pulls you back to reality, and when you look at your surroundings, you're not staring into the golden strips of grace, but the roaring flames of a fire. Opposite you, sits a nomadic merchant, plucking at the strings of his instrument, "your wounds are still open."

Messmer. Is your first thought, and you dread to wonder if he thinks you've betrayed him. You're careless in the way you try to stand, running a hand over where the blade stuck through you, only to find heavy bindings that have been kept to stop the bleeding. You hiss softly, guilt pouring through at the attempt this merchant has made to keep you alive.

"It shall be enough to get you to find a proper healer if you're quick." He says in a soft tone, watching you through clouded eyes, his face half covered.

"Torrent... where is Torrent?" You're blinking back from the intensity of the fire in front of you, blinking back tears you're certain to have come from the cinders, not your life-like dreams.

"Ah, your stead," the merchant points, and through the bushes, you spot Torrent, munching on berries with no care in the world. "We found you in the nick of time, milady. If we had been any later, well... you would've been a goner."

You try to laugh at that, but you're unsure if he knows you're Tarnished. "Thank you," you stand shakily to your feet, throwing a coin his way that he accepts with some surprise, "I must be going now."

"I must warn you, Messmer's soldiers lurk on the roads. Best to keep to the woods." The merchant speaks with uncertainty as you coax Torrent to come to you. He does, stroking his snout before climbing atop. You feel just about better now that you've had time to rest, but you need to head back to Aldwin so he can stitch you back up. You've been gone so long without a site of grace that you fear you will begin to wither.

"It is alright," you speak earnestly. "He is looking for me."

A/N: I am aware that it's recommended not to pull sharp objects out of you unless you wish to bleed to death, but I guess Tarnished thinks it's the smartest plan. I do wonder who this mysterious man is-- oh well, I guess we'll never know *wink wink*

#messmer fic #messmer x tarnished #elden ring messmer #messmer x reader #messmer the impaler #elden ring fic #tarnished! reader #elden ring shadow of the erdtree #elden ring dlc #part 5 #itstheendofthegoddamnworld writes #messmer the impaler x reader

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axelsagewrites · 11 months ago

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Could I ask about something fluffy for Halfdan the black from Vikings please for the V day creations 😁🥰🥰🥰🥰Thank you 🥰🥰🥰

Halfdan*Lofn

Pairing: halfdan x goddess!reader

Word count: 1352

Warnings: forbidden love, made up norse festival bc they didnt have valentines (or anything similar i could find)

Masterlist Here

Halfdan never felt the need to make friends. Not in the way his brother Harald did at least. Halfdan had drinking buddies, war buddies, hell even fuck buddies, but he did not see the point of befriending another lord just for his company. Though Halfdan was not the brother destined to be king.

Halfdan quite frankly didn’t understand why they even had to stop in this godforsaken village. So, when his brother told him they had to stay another five days to take part in their festival he found himself groaning and whining like a toddler.

The only reason he hadn’t abandoned his brother and went elsewhere was because of you. well, he didn’t know your name only your face. But the gods had made it the most beautiful face he’d ever seen.

When he asked his brother about the festival even Harald seemed to know nothing. your village had been named after Freyja so every year you would honour her but neither knew what to expect.

The bonfire was higher than any house with children dancing around the flames and drinks flowing freely with the adults. As Harald nursed his third cup his eyes fell upon you and finally, he felt like this may have been worth him staying.

You were sat alone, a few feet away from most on a fallen tree staring into the flames. Before he could think the alcohol had decided for him and he was crossing the grass towards you. “May I sit?” he asked, trying to act nonchalant but he felt an odd blush raise in his cheeks as you lifted your gaze.

Your eyes scanned over him for a moment in silence, from his tip toes to his hair, before finally you gave a small nod. “I’m Halfdan,” he said, breaking the silence once more as he sat down, and he felt relived you gave your name back. “Why are you sitting all alone?” he asked making you laugh a little, “What?”

“Nothing. I like someone who does not beat around the bush,” you said, a twinkle in your eye that made him blush again before your eyes returned to the fire, “I like to sit with my thoughts especially on days like this. Everyone seems so happy,”

“And you, are you happy?” he asked, his gaze fixed on you even if you do not return it.

However, he did notice the smile that tugged on your lips, “I can be at times,” usually he’d roll his eyes at an answer like yours, but this felt different.

“You never answered my question,” he said, and you hummed in response, “Why are you alone?”

“You were the first person to ask to sit,” you replied, finally turning to face him, “I think the better question is why did you?”

Up this close Halfdan could see the flames reflected in your eyes despite the fire being so far away. he could feel its warmth as if it was sat next to him, “I suppose I just wanted to meet you,” he said, his head becoming hazy.

“Are you well? you look like you may faint,” you said, brow knotting in concern.

“I don’t know,” he muttered, “It is very warm is it not?” he said, pulling at his shirt to fan himself.

He only stopped when you stood up, “Come with me. I know where you can cool down,” you said, and he did not need to be told twice.

He followed you down the hill the bonfire was on down to the edge of the shore where you slowly walked along as the breeze from the water finally cooled him down, “I’m not sure what happened,” Halfdan said when he finally felt he could breathe again.

Your smile almost took it away though, “It’s alright. Many become overwhelmed by the end of the night. The fire can burn awfully hot,”

“What is the fire for? I know your celebrating Freyja but why?” he asked, pausing in his tracks when you laughed softly.

You stopped as well and turned to face him, “We do not only celebrate her. well, I do not at least,” you said, turning your gaze to the sea, “We celebrate love. Freyja is of course only one of the three we celebrate,”

“And the other two?”

“Well one is Sjöfn though some rumour she is just Frigg in disguise,”

“Why would a goddess need to disguise herself?” Halfdan asked, suddenly very interested in every word you had to say. “Is she not the goddess of marriage?”

“She is. as well as prophecy and motherhood however sadly, love does not always lie in the marriage. That’s where the third comes in. Lofn,”

“I recognise the name,” he said though he could not place from when.

You chuckled however, “Many do. Few know why. She is protecting the forbidden love. The true love. The love that cannot always be, but you will never lose. She is who I celebrate on nights like these,” you said as your eyes turned to gaze back at the fire.

Halfdan felt a flare grow in his chest, “Why is that? I cannot imagine a man loving you and letting you go no matter the reason,”

Your lips quirked into a smile as your eyes turned to him, “I am not in a forbidden love. Not yet at least. Though I do find the notion romantical,”

“Romantical?”

“Romantical. Mesmerizing. Enthralling. Whatever word you choose. The notion of a love so strong it breaks the rules,”

“You do not like to follow the rules?”

“I do not see why I would,” you said.

Halfdan found himself cracking a slight smirk, “I knew there was a reason I liked you,” he said before you decided it was finally time to head back to the fire. As you began to walk up the hill, he decided to ask another question, “Why the bonfire?”

“They say no matter how far you are from the flames you will feel them on your skin if you’re sat with your one love and if you feel a chill stood beside it then it is not meant to be,”

“Is that why there are so many girls sat around it?” he snorted when he noticed just how close to the flames some of them sat. you however chose not to respond to that, and it was enough to make him swallow hard. “Do you believe in it?”

“I do,”

“Why?”

“Because I know it’s true,”

“How?”

“I just do,” you said with a small smile as you arrived back to your original seat, “Your brother is looking for you,” you said, nodding over at the dark-haired man motioning to Halfdan to come over. “I’ll wait here,”

Halfdan sighed, “I’ll only be a moment,” he said as he stalked over to his brother.

“I was wondering where you went,” Harald said as he held out a drink to his brother, “Another?”

“I went on a walk,” he said as he took the cup.

Harald made a face however, “By yourself?”

Halfdan rolled his eyes, “No with…” he said, turning to point to you only to realise the space you once stood was empty, “She was right there,” he muttered before telling Harald your name.

Harald just shook his head, “You weren’t with anyone brother. I saw you walk up the hill yourself,”

“That’s impossible,” he muttered as his eyes scanned the crowd.

His attention was only drawn back when he heard Harald shiver, “You’d think that fire would feel warmer,” he said making Halfdan’s eyes widen.

His eyes turned to the bonfire, staring into the flames. He saw you through them like before but this time he did not see you on the other side. Perhaps he’d drank too much Harald suggested when he assured him no one had been sitting on that fallen tree. However, when Halfdan saw the tree standing unbent and unwavering the next day he knew he had met you. he just had not realised you were a god. A god who he could never love. It was all so romantical he thought.

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#vikings #vikings tv #vikings x reader #vikings imagine #halfdan x reader #halfdan imagine #halfdan the black #halfdan the black x reader #halfdan the black imagine #halfdan fluff #halfdan the black fluff #vikings fluff

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oliwrites · 1 year ago

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could u pls do a sex pollen/potion with loki but the reader and loki are like bsfs in love and they don’t realize it until like afterward??? thank u and i hope ur doing well🫶

Freyja’s Flower

pairing: loki x fem!reader

genre: 90% smut 10% fluff

summary: you are observing a foreign flower from alfheim, but when you’re about to finish up for the night, the flower emits a powder in your face

warnings: SMUT! (18+), sex pollen, masturbation (f), unprotected piv (wrap it if you tap it), dirty dirty thoughts, mutual pining, loki being a smartass

A/N: here is my official attempt on a sex pollen fic! i hope you all enjoy! if you don’t please don’t tell me bc i probably won’t care (sorry not sorry)

word count: 2.5k

You were currently occupying Bruce’s lab while the rest of the Avengers went out on another mission. Bruce had told you to continue the research and observations on the foreign plants you and the team collected on the last mission. Loki, your best friend, was sitting on a table behind you and pestering the living shit out of you.

“Loki if you don’t shut the fuck up in the next 2 seconds, I swear I will sew your mouth shut,” You grumbled, trying to translate the Old Nordic written out on the page.

Your eyes scanned page 64 of Nordic Flowers once more:

Blomst av Begjær (Freyja’s Blomst)

Blomsten av Begjær, eller som mer kjent som Freyja’s Blomst. Er en blomst som produserer en pollen som spirer ut når blomsten føler seg i fare. Når blomsten kommer i kontakt med en person, kan personen begynne å føle feberish, svimmel og spent. Blomsten finnes vanligvis i Alfheims felt og har en oransje for å rosa fargetone på kronbladene og en gul stamme.

“Lokes, care to translate this for me?” You spoke up after giving up on attempting to translate the page.

“I thought you wanted me to stay quiet,” Loki quipped back, not getting off the table and assisting you with your research.

“Loki help me before I kick your ass,” You spat. You heard Loki snicker behind you before getting up and reading the page over your shoulder.

You couldn’t help but blush at the close distance between you and the Nordic God. You would never admit it, but you had fallen in love with him about 2 years back when he took care of you when you were ill. He was a true gentleman and a good friend. Not to mention that he’s good looking too.

He has long, wavy black hair that reached his clavicles, alabaster skin with beautiful green eyes that occasionally had a twinge of gray. His nose was long and defined and had cheekbones so sharp, that you were convinced you could cut yourself on them if you weren’t careful. His thin, pink lips were always curled up into a mischievous smirk, which showed off his perfectly straight and pearly white teeth.

His body was lean, but had a pop of muscle. His triceps always bulged out and strained against the sleeves of any of his shirts. His pectorals were defined and his abs were chiseled to perfection. Your mouth always watered when his gym shirt would stick to his torso from the sweat, because you could see every inch of muscle on that man.

He hummed behind you, bringing you back to reality. He observed the page and you watched as his piercing green eyes flicked among the words written on the page. You then dragged your attention to his pink lips, which he was currently wetting with his tongue. You felt a shiver go down your spine as you thought of the sinful things that his tongue could do to you.

“What the actual fuck, dude. He’s my best friend. Snap out of it!” You thought to yourself, shaking away all of unspeakable thoughts as Loki cleared his throat.

“Nothing important, love. It was just explaining what the flower looks like and where you can find it,” Loki smiled softly, moving a piece of hair out of your face.

“What’s the name of it?” You asked, trying to ignore the blush creeping up on your face as his soft fingertips grazed your cheek.

“Freyja‘a Flower,” Loki replied simply, “but I think you can do more research on Freyja and her flower tomorrow, it’s getting late and you need your beauty sleep,” Loki continued, pinning you to the lab desk, just to close the book behind you and look you deep in the eyes.

“If you keep looking at me like that, I might just have to rip your clothes off, Laufeyson,” You thought to yourself, blushing at your own thoughts.

You tried reaching behind you to grab the book and shuffle away to your room for the night and scream into your pillow for having such an infernal crush on your best friend. However, you miscalculated where you placed the book and accidentally knocked the glass dome Bruce kept the flower in down onto the ground, shattering the glass around it. Loki jumped at the noise, unpinning you from the lab bench to observe what occurred.

“Shit!” You screeched, bending down and grabbing the flower, trying to avoid the thorns that sprouted from the stem.

But before you could place the flower down back on the table. A pink powder like substance sprayed out and puffed in your face. The powder took you by surprise and you began to fall back on ‘impact’ but was quickly caught by the raven haired man behind you.

“Careful, darling girl. Let’s clean you up and get you to bed,” Loki smiled, before taking your hand in his and walking you back to your room.

“Thank you, Loki, but I can walk myself,” You told him, raising an eyebrow.

“I know you can, but I just want to assure myself that you clean up fully. We don’t know what that powder stuff is,” Loki replied, opening the door to your room.

You walked in, Loki following after you. He closed the door and turned back to you. He eyed your blue turtleneck, which was now dusted over with the same pink that matched your face.

“May I?” Loki asked gripping onto the hem of your shirt. You looked up at him, nodding slightly, allowing him to remove your shirt, leaving you in your white bra and black jeans.

Why am I feeling dizzy? Why is it so hot? My room was never this hot before… What is going on?

Thoughts and concerns raced through your mind but was quickly stopped when you were placed on your sink with a warm, damp towel wiping away the pink powder.

“Is it just me, or is it hot in here?” You asked warily, grabbing the hand that was being used to wipe your face off.

“It is just you, darling. Perhaps try sleeping in less layers tonight, maybe keep a window open for a cool breeze,” Loki suggested as he shook his hand free and continued to clean you up.

“He’s so gentle. I wonder how gentle he’d be while cleaning up his cum from my— what the fuck??” You began thinking to yourself again. You were shocked at the sudden change in thought. Hell, you were concerned as to why Loki wiping your face off was turning you on so much.

“Gods, I just want him to ram into me until I can’t walk for a week. I don’t know why I can’t just get the courage to jump his bones already,” You thought to yourself, accepting the fact that you’re gonna have dirty thoughts about him.

Once Loki finished cleaning you up, you jumped down from the sink and walked into your bedroom. You cracked open a window to let the night breeze sift into your room and you began to take your pants off.

You didn’t notice Loki’s gaze at your ass as you bent down to take your pants off. He noticed the way your ass curved perfectly or how your underwear covered up too much of you, based on his own personal opinion.

You unclipped your bra, turned around and playfully threw it at Loki, expecting him to dodge away in disgust, like the other men in the Avengers do (based off of what their wives say), but instead he caught it and shoved it in his pocket with a wink.

“I want that back,” You laughed seductively, walking toward your bed, with a little more sway to your hips. You crawled onto your plush mattress on all fours, displaying your ass to the god behind you. Playing with fire, you nonchalantly wiggled your ass before turning around to reveal your perky breasts to him.

“I— uh.. yeah sure we’ll talk… good night,” Loki stuttered with a red blush plastering his cheeks. You giggled as he swiftly turned around and bolted out the door.

Fuck. It was so hot. It felt like you were on fire. The window being opened didn’t help, and neither did removing all blankets from your bed.

Along with the fiery feeling that stretched across your skin, you felt a sharp arousal piercing throughout your body. Your body was aching to be touched, your slickness soaking through your panties and down your thighs. What is going on?

You huffed out a breath and wet your fingers with your saliva, trailing them down your body. Your fingertips barely brushed your clit and you let out a loud moan. You began slowly rubbing the sensitive nub, moaning out to the ceiling of your bedroom.

Your fingers traveled from your nub to your soaking entrance. You dipped in your two fingers and started at a slow and steady pace.

“Fuck… Loki…” You moaned out, ignoring the fact that you just moaned out your best friend's name. Your free hand moved up and tweaked your nipples, causing you to arch your back.

You pictured that your hands were Loki’s. His tongue traveling down your stomach and to your opening. He’s praising you for being such a good girl, his good girl. He removed his fingers and replaced it with his cock, thrusting into you hastily. He wasted no time to adjust to you as he began to pound into your channel.

You sped up your fingers movement, feeling the tight coil begin to form. You’re almost there.

You began picturing the dirty things he would say to you. How you were his and his alone. How you please him so well. How he loves how tight you were around his cock. How he was gonna cum deep inside you and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

As that last thought coursed through your mind, you released all over your fingers with a shriek. Your hips bucked against your hand as you continued your movements, riding out your high.

Once you came down from your high, you removed your fingers from your core and got up. You elected to take a cool shower and remove all hints of arousal from your body.

After washing yourself and getting out of the shower, a wave of dizziness hit you and you fell to the ground. Heat radiated throughout your body once more and your arousal returned, however this time it was more painful.

“Fuck!” You groaned out in pain and pleasure, you buckled down to the ground from the sudden sharp pain that went through your body, “I need Loki, he’ll know what to do,” You spoke to yourself before grabbing onto the sink and pulling yourself up.

“Loki?” You asked, knocking on his bedroom door. He didn’t answer, so you just walked in, “Loki? I need you to wake up,” I said louder after I closed the door behind me.

“May I be of assistance to you?” Loki asked seductively, leaning up on his elbows laying in bed.

“I need your help…” You say weakly, walking over to his bed, slick wetness gushing out of you as you see your best friend shirtless.

“Let me assume that you’re feeling hot, dizzy, and hot and bothered?” Loki asked, his signature smirk appearing on his face.

“How did you know that?” I ask, raising an eyebrow and crossing my arms.

“Those are the effects of the flower of lust. Or as I told you, Freyja’s Flower,” he smirked, “I perhaps stretched the truth and said that I knew not of the results of the flower’s powder,” Loki continued.

“Why?” Is all you could say, sitting down on his bed to prevent your knees from buckling beneath you from just the sound of his silky voice.

“Are you really so blind?” Loki asked before smashing his lips to yours. You crawled on top of his lap and grinded on top of the erection that was covered by his duvet.

Loki reached up under your shirt and tweaked at your nipples, causing you to moan into his mouth. He took that opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, quickly asserting his dominance in the kiss. You grinded deeper to gather more friction.

“Loki… I need you…” You mustered out in a broken moan in between your kiss, your nails raking down his back.

“That you do,” Loki smirked, almost evilly before guiding your hips up and removing the now soaked duvet up and revealing his erection. He took no time on aligning himself and you took even lesser than no time to sink down on him, rellishing at the stretch your pussy had to do to accommodate his size.

“Fuck… you feel so good,” you moan into his neck, bouncing up and down on his cock at a quick pace. He kissed you feverishly to the point where you didn’t even realize he had flipped you over and began ramming into you.

“You’re so… tight, ahh… faen, just like that,” he groaned into your neck, bringing his hand down and toying with your clit. Your back arched at the feeling and you let out an almost pornographic moan as you felt that familiar pressure build up in your core.

“Fuck! Loki! M’close!” You moaned out, biting down on his neck, leaning multiple different hickeys.

“Cum around me, darling… show me how much you— ahh— enjoy the feeling of my cock,” Loki moaned out, sucking air through his teeth as he felt you tighten around him once more, releasing all over him. He followed soon after, spilling his release inside of you.

“Loki…” You groaned out into his neck.

“I’ll be right back, just lay here and recover,” Loki spoke softly before getting up and going into his en-suite bathroom.

A few minutes later, he returned with a warm, damp washcloth, a glass of water, and some grapes and nuts he had conjured up.

“This’ll sting a bit, my love, just relax,” Loki told you, before dabbing the washcloth on your used hold. You winced in pain from the sensitivity, “I know, I’m sorry,” He apologized while continuing to clean you up.

When he finished he magicked away the cloth and picked up the glass of water and the bowl of nuts and grapes.

“Here, eat and drink,” Loki said, handing you the food and drink. You quickly gulped down the water and began picking and eating at the Asgardian candy.

“Why didn’t you tell me about Freyja’s Flower?” You ask eventually, continuing to eat on the food given to you.

“I've wanted to be with you like that for a while now, and I didn’t know the right way of approaching those feelings, so I just did what my mind told me to do, which was to trick you,” Loki sighed, his head hanging down in shame.

“Loki, I’ve wanted the same thing for a while too, but next time instead of making me unbearably horny, just tell me, okay?” You reassured, tilting his chin up so he could look at you.

“Will you please do me the honor and allow me to court you?” Loki asked shyly, a faint pink blush appearing on his cheeks.

“I would love nothing more,”

#loki #loki fanfic #loki fluff #loki laufeyson #loki marvel #loki x reader #loki x y/n #loki x you #mcu loki #loki of asgard #loki smut #loki odinson #loki god of mischief #loki series

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