You Are Good At Taming Wild Things

“You are good at taming wild things”

“You are good at taming wild things,” Ivar teased, as you walked with the pack of five wolfhounds at your heels.

“These dogs have more manners than most men in this village; and they lick their own balls! Sneaking up on someone like that! How dare you-“ You scolded at the rude intrusion… before you realised who it was that interrupted your walk.

Your prince, Ivar the Boneless, Son of Ragnar leaned against a tree taking pause from his crutches. You didn’t have time to question what he was doing this far out, on what you thought was a private trek known only to you.

He was a dangerous and unpredictable man, having killed his brother Sigurd. You had prevoked him enough without intention and didn’t wish to face his wrath so cut your retort short.

But Ivar knocked his head back in laughter. “Maybe it is you that is the wild one after all,” he said licking his bottom lip, looking you up and down.

You blushed despite yourself, pulling your cloak tighter around you.

“We are all alone up here,” he mused looking around the landscape. “You made it uneasy to follow you.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “I’m not that interesting my prince, why follow me at all?” you tried to deflect.

“I am interested in how you train something to do your bidding,” he continued in a low sing song voice that gave you goosebumps. “Do you think it’s best to overpower them into submission? Or better to reward good behaviour in pleasing you?” He raised his eyebrow and you knew it wasn’t the dogs he was talking about.

Your voice cracked a little as you answered, “I do not beat my animals. If you are good to them they will be loyal to you.”

Ivar reached his fingers to rub the ears of the nearest dog. “I hear they are greedy…. that once they have a taste of something they like they always want more.” His blue eyes pierced yours. “I am much the same.”

Your heart rate picked up and you were suddenly all too aware how dense the forest was around you, the thick canopy of shadows, the still blanket of air. If you were to scream out here in fear or pleasure nobody would hear you. “What is it you have a taste for my prince?”

He leaned from the tree towards you, brushing your hair back from your collar bone deliberately with his fingers as you stood frozen.

Your body tingled under his touch and seeing your reaction his eyes flashed with excitement.

He began to wrap his fingers around your throat and whispered against your skin as he kissed it, “Let me make it obvious.”

your mccree x reader fic gives me life ❤️❤️❤️

Thank you, angel!

peter p: but mr america sir, aren’t you technically only 33? are you sure you qualify for this?

steve, taking a senior citizen parking spot and claiming his 15th senior discount of the day: shut your mouth you’re like 5

— Katekyo Hitman Reborn

Imagine Bjorn Being Possessive

Everybody knew who you belonged to.

He had made sure of that.

But he still found it difficult to trust in things. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust you. He had given you his protection, his secrets, his love. Maybe that was the problem. You knew so much about him and yet still fiercely loved him. How could he loose that now?

After all it was them he didn’t trust.

When they saw you, how could they keep their hands from wandering over your body?

When you spoke, how could they not fall under your spell like he had? You had a way of making people feel good about themselves and it was addictive.

So he had to take extra precautions.

He needed to know you were safe at all times. 

He was a hunter, a predator, used to setting traps.

So when everyone thought him away on other business he stalked you. He had learned how to blend into the landscape long ago during his time in the ice so you were oblivious to the weight of his stare.

He evaluated the men who flirted with you, trying to claim you in his ‘absence’. Cold rage simmering through him, stronger than the burning flecks of snow that fell around him. Grinding his teeth into his jaw, tightening his fists so his fingers dug into his palm as he watched them smile at you.

“What do you think of Storr?” He asked too casually over dinner as he tore at the meat.

“I don’t much know him,” you replied honestly. “The first we spoke was a few days ago at a market. He was nice. He gave me a good price for this pot.”

Later the pot would be broken, to be replaced by a finer one from one of Bjorn’s raids.

And the man? Bjorn relished in dwarfing the admirer with the colossal size of his body and his booming voice. Promising that they would loose their fingers as they slept if they were not careful to leave you alone.

When you were together in public he claimed you by walking with his large hand warming your back. As you spoke with others he often played with twirling strands of your hair, all the while staring down whoever you chatted with.

When you had sex it was all about claiming you.

He needed all of you. He needed to be inside you so deep you would feel him there long after it was over. Needed you to taste him on your tongue. Needed you to moan his name loud in pleasure as your legs trembled. When he tugged on your hair or pinned you down roughly it was to show you who you belonged to. To remind you of his overpowering strength should you ever think of leaving. He wanted to mark your knees with grazes from the floors friction as he pounded you. To look you deep in the eyes to make that connection dizzyingly high as you both came.

He couldn’t wait until your belly would one day swell with his child.

But for now the bruised secret he wouldn’t share with you was how he broke apart at the thought that you would tire of him. 

Why you ever wanted him remained a mystery to him despite your promises. 

He was a man full of failings and he dreaded the day you would wake up and see that, seeking solace in another lucky man, never to look back. Such things had broken his parents as people.

The world that had seemed so rich in destiny emptied in value at the thought he could not call you his own.

He wanted to be the only one.

And he would make sure to keep it that way.