A/N: This is my first fanfic, please be kind! I never thought I'd actually write anything… I have had various ideas stewing in my mind for quite a while now, most of them not as "mature" as this one, but I felt like I wanted to do something groundbreaking (gross exaggeration ^_^;) and explore some uncommon (read: crazy) pairings. Wonder if anyone's thought of this before? Jesus, I still can't believe I thought of it! :P Anyhoo, if you like this please review and let me know! :)
Warning: Rated M for a bloody good reason. Contains mature content. Contains oral sex. Don't like don't read.
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Ruffnut Thorston couldn't sleep. She lay on her back staring blankly up at the ceiling, mind racing. Tonight would be her last and only chance, but the thought nested in the back of her mind was so beyond insane she couldn't believe it had come to be there in the first place. She sat up, looking round the room at the other sleeping women.
A large group of warriors from Berk, including the teens, had come to attend the week-long gathering of Viking tribes. The purpose was essentially political, to strengthen existing alliances and forge new ones, but that didn't overrule the carnival-like atmosphere. There had been all sorts of games and competitions for both adults and youngsters, the days ending in feasts in which mead and ale flowed freely. Ruffnut couldn't deny that she had had the time of her life fooling around with her friends, but what had kept her up at night were the sleeping arrangements.
The women of the tribe, including herself and Astrid, had been housed in a large hall with the floor strewn with straw-filled mattresses, furs and blankets to allow everyone to make themselves comfortable. The men slept in the neighbouring room. After she had found out about this, a thought had been nagging at the back of her mind, growing day by day. And despite her exhaustion from the day's activities, Ruffnut had spent at least a part of every night staring at the door, knowing that the men, including one particular one, slept so tantalisingly close, only a few steps away.
Tonight was her last chance. Tomorrow they would set sail for Berk, and the opportunity would be lost for ever. Sighing and cursing herself for a complete lunatic, Ruffnut threw back the covers and stood up, warily eyeing round the room for anyone who might be awake. She couldn't believe she was going to do this, but at the same time she felt excited as adrenaline rushed to her body. She tiptoed to the door and, praying that it wouldn't creak, eased it open enough to allow her to slip through. With a last nervous glance back to ensure she hadn't been spotted, she slipped into the next room, closed the door silently, and stood there still as stone, her back flattened against the door.
A wave of snoring had greeted her as she entered, and she saw the Berkian men sprawled about on the floor on their makeshift beds, deep in drunken sleep. A few shafts of moonlight filtered into the room through the shutters, illuminating the scene.
The last night's feast had been spectacular and so had the alcohol consumption. Ruffnut had timed her exploits well, in the wee hours of the night when everything was still dark and everyone had either finally managed to crawl off to bed or passed out where they stood. Judging from the drinking she had seen taking place, there was little chance that anyone might suddenly wake up coherent enough to wonder what she was doing there, but she wasn't taking any chances. Once she was sure no one was awake, she stepped further into the room, gliding between the sleeping warriors silent as a ghost.
She came to a halt beside her brother Tuffnut, who lay on his belly, whimpering in his sleep and drooling on the pillow. Snotlout, Fishlegs and Hiccup lay nearby in an equally comatose state. Ruffnut' heart was pounding, but she tried to gather her thoughts despite the growing anxiety. At this point, if everything collapsed in a complete failure, she could still save herself. If someone saw her and asked her what in Odin's name she was doing in the men's quarters in the middle of the night, she could always pretend to be drunk and spin a story about wanting to prank her brother or one of his friends. If she went any further, however…No. She would not turn back. She spotted a glimpse of red hair and despite the small, rational part of her brain screaming at her and begging her to stop, she forced one foot in front of the other on the cold floor, painfully slowly and silently, until she stood beside the sleeping form of Stoick the Vast.
Ruffnut was not sure when her desire for Stoick had begun. However, she was fairly sure it had been at some point over the previous summer. In the warm period between otherwise year-round snow, hail and rain, Berk became a flurry of activity: lambing, calving, trading, crops being sown and later harvested, fish caught and dried for the winter, new houses and ships being built. Ruffnut had taken to watching the men of the village toiling at the shipyards near the harbour, busy to complete and fix as many as possible to allow for efficient fishing and trading before the autumn rains gave way to winter. Stoick lended a hand whenever possible, and could often be seen working alongside the other men.
The heat of the brief summer had been intense, and many men worked shirtless to cool themselves down. Ruffnut and Astrid had even joked about this a few times, but Astrid had had no idea that Ruffnut's eyes had more and more frequently started to home in on Stoick's broad back, his muscular arms glistening with sweat as he carried a pile of planks on each shoulder, his huge, firmly muscled, battle-scarred chest heaving with exertion. Ruffnut had nearly fainted once when the fabric of his trousers had tightened and she had seen the huge bulge along the inside of his left thigh. She had staggered home feeling dizzy and weak at the knees. How could the boys of the village ever compare to that? She knew then that she wanted a man, not some spotty brat.
She had chided herself for her obsession: a stupid adolescent girl lusting after a grown man, surely it had to be insane! Not to mention massively embarrassing if anyone ever found out. How had she allowed it to creep up on her? She had persistently forced herself to push away all thoughts of the man, and nearly succeeding until the gathering with the men-next-door sleeping arrangements completely made her self-control crumble away. She was also a thrill-seeker by nature, and the crazier and more dangerous the endeavour, the more attractive it became to her. If she managed to pull this off…
Ruffnut crouched down beside Stoick and looked at him. He was lying on his back under a large bearskin, with his head turned to one side, emitting occasional thunderous snores, chest rising and falling peacefully. His face was calm and he looked younger now that his thick eyebrows were not knitted in a near-constant frown. Heart in her mouth and brain screaming danger, Ruffnut lifted the edge of the bearskin and peered underneath. Stoick was still wearing the white linen undershirt he had worn under his formal tunic at the feast, and simple dark trousers. The heat radiating from his body made Ruffnut's own body ache with desire and her head swim, and before she knew it, all her reason had fled and she had slipped herself in next to the man, completely concealed under the bearskin.
Ruffnut fervently thanked all the gods in Valhalla for the liberal quantities of ale and mead Stoick had consumed earlier that night, thanks to which he was out cold like an Icelandic cod while crazy teenage girls slithered into his bed wanting to do strange things to his body: Had he been sober, he would have been awake and grabbing for the nearest blade the second she knelt down beside him. Ruffnut thought it was a small miracle the man had made it all the way back to his bed without passing out on the way.
Suddenly she froze with fear as the enormity of what she was doing struck her. What if he woke up now? What if someone else did? She could see Tuffnut chortling and snickering, promising to remind her of this until Ragnarök, Astrid gawping, Hiccup's sickened, traumatised face, and Stoick…Oh dear Odin…He would be angry, embarrassed, horrified or disgusted, or probably all of those things. He would probably kill her in the goriest possible way or tie her to a mast and ship her off. She would actually have to beg him to murder her, otherwise she would either die of humiliation or be forced to move away and change her name. The whole scenario could not bear thinking about.
Stoick grunted in his sleep and Ruffnut's breath caught in her throat, her blood turning into ice. But his breathing became even again and her terror ebbed away into nothingness, driven away by lust. Intoxicated by his closeness, Ruffnut snuggled up right next to him, almost on top of him, and buried her face in his chest, feeling the soft fabric of his shirt and inhaling his scent. She lay there in bliss and minutes blurred into each other. She had no idea how long she had been there, but suddenly lying next to him was not enough. She wanted more. She was here and she did not care if she ended up slaughtered like a pig, as long as she had her way now. If she didn't go all out now, she would regret it forever.
Ruffnut inched her hand towards the hem of Stoick's shirt and slowly pulled it up, revealing his bare chest and abdomen. She could not see much under the bearskin, but she traced her hand along the contours of the rippling muscles, massaging the skin round the nipples, burying her fingers in the thick clump of hair that sprouted from the centre of his chest, and feeling hotter every second. She felt almost drunk with desire, the pit of her stomach tingling and her brain swimming in a thick cloud, only able to think of what it would feel like to have this man slide inside her and fill her up completely.
Shakily, her hand found its way down towards Stoick's trousers. Slowly, she loosened them up and slipped her hand inside, finding what she was looking for immediately. Her fingers circled his huge, already semi-hard shaft, and she began to stroke it, feeling it grow harder and harder as she increased the pace. Stoick's breathing was quickening and he groaned again in his sleep, his cock throbbing in Ruffnut's hand, the tip leaking. Even though his mind was lost in drunken sleep, his body was responding, and Ruffnut was thrilled to find his hips starting to pump back and forth along with her strokes. She wanted him inside her, she wanted to taste him, and before she realised what she was doing, she had taken his cock in her mouth, sucking on it and tasting the fluid, massaging the sensitive spot under the tip with her tongue.
Stoick was panting now and he let out a low, growling grunt that made Ruffnut's whole body feel like molten steel as the rhythm became faster and faster. Her head was spinning and oh Thor this was a terrible idea but oh gods he was so huge and hot and throbbing and hard and she was so full of him…Stoick's body shuddered as he reached his climax and came into Ruffnut's mouth in a violent squirt.
Ruffnut swallowed everything, not wanting to leave any evidence. She lay completely still for a while, listening to Stoick's breathing as it gradually slowed down. She felt completely exhausted. With shaking hands, Ruffnut pulled Stoick's trousers back up, his shirt back down and peered out from underneath the bearskin. She slipped out quickly and turned her head, gaze darting anxiously round the room. No signs of anyone awake.
Her whole body was trembling with exhaustion, stress and excitement. She glanced down at Stoick. Not yet. She stared at his weather-beaten face, still peaceful, and traced her hand along his sturdy jawline through his beard. In a final act of madness, Ruffnut leaned in and planted a hasty, rough kiss on his mouth, desperately needing a bit more of his closeness and his hot breath.
Quickly, she stumbled back. Now that she was out again, panic assaulted her. The kiss had been an incredibly stupid move to cap off the series of stupid moves that had started when she left her bed. She had to get away from the scene as soon as possible. She felt hot and cold at the same time, her breathing was ragged, and her knees nearly buckled under her when she scrambled up and made her way unsteadily towards the door, adrenaline rushing round her body. She wasn't sure whether her legs would carry her that far, but she forced herself to stagger back to the women's quarters without any noise, and collapsed on her mattress.
Ruffnut lay there staring at the ceiling, feeling weak and shivering as if in fever. She couldn't believe she had pulled it off. Had it even really happened? Maybe she would wake up to find it nothing more than feverish dream. However, the boiling feeling at the pit of her stomach told her otherwise. She reached down and rubbed the sensitive spot between her legs, the feeling spreading and building up, until finally she was brought to her own climax and she turned her face towards the mattress to muffle her cry.
Afterwards, she felt peaceful and empty, having spilled out all of her tension, stress and hopeless desire. She was light and carefree. And it wasn't long before she drifted off to a calm, dreamless sleep.
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How's that? I know it's just a silly oneshot I mostly composed in the dead of the night, but I hope it was alright. :D Peace!