patch you up, bed you down

She keeps him grounded. She keeps him whole. It doesn't escape the viking king's notice that she's well and truly the thing that keeps him on his feet, day after day. A soft, warm chuckle fills his throat and warms his chest. Víðarr always found himself hard-pressed to keep his hands off of the woman, and who could blame him? Perfect in every way and absolutely all his, a gift he could thank the gods for every fucking day. He would happily admit being absolutely wrapped around Tenshi's finger, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

A brow lifting, a brassy grin slipping across his rough features. Víðarr couldn't help himself, reaching out to drape a lazy foreleg across her side, resting purposefully on her belly. Possessive and tender, pulling her close. Her words come on as a flush over his system, comfortable and further tangled up in her. To be loved is to be seen. To be seen is to be known. To be known is to be loved. By the gods he loves her, and the whole of the nine realms would know it. "This spring, once we take the Crypt, we could have them." The words carried weight, Víðarr watching her face carefully. They'd been diligent about preventing them thus far, for the sake of the stability of the nascent pack. Their strength grew by the day, and by the spring? Gods willing... as long as Tenshi was happy with it too. His heart squeezed. Please.

"Víðarr"