#thorfinn x reader

[agappa]

Bubble bath with reader :

They take that sweet moment to take care of you, having your back pressed against his torso. Some wine placed on the edge of the bathtub, with soft music playing in the background. Either he’s reading a book or just enjoying the silence and intimacy of the moment with you in his arms. Then he carefully rubs your body softly, the both of you sharing slow and sensual caresses. There is no sexual intention, you just want to clean yourselves while relaxing, feeling your muscles loosen up with the warm water. He softly scratches your scalp with his fingertips and shampoo, pampering your neck with light kisses. The both of you take your time to rest from the day, and quietly showing each other how much you’re in love.

-> NANAMI , Megumi, Suguru give that man love :’( , Yuta him too :’( , Xavier, Zayne, Thorfinn, CANUTE, Arthur Morgan, Neuvillette

Most chaotic baths of your life. He just splashes you, there is water everywhere. He grabs your foot and tries to drown you (affectionately), while you struggle to get rid of his grasp and he laughs like crazy. Definitely the type to buy yourselves bath toys that are initially for kids, like the both of you would just play with a little water mill. Or you also play music and the both of you sing, so you make your own concert together. When you finally clean yourselves he has shampoo everywhere, and just screams because it stings his eyes, and now it’s your time to laugh. It’s a really playful moment, where the both of you forget about all the troubles from adulthood. And after, he (more delicately) pats you dry so it’s a bit of a contrast.

-> GOJO, Yuji, TOGE, Rafayel, Tartaglia, ITTO

[pfpanimes]

⌕ vinland saga - thorfinn.

like or reblog if you save/use.

[jeweldagger]

the sounds of swords clashing and houses breaking was loud, pained shouts of the villagers flooding your senses.

away from all the chaos, thorfinn had you up against a tree, his hands placed on your hips as he held your ass up, his dick plunging so deliciously into your cunt. eacb thrust came with a wet sound, your pretty pussy dripping all over his dick, along with his heavy balls.

your moans were so loud, so frantic, that maybe even the terrified and dying villagers could hear.

“shut up,” thorfinn would huff, a hand reluctantly leaving your hip, creeping to the nape of your neck, then moving to the front where he squeezed for a moment. “wouldn’t want your daddy askeladd to head, would you?”

you couldn’t help the loud moan that escaped your lips, his dirty words and harsh thrusts were really getting to you. his calloused hand squeezed harder, almost cutting off your breathing. you choked out a moan, a coil begging to furl in your gut.

each of thorfinn’s thrusts was hard, pushing you into the tree. your cheek was rubbing uncomfortably against the bark, a rash would definitely show up later… however, the only thing on your mind was the way he fucked up so nicely into your sweet spot.

the til of his cock was just about to hit your cervix, and you swore you were about to cum that very second, until you heard your father’s voice.

askeladd was shouting at the other viking, commanding them to look for you, his daughter. and you knew you were fucked then…

thorfinn paid no mind, taking that as a sign to fuck you even harder. his thrusts began to grow harder, his hands grabbing onto your hips with a bruising grip. a fire lit in his abdomen, a grunt escaping his lips. he was close.

with a few more thrusts, you came over his cock, the liquid spilling from your little hole. thorfinn continued to fuck you, chasing his high as he revelled in your cute moans.

with a few more harsh thrusts, thorfinn shot his load deep into your pussy, his hot, thick cum reaching a depth you didn’t know existed. a soft whimper left his lips as his hand left your hips, fingers plunging into your tiny little hole.

“don’t waste any of my cum.” he’d growl into your ear, eyes darting towards the approaching vikings.

before you could voice a protest, your clothes were already pulled back on, along with thorfinn’s, the scene completely hidden as if thorfinn wasn’t fucking his cum back into you with his thick fingers.

“is everything alright, y/n?” your father’s voice was loud, his eyes narrowing as they landed on thorfinn. why was that brat so close to his daughter?

[shinjisdone]

𝑇𝜎 𝑆𝜎𝑓𝜏𝜀𝜋 𝛼 𝑊𝛼𝑟𝑟𝜄𝜎𝑟’𝑠 𝐻𝜀𝛼𝑟𝜏 (Vinland Saga; Thorfinn - 𝑺𝒍𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝑨𝒓𝒄, 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝟏)

In which you have joined Askeladd’s band…and grow closer to the Son of Thors - though as your future seemed promising, his thirst for revenge devastated all that you had left.

[Headcanons of how it would be like to meet Thorfinn again after he shattered your heart (based on season 2; both platonic and romantic)

Sᴇᴀsᴏɴ ₁ ﹙Wᴀʀ Aʀᴄ﹚ is here

Part 2: - (Thorfinn trying to accept your existence as a slave)

Part 3: - (Thorfinn finding a reason to live, you finally see him)

Tag list:

@luopenis , @jinsecho , @mitsureigen , @theknightssecrets , @lana-del-stan , @theghostofanficpresent

[Mentions of murder, death, war, slave trade, harrasment against women and whatever awful things happened in the viking era. Slavery will be a main subject throughout the entire arc. Mostly gender-neutral examples but female-leaning ones are there, too.]

[This part will specifically mention: Nightmares, detailed gore and killing, slavery, humiliation, hallucinations, slight romanticization of death/wishing someone to be dead, slight panic]

Time And Time Again, My Hopes Are Gone...

Far west, across the sea is a land. Rich of fertile ground and warm all year round. He can see the stillness of the meadow as the wind softly blows through the trees.

The wilderness is untouched. Far away from slave traders and the flames of war. The sun is benign with its rays that gently fall on his skin. It's warm and quiet. A gale so soft it embraces his throbbing pain.

Far to the west, across the rich and green hill, is a figure drawing closer. Colors clashing with the soft sky and land, washed out compared to the world around him. Nevertheless, he feels his heart picking up on speed and appraoches the figure with painstakingly slow steps.

The colors and the gear are still the same. Old and bented, abused and dull and so was the glare in their eyes. He should not feel a thing here, knowing this gaze all too well, but it still festered fear inside his heart when it is directed at him. The clear blue sky grows red and the sun fled.

Still, somehow he was able to crack a strained, faltering smile. "...What are you doing here?" He needed to take a deep breath, "You still look the same...like yesterd-"

"What the hell are you talking about, dog?"

The feigning smile was wiped off his face in an instant as his eyes widened. He could feel his muscles aching again, his stomach grumbling, his heart shattering.

You looked at him with such distain in your eyes.

It's Like A Never-Ending Marathon...

"How can you even act like this? Does all of this mean nothing to you?"

His breath hitched in his throat, burning hot and sickening as the quietness of the world was cut down by the incoming roars emerging from the scenery behind you. Pumping up their spears and axes, they tainted the meadow red as small figures galloped across the sky. The fires were following closely after them.

"You left...left me, and left this massacre behind you as you trailed over the sea."

Chants of victories rung in his ears as the flames consumed the both of you. The herd of men loud and clear but always seemed too far to touch and reach. There you still stood, your glare as dark as thunder and never-changing.

"Coward. Deranged mutt. Calling yourself a warrior."

Jaw agape, he watched with white, bulging eyes the scene behind you. It was all too familiar that it should have kick in an instinct - but all he could feel was terror.

With a swift pull to your back, you drew the blade out before plunging it with a sprint down to his abdomen. He barely could let out a scream. Instead, wide agape, he looked down with darting eyes to see his father's dagger.

A crooked grin decorated your visage as you twisted the dagger, cut further, deeper horizontally before yanking it out. Blood tainted your skin.

He could feel himself fall. Fall longer, deeper, faster, down, down, down, and down before a scream pulled him out.

I Hear Voices Every Night Of The Ones I Left Behind...

The same quietness he dreamed about surrounds him in the hut. No, a barn it was. It didn't have a door and he constantly reeked of hay and manure.

Right - this was the barn on the farm.

Sluggishly, he got up as pieces of hay fell off his worn out tunic. With a slow and steady gate his legs carried him to the well standing still and cold in the early morning, the sun having risen just a moment ago as well. He reached out with rough and calloused hands to the cold water and splashed it on his face. Always three times at least as the master told him. With each splash, his mind and vision got clearer and finally, he breathed freely.

What a strange nightmare. This hollow feeling expanding in his heart remained even in the waking world but he cannot recall from what.

As the sun rose higher, he made his way over the dirty, sandy road. Not a lot of the others were up and about as he was, though he only paid attention to the forest further away. The tired mutters of greetings flew over him, like a leaf in the cold wind. All he needed was the axe.

The axe cuts. It hits the sturdy trunk, chopping it away bit by bit, splinters of wood occasionally digging into his skin. Though it was as thick as the trees themselves, so no one ever heard a complaint from him.

The axe cuts. No tree shrieks in pain nor does anyone raise a brow at the lone man in the forest letting one tree fall after another. It keeps him awake and his muscles at work.

The axe cuts. The trees die and fall like flies, slowly - as it is with tree felling, he was told - down to every last twig and root it bears. Nothing can be left behind as the master wished it. All needs to be cleaned off the land so he can use it. So he cut and cut and cut.

"Thorfinn!"

Thorfinn halted. Stopped in his tracks as he was told and looked up through lidded, droopy, brown eyes. In the distance he saw a hand waving as the master galloped closer and with him, a younger slave.

Getting off the mount, he steadied his fall. Master Ketil was an older and seasoned farmer. His blonde hair growing thinner, broad but kind face decorated with wrinkles and his wealth showing in his round stomach. Once again, as he often does, he approached Thorfinn with a smile. "You will be getting a friend." Then he pointed behind him and the youngling followed hastily to bow. "This is Einar and he will be helping you starting tomorrow to fell the trees and turn it into fertile farm land. Einar, Thorfinn has been doing this for a bit longer than a year, he will show you around."

Brown eyes followed the man's gesture and fell on the younger one with kempt, auburn hair. Face young and with no stubbles, a small wart at the side of his nose - finished with an nervous and perplexed expression.

His own looked deep into the one of his new companion and found nothing but vapidness in them.

"Oh, uhm...it's nice to meet you." Einar tried to crack a smile. Thorfinn did not.

With a small chuckle of his own, Ketil pointed towards the small forest, talking of an subject Thorfinn had heard of time and time again.

Talks of fertile land, of wheat, of buying and selling, surpassing ones own price and freedom.

Freedom.

Did he have any of that ever in the first place? He doubted it.

But the new guy had a different opinion of it.

"Buying ourselves back?!" Einar stuttered, not believing what the farmer had just uttered, "We can get our freedom back if we just plant and sell the wheat to you?!"

Ketil jumped and blinked in surprise. "Why...yes. Does that not sound like a good deal to you?" "It's not that! N-Not at all! Thank you, thank you so much! I'll gratefully take the offer!"

Without another word, Einar sprinted deeper into the forest. Sighing heavily, Ketil settled back on his mount, ready to go back. "Do show him around for today Thorfinn and don't have him slack off after that. Both of you have a lot of work to do."

The blonde looked back at him with lidded eyes.

"Yes, master."

Dragging himself after the brunette, the young man watched him observe the area in awe. Trees loomed over the two and Einar swiftly turned back to the shorter man, his jaw agape.

"Thorfinn, was it?! Is that something you can do here in Denmark?! You - You can buy yourself out of slavery?!"

That I Love...

In the midmorning, Einar couldn't sit still.

Strenuously, he mimicked Thorfinn's day-to-day work. Inspecting each tree and root, yanking on them with his bare hands in hopes it might detach just a bit, and throwing questions.

Thorfinn found his keenness perplexing.

At noon, Einar awaited food.

Hearing about the service of the helpers, paid guests helping and guarding Ketil's farm, he grew ever so keen again. The helpers were not the kindest folk and seemingly the most hungry as well.

"What is there to complain?" One sneered as he appraoched Einar. The latter showed the crumbles and nibbled cheese in his rough hands instead. "This, this is our food? How is this supposed to be enough for two people? And it was obviously gnawed on!"

"So?" The second man of the trio sauntered closer with a wide grin. "Slaves like you should be grateful you can even eat a day. For someone so small and little, you sure talk big. We helpers wake up each and every day to bring food to lowly rats like you! And none of you even have the brains on how to thank someone for it!"

With a shaking gasp, Einar stepped back. The mere tone. The way the spit splashed on his face as he talks with that knowing glint in his dull eyes.

How could someone be like that? Just a year ago, he was surrounded by normal people, a village and family.

Once again, the helper spits as he scoffed. "Say it, dog," The grin grew ever so crooked as Einar's shock quickly transformed into rage. "Say 'thank you for the food'."

Breath hitched as the brunette took everything within him not to batter the man here and there. Balling a fist, he pulled back - before a smaller figure squeezed himself between the men and held out the crumbs of bread in his hands.

Thorfinn avoided the helper's gaze and looked down, as if giving a woeful prayer. "We thank you for the food."

Einar observed the tension dissolving, face that of an fish out of water, as Thorfinn returned to his work as if nothing happened.

In the afternoon, Einar hauled a sack of hay on his shoulder, heart feeling disarrayed.

Up ahead he followed Thorfinn who carried two sacks on his shoulders. He wondered how he does it despite his shorter and hunched form.

In fact, the blonde always seemed to hunch so far. He wondered how he does the entire labourous work in the first place.

"...How can you do all of this so easily? And with an empty stomach, too, day in and out. Chopping off the trees and then hauling them off the ground...like that old donkey was of any help." He pouted at the memory of the helpers bringing in an old, weak horse as 'aid' while they snoozed under the trees, "And you were so obedient to these jerks, too."

The walk continued to be quiet. The brunette continued to pout, making an even longer face at the one-sided conversation.

"You know, you can report that to the master! No, we should, have to do that! We are his property and these jerks treated us like were are lesser than that! He should know how his slaves are being treated and get rid of these pigs!"

The walk was silent after that as well. Thorfinn did not turn his back away neither show any sign of taking in his words. Einar only pouted even more and bit his tongue - momentarily.

"You're really strange."

As if struck by lightning, the blonde stopped. A force jolted through his muscles and bones that almost threatened to have him let go of the hay. The same force took a hold of his heart, like a fist squeezing it so tight with the intent to kill him. It won't let go.

Calming down from the start, Einar sped up in front of him with raised brows. The blonde's face was frozen in fear.

"...Thorfinn...?"

"What did you just say?"

"Uh," Quickly, he stepped back. Even the way Thorfinn managed to utter the question, jaw agape and frozen as well, perplexed him. "I said you're strange. Like, it's not like I dislike you it's just…just that I thought we could talk more. You're so quiet all the time but then get so obedient around these jerks but then act like you don't care-"

Agonizingly slow does he regain his body. With each word Einar spoke, Thorfinn nodded along, listened and had it ring in his head like a chant. Just as slow, he began walking again. "...I really am, aren't I?" He muttered after taking a deep breath.

"Eh, uhm, what?"

"Strange..."

I'm Trying To Find The Place Where I Belong...

Thorfinn was allowed to call it a day early for teaching Einar.

Today's chores were almost completed anyway with how tenacious his new companion had been. It was an insistence he could not comprehend.

The brunette did not expect much when Thorfinn showed him the way to the small barn, pointing to the heaps of hay and buckets at the corners. The master's house was across the road at least and the well free for him to use.

Einar also expected not much from his peer, as he had learned today when he quickly dozed off. He believed him to be anyway, when he stayed silent through all his questions.

Einar was strange...but the blonde reckoned he was, too.

That night, his visions turned into nightmares once again - but only to be left forgotten again in the morning.

A dark blue sea and an equally dark sky above. The wrath of the gods over the clouds and a hoard of monsters waging further away. He found himself lucky he wasn't so close.

But that relief was cut short by the freezing pain in his abdomen, as he looked down at you, teeth gritting like a beast. When did he grow taller than you?

He always thought you were the same height. Or were you the taller one?

With a growl, you swayed back with the dagger out of his flesh and thrusted it into it again. Labored breaths tried to escaped your gritted teeth, nosetrils flaring up as you only scolwed at him. With great effort and little strength, you drew the blade back and stabbed him again.

"Liar..." You croaked out, the smallest of hints of tears in your eyes, "This isn't where we're supposed to be. You liar..." Another sob and another attack. Blood oozed out of his open stomach like a broken spring and while the pain was unbearable, Thorfinn remained standing.

"You were supposed to take me somewhere that isn't here!"

He watched with terror as you drowned in his blood.

Einar shot up at the ear-splitting shriek. He wondered how none of the master's family had heard.

All he vividly remembered on his first night on the farm as a slave, was Thorfinn feeling up his abdomen in a mad frenzy, his eyes wide and jaw agape in a silent scream.

Until I Do, I Guess I'll Carry On...

The sun rises and the reek of manure still dwells in his nose. Einar was not dreaming of the farm.

But as he followed Thorfinn's demure figure, anxiously keeping up with his chores and strength, he cannot keep his eyes off of him. Of this strange guy and his hushed whispers in the night.

Again, he observed and stayed back this time as the blonde accepted the spit thrown on his face and food. The amount of labor he carries on his broken back with an lost look in his eyes.

So small and dry, brown so hazy and milky, he wonders if he can even see.

Einar stays back and listens as the master and his employers give him more work, more duties, more praises, more insults. He takes it all the same.

Then, at the setting of the sun, the young man still stays back and watches with the rest of the slaves nearby as Thorfinn dropped all he had carried diligently to the master, and sprinted to a small person further away.

His heart beat in his ears, ringing against his skull and Einar found himself surprised as he prayed that Thorfinn would not get in trouble for whatever he was doing there.

Not getting in trouble for the calloused hand that reached out for that person's shoulder, how they yelped out and whipped their head around at the contact with the man.

How they watched as Thorfinn's hopeful face slowly dimmed to shock - then reverted back to his nonchalant ignorance.

What a fool he was. No, it couldn't be. The words he heard, they weren't yours. This little slave, just a terrified child, may have talked like you - walked like you, had a stature like you, looked like you - but in their place, you wouldn't have frozen on the spot. You would have killed him, or he you, when you gazed upon him as you did time and time again.

Without another word, he let his hand fall to his side and dismissed Einar's concerns. The brunette apologized for Thorfinn's stead but the man was already on his way to the barn.

He didn't even know what he was thinking. How his mind could see a silhouette that could resemble you, mistake you, and start running after you. Thorfinn didn't know what he was doing.

The master was already used to his behaviour. Perhaps that's why he wanted to get rid of him while still gaining a bit of gold.

Another night. Another new slave - a young, blonde woman - another curse from Einar about wars and beasts and another nightmare. It's what Thorfinn finally reckoned them as.

Trapped In Every Sacrifice,

Feel Like I'm Gonna Lose My Mind...

The demons that haunt him as he stabs them down for the earth to swallow. Your bloodied body holding a blade. The insults and spits thrown at him, his insides falling down into the sea. Your flailing arms as you cry for his help as the ground splits in two.

In the dead of the night, he checks for his companion, still seeing him to be asleep. Limply, Thorfinn forced himself to sit up.

The stars were as bright as ever. They were when you two were together but in the past year, the nightsky seemed different. Under it, all alone, he mumbled your name under his breath to remember you by.

That's right, he did not even have anything to remember you by, did he? Not a weapon, not a trinket, nothing. All that was left of you were the nightmares haunting his mind.

He hoped it was even less. In this cool, dark night, Thorfinn hoped you were dead. All would be easier for you to bear if just bones remained of you - and it would be easier to bear for him on his heart and mind.

You'd be free.

No Freedom, Without Love...

Scorching was the sun that morning as Ketil appraoched Thorfinn and Einar on his horse once again. Pater accompanied him with another in tow. Shackles of splinted wood around their swollen wrists. Their head hanging low.

"Thorfinn, Einar!" Ketil called out and began his usual prattling. His face bore that same, kind smile even when his words fell on some deaf ears. All Thorfinn could really focus on were lidded eyes slowly moving from the dirtied path up to him. Eyes that were drooped, limp, cold and familiar.

A shaky gasp. Air that got stuck in their lungs. Ketil halted in surprise as they stepped closer in hesitation, their bound hands rising and Pater yelling out about authority and respect of a property to follow.

All Thorfinn could hear were their breathless gasps, the darting eyes, hollow and in tears as their chafed hands gingerly cradled his face - as if unsure if he was really there.

Then, the shock turned into sorrow and anger.

"...You were supposed to be in Iceland..."

Pater yanked them away from him, the familiar warmth gone as they disorientate. Thorfinn could barely breath.

[mr-yuugo]

Sight

[Thorfinn X F!Reader]

Words: 938

Summary: Thorfinn finds out the reader is indeed a girl. While doing so he ends up witnessing a pleasant sight.

You didn't know how and why you ended up this way. Well, you did, though you believed it was Thorfinn's fault as he was the one that started it.

Currently, you were above him, his eyes focused on you. His chest rose and fell quickly, any slight movement of yours made him exhale sharply. His eyes do not dare to look down any further.

The water droplets that fell from your hair landed on him, He didn't mind the action and began to look away as seeing you this way began to be too much for him. Forcefully, you put your hands on his face making him face you.

"Why are you looking away now, Thorfinn? I swear, your eyes were all over me earlier. Is it because I caught you that you are embarrassed? You thought I would let it slide huh?"

He didn't say anything to your comment. Oh, how he wanted to push you away, but he simply couldn't, not that he really wanted to anyways.

He remembered how you had walked away earlier to who knows where. He had become bored as he was guarding the ships alone as the others left for a village nearby. He had made a split decision to go look for you, getting up from his seat he began to look for you.

He remembered how you wanted to go have a bath when you could, earlier when scouting the area, you two had found a stream. Going over to where the stream was, he assumed you would be there. As he got closer, he began to hesitate, he had his theories.

In all honesty, you looked like a girl. What if his thoughts were correct and you were? He told himself he wouldn't care; he didn't feel any attraction towards you. Well, that's what he would like to tell himself.

You were....different? There were certain times when he believed you were a girl. At times you acted like one, not to forget that one time you screamed at some random bug. Pushing those thoughts aside he made it, the only thing covering his vision were a few trees and bushes.

Peaking his head through a bush his eyes wandered throughout the area as his eyes finally landed on you. His eyes widened; his palms sweaty as his thoughts had become reality.

There you were your body wet from the water as you slicked your hair back away from your face. Thorfinn thought his eyes would have popped out of his sockets if he hadn't looked away. His face flushed as he looked away. Slowly his eyes trailed back to your body, he saw every curve and scar that littered your body.

His breathing became irregular as his mind wandered. He thought of how soft you would be, would you be mad if you found him staring?

He saw how any slight movement made your breasts move. He looked away, only to look at you again. He just couldn't tear his eyes off of you, he knew you were beautiful even before now. His newfound discovery only encouraged his heart to fall for you.

His mind was so far gone; he hadn't realized you had finished your bath. You began to dry yourself, looking up you realized someone was staring at you.

Thorfinn snapping out of it quickly ducked out of your vision lane. Cursing at himself for being such an idiot. He wondered if you had seen him.

"Who is there? I'll beat the shit out of you if you don't show yourself." You threatened

Covering yourself with the thin towel, you prepared yourself for any upcoming attack. Noticing slight movement from the bush in front of you. You quietly made your way towards it.

Thorfinn on the other hand began to choke on his spit as he began to sweat in nervousness. "Shit," He thought

Quickly he began to crawl away, making a note to not make too much noise. Unfortunately, he hadn't gotten far when he felt a foot press down on his back.

"Ha! Didn't expect to find you, Thorfinn."

You had managed to turn him on his back, straddling him so he wouldn't move. He tried to push you off, but you grabbed his hands and put them above him. Your still-wet hair dripped water onto him.

You noticed how he began to look away, making him face you, you spoke.

"Why are you looking away now, Thorfinn? I swear, your eyes were all over me earlier. Is it because I caught you that you are embarrassed? You thought I would let it slide huh?"

"....."

"Fine don't speak." Moving into a slightly more comfortable position, you noticed how his blush spread. "Hm? Does the sick pervert like this?" Moving again he groaned

"Get off me you bitch." He growled

"Really? You aren't even making an effort to move me off of you anymore. Admit it, you're enjoying this."

"Tsk, I told you to get off of me." Using his strength, he pushed you onto your back. As a result, he was now on top.

Realizing your current position, he closed his eyes as he let the moment sink in. His face showed how flustered he was. His body had moved on its own, grabbing your chin roughly he had smashed your lips with his.

His heart sped up as he felt you kiss him back, groaning into your mouth he began to whine as he couldn't get enough of you. As you opened your mouth, he pushed his tongue in. Savoring every inch of you he soon pulled away as he ran out of breath.

[yandereunsolved]

☾ Yandere Thorfinn ☾

"Hmm. There is nowhere you can hide among all of these lands where I won't find you. For even the gods would fear my wrath if they took you from my arms."

[4seasonsofart]

A reader insert who is the Prince(ss) of England and ends up a war prisoner during the war arc with Thorfinn and Canute at your side. The entire band is just awestruck at the fact that they managed to capture an English royal, and many boast about it. You know the lewd things they say about you; they are nothing but savages who happen to align with the enemy of your own country.

Ragnar is treating you with respect, as even as a political prisoner, he believes you have some rights. Canute is hiding behind Ragnar and anxiously—just barely—looking at you at the beginning of your trip together. Thorfinn just rolls his eyes and complains about having to look after another spoiled brat.

"Do you even speak any Norse?" Thorfinn inquires in a haughty tone as he rolls his hazel irises and lists profanities under his wretched breath.

He was slightly surprised to learn that you do indeed speak some Norse. He doesn't show it, as he just waves you off and smirks at the fact that this stuck-up royal could speak some Norse. He constantly says things in Norse that you don't understand, and he'll speak quickly on purpose just to make it hard for you to interpret his words. He gets irritated when you start speaking in English, as he doesn't understand what you are saying. You rarely speak, but when you speak in English, you do it to Askeladd. He hates that with a burning passion. What are you two even talking about? Him???

As the trip progresses and Canute becomes bolder and wiser, he begins trying to subtly manipulate you. If you are more fem-aligned, then he tries to get you to fall in love with him, and if you are more masc-aligned, then he tries to make you his ally. He tries to be subtle about flirting, although it comes off as more of an awkward teenage interaction.

"I know we are born enemies, made lovers."

Askeladd is trying not to laugh as he already had to deal with trying to teach Thorfinn to flirt. If you know... you know...

Thorfinn just grumbles and reluctantly learns to enjoy more of your presence.

You are worried about your fate as a political prisoner and are therefore very closed off. Which makes it hard for Canute to connect with you and try to manipulate you into betraying your own country and joining him. Of course, Askeladd helps the young prince in this endeavor, as he has become his new retainer at this point.

So as the trip progresses, Thorfinn protects you, and Canute tries to manipulate you. Your fate and what will happen when you meet the Danish king are still unknown.

[almost-blondee]

Shit Disturber

Thorfinn x Reader

Reader is Askeladds daughter

Fluff, mentions of the deed, SFW

word count: 1.2k

i might turn this into multiple little stories because i like the idea. Just like different scenarios regarding Thorfinn, Reader, and Askeladd.

If there is grammar mistakes or spelling errors please ignore them, i tried my best to find them all, thank you!

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Being on so many treacherous journeys just comes with the lifestyle. Having to go on endless marches day in and day out like it’s another walk in the park. Travelling with Askeladd and his group wasn’t exactly the ideal situation but you didn’t really have a choice. Being Askeladds only daughter, he was generally very protective of you and didn’t feel safe leaving you with your mother. You were a product of a one nightstand. Askeladd finding out he had a daughter was an odd thing for him, Although never pursuing a further relationship with your mother, he felt inclined to take up his fathering duty’s and keep you safe. Usually when your father would leave for a trip, you would stay with your mom, in Wales. Unfortunately, in your later teenage years your mother had gotten caught up with dangerous people and creating a not so safe environment for you. When Askeladd heard about this he wasn’t pleased, so he took it upon himself to bring you with him and teach you how to defend yourself. He thought you were old enough to be with him on his travels. What he didn’t expect though, was for you to catch feelings for the only other teenager in his crew. Thorfinn. You not having known what your Dad has done to the poor kid, couldn’t help but develop feelings for the boy. You guys didn’t talk much, if you did it was a quick couple words. Thorfinn doesn’t talk much in the first place so it is hard to engage in a conversation with him. However, you will talk to him any chance you get. He’s injured, perfect you can tend to his wounds. He’s leaving to eat by himself, you make sure he has enough food and water. Since Thorfinn is usually straight faced at all times, you can never tell if he appreciates the gestures or not. He never tells you to stop or tells you off, so you just assume he doesn’t mind.

Thorfinn definitely doesn’t mind the gestures, if anything he enjoys them but is to proud to say anything. Having known you’re Askeladds daughter, at first he was incredibly upset with your existence. But it was not long before he came to the realization that you had nothing to do with what your father had done to him. He still doesn’t recognize his feelings for you, but he knows he feels something and Askeladd was not having it.

He couldn’t believe that his only daughter had fallen for that scoundrel. He admits Thorfinn had been very useful to him and he’s somewhat thankful, but no way in hell he’s going to let him get with his precious daughter. Askeladd did everything in his power to keep you guys separated, but you were too stubborn, always clinging to Thorfinns side. As much as he could see Thorfinn pretending to dislike it, Askeladd knew he was secretly enjoying it

In one particular incident, you had gone to visit Thorfinn while he was eating alone when you guys had stopped in a little village. You had been sat beside him talking his ear off, not that he said anything back. It was getting later than you could realize and you ended up falling asleep on his shoulder. At first he was taken aback, his immediate reaction being to push you off of him. But when he looked a your, oh so beautiful face he couldn’t bring him self to disrupt your peace. As Thorfinn was admiring your face looking at every wrinkle and stray hair that had fallen in front of your face. Askeladd rounded the corner catching the boy tucking your hair behind your ear and caressing it further. Askeladd was enraged that he had the guts to preform such an intimate act on you.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Askeladd spat at Thorfinn in a harsh tone. Thorfinn jumped at the stern voice, he had thought no one would find them out here. The one time he was bold enough to admire you he had been caught, and by the worst person, your dad.

“uhh…. i was just… relaxing?” That was the only thing Thorfinn could muster up. “Relaxing.” Askeladd said in a flat tone. “Relaxing my ass, you were trying to cop a feel.” Thorfinn immediately denied any intention of touching you in any other way, than how he just had. It went silent. Thorfinn had begun glaring at Askeladd for ruining the moment, and Askeladd glaring back at him for touching his daughter. “Take your hands off of her” Askeladd finally spoke up. Thorfinn was confused for a second, his hands weren’t on you anymore. Then he realized that his arm had absentmindedly wrapped its self around you to support your body. Thorfinn rolled his eyes and sighed “No, it’ll wake her, you wouldn’t want to wake your precious daughter would you, old man?” Thorfinn said, his voice dripping in sarcasm.

“oh you little brat!” Askeladd replied, now angrier than before. “i don’t care if it wakes her, get away from her or i’ll rip your arm off”

“jeez okay old man. Don’t get your panties in a twist.” Thorfinn slowly shook you trying to wake you in the most gentle way possible just to make Askeladd more mad. “Hey, (y/n). Wake up, i’ll bring you to a proper bed” He whispered, but made sure it was loud enough for your dad to hear. Askeladd just rolled his eyes trying not to rip Thorfinns head off.

“huh, oh…Thorfinn.” was the first thing you said when you woke up. You looked so pleased to be woken up by him, it made Askeladd sick. “sorry i must have fallen asleep” you apologized. “don’t worry about it, just go find a bed to sleep in.” Thorfinn replied. As you stretched you pushed your head further into Thorfinns neck, keeping it there. Thorfinn could feel your hot breath on his neck, it made his hair stand up. Now this was extra awkward. Thorfinn realized that you hadn’t noticed your dad standing about 2 metres away from you guys.

“ahem…..” Askeladd cleared his throat to make him self noticeable to you. As soon as you heard him you jumped up, looked at your dad and got up from beside Thorfinn. “ohhh, Haha… Dad i didn’t know you were there….” you said in an embarrassed tone. Askeladd hated how you were so smitten with the boy sitting on the ground. Enough to cuddle up to him unprovoked. “we are leaving, you can sleep in my room tonight. If i hear you get up you’re dead.” your dad said in a harsh tone. Meanwhile, Thorfinn was enjoying how angry Askeladd was getting over something so trivial, it’s not like he caught you guys doing the deed. Although that probably would have been funnier, Thorfinn thought. The boy sat on the ground with a smirk waiting for Askeladds next move. Askeladd began to walk away with you tailing, when Thorfinn spoke up and said

“(y/n), you should come sleep with me more often.” purposefully making it sound more lewd then it actually was, in order to make Askeladd more mad. You turned red with embarrassment and looked at your dad, who was fuming. You then looked at Thorfinn and whispered an “okay”.

“ YOU’RE GETTING IT NOW BOY!” Askeladd had snapped, shouting at the boy for who knows how long as Thorfinn sat there trying not to laugh. Once Askeladd was done, he pulled you to his room. You gave Thorfinn a quick wave, and he just nodded. As you retreated you were wondering what you had gotten yourself into…

[linkemon]

Glass Houses (Thorfinn x Reader)

Friendly reminder that English is not my first language. You can check my Masterlists both in English and Polish here. Consider supporting me on Ko-fi. You can also check out my commissions if you’re interested.

Other oneshots can be found here.

ᴛʜᴏʀꜰɪɴɴ ᴅɪꜱᴄᴏᴠᴇʀꜱ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴠɪɴʟᴀɴᴅ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴀᴄᴛᴜᴀʟʟʏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜɪᴍ ᴀʟʟ ᴀʟᴏɴɢ…

— Shit — [Reader] hissed through clenched teeth.

She gingerly touched her right thigh. Blood ran down her fingers and dripped onto the fresh snow, staining it bright red. Her leg throbbed with a dull pain. She gripped her knife tighter, never taking her eyes off her opponent. [Reader] knew that the prolonged ranged combat was working against her. The loss of blood was making itself felt, making her dizzy and her strength was fading.

The scout wasted no time. He lunged again with his blade raised, looking for weak points. He feigned a blow to the exposed left side, then struck the right. The girl didn't have time to jump away. The sword left a bloody wound on her forearm. The man, carried by his momentum, kicked her straight in the stomach. The force of the impact knocked the air out of her lungs. She raised her head, panting heavily. Just in time, she noticed a shadow looming behind the figure of her pursuer. She ducked. The scout froze with a look of shock on his face. He grabbed his chest, where the knife was stuck. He fell to his knees. He died quickly.

From behind the motionless body emerged the saviour — Thorfinn.

— You're an idiot — he said.

— I had to check on things. — She tore off a piece of her shirt, tying it below her thigh, then tried to stand up on her own.

— Ear said he'd check the situation. Don't push yourself where you're not needed. — He pulled the girl up with such force that she staggered.

The boy had a great urge to tell her again that she was stupid but he held back.

— Can you go?

He received a negative shake of his head.

— By Thor…— he sighed.

He crouched down, allowing her to climb onto his back. [Reader] bit her cracked lips, trying to block out the pain. Eventually, she grabbed him by the neck, allowing herself to be carried toward the campsite.

The boy's body pleasantly warmed her chilled body. She tried with all her might not to chatter her teeth. The forest was very cold. In addition, snowflakes began to fall from the cloudy sky.

— God bless you — she mumbled out of habit.

— I don't believe in your God.

— I don't see a problem.

He did not comment on it.

She didn't stay silent for very long.

— Thorfinn?

Again he did not answer.

She shook his arm with her left, less tired hand.

— Can we talk about what happened? — she asked quietly.

Her thoughts were in disarray. If it weren't for the physical exhaustion, she probably wouldn't have returned to the subject. But now felt like as good time as any.

— Just don’t go scouting by yourself anymore — the boy replied gruffly.

— That's not what I'm talking about.

She felt that the other person knew exactly what she meant but deftly avoided the topic.

Her mind wandered to the previous evening. She could still feel the boy's lips on hers. A hand, much larger and rougher, stroked her cheek. The kiss was timid. It was surprisingly different from the young warrior's personality. Concern danced in his eyes. She felt as if everything had ended only a moment ago.

— I meant...— She trailed off, feeling a slight warmth rise to her cheeks. — About yesterday — she finished more quietly.

In her mind it seemed easy. Saying it out loud was much harder.

Thorfinn remained silent as he trudged steadily through the snow with her on his back.

— Let’s just not go back to this. — His voice was cold.

The girl couldn't notice her trembling lower lip.

— Why?

— Because I have nothing to tell you.

This was where the other side of the boy came out. The inseparable parts of his character that he showed to everyone on Askeladd's team.

[Reader] was feeling weak and it was becoming easier for her to say things out loud that she normally wouldn't.

— It's simple. Yes or no — she stated defiantly.

— Then no — he replied, feeling the great, bitter weight of the words he was saying.

— Put me down.

— NO.

— Let me get down.

Thorfinn didn't comply, so the girl loosened her grip around his neck. She fell straight into a small snowdrift, letting out a groan of pain.

The boy deep down shuddered at the sound.

— Tell me that straight to my face.

He didn't do that. He headed towards the camp visible from behind the snowy hill.

This was too much for her. The ignorance hurt.

— Do you care? You weren't like this yesterday! You're a coward, Thorfinn, son of Thors! — she cried hoarsely. — You're afraid of love!

His father's name hit the Viking like a bucket of icy water.

— I'm not scared, damn it! — He turned around, furious. — I just can't give it to you! Do you know how my family must feel after Askeladd killed dad? You don't want to go through that — he finished, his tone so pained that [Reader] felt like she was seeing him for the first time in her life.

— Why do you decide for me? How do you know how much I can endure?

She could barely hold back the tears welling up in her eyes. She felt as if something was slipping away from her forever.

— Because you’re too weak — he muttered.

The boy saw [Reader] trying to speak up for the villagers. She begged Askeladd not to murder the people but he did what he wanted anyway. What's more, he helped him do it. He didn't care much about the slaughter. It was just another task standing in the way of revenge.

From then on, the girl prayed even more often. Every day, she knelt with Canute and Ragnar. She clasped her hands, tilted her head upward and mumbled something about forgiveness and sins.

She might have been a fighter but she had too much mercy. Her soul was too gentle. Thorfinn found that the only real weakness she had was her Christian faith.

Somewhere deep inside him a sadistic urge rose to tell her more about his thoughts. About how stupid it seemed that she cared about the prince, the advisor, the villagers, the band of Vikings, and most of all him.

But then he saw a memory from the hunt. She had invited herself along. Despite that, the unexpected company didn’t bother him. He looked at the focused face and wondered why she reminded him of Thors. Neither her features, nor her posture, nor her words were like those of the great warrior. But as he sat with her at the table, staring into the bowl of soup they had cooked together, he felt strangely familiar. He laughed at her poor archery skills, trying to chase away the returning childhood.

Maybe that was why he kept the bile from rising in his throat and "go away" was the only words that left his lips.

— Thorfinn…— She grabbed his hand but he jumped back as if burned.

— I can’t. — He turned toward the campsite.

— I don't agree to this, do you understand?

She ran over, ignoring her bleeding thigh.

The boy struggled, trying to free himself from his grip. [Reader] however, held him tightly around the waist, not willing to let go. She didn't stop even when he kicked her injured leg.

— I know I might be left alone and I know that such a loss will hurt.

The Viking didn't have the strength to push her away. He felt too weak.

— Why — he heard his pained voice say — why do you want to be with me?

— Because love is worth the risk. — She snuggled closer.

— How do you know that? — He sighed, hugging her awkwardly.

— God told me. — She raised her eyes upward.

Thorfinn followed her gaze and it seemed to him that a ray of sunlight flashed from behind the snow clouds. But that didn't matter now. He no longer had to seek the warm light and the wide green meadows. In that moment he was closer to Vinland than he had been in his entire life.

[nxuriah]

So I started Vinland Saga and of course, I'm crushing on Askeladd.. he's so fucking attractive oh my god..I can't explain it. I needddd smut fics of him but there's barely any on here 😭 so can people please tag me in vinland saga smut fics or recommend some?

[greenofhue]

Fond

another short thorfinn fic!! This takes place in the Baltic Sea Arc, the night after the jomsvikings fight/after they were disbanded, I didn't edit it much so beware of any typos!

Thorfinn lies asleep on the bed. Back facing me; his blonde hair merging with the furs, the cushions filled with golden straw. Firey shadows dancing across him; warm and focused. I can't help but be reminded of the dream I keep having. The wood crackles, tumbling over as it cools. He stirrs. Suddenly I am frozen in place. Yet, his movement is slow and sluggish. Slight relief fills me, as he sleeps- chest rising and falling- I think of his ribs. I think of the bruises.

I promised myself not to dwell. But perhaps it was the combination of fatigue and sight of him that caused my mind to fall back to the thought. The dream. We were both running through some field. I could never remember where, but I knew he was taking me somewhere. I keep running after him. Reaching, but he was so fast, and all I could see was the back of his head slipping away into the field. I could still feel that feeling after I woke; that he was going somewhere that doesn't need me. I couldn't help but feel it now even as he slept. It pulses in my heart, this terrible feeling.

I see that glimmer in his eyes all the time. The ocean, the woodlands; distant, eager atonement. His words are simpler, heavier, engraved with more than he lets on.

It constantly made my head spin; emotions I hadn't even registered that I had about him. Fear, frustration. I worry too much and I say too little. I wonder if it is because I fear it won't matter. The sight of him, full of arrows on his knees. He is chasing after something, something that isn't meant to be. Eventually it will fall through; this belief. I can't help but hope that I'm wrong.

"It's stupid." The words are airy, and yet ripped out of me. Full with the weight of something as they leave mouth. "I keep seeing it- this day. That we all loose you."

Impulsively, regretfully I draw my hand out from the warmth of my own furs. Resting it along his spine. Warm; enveloped. And I am following, counting his steady breaths as if he were something that could vanish at any moment. As if these breaths are numbered.

My words continue, being pulled; drawn out of my chest, "You're becoming careless. Wreckless with your life." I pause brows knit together, mulling over my thoughts before I speak. "I can't loose y-"

The furs shift with a weight pushed into my hand as he leans into my touch. Panicked, I remove myself. Falling deeper into my chair.

I felt a slight sense of loss when my hand left his back. I knew that my touch was just purely out of care, but I couldn't help but want more. As my hand left his skin, I felt a little colder. I watch as he stirrs, drifting; leaning into my dissipating warmth, into my now foregone embrace. Yet for that moment, the sudden fear, and frustration felt so small. The feeling of that was a bit intimidating, but familiar all at once.

I low rumble filled the room as he spoke. His voice was soft, filled with conviction. And I was startled by how much truth was hidden behind his words as he spoke.

"I would never leave you guys."

Dread shoots up my spine. Had he heard everything? No. He would've said something else. The realization sets in. 'you guys' - Not 'you.' I mentally punch myself for being so stupid. So vulnerable. Silence englulfs the room in a thick haze. I'm not sure how to respond. Am I over thinking it? Why would I?

Before I can even spit something out, Thorfinn turns to face me. A pained look on his face as he holds his side where the stitches were.

We are close. Close enough that I could make out his features in the dim lighting. His short unruly hair. Scar carved into the surface of his flushed cold cheeks. A face forged by the sea, hardened by years of war; still as soft as ever as he watches me. Eyes tracing the sight of me, and I'm drifting. Loosing any words that I might've had before. If there was ever a time to say my convictions, then it was right now.

For the first time in years, I can't hold his gaze. And for the first in time in years, my heart is pounding out of my chest. The feeling is familiar. Panicked, and the strong urge to run away; Embarrassment?

"Pfah," I choke back compelling laughter.

"What is it?" He squints, I can feel his stare; worn and heavy. Still, all the more focused as he watches me. My head is pounding now with too many things at once.

"I'm, sorry."

"Sorry?" He echos.

"I didn't realize you were awake." My gaze stays locked to the floor boards. There are twice as many cracks in the wood than usual.

"I'm the one who should be sorry."

Almost impulsively, my gaze finds his again. He stares at me, then at the bed, bashful; perhaps even as embarrassed as I am. Hands loosely clasped on his lap.

"I didn't mean to scare you. Or the others."

I turn my gaze to my hands, picking at the skin. I exhale deeply, consciously realizing how quiet it is that I'm not saying anything. And that I probably should say something. My body sinks deeper into the chair.

"I had a plan, I didn't go in there blind." Thorfinn continues, exhaustion evident as his shoulders fall, rousing from the warmth of the bed.

"Yeah, a bad one that almost cost you your life." I bite back a scoff, watching him rise. The skin on my hand turning red from my little habit.

"I know." he whispers. Leveled with me now as he sits on the edge of the bed, facing the chair I'm seated in. I notice how close our knees are.

He watches the cooling embers through his lashes. "I'm sorry."

"You know how it is. Out here." I sniff, nose runny from the seeping cold. "Those people need you." I purposefully leave out myself. Feeling his gaze on me as a result. I ignore it, wiping the hair from my eyes.

Words drift as the silence stretches out. Almost tangible. Obviously waiting for the things left unsaid; the doors left open. Thorfinn, deep in thought- rarely is he ever not in thought- opens his mouth to say something.

But I'm already standing. Air escaping my lungs. Wood creaking beneath my feet as I'm shifting from one foot to the other. Sheepish in all my ways. Ready to leave. Ready to forget this night, to forget what I feel- what I can't seem to face.

"But do you, need me?" Thorfinn breathes. Quick at the sight of me leaving. His words impulsive, yet so carefully chosen. The crack in his voice betraying him.

The question didn't startle me as I thought it would. I know him. I knew it was coming. He's always been blunt like this. Whether that was a good or bad thing.

Yet, it sets me off. "It's not fair." I turn to him, "What would've happened if you had died?" Despite the fear in my voice, the words are harsher than I intend, they ring in my ears.

"I had no intention of dying back there." He stands in defense. Though part of me doesn't even believe him.

"But you almost did!"

And suddenly it feels like we've already had this argument before. I'm fond of the burden he carries, I wish things were different, but they aren't. And just as soon as the argument starts, it ends.

"I know- I know." His words are heavy. Laced with something distant, something far off as they leave his mouth. And I can recognize it just as well as he can. Guilt.

"That doesn't make it anymore right." I barely whisper, sitting back down. Tension and exhaustion strung in all the way to my bones. The ache in my limbs grow, there's never enough time to rest.

"Then I'll make it right." His gaze turns back to his hands. Drifting over the scars there. I find myself watching too. "I promise."

The words ring, he's going somewhere that doesn't need me. I sigh, worn out. Reasoning with him is like trying to tell a goat to fly. "Then start with trying not to get yourself killed all the time." Hiding the desperation in my voice before I speak again, "Please?"

"I promise." He echos. But I know that words don't mean anything. Not here, not with this.

Yet I still cringe as the words leave my own mouth, trying not to believe them. Not to believe that it would make him stay. It's better not to dwell. It's better not to dwell. It's better not to- "I don't, not, need you."

Regretfully, I look up to meet his face. managing to catch the subtle twitch in the corner of his lips. Fleeting, there for just a moment. "Never thought I'd actually hear you say something like that." He pauses, impishly. "To my face at least."

Oh- he did hear me. And when his gaze meets mine, I am painfully reminded of how the warmth from his back felt, seeping into my hand. I avert my gaze to the side.

"I meant what I said." I speak into the cold.

"As did I."

"Yeah, about what? Promises you can't keep?" A dismissive scoff escapes my mouth, digging into the wound a bit more for good measure. Part of me doesn't even realize how well I mask these feelings into defensiveness.

"To you and everyone else." He chuckles, trying to make light of the situation. Which turns into a small fit of coughs as he holds his injured chest.

I take the chance to jab at his side, causing him to bat my hand away in pain. Still coughing and laughing. "Yeah, you deserve that." I grin, a breathy chuckle growing in the air.

"Shu-" More coughs, "Shut up." He manages to wheeze out, still fighting away my hand.

Part of me knows this; familiarity. It's so easy to have my guard down around him. To laugh at each other like children. Yet these flaring feelings surprise me again when he catches my wrist. And perhaps it was even just a flicker of his past self. That old cocky arrogance when his lips upturned into a grin. "What? Not funny?"

"No." I frown, distracted. "I completely love seeing you in pain." I put on a devilish grin. Making an effort to pry my wrist out of his hand. "Forgive me?"

"Always." He exhales from his nose, rolling his eyes. Acting annoyed, but clearly not fooling anyone. He enjoys this too. The familiarity.

Yet I couldn't help but notice the way his thumb naturally traced along my wrist, tracing the curve of my skin in a way that was endearing and almost tender. Holding onto me a little longer than he actually should. He hesitates before dropping my wrist. Eyebrows furrowed and turning his gaze away as if forgetting something important. And once again these feelings resurface a tenfold.

Silence falls upon us again, taking over the room. He watches irresolute; brown eyes heavy against the faltering cracklings of flame. It felt as if we were both still processing everything, and he could tell that I wasn't sure what to say as well. It left me uncertain of what was going on between the two of us. We had both uttered some sort of truth for one another. But It's easier to pretend. It's safer this way. It always has been.

"I'm sorry." I breathe. Finding myself saying that a lot recently.

"For what?"

"About what I said before."

"That doesn't matter." He shrugs.

"Why?"

"Because it's the truth, is it not?"

I watch his hands, how his thumb mindlessly traces the curve of his knuckles. I notice how he does that when he's thinking, trying to frame out his words.

"Do you.." He spaces out the words with hesitance, "Feel some way about me?" He finally whispers. And I notice how his breath is shaky; uneven.

The the same feeling from before returns. Increased heart rate, panicked, the strong urge to run. Yet I don't feel like running this time. Reminding myself to breathe. Instead I feel the urge to turn and face him and-

"Yes. I've grown, fond of you." I don't turn my head. Instead I watch the shadows dancing across my lap. Fond, that word sticks in my mouth like a taste you can't get out.

"Fond." Thorfinn breathes out as if he was anticipating something more. But I know him too well to know that something as simple as that is enough for him. And my mind focuses on the whisper of that one word. Repeating over and over. Fond...Fond...Fond...

"Are you surprised?" I whisper. Trying to swallow down this feeling that I did something wrong. That I shouldn't have said anything at all.

"No." He averts his gaze.

"Why?" I can't stop myself from inquiring more, I should stop.

"Because.." he trails off, "I have many reasons." He replies, voice a soft hush as if thinking about something that was pushed far away and buried. Feelings resurfacing.

I'll end this here. Snapping my thoughts together, I stand from my chair. "I should let you rest." I try not to look at him, it's better not to dwell. "The others want to be out of here by daylight. Who knows what Thorkell might ask of you in the morning."

I'm so stupid, so incredibly stupid. I should have never said that. Never said anything at all. And suddenly all these feelings are rising like ocean tides, I feel it in my throat.

His fingers close around my wrist in a swift motion, the suddenness of it catching me off guard. At first, all I registered was the warmth of his touch against my skin. Hands, scarred and callused. A constant reminder of my doubt. Of my fear.

"Why do you avoid me?" His voice, barely above a whisper, breaking through the silence like wind through a wind chime. "You always go run off... You never say what you really mean.."

I'm not brave enough to meet his gaze, yet I picture it. Eyes like deep caverns of brown, like the woodlands; so familiar over the years, etched into the fabric of my every memory.

"You don't want to know how I feel? You'd rather run?" I can feel the way he's searching all the angles of my face.

"It doesn't matter what you feel, or what I feel." Do not dwell.

"I'm not stupid." He whispers. "Why did you say it?" His words convict me. "All this time, why now?"

"I barely even said anything!" My voice is high in my ears, as if I were about to start laughing at the stupidity of the situation.

"But you did." Thorfinns voice is firm, laced with so much belief, so much certainty.

"I don't-" I shake my head, I can't think straight. "You're always like this. Saying things and doing things. Stop confusing me." My voice is strained, tired. "It's not easy."

"It's never been easy!" His voice is soft and desperate for me to just listen.

"And it never will be easy. Not now. Especially not with this." I reason, "There's always going to be something." I trail off, guiltily. The burden hangs heavy. Survival, fear, regret. "We aren't like everyone else, you and I aren't made for this," I shake my head. "All I know is now, and surviving now. There's no time for anything else."

"I know that- You don't think I know that? These things, everything that we've done it's.." He trails off. It bothers him, it always has.

"It's what made us the same." He finally breathes, trying to find his words. "All these years-" I feel his hand reach to cup my neck, thumb along my cheek, his voice faltering with the words,

"I've known you- I know you." His is touch so gentle it's almost ghostly. I don't think we've ever been so close before.

Everything moves so fast that I remain rooted in the stillness of the moment. Slowly faltering, loosing the urge to retreat as he draws nearer. His forehead meets mine, a gentle collision.

"Please- stay." Closer, closer. I can feel the warmth of his breath seeping through all my layers of cloth and furs. Closer, and I can feel his heart racing just as much as mine. Closer still, until there is nothing left.

I could feel the warmth of his skin, the slight tremble of his touch as he hesitates for a fraction of a moment. It was fleeting, almost instinctive as his lips brush against mine. A soft pressing; hardly a kiss. Each movement deliberate yet tentative. His breath, warm and steady, mingling with mine. The warmth from his lips linger long after. As if it etching itself into my skin, and I feel lost when we part; breaths mixing with the dark aroma of burning logs, I look at him. Hand still cupping my face, his hair tickling my forehead. He smells like the woods before rain.

Eyes the color of bison hide, watching. Darting from my lips back to me. Flustered as ever, never would I have expected such a bold act from him. Dusty red tints his face, rushing to the tip of his ears.

And he whispers to me, "I've, grown fond of you as well."

[agappa]

General relationships : Thorfinnxfem!reader

• well if we’re talking about him when he was a teenager it’s gonna be very rough ahah

• Like the only thing he’s thinking about for years is revenge so love is a feeling he’s really not accustomed to.

• He doesn’t acknowledge those romantic feelings. So when he started to feel differently about you compared to others he really didn’t know how to manage those feelings for you.

• So at first, he’s going to be mean to you because you have no right to make his heart beat so fast when you're around !

• Then with a lot of time, he’s going to soften up a little bit (nothing crazy he’s just going to stop screaming at you).

• And then out of nowhere, he is going to surprise himself with the thought of wanting you close to him, not wanting you to go to the battlefield, wanting nobody to hurt you or else they're going to hear about him.

• But honestly, I don't think he’s capable of being in a relationship with you at this time of his life, same when he’s a slave because he needs to work on himself first to accept you in his life.

• But if we're talking about him after those two states… Damn that man gonna treats you so right.

• He has so much love and kindness to give.

• At first, he has trouble receiving physical affection but after he gets used to it he becomes feral about it (but only in private).

• He loves talking all night with you about your projects, stories, and fears.

• Talking about fear this guy has a lot of trauma so you have to soothe all those nasty thoughts.

• But because of his past and current state, he knows how to take care of you when something troubles you.

• Like he got a lot of nightmares, at first he really didn’t want to annoy you with that, so he tried to not make it obvious and go sleep in another room. But once you reassure him and make it clear that you want to be by his side when he’s at his lowest, it's like he falls for you all over again and finally lets you smooth him to sleep (honestly I think I'm going to make a fic about this plot hehe).

• He’s the best listener and makes you feel heard.

• Especially about all your « girls » thing (menstruation, mood swings…) because he never really lived with women so he knows practically nothing about it ! But he’s very curious and eager to learn (like in the manga he thought that women could produce milk at any time, even without being pregnant…).

• So after you teach him about your periods he's gonna be very careful with you, he makes you an adapted diet when you got them and tracks your cycles to be sure everything is all right.

• So honestly he cherishes you like the most precious gem in this world, he already lost too much in his life he couldn’t stand to lose someone so important as you :,)

-> come check my other work <3

[gardenofnoah]

when they come for you in the night

i love my sweet traumatized man :( cw: nightmares, thorfinn lashes out in fear/self defense, choking (this is not smut). wc: 1.1k

it’s been a while since he’s had these nightmares, but the scream that tears through his throat is so familiar that it feels like it’s haunted you all your life.

you shoot upright when it starts, frozen for an agonizing few seconds—unable to do anything but watch the man you love suffer. Thorfinn flails, a mess of limbs and hair, and it’s enough to shake you from your stupor when a scarred hand fists into the material of your tunic.

you bring your hand down to cover his instinctually, and all at once you are reminded of the dangers of waking a warrior from a nightmare.

in the amount of time it takes you to blink, you are slammed against the bed—your beloved’s face twisted into a feral snarl above you, his forearm pressed hard against your windpipe. you don’t struggle—you know better than to think you’d have a chance of getting out of his hold, even with his past as a warrior so far behind him. the moment stretches as the silence between you does, and you watch him come back to himself, and to you, as your vision begins to fade at your peripherals.

there’s an emotion that flashes over his face—something like recognition that bleeds into sheer horror, and then his weight leaves you entirely. you suck down a breath, trying to get the way you gasp and sputter under control so you don’t startle him.

you realize the harsh panting you hear does not come from you. you turn your head—letting out a clipped exhale at the immediate soreness—to find him pressed up against the wall, curled into himself and staring at you with the eyes of a terrified six year old.

you reach for him, slowly—arm moving across the bed until it’s fully extended, palm facing the ceiling and fingertips just shy of where he cowers. a white flag in the dark. a wolf with its throat bared.

“Thorfinn,” you whisper hoarsely, “my love.”

his eyes get wider still, and you give him a soft smile as they well up with tears.

you push yourself off the bed slowly, propped up on the opposite arm while you reach for him. “it’s okay,” you coax him, like you’re luring a frightened animal from its hiding place, “come here, Thorfinn.”

the tears crest and fall down his cheeks as he shakes his head once, and then again, pressing himself further into the wall like he’s hoping it’ll give under his weight. you know that it is not you that he fears, so you don’t rush toward him. you stay planted where you are, hand still outstretched to him. asking the hands that he loathes to reach for you.

“i’m sorry for scaring you, my love,” you tell him, eyes not leaving his. “i should not have woken you.”

his face crumbles at that, and he’s shaking his head furiously, like if he does it hard enough, he’ll dislodge the sentiment from his ears. like he can’t bear to hear you apologize for his sake.

“thorfinn,” you murmur, palm turning to meet the mattress in front of him, smoothing over the sheets. “will you come back to me?”

you see it in his face when your words register—it twists into something pained as he lurches toward you. he curls around the arm you’ve extended to him, careful not to get too close to you as he presses his clammy forehead to the back of your hand.

“m’sorry,” he chokes out, holding your arm to him with both hands, curled over top of it like it’s the thing that can grant him forgiveness, “sorry, sorry, m’sorry—“

you push yourself to a full sitting position with your opposite hand so you can reach for him. turning your body to face him, your fingers card through the hair on the back of his head. he whimpers at your touch, trembles under your hand, but you don’t falter. you wonder who he is right now—if he stands in his family home, warm and fed and knowing nothing of what’s to come, or over the bodies of those he’d been forced to cut down. fearful all the same.

“you didn’t mean to, did you?” you ask softly, already knowing the answer.

his head shoots up then, watery eyes snapping to yours.

“no—no—“

“right,” you whisper, brushing stray hairs from his face. “you didn’t mean to, Thorfinn.”

its quiet between you, save for the shuddered breathing of the man before you and the faint morning calls of the roosters out back. you wonder if they ever dream, and if they too have nightmares. if their hens worry for them.

you run your fingers through his hair, fingers pressing lightly into his scalp. you ease up a bit when you feel the ridges of scar tissue, unwilling to be anything but gentle to the skin that's worked so hard to keep him whole.

he makes his way into your lap—slowly and quietly, like he still needs protect himself from something. you don't call attention to the way his head rests cautiously on top of your thighs, as if he’s waiting for you to sense his vulnerability and strike—you just keep brushing his hair from his face, and you are patient.

it would seem strange to some to see the son of the Troll of Jom curled up and whimpering in the lap of his lover, but it makes perfect sense to you. he’s seldom known a gentle touch, and after the horrific decade he spent as a warrior, you think you’d have fared far worse than he. so you leave him be.

when you’ve known nothing but cruelty, kindness would surely be terrifying.

and you’d certainly expect him to be hardened—cruel to you, even, if only out of self-preservation—but he is not. he is soft spoken and curious and kind, despite the ghosts that cling to him. he is someone who wishes to take accountability for actions he was forced to carry out as a child. he is someone who has done enough soul searching to fill the next three lifetimes. you wish you could take some of the weight off of him now.

“thorfinn,” you whisper finally, cutting through the thick silence that’s settled over you both, “do you think we’ll have enough firewood for the winter?”

you know he knows what you’re doing, but you think the way he settles further into your lap is his way of showing that he appreciates it.

“i would never let you grow cold,” he rasps, muffled by your skin. it makes you smile—the lengths he’d go to ensure your contentment. you think he’d cut down every tree in the countryside if he saw a single shiver from you. you think it’s unfortunate, the way he has no idea of the depth of love he carries in his warrior’s heart.

he might not say it often, but his actions show enough. so this is how you show him your heart—when they come for him in the night, you show them that they will have to go through you first.

this fic belongs to me (@gardenofnoah). i do not allow anyone to repost, edit, or reproduce this work.

[jeweldagger]

thorfinn x f!reader (soulmate au!)

the heat around he two of yo could be unbearable, as houses crashed down onto the floor, engulfed by flames.

houses of people you knew.

you watched as your classmates, friends, family, teachers... you watched as they were all slaughtered in cold blood.

and the boy in front of you was the sole cause of it all.

he seemed to be about your age, not very tall with shaggy, dark blonde hair. his dark eyes glared down at you, an apathetic look on his face.

did he not care that he had just let a group of vikings kill everyone? a whole village? did he not care that everything was up in flames? did it not bother him?

did he not care that.. he was your soulmate?

you could tell he was, purely by the fact that the red string of fate wrapped around your pinky, in linked with his.

his end as various signs of cutting, and attempts to rip it off... and you had suffered from them.

each attempt at harming the string, inflicts an equal amount of pain to both soulmates. each slash dug deep into your skin, and each tug you could feel.

he was desperate to get rid of the string, but only caused pain for the both of you.

"you.." your voice was shaky as you stared up at him, his hand resting at his side.

he spared the string not even a mere glance, his eyes were focused on you and you alone.

his soulmate.

[shinjisdone]

Hello hello~ I'm here to ask for a request of ma boy Thorfinn ฅ⁠^⁠•⁠ﻌ⁠•⁠^⁠ฅ

So, what about: Thorfinn dealing with an over affective, both physically and verbally, reader? Like, she/he always find a casual way to touch him all the time like hugging or playing with his hair or hands, saying him compliments and sweet nothings until he gets flustered

Idk if you will be interested in this but anyways, have a good day/night and remember to drink water! (⁠｡⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠｡⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠♡

Hello! A very similiar request was made here! So I'm focusing on different things in this one.

@luopenis , @jinsecho , @mitsureigen , @theknightssecrets

S1! Thorfinn with an overly affectionate!Reader

Once you two are close, Thorfinn actually does not mind having his hair played with. IF, of course, none of the bandmates see it. If you start doing it though out of nowhere, then he's going to swap your hand off and give you a look that says 'What are you doing?'

He actually prefers to have his hair played with when he freshly wakes up. It brings him back into reality in an comforting way. The blonde won't admit it though (of course he doesn't). Being able to fall asleep with his hair being played with is also...nice.

In general he won't say anything about it or ask for it. At the beginning he'll try to ignore it but now just accepts that this is something you do.

He will be flustered however, if you play with his hands. Especially if you do so after tending to his wounds and just caressing his fingers or littering them with kisses. Quickly he will retract his hand. What are you doing?! Kisses don't mend the wound, he's never heard of that before!

He will be fine if you just play with his hand while you are holding it or when it's out of sight. (Hands hiding between the two of you sitting close together).

Compliments are equally bizarre as they are flustering. Thorfinn doesn't get why you are saying such strange things. It's unheard of among the band to be so...sappy. But it definitely flusters him.

Even simple things such as 'your hair is a nice blonde' or 'you did really well!' Leave him pouting and looking the other way, the tiniest, tiiiniiesst blush on his face.

Thorfinn is silent but accepting of your affections...mostly because it's you.

[tirednamelessguy]

Okay, context: This is just a little scene I typed out in the middle of the night recently for a fanfiction (which isn't really one, it only exists in my head in the form of a bunch of different scenes and some backstory). It's for the manga and anime series Vinland Saga and is a Thorfinn x oc/reader fic. That's all that I wanna say for now, I'll probably reblog this to really get into the nitty gritty of this fic (like giving the actual context of the story). I just really wanted to share this one because I can't get it out of my mind so I gotta. Anyway, enough of me yapping, enjoy.

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The moon hung low in a star studded sea of darkness, shining down on the land. The deep blue river surged on, seeming to carry a thousand shimmering stars in its bosom along its path; to flow for miles before joining at a greater vastness eventually. The glowworms didn't come out that night, painting the two familiars in just the light of the world above. They were staring at the waters in silence, both lost in thought. Erik's fingers subconsciously found their way to her hair when the strain of its bounds started to get a little painful and released them, letting her hair cascade down her shoulders, curled and tangled. A faint sigh left her at the relief to her scalp. She saw a faint outline of her face in the water, watching her locks cup her face but couldn't tell much besides due to the meagre light. She brushed through them with her hand, taming them a bit before her eyes naturally went to Thorfinn, finding his gaze already on her.

They were sitting pretty close to keep warm but the distance hadn't meant much until now, when it felt miniscule yet immense at the same time. Erik's stare wandered from Thorfinn's eyes but not far, finding home in his face still, running over his features— his nose, his brows, his hair, his temples, his cheeks, his ears, his jaw, his chin, his lips; she thoroughly traced it all with her eyes, reading each shape, each rise, each dip, each scar. In its totality, his face looked dreamy, like a haze was pulled over it. Or perhaps it was her who was in a haze, finding contentment in simply gazing at him. It was about time she said something, she was aware of that but words struggled to take form in her head, let alone break free from the confines of her mouth.

"You look beautiful." Finally, he spoke. His voice was gentle, not rising above the gushing water in front of them as a rule. Their eyes reunited and for a second, he stumbled, eyes wide as if he surprised himself with his own words but soon, he collected himself. That was his nature after all. He always knew what to say and each word that left those perfectly shaped lips of his was like the mead of poetry for which she would be down to trickery just to get a taste of.

"It... suits you... this way."

The tug on the corners of her lips grew stronger, a fluttering in her chest made her take in a deep breath; the chill, fresh smells of grass and damp soil filled her chest. Her gaze grew softer and that was answer enough for him. 'Thank you', her smile told him. She wondered what he was thinking, his honey-brown eyes refusing to leave her. What she had in mind was crystal clear though. 'I love you', that was all. She wished she could say it. She probably could but she knew neither of them wanted to break the fragile, sanctious tranquility between them.

For that reason, he let his actions speak, extending a hand and delicately caressing her cheek with his knuckles. In harmony, she closed her eyes, feeling every inch of his hand. If she could somehow collect this feeling of his warm, scarred skin on her face, make an ocean out of it and slowly drown in it for eternity, she gladly would. His hand brushed along her shadowy locks and she ached to look at him again. He had moved— no, he was moving, just so slow that it was barely noticeable.

Their eyes were set on each other, locked in place. As he neared her, she could see his eyes more clearly. Shining in the moonlight, they held not only the colour but also the effects of the most divine mead to ever make her drunk. And from the core of those wells grew his pupils ever wider, a darkness that beckoned her to get closer as well. And she did, hypnotised, leaning closer both to his palm that cupped her cheek now, and his bewitching face. His lips were parted ever so slightly which she replicated. Her eyelids grew heavier, fluttering half way down. His thumb brushed her cheekbone, almost as if to make sure this was real. He lifted his chin and tilted his head to the right and his breath tickled her cheek so intoxicatingly, her eyes couldn't stand to remain open. And if she wasn't dying to feel his lips, she would probably fall back and swoon right there.

He didn't drag her anticipation. His lips connected with hers, feather-light and softer than clouds. That alone was enough to leave her breathless— head feeling light and heart soaring. She wanted to say his name, over and over again until her breath ran out, like it was the chant of Gods, an elixir to the parched lips of a lone traveller. She didn't. Solely because she couldn't with the way his lips blanketed hers, moving in a drawn out way. He was making his point, showing her he meant what he said and more. Erik returned the affection, kissing him with all the softness and all the love she had in herself. Her hand went to hold his free one that rested on his lap, lacing her fingers with his.

Their kiss deepened slightly, the yearning that was in the back of both of their minds taking reins. Her brows drew close. Her heart was crying out, her throat hurt from keeping all the emotion down, the only outlet being her lips which did their best to convey all that they could. Soothingly, Thorfinn brushed his thumb over her warm skin again. He understood, she could tell. Because he felt it too. All those years spent away from each other crumbled and turned to dust before them; disappeared, never to separate them again. Nothing ever could, not anymore. For their hearts would always show the way to the other. Even if the heavens were to rip them apart, even if they were stranded on opposite sides of the world, they would find a way back.

'I love you', her heart whispered yet again and he listened. And he said it back, all in the simple motion of the kiss.

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Just wanna add that I've written more after this but am debating whether or not to put that up as well. I'll probably let it marinate in my notes for a while and post it anyway idk