#lagertha lothbrok smut

[claymoresword]

Fatal Attraction | Pt.2

Lagertha Lothbrok x Farmer Fem!Reader

Summary: After a long day of working on your farm, you have an accidental encounter with a gorgeous shield-maiden.

Pairing: Lagertha x Reader

Wordcount: 1.9k

Warnings: fluff, smut, cunnilingus, g!p reader, soulmate elements, in my mind lagertha & y/n live happily ever after

Note: hi, so this is a continuation from the other Lagertha one shot i did with the same title :D before anyone asks, no this won't be a series lmaoo i don't have the time or willpower to commit to one right now but trust there will be more Lagertha stories whenever i get the inspiration.

hope u enjoy!

Once you've laced up your breeches properly, you swiftly extend a hand, assisting Lagertha as she gets to her feet.

Quietly observing as she retrieves her own sword off the ground, the shield-maiden courteously reaches for your ax as well.

“Thank you.” You mutter, unable to wipe the evident smirk off your face. Lagertha rolls her eyes in a playful fashion, fastening her sword belt, whilst you do the same.

You soon take Lagertha's hand in your own, guiding her through the dense forest, towards your farmhouse. “Come, this way.”

It is nearly nightfall now so you had to move quickly, else risk being stranded till morning.

A period of comfortable silence as you walk side by side before Lagertha addresses you.

“Can I ask you something– before we get to your house?”

You nod, pushing past more undergrowth and brush. “You can ask me anything.”

“How old are you?” Lagertha inquires, her eyes fixed upon your face, as if eager for a response; anxious to dismantle you.

“Two and twenty.” You reply after a beat.

You manage to catch the way the older woman's brows furrow for an instant, before her expression sets impassively once more.

“How old are you?” You nudge her with a shoulder.

The distant noise of streaming water is all you hear before the other woman finally responds.

“Older.” Lagertha says simply, this time it is your turn to roll your eyes.

You scoff.

“I gathered that, but how much older?” You attempt, and once more the shield-maiden is opposed to answering.

“I am asking the questions.” She asserts, gesturing to herself.

You bite your bottom lip to conceal your amusement, holding your arms up in mock surrender. “My apologies, go on.”

“How many siblings do you have?” She asks, glancing at the riverbank as you come upon it.

“None. It was only me and my mother.. but she is gone now.” You admit, Lagertha accepts your hand as you ascend the bridge.

You cross the river in silence, but you can sense her stare. Intrigue and pity.

“I am sorry, the wound of losing a parent never truly heals.” Lagertha finally states, and you can only grace her with a nod, hoping to move away from the topic of your mother.

“How long have you been operating your farm alone?” Another question, you can feel your shoulders relax– merely thankful for the diversion.

“Five, almost six years now.” You have no issues replying with the truth once more, you relish the way Lagertha clasps your hand slightly tighter.

You anticipate her next words, willing to answer any question Lagertha might have, all night if necessary. Especially if it meant remaining in her company.

“Have you ever thought of getting married?” Her words prompt a smirk, you steal a swift glance at the older woman before responding.

“I have thought of it.. I suppose I have yet to meet a woman I would want to spend my life with.” You say, looking at her again.

Lagertha's brows furrowed once more, and you quickly realize that she does that because she is thinking. The sight makes your heart pound harder in your chest– she is truly the most enticing woman you have ever met.

“And what would you consider a woman you would spend your life with? What do you desire in a wife?” The shield maiden inquires, as her expectant gaze meets your own, you are tempted to pull her close and kiss her once more.

“Oh, that is easy to answer.” You remark as an idea occurred to you.

Tugging on Lagertha’s arm, you guide her to the body of water before pointing to it.

“You need only use your eyes.” With little light left in the sky, the river is dark, but her reflection is visible enough.

You watch it ripple as you both stare. The older woman is quiet for a while, though you swear she is fighting a smile.

“I don't think a fish would make a reliable companion.” Lagertha finally jests, brushing past you, her hand slips out of your grasp.

You can't help the involuntary laugh that erupts from your chest as Lagertha turns back to you with a grin. She waits for you to catch up and continue your journey back to your farmhouse.

“You are funny.” You compliment, and the older woman simply hums in acknowledgement.

“And you have a very smooth tongue.” Lagertha notes, now that you are practically beaming.

You don't fight the urge to reach for her hand once more; a sense of triumph as you feel the shield-maiden entwine your fingers in a more intimate manner.

“Just wait till you see what else I can do with my tongue.”

═══════════════════════════════════════════

You reach the farmhouse just as the sky has fully darkened, now the world is quiet, apart from the distant noise of crickets in the nearby forest. Even then, the sounds come few and far between. The insects must be hiding out to escape the cold– something you both should also do.

“After you, my lady.” You gesture into your home after pushing the door open.

Lagertha chuckles at your mock gallantry, she has her arms wrapped around herself for warmth as she steps through. “Thank you.”

You observed as the shield-maiden immediately began wandering around the inside of your home, taking in her surroundings. You let out a quiet sigh at the realization that you've left the space tidy enough, initially not expecting any company.

-

Routinely, you fetch a pile of firewood, making your way over to the hearth.

Lagertha's tentative stare is accompanied by a wild fluttering in your belly. She watches you feed the fire as if it was the most fascinating sight in the world– you had to bite back a grin.

“Do you really live alone?” The older woman asks again, and your expression contorts incredulously for a moment.

Why is that so difficult for her to believe?

“Yes, it is just me.” You respond in earnest as you move from a squatting position to approach her.

You hold her eye contact as you stand only an inch or two away. The shield maiden is first to avert her gaze– somehow she is even more gorgeous now, with light from the firepit dancing on her skin.

“Can I ask you another thing?” Lagertha's brows are knitted together once more. Now it is a familiar sight to you, you allow yourself to smile as you reach out to caress her cheek.

“What is it, beautiful?” You coax.

You desperately want to feel her lips against your own, though you decide to wait patiently for her next words.

“Do you believe that sometimes two people are meant to cross paths, for better or worse?” Lagertha inquires, and your expression grows almost mirthful as you quickly understand her meaning.

“Yes, I do believe that.” You ensure, shifting even closer, your gaze flits down to her mouth for an instance.

To your delight, Lagertha is first to eliminate all space between you– practically crashing her lips against your own, your tongue slips in her mouth, allowing you to taste her as you swallow her whimper. The shield-maiden's hand swiftly gets lost in your hair.

Lagertha gasps as your lips part, as if it pained her to separate. Although she maintains a firm hand against your chest, forcibly keeping you at a distance so she may speak.

“I do not understand it but– it feels like I am supposed to be here with you.” She breathes and you nod in agreement it feels as though you had been waiting for her all your life.

“Yes, I feel the same.” You admit, kissing her again, hard and eager until she moaned.

*

You feel your cock quickly stirring within your wool breeches, you want her again, you need her.

Lagertha seemingly shares that sentiment as she swiftly unclasps your ax belt before slipping her hand underneath the hem of your tunic, lifting it over your head to leave you in your smallclothes.

You repeat the same with her garments, and soon enough she stands before you bare, flushed and vulnerable.

“You are breathtaking.” You praise as your open mouth finds her neck. Lagertha is already panting by the time your hand cups her breast, she can only moan at the contact, guiding you closer to your bed.

You watched as the shield-maiden climbed onto your bed, unreservedly, as if it was her own. In truth, she looked as though she really did belong here, in your home.

You can hardly fathom a time when she wasn't in it.

“Come here.” Lagertha coaxes after she catches you staring, her legs parting willingly as you settle yourself on top of her.

Your clothed groin makes contact with her swollen, wet heat as you kiss. She immediately wraps her legs around your waist, seeking more friction.

Her arousal begins to leave a wet patch on your breeches, and the feel of it makes you groan.

She is utterly intoxicating.

“Fuck–” You grunt into her mouth, you needed to feel her and taste her, properly.

Lagertha’s grip on the nape of your neck tightens as you pull away, but the feel of your warm tongue on her breasts causes an involuntary shiver to run through her body.

She is weakened at the mere feeling of your mouth on her flesh, and it makes you giddy with want.

The older woman gasps once more as you deliberately nip at the skin just above her belly button, before smoothing over it with your tongue.

Lagertha trembles anew.

“Please..” Her voice is meek and desperate. What she is pleading for is unclear, although her insistent hand guiding your head further down her body gives you a clearer idea of her desires.

You decide not to deprive either of you a moment longer. Propping her thigh up slightly, at last your mouth makes contact with her weeping sex, ripping a wanton moan out of the older woman.

Her fingers tighten in your hair as you begin to run your tongue through her folds, sucking and licking with little reverence.

“Y/n– oh, Gods–” You proceed to coax a slew of incoherent muttering and groans from Lagertha as you continue to pleasure her with your mouth. Determined to make her feel the best she has ever felt.

The volume of her moans would suggest that you are succeeding.

You begin sucking on her already sensitive clit, and soon the shield-maiden arches her back, grinding her cunt against your mouth.

You decide to present her your tongue once more, this time dipping it inside of her entrance, and this is all it takes for Lagertha to come undone.

She screams out in ecstasy, her hand has fallen away from your hair to grip the sheets next to her, as the violent orgasm rips through her body.

You pull back, moaning at the taste of her on your lips. You kiss a gentle path up her still writhing frame until your face is once more, hovering over hers.

Lagertha's eyes are visibly glossed over from pleasure and arousal. She lets out a breathless chuckle as she looks up at you, wiping your mouth clean.

You kissed her palm then, and she hastily drew you close in response. Her chest is still heaving as her mouth meets your own, heavy and passionate.

As your lips eventually separate, you open your mouth to speak, but the words swiftly die in your throat.

Lagertha's hand begins to travel further down, she expertly locates your hardened bulge.

The older woman squeezes your cock through your breeches, and now all you can manage is a grunt. She beams at your reaction, leaving a contrastingly innocent kiss on your cheek before pulling her hand away and propping herself up on her elbows.

“Lay back.” Lagertha commands.

[fandomnsfw]

The HalfBreed - Ragnar Lothbrok x Reader

Pairing: Ragnar Lothbrok x Reader

Prompt: a request from @alisha-jade

Warnings: smut, cheating (on Aslaug so is it really though), breeding kink, slight asphyxiation not much.

no beta again so spelling errors may occur feel free to message me if anything is too bad!

ENJOY!!

******

You stared in fascination as your father brought Ragnar and his group into the castle. They were a brash bunch but you couldn’t help your fascination as they began shouting and laughing at the fear in the Christian’s eyes. 

You peeked around the corner of the dining hall that was also the throne room. Suddenly your fathers eyes shot up to meet yours. He rolled his eyes and beckoned you out of hiding spot. 

You strolled over to him with grace only a princess could hold. Your red dress swaying slightly as you came to a stop. All the mens eyes were on you and a few were making crude jokes clearly not realising you spoke their language. 

“I think even in your villages it isn’t proper to talk about a princess like that. Am I wrong?” You spoke in there home tongue making them all pause even the beautiful blonde woman that was sat with them.

“You speak our language?” The blonde woman asked. 

“That is what happens when your a halfbreed. Right Father?” You spat at his kingdoms most frequent words for you. 

“Your part Viking?” Ragnar asked with an amused smile. 

“Yes my mother was a shield maiden. My father took an interest on many years ago when she was washed up on our shores.” You answered honestly as your father smiled at the memory of your mother. 

“I see.” The blonde woman chuckled as she watched Ragnar stare at you intently. 

“So which gods or god do you believe in?” A wide eyed, slender man asked his eyes narrowed in a glare. 

“I do not worship their false god if that is what you are asking.” You paused not knowing his name. 

“Floki.” He stated his eyes still narrowed like he didn’t believe you. 

“Hmm…You remind me of the god Loki.” You stated with a grin as his eyes widened. 

“I think he is Loki.” Ragnar whispered making me giggle which seemed to make the older man happy. 

“You must be Ragnar’s wife then. Lagertha?” You stated as you looked at the beautiful woman. 

“Ex-Wife.” She scoffed making you catch the smile that made it’s way to your lips. 

“I see. It doesn’t seem to matter where men are from. They are all brash and unfaithful bastards.” You snorted causing everyone to start laughing especially the shield maiden. 

“I like her.” Lagertha gave a pointed look to Ragnar who rolled his eyes. 

You nudged your father on his excessively large seat at the head of the table. He sighed but moved up so you could sit down next to him. 

You gave him a sweet smile which made him laugh before kissing your head softly. You were your fathers favourite and everyone knew that. Especially your brother who hated you with a passion. 

“So did your mother train you in anything else?” A big man with long wavy hair  asked carefully as he sipped his ale looking at Ragnar who nodded in interest. 

“If you asking if I could take your head off with a sword then the answer is yes. You are Rollo yes?” You asked softly making him clear his throat as he sat up straight.

“My father has told me a lot about your spree around England with Ragnar.” You commented making him nod quietly in response.

You father understood a little of their langue because you had taught him but instead of joining in he allowed you to socialise with your fellow pagan’s. 

Everyone ate and enjoyed each other company before finally your father rand Ragnar began talking about there deal. You rolled you eyes before blocking your father view of Ragnar. 

“I want to go with them.” You stated as he stared up at you with sad eyes. 

“Y/N my sweet rose you really want to leave your poor father?” He asked softly his sadness radiating through his small smile. 

“Father you have your successor and I shall visit when I can. I want to fight! I wanna fall in love with someone who believes what I do.” You sighed in your fathers home language making Ragnar look at you. 

“I understand child. I will see to it then…I love you my little rose.” He whispered the last part in your ear making you smile fondly and return his sentiment.

“Ragnar. I have another term for our deal, I ask you take my daughter with you when you return to your home. She wishes to be with her people.” Your father asked gently making Ragnar nod in understanding. 

“Princess Y/N wishes to come back to Kattegat with us.” Ragnar announced in his home tongue causing everyone to stop there chatter. 

“We are not taking another Christian home with us Ragnar.” A gruff man in the group scoffed and before anyone said anything there was a knife flying through the air straight passed his ear to the throne room door. 

He touched his ear to find in bleeding before standing up and starting towards you. You jumped up, lifting your skirt you could take out your other knife. He got in your face like he was about to beat you but you put your knife to his intimate area. 

“Do NOT call me a Christian. I will cut off your tiny little friend and feed it to my wolf.” You spat in his ear before he finally got the point and backed away.

“We will take her back.” You had expected Ragnar or maybe even Lagertha so say these words however you had not expected Floki to say it. 

“Thank you.” Your father said in their language so they’d all understand. 

******

You stared in amazement as you saw the village come into view as you absently petted your dark grey wolf. People were flocking to the docks waiting for there loved ones or congratulate people along you smile as you glanced at Ragnar who was staring at you.

“Is there something on my face Ragnar?” You chuckled making him smile.

“You are very beautiful.” He stated mischievously as he stepped closer.

“Don’t you have a wife waiting for you?” You replied teasingly.

“As my ex wife would say. That never stopped me before.” Ragnar chuckled as the boat pulled up.

“I see well maybe you should come visit me once I am settled.” You whispered in his ear before hopping of the boat with the help of Floki. You kissed Floki’s cheek before he bid you goodbye and rushed off your see his Helga.

“And who might you be?” A tall slender woman asked with a bright smile.

“You are dressed like a Christian yet our Floki does not treat you as such.” She added as Ragnar hopped off the boat following after you.

“This is my wife. Aslaug.” Ragnar introduced like he hadn’t just been trying to bed you.

“I see Lagertha has told me a lot about you.” You replied sweetly but she could sense the unsaid words that you did not like her.

“I see.” She muttered with a fake smile.

“Rollo said he would show me where I could stay so I will see you later Ragnar.” You said to the blue eyed man with a smirk on your face.

“Of course princess. I look forward to seeing you at the hall.” He chuckled, his hand brushing across your lower back as Rollo approached you.

Rollo grabbed your belongings hauling them up with ease as you stared at his muscles contracting. Viking men were built different and it honestly had your stomach clenching in need. These men could easily throw you about like you were a rag doll. 

You follow at his side as your wolf Shadow followed closely behind you, staring at people as we passed them. Everyone seemed wary of him but you ignored there looks and stroked his fur as you walked.

“I see my brother has taken an interest in you.” Rollo snorted as we approached a little hut.

“Hmm, perhaps but if I was to bed him the main reason would be because I don’t like his wife. I believe women who like to reck happy homes are witches that need a taste of their own medicine.” You chuckled making Rollo laugh whole heartedly.

“Your honestly is refreshing. You remind me of Lagertha back when she was your age.” He chuckled softly as he got a dreamy look in his eyes.

“You love her.” You stated softly as he lowered you belongs to the floor in the corner of the hut.

“Yes but she has never seen me like that. As long as I can fight with her I can accept that.” He sighed quietly making you smile.

“You’re a sweet man when you want to be Rollo. Maybe if you showed her this side she may change her mind. Women like Lagertha are independent and don’t need a man but that does not mean they don’t want one. Do you know her favourite food or drink?” You asked casually as you began to take your belongings out of the gold and wooden chest Rollo had brought in for you.

“Yes.” He answered curiously before sitting down on a bench that was in the hut.

“Well when we go to the great hall maybe bring her some food and a drink. Don’t say anything just sit next to her quietly maybe even converse with people around you.” You answered sweetly as you dug out your gold and jewels. 

“That seems a little simple.” He huffed with an eye roll.

“Women love when a man knows them. Think of it like Shadow my wolf would. When he wishes to mate he brings his female food and provides comfort for them.” You stated simply as you ran your finger through his fur.

“I see.” He nodded in understanding before glancing at your wolf.

“He seems rather large even for a wolf.”he commented as he stared at the giant dark grey wolf that came up to Rollo a waist meaning he was up to your shoulder.

“I know I have no idea why but I’ve had him since he was a pup. I found him in the woods when I was training. It was snowy and cold. His mother was dead next to him along with two other pups who were dead. They’d starved and then frozen by the looks of it but shadow was smart he caught a squirrel and then burrowed underneath his mother and sister. I buried his family and took him home.” You answered sweetly as Shadow nuzzled into your hand.

“He’s very loyal to you. Most wolves prefer to stay in their own territory but he happily followed you here.” Rollo added before he stood up causing the bench you were both sat on to rattle under you.

You let out a laugh making him roll his eyes once again before he set off to the great hall. You took your jewels and started towards a stall you’d seen on your way here that sold clothes. 

Once there you looked through the clothes before picking out a few things and asking the shop keeper how much. She stared at you with a frown before looking down at the gold with wide eyes.

“This is too much miss.” She stated as she tried to pass you it back.

“I know but I very much like your clothes and you work hard on them I can tell. Even my royal seamstress wasn’t that good.” You chuckled making her flush slightly as she gave you a nod.

“If you would like I could braid your hair for you after you change. You are going to the great hall for the celebration?” She offered kindly making you smile brightly.

You knew how to braid but not as well as the shield maidens so it was nice to have the offer which you gratefully took. She asked you what it was like to grow up around people in England and you asked her some tips on braiding it was pleasant and a lot different from any interactions you’d had with anyone in Wessex.

People may have not said much to your face as you are a princess but that didn’t stop you over hearing the horrible things people said behind your back.

You gave her your thanks and left the old dress with her telling her she could reuse it for whatever she wished. You collected Shadow from the hut before making your way to the Great hall with directions from a few people.

You opened the doors to the great hall your wolf at your side as everyone stared before Floki ran up to you with a childish giggle. He dragged you over to meet Helga who was sweet and very calm compared to her lover.

Rollo sat down next to you but not before passing Lagertha a drink of something and food. You smiled at the action as he engaged you in conversation. Lagertha looked shocked at the action but chose to eat her food and drink from her cup as she kept side eyeing Rollo.

“Well I’m glad you could make it Princess.” Ragnar’s voice stated behind you causing your wolf to growl as you jumped.

“Settle boy.” You whispered to him as he laid back down at your feet. 

“It appears your wolf does not like me.” He huffed playfully as he took a seat next to your other side. 

“Maybe he can sense you devious intentions Ragnar Lothbrok.” You giggled making him smile down at you, his ocean blue eyes shining with there usual mischief. 

“Would you like a tour of our lovely Kattegat?” He asks suddenly and his wife’s eyes found yours with a glare. 

“Hmm I would love to.” You answered sweetly, not taking your eyes off Aslaug. 

You stood up but as you wolf started to follow, you told him to stay making him whine. You rolled your eyes before pointing to Floki.

“Go sit with Floki.” You instructed and he glanced at the man before huffing and walking over to him. Floki stroked his fur as he waved at you to go. 

You were walking beside Ragnar for a few minutes before he moved slightly closer his arm brushing against yours. The white long sleeved dressed was comfortable in the slightly nicer weather Kattegat was experiencing. The dark brown detail down the front was pretty and you were happy to not be wearing the heavy dresses you’d worn as a princess. 

“You seem to be fitting in very well.” Ragnar spoke suddenly causing you to jolt a little.

“Everyone is nice here. It makes a difference from how people treat me in Wessex.” You chuckled as you looked at the small beach in front of you. 

“You were a Princess, how badly could they of treat you.” Ragnar asked sceptically. 

“Men were disgusted by me. Women were afraid of me. To my face they would acted accordingly however I overheard a few things they would say about me behind the kings back…behind mine. They would call me a witch,  say the only bride I could ever be was Satans which by the way is an angel that was kicked out of his heaven and banished to run hell, which is full of demons and people that have sinned.” You rolled your eyes making Ragnar laugh wholeheartedly. 

“Yes Athelstan told me much about Christianity. I believe everyone should worship who they want. I believe in my gods and Athelstan believes in his one god. We are friends despite that.” Ragnar replied with honesty his face serious as he looked down at his boots.

“I believe the same.” You replied softly as you took off your boots before stepping onto the sand with your bare feet.

Ragnar followed your lead, taking off his shoes before stepping onto the sand. He caught up to you his hand coming to rest on your lower back as you contrived strolling, watching the sea. 

His hand felt warm on your lower back, as his eyes gazed at you. You could feel it as it sent shivers down your spine. He shifted a little closer to you, his hand curling around your hip before pulling him close. 

You were pressed against his side as you finally stopped moving down the beach. You could feel his eyes on you as if trying to see your reactions to his sudden closeness.

“Do you love your wife Ragnar?” You suddenly asked making his eye widen though his hands did not move from your hips they weren’t gripping so tightly.

“I thought I did however I think I love that she has given me many sons.” He answered honestly his eyes staring into the darkness that covered the sea.

“I see.” You replied with a small smile.

“I could make you my second wife but I tried that with Lagertha and she left me.” Ragnar sighed softly making you smile.

“I am not surprised Ragnar I would’ve have left too. I have no desire to be your wife Ragnar. If you would like to take me back to my hut and fuck me though, I could definitely agree to that.” You whispered seductively before walking ahead of him towards your hut.

The walk wasn’t long and once the door closed to your hut Ragnar was on you. His right hand tangled in your hair, his lips were on yours as his left hand grabbed your waist pulling your closer.

His tongue stroked across yours gently yet passionately causing you to moan into his mouth his hands immediately trying to rip off your dress. You’d slapped his hands, pulling away from his lips with a grin. 

“Do not rip my new dress Ragnar.” You chuckled softly as you untied the brown leather belt and let it fall to the floor before lifting the white dress over your head and putting it on your chest. 

Ragnar took in your naked form appreciatively as he began stripping. His body was covered with a light amount of hair and muscle definition that you’d never seen on the English men you’d slept with. 

He was built like a beast and it made you clench around nothing, dampness making its way down your thighs. He finally stripped and was back on you, his hands immediately reaching for the back of your thighs to lift you up and laying you on the cold wooden table behind you.

His lips pressed wet, harsh kisses down your sternum nipping at the skin occasionally. Your soft pants and moans filling the air as you stared down at his very clearly hard member. He was big, bigger than you’d had before. 

Ragnar kissed your hip bone before nipping at it the sensation causing a shiver to run down your spine and a deep sultry moan to erupt from your chest. He glanced up at you with a smirk before he continued his path. 

When his lips pressed a kiss right above your slit you were desperate making you thrust upwards to try to get any kind of friction you could. However Ragnar decided hat wasn’t acceptable and slapped the inside of your thigh causing a shocking amount of pleasure.

“Stay still. Naughty girl.” He scolded softly before looking up to see your reaction to his slap. 

You flushed under his gaze as you avoided his eyes. Was that normal? To react like that to being slapped, you thought anxiously. Ragnar’s hands grabbed your hips tightly before he flipped you over so you were bent over the table. 

Before you could question it his hand came down on your ass the sound ringing through the hut. You whimpered, spreading your legs a little so you could push backwards, rubbing against his member. 

“Dirty girl.” Was all Ragnar said before thrusting two fingers inside of your warm wet heat with no warning. 

You let out a startled moan before pushing back onto his fingers eagerly. His free hand massaged the ass cheek he’d just slapped before delivering another one making you moan desperately against him. 

“Ragnar!” You moaned loudly as his fingers started hitting inside you at a different angle causing you to dig your nails into the table beneath you. 

“W-What is that?” You whined softly, trying to push back against his finger.

“I don’t know but I like to call it the magic button.” Ragnar chuckled before thrusting into that spot again. 

“Oh fuck.” 

Your moans were getting louder as they filled the hut, your stomach tensing as it prepared to unravel that amazing feeling you’d only had once or twice. Ragnar’s fingers sped up as he continued his assault on that magic button. 

“Cum for me sweet girl.” Ragnar whispered before his tongue was on your hooded bundle of nerves. 

The angle was awkward for Ragnar it he didn’t care as his tongue lavished you, his finger still never stopping. You clenched around them as his hand came down once against to slap your left ass cheek.

“Oh fuck Ragnar!” You screamed as you finally came around his fingers, your face pressed against the table as you hair splayed messily around you some of it over your face.

“You taste addictive.” He mumbled against you, giving you one last long lick before pulling away from your heat with a wicked smile on his face. 

“You ready my little vixen.” He whispered as he bent over you, his lips tickling against your ear. 

“Mhmm. You gonna fill me up Ragnar? Want you to.” You moaned, your tone needy but quiet. 

Suddenly he thrust into you with no warning just like he had with hi fingers before, causing you to push your back against his naked chest as you pushed him so far in your swore your felt him in your stomach. Your hands gripped his hands that were clutching your hips in an almost painful grip.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you. Want me to fill you up with my seed? Hmm fuck you so good and full.” He growled in your ear one of his hand coming up to wrap around your throat, not quite squeezing it just resting there. 

You felt so dazed from your previous orgasm and his words all you could do was nod to his teasing question. His hand squeezed softly as he continued fucking you slowly but hard. 

“Ah ah. Use yours words sweet girl.” He scolded his hand around your throat tightening again so most of your air supply was gone. 

You should’ve been scared but it only served to bring you closer to anther orgasm. You turned you face to look him in the eyes as you finally opened your mouth to speak. He released his grip but never moved his hand as he stared at you expectantly. 

“Want you to fill me up. Fuck me full with your babies.” You moaned, your head leaning against his collarbone. 

“Fuck. I have many sons. You gonna give me more darling?” He asked as his thrusting started getting faster and more rough.

“You gonna drop everything when I’m big and fat to fuck me when I need your cock?” You moaned as you threw your arm up to grasp at his hair as his tightened around your throat again. 

“I’d drop everything to fuck your pretty little flower sweetheart. Mmm you feel so good can wait until your pregnant and desperate for me all the time.” He groaned against your neck his hand on your hip coming around to wrap around your waist tightly as he began pounding into you at an animalistic pace. 

“Oh fuck! Yes!” You screamed loudly as you felt yourself clenching round him as you felt yourself at the edge once again.

His cock was drilling into that special spot that made you see stars, his thrusting becoming less calculated as he neared his end too. You tugged at his braided hair moaning his name as he tightened his grip on your throat and waist.

“Shit. So close.” He moaned in your ear as he brought his hand from your waist to your wet heat, his fingers massaging your little bundle of nerves.

“Cum for me Ragnar fill me up with your seed.” You moaned loudly before kissing him passionately.

Finally you felt your orgasm rip through you like lightening, your eyes falling shut as you pushed back against him, riding out your high as he finally came too. His hot seed filling you up so much you could feel it.

You didn’t get long to enjoy the aftermath as Ragnar flipped you back over and held you legs up in the air, your knees rest over his shoulders.

“Stay still sweet girl. Gotta make sure you stay filled up with me.” He groaned as he looked down at your abused hole.

You giggled at his actions but made no move to stand up, letting him have his way. You were starting to realised there wasn’t a lot you wouldn’t give to him.

After sometime he finally moved to wipe any spillage with a rag. You gave him a stuttered moan as he gave you a single lick his eyes filled with mischief.

“Beautiful.” He whispered before helping you up.

He didn’t leave immediately instead he pulled your firs over in front of the fireplace before starting a fire and laying down beckoning you over.

 “Your wife isn’t going to be happy.” You chuckled as you cuddled into his chest.

“Yes well I don’t much care.” He chuckled his hair undoing you braids gently, letting your hair fall free around your naked shoulders.

BANG!

“Y/N it worked she-” Rollo paused in his words as he took in your naked form cuddled up to his brother.

“Never mind we can talk tomorrow.” He snorted as he sent you a subtle wink.

“And what was that about my little vixen.” He asked in amusement.

“I may of given him tips on how to seduce your ex wife.” You smirked at him making him roll his eyes before placing a kiss on your lips.

“I can’t say I’m that surprised. Now come here, gonna fill you up again pretty girl.” Ragnar growled playfully making you giggle under him.

[its-all-or-nothing94]

Ravenblade - Part 2 // Ivar Lothbrok x OC

Summary: As Björn would like to keep an eye on his mysterious sister, she has her sights set on someone completely different, to the surprise of her brother and his.

Warnings: Language, Description of violence, light smut (implied but not fully described)

Pairing: Ivar x OC

A/N: Here is the second chapter :) Still, let me know if you wanna be on the tag list ;)

Masterlist

That evening the great sacrifice takes place, which is supposed to bring victory to the Vikings over the Saxons. Some Earl has decided to sacrifice himself for the cause, and Liv now stands beside her big brother and his brothers before the ceremony.

"You still owe me an answer," Bjorn whispers to her as they wait for Lagertha.

"I don't owe you anything," she says, continuing to look straight ahead.

"I still want to know why you're doing this and whose side you're on."

Now Liv looks at her big brother. "I am on Ragnar's side. I am doing this to avenge his death. Nothing more, nothing less."

"But why?"

"Have you seen him in the last ten years? No? Well, I have. And I have my reasons. But let my reasons be mine."

Then, as Lagertha begins to speak in the old language up front, Liv notices Björn slinking away. She doesn't care, but now she is standing next to Ivar. She looks at him briefly, and her eyes meet his. She grins briefly before turning her attention back to the front.

Lagertha is now sacrificing the Earl. Liv watches closely. It somehow fascinates her how her mother pushes the sword further and further into the man's chest.

Liv looks enthusiastically at Sven, who looks at her with a slight smirk. She feels Ivar's eyes on her. Liv likes it when a man is interested in her. It makes it all the easier to manipulate him. But with Ivar, it is something else. Somehow she feels drawn to him.

Once again, her gaze wanders to him, who is also looking at her with his deep blue eyes. A smile creeps onto her face.

When the ritual ends, Liv sees Ivar in front of the large bowl of blood. She walks up to him and stands next to him.

"May I?" she then asks, pointing to the blood. Ivar looks at her in surprise and then nods hesitantly.

Painting blood on someone is a sign of affection. Liv taps two fingers each into the blood and then looks Ivar in the eye before wiping her fingers across his face. Ivar closes his eyes briefly and then looks at her again. They maintain eye contact for a moment before Ivar dips his fingers in the blood and then does the same to Liv.

From a distance, they are watched by Björn and Ubbe. "I don't like this," murmurs Ubbe. He is not comfortable with the young warrior and does not trust her.

Björn shakes his head with his arms crossed. "She's manipulating him. That's what she's good at."

"Normally, I wouldn't have thought of Ivar as someone women so easily manipulate, but with her... I'm not so sure," the younger of the two concludes.

When everyone has retired to sleep before leaving, Liv sneaks out of the hut she and the Ravenblade have been assigned. She walks through the deserted town and creeps towards one particular hut.

Carefully she listens at the door and hears nothing. Then she opens it quietly and squeezes through a small crack. In front of her on a chair lies Hvitserk, snoring heartily. The position can't be comfortable, Liv thinks to herself and tiptoes past him. Then she stands in front of two doors. She briefly points her finger at both and then decides on the first one.

Silently she opens it, and to her luck, it is the room she was looking for. But to her surprise, he is sitting, still awake, with his back to her, and seems bent over something. Still silent, Liv closes the door again and takes a few steps toward her.

"You're quiet, but I know you're here," Ivar says suddenly, then turns to her.

She looks at him with raised eyebrows, a smug smile on her face. "But only because I wanted you to," she says, winking at him.

"What are you doing here?" he asks then.

Liv takes a few steps across the room, looking at what he owns. "Oh, I felt like company..."

Ivar follows her closely with his gaze. He can't figure her out. Liv walks up to him and stops in front of him. She leans down to him and looks him in the eye.

"Don't you want my company?" she asks directly.

"I... Uh..." he stammers briefly, which throws him off.

"I can leave as well," she says, standing up again and walking towards the door.

"No!" he says quickly. "No. Please stay."

Liv smiles at him and then walks back towards him. She pulls a chair towards her and sits in front of Ivar, so they are at eye level. She is so close to him that her knees touch his, and she has placed them to the left and right of his legs.

"Tell me something about yourself, Ivar the Boneless. That's what they call you, isn't it?"

Ivar nods, slightly befuddled, then looks away. "They do..."

"You don't like the name? I think it's a great one. Not as boring as 'the feared' or 'the cruel'.  Most of the time, they don't live up to their names anyway, but you... You're different."

Ivar looks her in the eye again and notices that Liv is getting closer to him. Suddenly she puts her lips to his, and he enjoys it briefly before pulling away from her again.

Slightly ashamed, he looks to the floor and bites his lips. "I can't..." he says, turning away from her. "If you're looking for that kind of company, I'm the wrong guy..." he continues seriously, and Liv looks at him with a raised eyebrow.

"What are you trying to say? If I want to spend time with you, I want to spend it with you, not with someone else."

Ivar looks at her again, and Liv can tell he is incredibly uncomfortable. "I can't... I can't do this. It."

Liv continues to look at him without making a face. Ivar would have expected something else. Either she would laugh at him or feel sorry for him, but nothing of the sort comes from Liv.

"Have you also been told that a deaf person cannot communicate?" she asks, and Ivar does not know what she is getting at. She takes a deep breath and then moves closer to him again. "How many times have you tried? With how many women?"

"Only with one, and it didn't work," Ivar says quietly.

Now Liv begins to laugh softly. But it's not that she's laughing at him, but rather at his pathetic attempt.

"And that already tells you it can't be done?" she asks, kneeling before him.

She starts to undo his trousers, and Ivar grabs her wrists. "What are you doing?" he asks, irritated, but she grins at him.

"I'm trying to prove you wrong." Hesitantly, Ivar lets go of Liv's wrists, and she expertly undoes his trousers.

Ivar feels the lust rising in him and his body changing. She looks him in the eyes and then begins to massage him slowly. Her movements become faster and her grip tighter, but Ivar doesn't mind. Then she winks at him and lowers her head.

It is not long before Ivar can no longer hold on. His body tenses, and he opens his mouth. He tries to stifle a moan and then looks down at Liv, who is just breaking away from him.

She straightens up again, grabs a piece of cloth lying on the table, and wipes her mouth and hands before looking at him triumphantly.

"What did I say? I guess it all comes down to technique."

With those words, she tosses the rag back on the table, winks at Ivar one last time, and then leaves the hut. Ivar looks after her in disbelief. How is he supposed to keep his hands off her now?

The following day the time has come. The enormous army leaves for England. All along the docks, people are saying goodbye to their loved ones.

Liv walks towards the dock where her boat is moored and stops as she passes her brother's ship. It is right opposite hers. Lagertha is standing there with Björn, saying goodbye to him.

"Oh, how sentimental," she says with amusement, and Lagertha looks at her. As always, Liv has uncovered her sarcastic smile.

"I just wish him good luck on his journey, and may the gods watch over him," Lagertha justifies herself. "Wouldn't you like someone to say that to you?"

"I don't need that... I know the gods are with me. I don't need someone like you to tell me that. And luck is for beginners." Liv walks over to her ship and then looks at Ivar momentarily. "Hello, Ivar," she says, winks at him, and then hops onto her boat.

"Well, folks? Are you ready?" she asks the crowd, where her people are already busy making final arrangements for departure.

"Here you are," Sven says, coming up to Liv. "Where were you tonight?" he asks more quietly, looking at her.

"Oh, here and there," she replies, and her gaze briefly wanders to Ivar, who keeps looking at her.

Sven follows her gaze and glares at Ragnar's son. "Were you with him?" he asks, following Liv across the boat.

"Even if I was, it's none of your business Sven, understand?" she says more seriously now.

She is always very relaxed with her people, but if someone tries to undermine her authority or gets too nosy, she is good at putting a stop to it. Now Liv turns to her whole troop.

"It's finally time!" she shouts, then climbs a mast. "We are travelling to England, and we will avenge the death of Ragnar Lothbrok! Until now, you have followed me, and I hope you will continue to follow me! We are the Ravenblade! Du bekar! Du bekar!" shouts Liv, and her men and women cheer.

From the other boat, Ivar watches her closely. She is a true leader, and one day, she will be his.

With anticipation, Liv waits for her cue. It is a grandiose plan; she has to admit. The first troops of the great army get ready and line up. Then it's their turn. She stands up and leads her Ravenblade up the hill as well.

The shieldmaiden lines up not far from the sons of Ragnar and grins. She loves fighting and slaughter. She turns her sword once in her hand and draws the shield closer as Ivar stops beside her in his chariot.

He looks at her briefly but then directs his gaze forward. And then Björn gives the signal. Together they run off into battle.

After the battle, Liv climbs onto the chariot with Ivar. Behind him, they have tied King Aelle, and he is now being pulled through the mud by Ivar. Liv smiles triumphantly at Ivar and then looks ahead again.

As Ivar comes to a stop, the other sons of Ragnar lift Aelle out of the mud. Ivar also turns on his buck and watches while Liv jumps from the chariot. The Boneless One watches her movements closely.

She seems to be examining where they are when Björn asks Aelle about the location of Ragnar's death. The anxious king looks at a place where Liv is already standing, and she then points to the ground with a nod. She steps on the floor with her foot and notices wood under her feet. She pushes the leaves back and forth and then looks at the king.

"Is this the place?" she asks in English. Liv has learned many different languages on her travels. The king looks at her and then nods hesitantly. "This is it," she says to Björn, and he asks his men to open the hatch.

Together they look inside. Ivar has now joined them as well.

"This is the place where our father was killed," he says, looking at his brothers.

The brothers exchange a look, and then Aelle looks at Björn. "How much gold and silver do you want to spare my life?" he asks tremblingly. "Name a price! Anything, anything you want!"

Liv laughs out loud. She bites her lip and waits anxiously for her big brother's answer. But then Ivar interferes.

"You are mistaken! Our father was worth much more than gold and silver." Then he looks to the king. "That is not the price you must pay."

The king knows fully that he is done for and begins to weep. Liv, meanwhile, looks at Ivar, who returns her gaze. Again, a nasty smile creeps onto her lips.

Then Floki grabs the king by the collar and forces him to his feet.

"I was told that your god was a builder. And you don't believe it, but so am I!"

A little later, Floki nails the king by the hands to posts so that Björn has a clear path to his back. Liv knows precisely what is coming now. She stands in front of the king and looks at him disparagingly.

Then Björn tears the king's tunic off and cuts his back open. He cries out in pain, and Liv looks briefly at her brother. When he looks at her, she raises an eyebrow, then turns around and sits down on a tree stump.

Liv watches tensely, and suddenly she notices how Ivar is next to her and creeps closer and closer to the king. Blood splatters around with every blow of Björn's axe, but Liv doesn't care. She is covered in blood anyway. She sees the fascination in Ivar's gaze and watches him momentarily.

With each successive blow, the life drains more from Aelle until the king is dead.

"I didn't think he'd last this long," Liv whispers to Ivar as she leans down to him.

Ivar looks at her briefly, and enthusiasm is reflected in his eyes. He is probably more like Liv than she thought.

The following day, the lifeless body with its open back hangs over their heads, finally wiping the blood from its face with a scrap of cloth. Ivar sits with Floki on his back, and they all look at the pathetic king.

"Come on...  Another king is waiting for us," Björn says and trudges off.

Liv looks at Sven, who is eyeing her critically. She walks towards him.

"If you have something to say, say it," she demands.

The big man looks at her momentarily but then shakes his head.

"Thought so," she says, then follows her brother.

It's beginning to get on her nerves that Sven always looks at her with that reproving look.

[barnes-lothbrok]

I posted 2,451 times in 2022

That's 2,451 more posts than 2021!

95 posts created (4%)

2,356 posts reblogged (96%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@spaghettificationandpretzels

@underragingwaves

@ofmanderley

I tagged 249 of my posts in 2022

#ivar the boneless - 117 posts

#ivar ragnarsson - 104 posts

#ivar lothbrok - 95 posts

#vikings - 89 posts

#hvitserk ragnarsson - 57 posts

#hvitserk lothbrok - 43 posts

#hvitserk - 32 posts

#ubbe ragnarsson - 24 posts

#ivar x hvitserk - 23 posts

#hvitserk whiteshirt - 19 posts

Longest Tag: 111 characters

#double orders on ingredients would have to be make and double goods baked. one for the customer. two for hvitty

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Against the World

Request by @rachelcarroll1819

Could you do one where the reader is Lagertha younger sister and in a relationship with ivar the boneless( they dont have to be full sister amd she was born a day after ivar and ended up being raised by her sister with the boys) 

I tried ♡

Warnings - mainly fluff, death of family, blood.

Word count - +1k

*×*×*×*×*×*×*×*×*×*×*×*×*×*×*×*×*×*×*

See the full post

146 notes - Posted September 28, 2022

#4

See the full post

201 notes - Posted September 12, 2022

#3

Little Love (Tattoos II)

Ivar x Reader

Summary- Ivar admires his pregnant wife sleeping.

Warnings- fluff, mentions of pregnancy and being pregnant

Word count- 1k

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

See the full post

281 notes - Posted November 6, 2022

#2

Jealousy

Ivar x reader

Summary - Ivar and you have always had a bond, a closeness but over time and as you mature things change, Ivar gains feeling he can't explain

Warnings - angst, fluff, death of a parent, swears

Word count - 2k

ווווווווווווווווווווווו×

See the full post

337 notes - Posted September 18, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Tattoos

Ivar x Reader

Summary- As Ivar sleeps, his wife admires his tattoos

Warnings- fluff, implied smut?

Words - 600

Mon coeur = My heart

°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°

See the full post

362 notes - Posted October 29, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[phoeebsbuffay]

Imagine “Star Wars” special edition: crossovers II. Vikings.

Imagine you are a shieldmaiden trained by Lagertha. You end up found by Darth Vader, who is at your planet to dominate it.

Warnings 1: a lot of (?) smut, violence, action, ambiguous character, unburnt Vader, adult language. Not recommended for minors or those who are sensitive to any of these themes. No Padmé or the twins in this universe.

Warnings 2: mentions of Lagertha, Björn, etc—this happens before her death, right in between the civil war amongst Ragnar’s children. Bear in mind this is an alternative universe, though.

Warnings 3: fluffy endings :)

***

Intro.

Vader’s POV.•

The Emperor gives his pupil a list of planets where the Force has been found within potential enemies. He usually assigns this task for others, overall inquisitors, but because there are relevant allies who contacted him, Palpatine believes Vader can deal with it in person. As he explains:

“You ought to land in planet Y/C, where a man named Rollo waits for you. He’s been our spy since the rise of our Empire. It is important you deal with the man and instaure our forces there. That planet has been resisting us for some time. You know what you ought to do.”

“As you wish, Master.”

Vader goes on his knee, before rising and preparing his ships for depart. The hood he wears omits his features and there is nothing within him but darkness.

His recent elevation to a Sith Lord followed a path filled with horror, losses and blood. Despite the efforts played on meditation, screams of the victims of his sabers never cease to haunt him at night.

As he enters his ship, though, a rather strange sentiment flows through him. It is when he has a vision of this lady of braided hair dressed in unusual clothing, carrying a shield and a sword. There is something enigmatic in those eyes, which he cannot decipher. He is, however, strangely captivated by this sight.

One wonders what she has for me… Why should the Force show me you above all others when clearly I should be dealing with this Rollo?

Nonetheless, Vader suppress his inquiries. It’s time to complete his mission.

***

Your POV.

You are sharpening your sword in the earliest hours of the morning. Wide awake, a boost of energy remains in your body right after you trained with another of Lagertha’s shieldmaiden.

However, you are now by yourself and you decide to take a walk in the surroundings to make sure there is no danger around. Despite the possibility of meeting any of Ivar’s army, you are not afraid. Living in the days of war means there is little time to nurture any sort of fear.

Emboldened by this thought, you leave a hand rest on the basis of your sword all the while you carry a shield on your left arm. You have an instinct that you mind find someone—or something nearby—so you are alert.

As you walk, sun rises higher and the first rays of light begin to cast at you. It is slightly cold because of the morning mist, but you don’t mind. You dress a bear’s skin over your shoulders and a leather brown gown that now falls loose over your legs—you had tied the skirt of it around your thighs at your training. So you are not entirely cold.

As you cross the field, you are disturbed by some sense of danger. You close your eyes, trying to picture a field force around you: a trick you’ve learned in your meditations lessons when you were younger. Somehow it always works with you. Björn would say you are favored by the Gods, a thought that most seem to agree with since you don’t die in battles.

You don’t see why the divine would favor you, but you don’t complain. It is something you carry since your birth: the ability to read people’s emotions—whether they are lying or being genuine, being kind or distrustful, etc—besides sensing where there is danger. You could also possess the envision of future events, hence why you are so valuable to Lagertha.

However, for this same reason is why Ivar wants you dead, why Björn wants to fuck you, why Ubbe is always after you. You’d flirt with both, but you know very well why they are interested in you, and it’s always upsetting you.

I am more than this, I am not just some child of the gods that these men seem to be so fortunate to have around. They barely try to get to know me at all!

Thoughts that are always going back and forth to you, the very reason why you’ve become isolated with few friends. But now at the present these cannot—must not—distract you from the threat the unknown poses you.

It’s when you finally meet him. A hooded figure, arms folded, stares right into you. You sense somehow that your sword is not going to be enough to defeat that figure. Nonetheless, you lift your shield and try to channel the divine gift you seem to possess.

“I am not here to hurt you.” The male voice is heard. You cast a distrustful glance. “I am looking for Rollo. Are you familiar with the man?”

Your chest is heavy. The figure gives you bad vibes. You should turn around and let Lagertha know of this unusual visitor, who has business to Rollo.

“You have the Force, I see.” The man casually speaks in spite of your stunned silence. He steps forward to where you step backwards. “You haven’t been trained on it, have you? If you lead me to this Rollo, your life will be spared. I can teach you how to deal with it.”

You unsheathe the sword and raise your shield. You swear you see an amusement twinkling in his eyes, even though you don’t see them. As pathetic as you feel—he is stronger than you, clearly—you are not submitting easily.

“Is that your decision?” He laughs. “You choose to fight me with your primitive weapons? You strike me as a reasonable individual.”

“Your words are poison. You are trying to overpower me.”

You capture a glimpse of his face, the wind now blowing a cold breeze. There is something about his features that make his presence enigmatic, that draws you to him. Though you sense he’s not a good individual, you cannot stay away. It is almost as if you are pulled to him.

“I don’t have to try.” He responds calmly. “I do overpower you.”

You swallow hard.

“So what is going to be?”

***

Vader’s POV.

This planet astonishes him by different cultural expressions he doesn’t follow at first. But those who attempted to cross his path are not living to tell further about his mysterious presence.

Until you come along, Vader is indifferent to his surroundings. The moment he senses Force coming from the forest is the one he knows he’s being distracted from his duties. But I have to find out what it is.

Standing now before you, Vader smirks at your conflict. When reading into your thoughts, he does not need to take too long to find out about you, who you are and the kind of warrior you’ve become.

Some part of him, in fact, refuses to admit how he unconsciously relates to your journey so far. An orphan slaved girl who ends up earning the freedom upon her owners are told how special you are and now here you are, a shieldmaiden fighting a civil war. A soldier like him. An untrained jedi, the parallels are there to see.

Even him cannot look it away.

“You don’t strike me as a reasonable person.” A wit response that, had come from someone else, would have them killed. Not you. Vader seems to appreciate your sharp tongue and sharper mind.

“No”, he agrees. “Many would claim otherwise. And yet here we are. Do you know this Rollo or what?”

“I don’t.” You eventually give in, though your defensive posture remains the same. “Why? What business do you have with him?”

“It’s none of your concern. You say you don’t know him, but your mistress might.” He is tired of this tension and soon removes your weapons. “You are taking me to her.”

The Jedi trick doesn’t work with you as well as he hopes. Your mind shield is impressive, though. But something about you, or at how you attempt to resist him, weakens his darkness.

“How can I know if you are not Ivar’s spy?” A question he sees you regret asking since you realize the illogic phrasing. You’d likely been killed were he someone sent by your enemy. “I am worthless to you.”

“On the contrary. You know that.” He wraps one hand around your neck, caressing it. Perhaps he waits for you to resist, not entirely surprised you don’t. “There is fear in you.”

But also desire, he sees it now. Because he feels it too. The Force draws him close to you and vice versa. Vader’s hood has long dropped showing his face, but he does not mind. Not when he’s into your head.

“Stop messing with my mind”, you protest. “Kill me if you must.”

“You underestimate yourself.” He tilts his head, letting go of your neck. “I was once like you. You are only obeying others all the single time. Isn’t it tiresome? To fight wars that are not yours? To what purpose? To be desired single-handedly for your divine powers?”

The shock in your face betrays your conflict. Oh yes, I understand you more than you think.

“I will take to her.” You hesitate. “If you assure me you’re not killing her.”

“A promise I cannot make.” Vader tells you. “It depends of your success in this.”

You step backwards again. But where you could have run off, you don’t. It’s when a noise distracts you.

You sense the army of the enemy coming to that direction. Vader watches as you take your weapons back and run back to where you come from.

He watches from where he is the very moment you battle your enemies. Vader is personally amazed by how you are scarcely hurt in the process.

There is something alluring in you too, when your braid gets dirt of blood, when you channel your anger and fear to knock the opponents down; of your cocky teasings to the enemies.

You remind Vader of his former self, of the days where he was a Jedi. There is something so similar, yet so different at the same time. He does not like to overthink. That is when he decides to step in at long last.

***

Your POV.

You stand not too far as you see the man is actually familiar to Lagertha, who greets him well. You come to see that she is familiar with the Sith to some extent.

“We make business with them”, Lagertha explains you, giving how puzzling you’ve been looking from her to Lord Vader. “But that your emperor is trying to make business with Rollo does surprise me, though. He’s a bastard who cares with nothing but himself.”

“Nonetheless, where can I meet him?”

For someone so quietly frightening, Lord Vader knows how to charm others to get what he wants.

You ignore that your thoughts are heard and thus amuse him. Negotiations bore you, so you excuse yourself to go to the lake. You need to bath, hating to smell bad.

As you do so, you ensure that no one is following you. The Force seems to calm your fears, so you relax your guard. You remember the words of lord Vader, beseeching your memories and bringing back that uncomfortable feeling of serving others.

You remove every piece of clothing before stepping into the river, hair down in your back, completely nude. Water is damn cold but you don’t seem to mind at first.

You wait. As you do, wind blows a warm breeze against your skin. Thankfully it’s midday and far hotter than earlier. It is only when you finally dive in that you feel a pair of eyes on you.

You would have panicked… but strangely enough you don’t when seeing the man of yellow eyes and short hair standing at the opposite of you. The first thing you do is cover your boobs with your hands.

“What are you doing here, Lord Vader?” You ask him, but something about his eyes glued on you are making you warm right in the between of your legs even though the water is not exactly hot.

“I came to see you. I find you restless. Lady Lagertha seems to think so.” He side smirks at you. “You are too great for a shieldmaiden, Y/N.”

“And are you going to settle in an arranged marriage too once war ends? Don’t you think this is a small perspective for you?”

He asks you. His voice sounds like a thunder, tumbling in your chest. You don’t answer him, no. You give him a glance and then dive in the waters of the river.

You stay there for a long time. It begins to make you cold. You hold your breath, eyes closing, taking a deep dive in your meditation might cost you.

Memories of past wash over you. The fire, the hurt you’ve been through. Always serving. Always aiming to please, always fighting for others to see you who you are.

Always invisible when others took what you had. You remember Björn’s flirtations, or when Ubbe broke your heart. It suffocates you, it…

“Y/N.” He takes you of the waters of river. You stand before Lord Vader soaked and shaking, gasping for air. “Don’t let Force consume you. You are a free spirit. Let me unchain you.”

And that is how you end up becoming his pupil.

***

Vader’s POV.

His eyes follow your moves everywhere you go. That morning he watches your trainings with the saber, your concentration, your moves. For the first time in a long while, you are balanced.

How ironic that it is I the one to brings you to the balance of the Force.

Once you finish your practices you walk inside, ready to prepare your bath. This time he joins you. And you are surprised to find him just as you slip into the bath tub.

“Do you mind if I slide in?” He inquires quietly as usual.

You’ve become used to each other’s presence. Vader’s teachings seem to stretch to something else somewhere along the lines, but you don’t seem to know what that is or you are at least scared to figure it out.

Vader knows your thoughts and sentiments well. As he tosses his clothes out and a blush paints your cheeks, he has the confirmation of it.

“I am no good man, Y/N.” He slides in, standing right in front of you. Vader’s eyes linger to your hair, your oval face, going down to your breasts and below. He knows he affects you. You likewise affect him. “I thought you knew that.”

“I don’t think we are either too good or too bad.” You lean your back against the tub, gently adjusting to the space you now share with him. “Though you manipulated me to be here, you can’t deny I am here willingly. Otherwise I’d be dead, right?”

Now you lean forward to be closer to him. His eyes stare at yours as you rest your hands over his thighs.

“What beast did I set free?” He asks maliciously.

You side smirk at him.

“This is who I always was.” And you take his manhood into your hands, surprised somewhat for finding it prompted to erection. “You know it.”

He takes a deep breath as you hold it gently into your hands. You tilt your head, observing his reactions as you feel it pumping into your delicate fingers.

“Do I?”

He cannot deny the lust you evoke him. Having seen you naked a few times, it is only natural it comes like this. But he desires you for who you are, for the other half you seem to be. When he opens his eyes and rests them on your face, Vader knows there is more than words are suffice to say.

So he kisses you hungrily, just like that. Crudely so. Desperately so. And you respond willingly so, moved by this newly risen passion that holds a tight grip upon your heart.

It as is better than any praise you’ve received in the past, whether by the men you’ve fought alongside or by the mistress you served. It is far superior than showing a superior force over the enemy and subduing him at your will.

A sentiment that reflects Vader’s. As he kisses you, his moans shut by the dance of tongues, as he is aroused by your skillful touch into his manhood, Vader begins to acquaint himself with the greediness towards you.

He does not wish, nor is inclined, to share you. And you feel it, like a electrified field. You are ignited by that spark and you give in.

And after a while, when water is cold, he comes right into your hand. Vader watches as you lick your fingers, a temptation that is too much to behold.

In a teasing manner, you stand and grab something like a towel, but the moment you do, Vader takes it from you. A commanding man, he bosses you around and you obey. You are mesmerized by how tall he is, how great he is, his muscles well build… Yet, those yellow eyes don’t let you do anything.

There is little need for words when he uses the force to pin your hands above your head the moment you lie down in bed. His strong thighs are dominating yours after spreading your legs; you see his pulsing manhood, the tip of it close to your entrance.

Vader smirks at the power he has over you. His eyes stare indecently over your breasts before leaning his callous hands to play with your nipples.

“Is this good?” He asks you, aroused by your reactions. Your body reacts at the very least touch. Your skin burns under his fingers. Vader wants you. Badly.

“Yes.” You throw your head back. “Oh Gods, have mercy on me!” You cry out. “Freyja is so good.”

He leans forward to reward your cries with a deeply passionated kiss. As his hands move down to your womanhood, he inserts two fingers at once and he smiles against your lips as you whimper under his command.

“Tell me, have you ever done this to someone?”

His voice is husky, his lips pursuing yours before leaving traces of kiss over your face and neck, giving you bruises.

“O-Only once.” You gasp loudly and Vader senses your desperation when he engulfs your nipple with his tongue all the while working on you with his very occupied fingers. “Y-You are the best. Oh fuck!”

He likes the praises, despise the fang of jealousy when it comes to you. The sounds you make soon appease the darkness trait that poisons his heart. You are begging him to ruin you and Vader smirks at how a powerful shieldmaiden subdues so easily at his will. It arouses him, but he wants to see you a mess.

As he moves his lips over your right nipple, he feels you are about to come undone. He wants to watch you as you do so. It’s when you ask him:

“H-Have you..?”

Vader slyly smirks at you. He uses his free hand to hold your chin tightly, before wrapping it around your neck.

“Why so demanding in asking?” He inserts a third finger, earning a scream this time. “Does it please my lady to know I have been taken in the past?”

You blush furiously, much to his delight.

“Lord Vader!” You protest.

“Come to me, love.” He watches you roll your eyes, arching your back, unable to use your hands. And just like that, you do. Your juices leave his fingers completely soaked.

And he crawls over you. When you are about to catch your breath, Vader thrusts into you.

“Oh Maker!” He exclaims, avid for you.

And when leaning forward to kiss you, he knows how easily you are coming undone again.

“You are mine”, your words come uninvited, but Vader smiles warmly at you.

“I am.” He releases your hands and his smile spreads as you hold him tight against you, legs wrapped around his waist as your hands are now playing with his hand.

“I am yours.” You vow it, before kissing his lips passionately.

***

Your POV.

You are dressed in leather when you land in Paris. Rollo is baffled when he comes to meet Lord Vader. But his expression diverts to amusement when his eyes move from you to him and vice versa.

“Looks like I am not the only one to be successful. Does Lagertha know how far you’ve become?”

“As I don’t find the need to justify my actions to her”, you remark, “I don’t need to do the same to you, Rollo.”

“We are here for business”, Vader cuts Rollo’s response. “The Emperor does not wish to waste his time.”

“I figured you have already.” He looks at you up and down, but before he knows, Vader is closer to choke him.

The only reason why he doesn’t is because Rollo is an essential key for the negotiations.

“You talk to her like that and you will not live again.”

You smirk victoriously. Before the trio enter the castle built on rock, you admire the construction of the place. It is funny to think how far your life has changed since his arrival.

When being greeted by other noblemen, most of whom find your pagan origins abhorrent, you don’t mind their despise. You dress in fancy gowns, embellished in jewels, although you miss to be at the core of battles.

This might not take long as you believe. Some of the locals are planning a rebellion against their lord—that is to say, Count Rollo. But once you sense it, you prepare your sword. Having left Vader to his business—you are a shieldmaiden not a politician, you lack patience and taste for this—, you begin your own pace in the surroundings.

It all happens very fast. You don’t need to use your saber—you prefer your sword—, but you are prepared to make use of the Force when necessary. Even in your best gown, with your hair carefully braided in a similar fashion of Lagertha’s, you don’t fear getting yourself dirty in the process.

You’d soon earn the nickname of Valkyrie of the Force due to your implacable capacity in fighting opponents uncontestedly—though you got some help from other soldiers because you are not that powerful to beat fifty or sixty locals.

There is bloodshed, naturally. But you manage to resolve the situation, smiling all the way you fight like Freyja. You could’ve been Lagertha’s heiress had it been possible, but your spirit aims higher. The liberty no chains or titles could tie you.

By the time Vader comes, the rebellion is settled. There is blood in your cheek and he sighs when cleaning it with his gloved hand.

“Why must you get involved in this unholy mess, Y/N?”

“A warrior does not dodge away from battles that must be fought.” You know your braid is a mess, but you also see in Vader’s eyes when you are folding your arms and the braid drops on your shoulder that you are looking good. You smirk. “You like it, don’t you? Why protesting against it, though? It’s my nature and you won’t change it.”

He heavily sighs at you, shaking his head. You love to make things difficult for him. But there is little time to discuss it once Rollo is left dealing with the consequences of a rebellion that you helped crushing it.

“So where do we go now?” You ask him.

“Matters to attend with Lagertha.” Anakin responds you. When seeing how this insignificant phrase wipes your smile out of your face, he smirks. “Am I detecting jealousy in you, Y/N?”

“No.” You clear your throat, diverting your gaze. “I only…”

“Yes, you are.” He smirks, satisfied to have you where he wants: his counterpart in every meaning of the word, specially where darkness is concerned.

He comes from behind you and kisses your neck, snaking his arms around your waist.

“You don’t have to worry, it is you I love, not her or anyone else.”

You barely have time to chew the meaning of his words, how coy they sound to your ears because you are interrupted. The Emperor is calling and you take the opportunity to bath in the ship.

***

Vader’s POV.

When he sees you dressing in red silk with your partially loose falling behind your back, Vader is instantly aroused by the sight of you. There is a feast about to happen, in order to celebrate the successfully conquest over the planet that will catapult in Vader becoming king of it and you, his queen.

“Hold on.” He prevents you from leaving the household. There is just the two of you in this cabin that Lagertha bequests for you. “Let me appreciate you, woman.”

You turn at him, blushing. You are not very comfortable in silk, but because of the special circumstances, you are dressing it in your favor color: red. Which, by intriguing coincidence, is also the same color of your paramour’s sabers.

He surrounds you like a hunter about to get the prey, his gloved hands gently touching the little of your neck that is exposed. Vader, always attentive to details, sees by the shivers that run over your spine that his mere touch arouses you. He smirks, admiring your beauty.

He kisses your neck, there staying for so long, earning you a long and lousy sigh. He sees that you are squeezing a hand over the other, your nipples are going hard under the cloth of your gown.

Vader bites your earlobe, smirking devilish at you.

“Do I make you weak?” He asks you, slowly turning you at him.

“My love, we are running late.” You barely breathe when his hands move from your neck below, making you draw indecent thoughts.

“You are not answering my question.” He makes you watch him in his eyes before Vader goes on his knees. “Do I?”

You are petrified as he lifts the skirt of your gown. You breathe in anticipation, his hands already resting on your thighs.

“Y-Yes.” Vader does not conceal how much he enjoys having you at his mercy. The higher his fingertips go, the more shaky your legs go. “Lord Vader, you don’t know how… how…”

“You are saying?”

Vader smiles when invading your thoughts, the secrecy of them coming open to him. His fingers soon find his familiar way to you, and he is surprised to see how you give in, struggling not to fall straight to the floor.

He chuckles, watching you trying to keep yourself composed. Specially when he lifts the skirts of your gown higher and replaces his fingers with his mouth. And just like that he eats you out.

And even when you and Ubbe did indeed engage in some sexual flirtations that resulted in having you deflowered by him, he never went as far as doing what he is doing to you.

Vader knows it and he takes pride for giving you another level of pleasure. It is when the door is abruptly open by some guard, but there is no time for embarrassment… because he uses the Force to send the guy away. If he died in the process, he wouldn’t care.

And neither would you, despite the initial startle—however being caught gives you adrenaline in your veins. Malicious ideas barely have time to form in your mind because you end up crying out as you ride his face.

“Fuck.” You are breathless, still feeling your womanhood ache when he stands and cleans his mouth with the sleeve of his dark robes. “My darling…”

He pulls at his side and smirk down at you.

“There will be more when I make you my wife.”

Your face brightens up in such a manner that makes him beam. It appears you are his weakness after all.

“I am looking forward to that.”

You tell him, overjoyed as you start going out to the feast. Vader reads your sentiments well and he feels back to himself again. He is also much entertained by how you struggle to walk, your mind filled with unspoken dirty confessions that would arouse him, but there is no time for that. Not yet.

Not when the feast is about to bath in blood…

*

Björn looks grumpy as much as Ubbe is disappointed when Lord Vader shows up. He sees in each face what are their inappropriate thoughts concerning you. He makes sure at least one chokes with wine—enjoying the suffering he inflicts on the other.

I am not tolerating any rivals tonight.

But one glance from you and he might let them live. It is not the time for it yet. He then is entertained by Lagertha with a proposition that pleases Vader and, by extent, the Emperor.

It is when an idea begins to form in his mind: what if I become Emperor myself?

For most of his life he’s been obeying here and there. Now, it is all clear that he’s been serving no one’s purposes but that of Palpatine’s. Vader decides to make a good use of the civil war for his own end.

This time, it ends here. Like he freed you before, he is setting himself free from the chains of empire once for all.

***

Your POV.

The surprise attack results in a bloodshed whose consequences are catastrophic for both sides of the civil war. You are concerned with your mistress, but you notice Vader is not nowhere to be seen.

Where is he?

You refuse to use your hate to your benefit, but when you spot the traitor figure of Hvitserk you lose your composure. If once upon a time you were friends, now you evidently are no more.

As glamorously as you are dressed, with perhaps ripping a part of your gown that is now showing your left thigh, you are skillful with the use of your sword.

“Looking good for a shieldmaiden.” He snarls at you, trying to turn the tables. “How far have you become.”

You apply a great deal of blows against him, but he is unaffected by your hatred. You never forgot how he betrayed you, selling you to Rollo in the very first opportunity. You were once close friends, but after that…

But the resentment turns into angst. Old memories boil and the next thing you know, you dishonor your own code by using the Force to your purpose. You surprise him by lifting him.

“I have the higher ground here, my friend.”

He is terrified by what you’ve become. He struggles for air. But you don’t care, not anymore. Had it not been by this, it would be by sword.

Is there really any difference?

But your heart hasn’t been completely corrupted by darkness. So all the while the royal tend burns in fire and blood, you let your former friend live.

It’s only then Vader arrives to meet you. And once again the coward Hvitserk runs from you.

***

Vader’s POV.

He knows what happened and is there to console you at long last. You don’t ask where he’s been through, too shaken to talk. You’d go back to fighting but he stops you.

“No. It’s time to go.”

“What? I’ve been fighting this war for too long…”

You are a soldier like I was a Jedi.

He sees now why the Force has brought the two of you together.

“It’s over, Y/N. The war ended tonight.” You are baffled by what he tells you. “Ivar the Boneless is exiled, victory belongs to Björn Ironside. He rules uncontestedly Kattegat.”

You don’t want to ask, but you ask anyway.

“And Lagertha?”

Vader hesitates, but gives you the news you already felt in your heart. And he watches you break down, a sight that pained his heart. But he holds you close, giving you the feeling of security after years fighting.

For better or for worse, it’s over. For both of you.

*

At least in terms. As you move to England, you are by Vader’s side as you help him to placate the enemies that remain. It’s there that he opts to stay, it’s there that you two are finally married.

“Here we are”, he holds your hands against his. You are dressed in a magnificent black silk gown with details in gold, hair completely lose with a tiara on top of it; whereas he’s dressed in black too, though in better ornaments. You smile at how your fingers intertwine. “At long last, my wife.”

Vader watches you with a roaming pride in his eyes, a reflection of the love that makes your y/c irises gleam.

“At long last, my husband.”

The two of you enjoy the first moment as husband and wife after a privy ceremony. It’s more about you as a whole than the new realities where you are the Emperor and Empress of planet Y/C.

“I have news to give you.” You tell him after a while. By the look he gives you, you can tell he knows, but even so you want to tell him. “I am carrying our first child.”

“By the Maker”, he chuckles as he puts you against his chest and spins you around. “These are wonderful news. How happy you make me, love.”

And you smile because you know. That is not how the story of you two ends, but how it begins. Never before he and you felt so happy…

[spaghettificationandpretzels]

Viking Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Smut 💦 Angst 😨 Fluff ❤ Violence 🔪 Gore/Medical 🤢 Triggering material 🚩

Any smut fics will be marked per Tumblr's community labels, you will need them turned to show to see them.

Ivar the Boneless

You and Ivar spend the night under the stars

Far Away Stars 💦❤ Part 2 💦❤

****

You're a librarian who stumbles upon a book that gives you a window into the past, but when a door is opened you can't control what comes through it.

This Life and the Next ❤❤

****

Rest Your Weary Hands

Queen Aslaug walks into your little Healers store with one request, help her son. Said to be blessed by the gods, you find your life becoming more and more intertwined with the young prince as you do your best to ease his pain. It will soon be apparent that outside forces have other ideas.

Masterlist

****

NSFW Alphabet Viking Ivar 💦💦❤

****

Ivar the Boneless SFW Alphabet Prompt Masterlist

Mini fic of the letters of the SWF alphabet.

Ubbe Ragnarsson

NSFW Alphabet 💦💦❤❤

Hvitserk Ragnarsson

After years of study and effort, you finally secure your dream job, as one of the head curators at the best museum in New York. After inheriting a huge brownstone you're looking for a roommate when your best friend Ubbe comes up with a suggestion, his younger brother Hvitserk. Better yet, you're a food historian and he's a three Michelin star chef.

A Taste of Heaven Masterlist

Ragnar Lothbrok

Ragnar sees you from far away on a raid. It's love at first sight, and now he has to have you.

Little doe 💦❤

[golddaggers]

they strike to kill, and you know i will

pairing: king!ubbe x reader. ubbe x margrethe (mentioned)

warnings: nsfw!! it contains descriptions of a fight, blood, and injuries. oral sex (fem receiving), fingering, and plain sex lmao. and ubbe. he's a warning on his own.

a/n: welp. i guess i write for vikings too now. tbh ubbe was the easiest to write for because he reminds me a lot of thor. if you like it, please give it a like and a reblog. thanks.

word count: 4k+

xx

It made your blood boil.

From the moment you arrived at Kattegat, people whispered about her. They told the many tales of how Margrethe had lied with all of Ragnar Lothbrok’s sons. At first, you paid no mind to it. How people spend their nights is none of your business. Much less who they spend their nights with. However, as time progressed, you cultivated a dislike towards her, not out of jealousy, no. You hated her fake innocent act. You hated how she’d play coy if it meant she would get the things she wanted.

That was how she married Ubbe. A short-lived marriage that ended in burning flames, you knew men like him weren’t as keen to share as they seemed, and the rumours were terrible, but they were all true. When it was all said and done, and your arms were the refuge he sought, you saw the heartbreak beneath the blue eyes you’d grown to adore. Perhaps that was when the distaste became wrath.

Months later, in the dead of night, you married him. No one besides Hvitserk knew about it. And you kept it a secret for as long as you could, but when the pregnant bump showed, he decided he wouldn’t let people call you anything other than the wife of a king. You saw the anger in her eyes when he announced not only the marriage but his firstborn.

When the whispers started, you did your best to brush it off. Ubbe would cradle you between his arms at night, saying that it didn’t matter because you both knew the truth. You both knew about how everything came to be. No foul play had happened. You didn’t “steal” him from anyone. You didn’t even think about it before. Yes, you found him handsome, but who didn’t? Things just happened. You fell in love. No secrets, no betrayal.

So when you heard her, all consumed by the several glasses of wine she had during the feast, saying you had come in between her and her husband, you’ve had enough. If Margrethe wants to be a filthy liar, she’ll be treated like a filthy liar.

You grab her by the hair. She’s so engrossed in her conversation with the other maidens that she doesn’t realise until she’s being dragged across the hall. There’s screaming, and people, your people, look astonished. Their queen, their pregnant queen, started a fight in the middle of the celebration. The celebration of a successful return of their king from a raid.

“Stop, stop!” Margrethe screamed, struggling to break free from her grasp. “Are you insane?”

“No, I am not insane,” Your voice comes out much more like a snarl, the anger seeping through it, cutting it like a knife. “But you seem to be.”

“What have I ever done to you, madwoman?”

Hvitserk watched them with a smirk plastered across his face, arms crossed, and so did Ivar. They could intervene, but they wouldn’t. It was too much fun to spoil it too soon. Instead, the two brothers sat back to enjoy, sipping their full ale cups. Ubbe wasn’t there to split them up either. He’d left a few minutes before, Bjorn urging him for an important talk regarding the follow-up of their mission.

“For one, you speak lies of your queen... That’s treason,” You sit on top of her, pinning her down to the ground. She was no fighter, never was, so you don't see her as a threat, despite your state. If you so wanted, you could’ve killed her already. You could've knifed her until she was all but a dead blob on the ground. Blood spattered across your face. “Is it jealousy? That I am the one who’s giving him what he wants? What he deserves? That I own this. All of it. And not you. Or are you just a petty whore?”

She groans, in pure anger, succeeding to get one slap to your face in the consistent squirming to free herself from your iron grip. A laugh spills from your lips, the slap stinging on your cheek. Everyone is still, watching the scene unfold.

“Feisty,” You end up saying, tipping forward, your faces mere inches apart. “Apologise to me.”

“I will do no such thing,” She spat. “You husband-stealing wench.”

A sneer paints your gracious face before you first strike her. Your fist meets the soft cartilage of her nose with a thud, blood dripping down like a broken faucet. It smears across your cheeks, and her eyes flutter shut for a few seconds. You can hear Ivar laughing, but the others remain silent, fearful of what you would do next.

You watch her as she regains her consciousness.

“My brother in law,” It’s all mockery in your tone. “Well, he didn’t kill you when he had the chance to do so… You will not be this lucky tonight.”

“You cannot kill me,” Although she tries to sound sure, you can taste her fear on the tip of your tongue, and it makes your smile grow bigger. “You cannot, madwoman.”

“Hmm,” Your hand wraps around her frail neck, and you squeeze it, strong enough that she gasps for air when you release it. “You don’t get to tell me what to do.”

Another hit strikes, this time on her jaw. Then, as if to let her think you would walk away from the fight, you stand up. The emerald green dress you wore just for the occasion had tiny little red specks all over its collar, a little frustrated sigh slips. Another one ruined. This time, however, it made you happy.

Margrethe stood on her feet as well, swaying, still dizzy from the two strong blows. Blood was still running down, all the way to her neck. It brought a rush that you hadn’t felt in the last few months. You missed fighting, missed the thrill of slaying someone. Nothing quite compares to it.

“Fight me.”

“Why would I do such a thing?” She stares at you, all firm, and wipes away the drying blood. “You would kill me.”

“I know I will, but I want you to say it. Fight me.”

“No.”

You laugh, all delighted. It amuses you that she thinks she has any bit of liberty to decide whether she can say ‘yes’ or ‘no’ to you. She turns away, in weak steps to the exit, but before she can leave, you grab her again by the hair, and she loses balance for a moment, though still, she stands. In your right boot, rests a knife. A dagger that had been given to you by your father. It granted you countless revenge. It certainly would be resourceful now.

In battle, focus and strategy are far more valuable than fighting skills. Your parents raised you to be one cunning bitch. It took by surprise that you failed to anticipate she’d try and hit you, which she did, splitting the skin of your cheek open. She lunches again, and you evade her, seizing her wrist, pulling it behind her back. The silver knife on her hand, a butter knife, glistened when she plunged it into your arm.

Hvitserk locks eyes with you, tilting his head to the side, then he smiles. It'd be demeaning to offer his help now. You pull it out, tossing it on the ground. Margrethe looks at the damage with pride as if she has managed to defeat the greatest shieldmaiden Lagertha had trained. With your back facing her, you grab the golden dagger.

“Don’t have it in you anymore, queen?”

The stab would be the final blow, you decide. So when you turn, you strike a punch. Then a kick on her stomach. When she collapses, you don’t stop kicking, drawing more blood. That blonde devil had thick skin, after all. Her screams were bone-chilling on each assault.

And you would have finished her. You had your knife in hand, pressed to the skin of her neck, a thin cut made.

A deep voice rumbles out from behind you, and soon a set of arms cage you in a tight embrace, unable to do anything. Unable to cause any more damage.

“Aw brother,” Ivar complains, clicking his tongue. “This was just getting interesting, why spoil the fun?”

“What the fuck is going on?”

“Ubbe, put me down,” He’s still holding you tight, arms protectively around your tummy. “Put me down so I can kill her.”

“You’re bleeding.”

“So fucking what? Let me finish her. You can take me home then.”

“No, this has gone on long enough. Yrsa, please take Margrethe to the healer. Brothers, I will have a serious talk with you later, and you,” Ubbe squeezes you further into his arms, you’re still squirming, but whereas Margrethe had a feeble stand against you, he was much stronger. Any other circumstance, you would’ve been able to take him on, but he had you trapped. “I will be dealing with you. All of you, leave. Now.”

People scamper out as if their lives depended on it. Yrsa and another carried the limp, unconscious body left undone on the ground to the healer’s hut, and his brothers gave Ubbe one last glace before escorting them there. While Hvitserk seemed somewhat apologetic he’d let it go too far, Ivar was genuinely upset he did get to watch someone get butchered.

You grunted, attempting one more time to slide from his arms. The fur fastened around his shoulders got your blood on it, the cut still gushing blood. There was also warmth under your eye, a typical sign of an injury that’d swell.

“Stop it,” He ordered, lifting you in his arms, paying no mind to your hits on his chest. “Bunny, stop it.”

“Don’t ‘bunny’ me, let me down, and let me go there and kill her,” You complain, he still walks towards your bedroom, ignoring everything. “I swear to the Gods I will kill you, Ubbe, let me down.”

“Will you just be quiet, woman?” His lips brush yours for a moment, you’re left bewildered. “You’re with child. You shouldn’t be thinking about killing anyone.”

“Our son is okay, but that whore of yours won’t be if you just let me fucking down.”

Light glows orange from the lit candles when he opens the door to your bedroom with a kick. He sets you down on the soft mattress, then goes back to lock the door. You let out a huff. Frustration mixed with the dull pain of your wounds made you tired.

Ubbe comes back with a bowl of water and a rag. In a mellow voice, he asks you to turn to your side, so he can undo the laces of your dress. Momentarily, you allow yourself to be coddled, his deft hands taking the stained garment off, hurling it back. The shedding of layers makes you tremble. A cold gush of air prickles goosebumps on your naked skin.

It stings when he presses the damp cloth to the gash on your shoulder, so you hiss, clenching your teeth. The rough pads of his fingers touch your face. He rustles that you’re okay, that it’s a minor bruise, “you’ve had worse”. You welcome the wet on your face when he nurses the bruise on your cheek.

The minutes tick by. You grow silent, contemplating his focused features as he tends to you, wiping away every trace of blood. His blue eyes flicker with concern, but Ubbe doesn’t say anything. Rather, he busies himself with finishing the bandaging, fastening it tight, so the bleeding ceases.

Sleep lulls you, as the sweetness of a berry lulls a child, and you drowse off, eyelids heavy. The feast, the fight, the weight of your baby growing inside you, it all got the best of you. Perhaps you should’ve thought it through.

Ubbe watches you, his rough hand rubbing the skin of your back. He’s aware of your strength, but like this, bare and half-asleep, he feels your vulnerability. It marks a grave failure for him. His responsibility is to protect her, guard her, not to patch up her wounds from a preventable quarrel.

You grunt when he rolls you onto your back, settling between your legs. A warmth, that springs from the very core of his body, envelops you, brings you to a vague sense of reality. Only when he leans to kiss your parted lips do you jolt awake, electricity rushing within your body.

“What were you thinking, bunny?” It’s a honeyed question, doesn’t even feel like he’s judging you for picking an unnecessary fight. “You could’ve hurt yourself.”

“Hmm, you think I can’t handle her?”

“I think you just might be crazy,” His laugh is hoarse. He pushes his face to the crook of your neck, nipping at the delicate skin. “But what happened?”

“She keeps telling people I stole you,” You look away, the tip of his nose digging on the hollow of your neck. “I don’t want our child to grow surrounded by these slanders, these lies.”

With an understanding rumble, Ubbe sinks lower, his mouth exploring the expanse of your chest, leaving behind sloppy wet kisses, and marks that would heighten the curiosity of others. He worships your swelled breasts, burying his face between them, the prick of his grown-out beard enticing. It makes your nipples hard, a moan escaping.

He laughs against you, a deep sound that makes you go slick, your heartbeat stronger in the middle of your thighs.

Lying on his belly, his hands cup each side of your stomach. Five months had it rather enlarged. You were confident your son would be one big baby. Your hands cover his, a tenderness in your chest that makes tears well up in your eyes.

“I thought of a name,” Ubbe says in secrecy, nosing the extended skin, smiling when the baby kicks. “For our son.”

“Hmm?”

“Torgny,” It’s almost muffled, you feel him pressing his lips to the lower of your belly. “Stórr Torgny, minn sonr.”

“If he’s anything like his father, he will be loud,” You joke, your hands leaving his own and going to his face. Ubbe rests his chin on the top of your tummy, a blue-eyed glare so fierce it sends chills down your spine. “Have I lied, my king?”

“No,” His gaze is locked with yours. “I suppose you have not, minn Dróttning.”

It feels like you’re starting to burn from your insides out. He goes all the way down, spreading your legs further open, your heels digging into his back. Ubbe hasn’t shed a single piece of his clothing, while you are undone for him, not a single secret left covered.

“Don’t,” You whisper, fragile.

“What?”

It’s stuttered, so low you have no idea if he heard you, “Don’t think a fuck will make me less angry.”

A smirk shapes his lips up when he finds your glistening cunt, the flat of his tongue sending you into a frenzied state of mind. It’s heaven-like when he decides to waste his breath between your thighs, tasting you until you’re spent. Until you’re shaking and rattling and crying out for him.

One finger slips in, just halfway, your walls welcoming it with a tight squeeze. His name falls from your lips in a tired moan, and you fist the bedsheets in a desperate need to ground yourself from the building height.

There’s something about how big he is compared to you, the broad of his shoulders making way as he feasts on you. Spit trickles, you feel it drip down, warm and dirty. Ubbe grips the base of your thighs, forcing you to his face, his nose digging into your mound.

Your moans grow louder, his finger all the way now. Its stretch felt nice, sharp fingertip curling, rubbing a tender spot that made your back arch while a strangled sound slipped out, his name whimpered through gritted teeth. He smiled, nursing where you throbbed with desire, assaulting your cunt with everything he had, coaxing an orgasm that would fizzle all the weakness out.

“I’m close,” You mumble, your eyes snapped close and your head tossed back into the soft plush of a pillow. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop.”

It’s just the two of you at that moment. Everything else was neglected as old dusted book pages. Ubbe finds satisfaction in knowing he’s the one caring for you, watching the drop of your eyelids, the little moans, the squirming. His chest swells with contentment that he provides, he pleases. You are the centre of his universe, from the moment you opened your arms, from the moment you saw him, saw the truth behind the ocean-blue eyes, and the fake smiles.

When it comes, it warms the cold tips of your toes. You curl, and shake, and clasp your thighs around his face. It’s pleasure that relieves the tension gathered, wrings it, and spends it all. Your mind abandons you for a few moments, your arms falling to each side, Ubbe still very much working, still very much focused on guiding you through it, spreading it as long as he could, buried deep into you, to the point you were sure he wasn’t breathing.

He kisses his way back up to your lips, absent-minded, your legs flung open. All of your muscles caved in, your body lying limp, but you're in such a remarkable state of relaxation, your worries fled from the top of your brain, washing away. Fading. You can only think about him, about his deep voice, and the fierce eyes. He’s put a stupid smile all over your face.

“Have one more in you, bunny?” Ubbe nuzzles your cheek, his hands fumbling to pull down his breeches, bunching around the meat of his thick thighs. His unrestricted cock rest hard, hot, and heavy on your hip bone. “Hmm?”

“Y-yeah, gimme’ one more.”

You can feel him stroking himself once, then twice, before pushing inside, slow, but steady. It’d been a while since you last took him, and even though you were worked up, slicker than a streaming river, he had to ease in, inching himself until he was all in, filling you up.

There’s nothing quite like the connection you feel when Ubbe takes you like this, all spread open in your bed, his body covering yours.

Sweat makes his face gleam. You hook your arms around his neck, the tip of your nose brushing his, your lips touch for a fleeting moment, then he snaps his hips against yours, tearing an anguished cry from you, your entire body still way too sensitive. Still in the afterglow of a mind-blowing peak.

Each assault of his made your breasts wobble, and you watched him stare at them. If you would let him, he’d spend countless hours just playing with them. He’d pinch the nipples, suck on them, knead them. Gods, you were sure he’d walk around you sustaining the weight of them with his hands.

Ubbe brings one of your legs to wrap around his waist, going deeper than before, buried to the hilt in you. He snarls and grunts like an animal. Like a huge, wounded wolf. You cling to him, eyes fluttering between opened and closed. It’s too overwhelming.

The friction of his clothes against your bare skin ground you to the moment, but the pleasure encircling the sane part of your brain, it called for him and him only, so the entire world could be ending, you wouldn’t be able to tell.

“Cum for me, husband,” You urge him, clammy hands on his cheeks. “I want you to.”

He bites down on the crook of your neck, strong enough to leave a swollen bruise behind. A mark of his claim over you. Such as the red nail lines on his back from you scratching him in the lost sanity of being coaxed into pleasure.

Before he stutters and releases, you clench around him, trembling, sobbing. You feel it rip, a scream that would be certain to draw the attention of anyone close enough to listen to it. They wouldn’t know if you were being tortured or fucked. Ubbe pulls your hips to his one last time, gripping at your thigh, then groaning a guttural sound. You swear you’d cum again just by listening to him.

You feel him. His spend, rooted deep inside you, scorching hot. It fills and fills until he can’t anymore. He drops his body onto yours for a few seconds, his weight crushing you, and you wouldn’t mind if it hadn’t the weight of a child adding to that.

“I can’t breathe,” You joke, palming his chest, a tiny bit breathless. “Get off of me, wild bull.”

Ubbe laughs, rolling to the side but pulling you to lie your head on his arm, stroking the dishevelled braids that still adorned your hair. He thought you looked beautiful like that, all fucked out, gleaming like pure gold, basked in the afterglow of pleasure.

“I need to get up,” He says in distaste. “You didn’t even let me undress.”

“Don’t need you naked, just your cock out,” Your reply makes a smile creep on his face. To say he’s blissful would be an understatement. “But I can help if you want.”

“Can you even stand?”

You shove his chest, slipping from his warm embrace to sit up. His cum dribbles down and coats your inner thighs. Everything is starting to become real again, the bruises become sore. Especially the bite. That would last a few weeks on your skin.

He stands on his knees on the bed, then bends to kiss your shoulder.

“You’re okay, my love?”

“Mmhm,” Is all you can voice, actually doubting if you can stand up without swaying.

Ubbe gets out of bed, standing before you. When you look up, his blue eyes are pure tenderness, a hand stretched out for you to take it, which you do. You don’t trust your feet to handle your weight, you’re too relaxed.

“Come on, take it off,” He instructs, warm hands on your waist. “I’ll undo your braids next.”

“That sounds like a plan.”

You undo the leather straps that hold the cloak around his shoulders. It’s soft, and you take a moment to marvel at the rich feeling under your fingertips, then place it on the bed. His tunic comes next. You circle him, undoing the clasp that held his belt in place. It’s all leather, sturdy.

He enjoys doing his wife's bidding, and that includes letting you handle him like you can tackle the heaviness of him.

When the last fastener is loosened, he bends so you can pull his tunic off. You take a moment to wonder at him, the battle scars, the creases, the chest hair. Everything you missed in the couple of months he’d been away. His shoulders seemed broader, while his hips were leaner, muscles sharper. Ubbe looked stripped to his core form.

“What is it?” He tilts his head, a sly smirk on his lips.

“Nothing.”

The boots had been kicked off, and all there was left was the opened trousers. His cock out, still slick with your wetness. The image sends a pang to the heat of your cunt. Twice you had come, somehow it didn’t feel like enough. You wanted more of him. More, more, more.

His eyes never leave you as you kneel before him, shedding him to strict nakedness. Ubbe stands up at his full height, towering over you, a force that pulls you, that draws you in, like a tide. Your care bubbles in your chest. You never knew you could love someone so much. Be attracted so much to someone, neither. It runs deep under your skin. It makes you want to cry out.

You kiss the ridge of his hip before standing up to your feet.

“What will I do with you, bunny?”

“You gave me the nickname, that was for a reason.”

Laugh spills before he kisses you again.

The night promises to be long and fulfilling. Your anger had sipped away, fucked out of you, but Ubbe isn't done. If anything, he wants to make sure he'll fuck it out of your brain.

[bteezxyewriter12]

Vikings Masterlist

So I love the tv series Vikings. I watch it when it first came out in 2013. It ended in 2020 and I just binge watched the whole series again

And I was inspired

Some of my BTS and ATEEZ WIPs include characters and settings from this series. So I decided to write some fanfics with these characters

Hope you like them

💀-Heavy Themes- specified in fic warnings

🔥- Smut

💖- Love

💔- Angst/ Sadness

. His Shieldmaiden 🔥💔💖🙋🏻‍♀️

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Part 5

. Reunited 💀💔🙋🏻‍♀️

Coming Soon

Coming Soon

Coming Soon

Coming Soon

Coming Soon

[squirrelacorngliterfarts]

Blood 2. 34.

Everything Taglist: @gold-dragon-slayer @your-internet-granny

@darkwhisperswolf​ @youbloodymadgenius​ @blonddnamedhandz​ @thelastemzy​ @inforapound​ @supermassiveblackhope​ @captstefanbrandt​ @roonil-wxzlib​  @syreni-dea​ @cynthianokamaria​ @rosiebrosie @loliismutt@pinkisokay @heavenly1927​ @annekleyn​  @rose-02468​ @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch @moonie-flower101​ @xinyourdreamsx​

wanna start from the beginning? haven’t read the first part? start here!  Blood 1 Masterlist

warnings: slightly sexual 😏

the storm called for everyone to retreat to their tents for the night, tomorrow they would rejoice and celebrate the fact that they were all going home, no war, no bloodshed.

(Y/n) was smiling to herself as she readies for bed.

she runs the wet cloth over her face and neck, hands and arms, shivering with the tent flap opened behind her.

“ubbe, close the tent it is freezing”.

she turns and stops, staring at ivar who quickly shuts the tent flap, looking at her almost shyly.

“hello” he greets her softly, swallowing thickly, almost awkwardly standing just feet from her.

even after months, they both took in how different they looked.

they couldn’t help but think how beautiful the other looked.

“hello” she says back, almost finding it hard to speak.

he stands by the door, looking around at her belongings, her body scantily clad in her nightdress.

he takes the first step, moving closer, and her seeing this, takes the second step.

soon, they are face to face, her looking up at his tall stature, his blue eyes so intently staring into hers.

he brings his hand up, resting it on her cheek, the both of them sighing, closing their eyes as his forehead comes to lay against hers.

“i’ve missed you” she whispers, lip trembling, her hands run their way up from his stomach to his chest.

“i’ve missed you, (y/n)”.

her name on his lips is painful and sweet, so long she went without hearing his voice and having him so close.

but when he goes to lean in, she can’t help but remember the slave girl, the words he told her..................

she forgave him for the war that could have happened, but did she forgive him for what he had done to her?.

she doesn’t know.

she turns her head from him, and he’s left kissing her cheek.

which he does twice more before holding her against him.

it was tense, the feelings between them, but it was so good, so good to have him back.

“can i stay?” ivar asks, looking from her to the bed.

she remembers all the nights they shared growing up, her sneaking into her room late at night, laying with her when he was in pain, or when the storms outside were too much for both of them to bare.

she pauses,  not truly knowing what to say to him. but she can’t deny that she wanted him to.

“yes”.

she grabs his hand, moving toward the bed, sitting and watching as he takes off his braces.

once he settles, she lays down and opens her arms for him, so she can hold him like they used to.

he moves into her open embrace, resting his head on her chest, taking in her scent, running his hands along her skin, remembering each touch.

they’re both smiling softly at the feel of being in their arms again, and (Y/n) leans down, kissing his head.

“i’m glad you came back” she whispers, and ivar is silent, just humming with her words.

“the months i went without you were so hard, (Y/n)” ivar whispers, voice wavering, his fingers gripping her sides.

she presses both hands to his face, making him look up at her.

“i imagined you coming back to me, staying with me in york”.

she doesn’t know how to respond, she just leans in, running her nose against his.

“and now you don’t have to imagine it any longer, ivar”.

he nods, looking so deep into her eyes, melting in her embrace.

he then crawls up her body, hovering over her now.

she swallows thickly, blinking away from his gaze, not knowing what to say or do.

she’d never been stared at in such a way, never felt such a lustful lingering touch along her almost exposed skin.

“you are so beautiful” ivar murmurs, his fingers running over the top of her dress.

she places her palm over his, looking up at him with uncertain eyes, unable to form words over her loud beating heart.

the emotions building between them is too warm, causing her to sweat, her pulse most definitely visible pounding in her neck.

he leans down, kissing beside her mouth, her jaw, moving toward her neck.

she gasps lowly, feeling his soft mouth pressing the most sensual kisses to her flushed flesh.

“ivar” she breathes, unable to deny all the hot feelings rushing through her veins.

he then sucks on a spot on the column on her throat, she closes her eyes, breathing heavier, feeling his hand on her hip move lower.

she unconsciously opens her legs for him, her throat bared for him, her hands rounding his back.

“so beautiful like this” he says between kisses of her skin, his hand moving the skirt of her dress.

she bites her lip softly, her body on fire, the ache in her building, such feelings she’s never felt before.

when he pulls the skirt over her thigh, his hand massaging her leg, body moving even closer to hers, she stops.

her hand is on his, preventing him from going further, her heavy lids staring up at him, the both of them panting heavily.

she licks her lips, shaking her head at him.

it takes him a moment to gain his composure, closing his eyes, resting his head in the crook of her neck, hands moving from below her waist, to above, wrapping around her back.

the both of them calming down, ivars hair braided down his back, her fingers in his hair, trying to comprehend what had just happened.

“i love you” ivar whispers, the words falling into the empty, quiet room.

at first it almost feels foreign to say it back, but it’s almost like remembering an instinct.

“i love you, ivar”.

[claymoresword]

Fatal Attraction

Lagertha Lothbrok x Farmer Fem!Reader

Summary: After a long day of working on your farm, you have an accidental encounter with a gorgeous shield-maiden.

Wordcount: 2.1k

Warnings: smut, g!p reader, y/n could be transmasc, lust at first sight or whatever, y/n and lagertha are soulmates infact, porn no plot

Note: fairly certain no one's going to even read this silly thing but i've been rewatching vikings and something shifted.. that's all i have to say. (whenever there's a blonde milf trust claymoresword will be there)

gif cred: winnickdaily

You are forced to call it a day as you notice the sky dimming. Sundown is rapidly approaching and ypu recognize that it would not be productive to continue working through the night again.

Days at the farm have been long and tiring enough as it is while you prepare for winter.

You finally exit the stables after checking on the horses one last time. Slipping the hilt of your axe through your sword belt, you decide to head out into the forest to answer nature’s call once more before turning in for the night.

-

You relieve yourself upon a tree, subsequently clearing your throat whilst making a considerable amount of noise without much thought.

Once finished, you lace up your breeches in haste, anxious to return to the comfort and warmth of your farmhouse.

Then, a noise captures your attention, it is the crunching of leaves, a jarring snap of a twig just beside you.

Footsteps.

You reach for your axe, but before you can even attempt to retrieve it, the sensation of a pointed, cold object against the back of your neck causes you to freeze in place.

“Wait– don't harm me. I'm not here to cause trouble.” You declare in resignation, lifting your hands up as a gesture of surrender.

Today cannot be the day that you die.

“Who are you?” A woman's voice, edged and perilous, much like the blade that's being pressed up against your neck.

“I- I'm a farmer, I live just across the river.” You explain, and then, blessedly, you no longer feel the edged metal against your flesh.

You allow yourself a sigh of relief. However, just as suddenly, your breath hitches in your throat once more when you turn around to face the mystery woman– the most beautiful woman you have ever laid eyes on.

Clad in armour, she bears a sword like she was born to it. Evidently, she is a shield-maiden, the most captivating one you have ever seen.

“State your name.” The blonde haired goddess demands. Her expression is taut and fierce and she has yet to lower her sword, strangely enough, it only makes you want to smile, but you possess enough wit to fight the urge.

“Y/n. My name is y/n.” You state, breathless, incapable of concealing the look on your face.

She is captivating. Now that your eyes have met, you can hardly find the strength to look away.

The shield-maiden remains silent as she continues to observe you. Once satisfied, she finally sheaths her steel.

“What's a farmer like you doing in the middle of a forest? This place is dangerous, full of bandits looking for an easy target.” The goddess asks, eyeing you once more.

Her seemingly impenetrable demeanor only intrigues you further. You find yourself actively fighting the desire to step closer to the shield-maiden.

"It- the truth, it's humiliating." You mutter, chuckling slightly, finally averting your gaze.

"I came out here to take a piss, I don't like to do it infront of the animals.” You admit, and your heart sings as you catch a smile threatening to form upon the shield-maiden's lips.

Lagertha's eyebrows raise slightly with your confession but she forces an impartial stare.

"So.. you have chosen the most dangerous place in all of Hedeby to answer nature's call?" The shield-maiden asks, her tone sharp with judgment.

Her words don't graze you, in fact your grin only widens as you are filled with a stroke of confidence.

She is even more beautiful when she is trying not to smile at you.

“Are you going to kill me?” You ask boldly, and finally, it is the shield-maiden's turn to flush a light shade of pink. She bites her lip, focusing her attention on the ground for a moment.

“Tell me your name again.” She orders, and you catch her eyes, the colour of the ocean– you wonder what it would be like to get lost in them, to lose yourself in the depths of her.

You aim to find out.

“Y/n.” You repeat, finally inching closer, hypnotized.

The other woman fails to move, but she allows the proximity. A tantalizing smirk that pulls your gaze toward her lips once more.

"You know, y/n–" She begins, tilting her head gently to the side.

"You could have gone to take a piss in a bush near your farm. But you chose to go in the woods, alone, in danger, I wonder why..” The shield-maiden taunts.

You only shrug.

“Perhaps I enjoy the risk.” You claim in jest, taking another step. “What are you doing here all alone?” You redirect the question, and the other woman looks off into the distance for a beat.

“Hmm..” She hums, purposely taking ample time to conjure a response. Your bodies are now only an inch away from touching.

She enjoys this, leaving you wanting– like a pathetic, eager pup.

Finally, the other woman advances forward, you are close enough to smell the sweat on her skin.

A thrilling scent.

"I come out here to think, to clear my head, and–" She pauses to lean forward. "I also enjoy the risk.” The shield-maiden claims in a whisper, her lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

She is mocking you, and Gods do you enjoy it.

Your smile remains, as well as your stare upon her lips. “You never told me your name.”

“My name is Lagertha.” The shield-maiden answers, her hand leaves the hilt of her sword to carefully graze your chest, she traces the details on your tunic.

An action that takes you both by surprise, yet she fails to pull away, and you pray to Freya that she never does.

“Can I kiss you, Lagertha?” You ask. If this gorgeous woman before you aims to plunge her sword into you now, then so be it.

To your delight, Lagertha does nothing of the sort, instead, her hand clenched into a grip on your collar, she nods. “Kiss me.”

You regard her permission, leaning in to capture her lips for a passionate kiss. Subsequently pinning her up against the tree as she wraps her arms around the back of your neck.

Lagertha immediately parts her mouth wider, wanting your tongue. Once again you do not hesitate to do as she asks, your tongue meets her own, and she thanks you with a whimper and a slightly louder moan.

Your hand shifts further downwards to her rear, deliberately pulling her close until she is flush against your groin. You can already feel yourself growing painfully hard; kissing this woman you had just met mere moments ago.

“You are so beautiful..” You utter, earning another gasp of pleasure as your mouth finds Lagertha's neck.

“You are not so bad yourself.” She pants in return, pushing herself further against you. Her hand slips in between both your bodies, boldly palming your hardened cock over your breeches.

You poorly mask a moan with a strained chuckle, pulling away for a moment to look upon her flushed expression. Lagertha's mouth remains parted as she chases your lips. You grant her another deep kiss before separating once more to speak.

"Do you have a husband, Lagertha? Will he care that you are kissing strange women in the middle of the forest?" You remark with a certain playfulness, although secretly hoping she will admit that she is indeed unmarried.

Eventhough you knew that the chances of it are highly unlikely.

"I have no husband," Lagertha replies, her voice laced with desire as she pushes herself against your groin once more, well aware of how hard you had gotten for her.

Her answer is the sweetest there is– it is exactly what you want to hear. Yet, you don't believe her.

"A gorgeous woman such as yourself.. unwed?" You mutter skeptically before placing another open mouthed kiss against her throat. You swiftly begin sucking on the flesh, relishing in the desperate whimper you manage to pull from the shield-maiden.

Soon Lagertha finds strength enough to grip a fistful of your hair, tugging your head back so you are forced to look her in the eyes.

She appears delighted to watch you wince.

“My heart has not yet found its place.” The shield-maiden admits, and you accept it to be an earnest statement. Though the glimmer of doubt beneath her poised expression does not go unnoticed.

“Oh– then, perhaps..” You say, pausing to kiss her again.

“Your heart will find its place with me.” You declare brazenly, and it is met with a faint smile before Lagertha reacts with a feeble attempt to shove you away.

“You are incredibly arrogant..” She claims, and you kiss her neck again before leaving another deep bruise upon her milky white skin.

The shield maiden chokes out a moan as you repeated the action on another part of her neck.

“Presumptuous–” She tries to continue, but is ultimately overcome with pleasure as you move your mouth over a particularly tender spot.

“–ah, fuck.” Lagertha groans as you proceed to slip your hand underneath her bodice, soon your mouth finds the swell of her breasts.

“You are perfect.” You praise in retaliation to her insults.

Lagertha doesn't try to wound you with her words anymore, only guiding your face closer so she may kiss you again, hungry and anguished.

Now she is utterly lost within you– and you in turn are reduced to the simplest most vulnerable part of yourself.

There is nothing else; all you care to see, touch, and taste is her.

Lagertha eventually results in pulling you down onto the ground with her. Leaves rustling violently as you both fumbled to undress yourselves. You removed your sword belts, tossing your weapons aside. There is no time, you needed to have her now, and the shield-maiden wanted the same.

She hastily pulls down her breeches and smallclothes. Once they are off her body, she discards them heedlessly and without thought, while you do the exact same.

A grunt leaves you as Lagertha grasps the base of your shaft, she pumps the length of your cock, diligently guiding you closer.

In half a heartbeat you are sheathed inside of the other woman to the hilt. Lagertha moans aloud at the sensation of your large member impaling her. Her gasps of pleasure, bold enough to echo throughout the vast, open forest.

You begin a quick but steady pace with your thrusts, feeling every delicious inch of her cunt. With every movement of your hips, Lagertha squeezes desperately around your girth.

The feeling was utterly intoxicating, fucking her is what you intend to do; inside of her is where you intend to be for the rest of your life, if it was possible.

Your groans are continuously muffled in the crook of shield-maiden's neck as Lagertha's fingers dig into the flesh of your back. Her grip would no doubt have broken skin if it wasn't for the barrier provided by the fabric of your tunic.

Lagertha's noises of pleasure, in contrast, are unapologetic. She is whimpering and moaning with every thrust of your hips, her breathing shallow but loud.

If a bandit was indeed scouring the forest this evening, they are bound to stumble upon this display, and the thought excited you more than anything else.

“Oh, fuck, y/n– you are so good at that..” Lagertha manages just as you lean in to kiss her once again, you swallow her moans, tasting her.

“Gods– yes..” She says after your lips part.

Her hot breath against your ear, accompanied with the feeling of her warm and wet cunt clenching around your cock was overwhelming. You were nearing your peak already, far sooner than you had anticipated.

With a groan, you begin to pick up the pace. Although as it happens, Lagertha was much farther gone, it takes only one thrust, and then another for her to come completely undone. She comes hard around your cock like a wanton maiden, she screams out in ecstasy like a whore.

The sight of the shield-maiden writhing with pleasure underneath you was enough to coax you over the edge. You only manage a guttural noise as your entire body tenses, releasing thick spurts of warm seed inside of the other woman.

–

You have since climbed off the shield-maiden, Lagertha now laying beside you on a bed of dirt and dried leaves. A similar look of contentment highlights her delicate features as you both attempt to catch your breath.

Eventually, you turn to look at her properly. With an effort to make sure that you were definitely not dreaming, you reach out to gently brush a strand of her golden hair out of her face.

Lagertha glances at you with her bottom lip set in between her teeth, she is trying her hardest to conceal her grin.

“Come home with me.” You find yourself uttering, and the shield-maiden gazes at you in a similar manner.

It is not shock, she is only trying to decipher you in return.

“I would like that.” Lagertha simply replies, she lets herself smile then, her calloused yet tender hand upon your cheek.

[idea-garden]

oneshot #10 - unguarded moments

IVAR/OC

Written by @idea-garden

SMUT / 18+ / public sex / cheating / wedding / rough sex / love confessions

1,376 words

A newly-married Ivar confesses his feelings to a former lover, present coworker--at his own wedding reception.

A/N: I’m new to writing for the Vikings fandom! I hope to write more!

If you like this like it, reblog it, and follow me!

This is trash.

“This is really nice,” Aethelred whispered in Sinead’s ear.

His lips pressed against her earlobe, involuntarily making her blush. Together, they scanned the venue of Sinead’s ex-boyfriend’s wedding reception.

It was a beautiful event--the wedding--seeing Ivar gaze into the eyes of his lover with a sort of purity she hadn’t seen in a while. Freydis was a lucky girl, she supposed.

As they looked around the grand ballroom of one of the Lothbrok Group’s many hotels, Sinead’s eyes met with the groom.

He looked damn good in his tux. A glass of champagne in his hand, he took a swig as Aethelred’s arms snaked around her waist. She could see his telltale jaw clench and eye twitch from across the room. He was always so easy to read. Sitting next to his brand new wife, as the center of attention, he was still pissed he couldn’t play with Sinead like a toy.

A light chuckle passed her lips before she looked away, ready to engage other guests. Hands interlocked, Sinead and Aethelred walked around looking for their seats.

“I still can’t believe he invited you,” Aethelred offered as they weaved through tables with no success.

“It’s just a courtesy since we work together. I don’t think he expected I’d come though.”

Stopping along the way, Sinead greeted Ivar’s brothers, Bjorn, Ubbe, Hvitserk, and Sigurd. Handsome did run in the family, after all.

Quickly, however, she was intercepted by Ivar’s parents, Aslaug and Ragnar, sitting uncomfortably under Lagertha, Harald, and Astrid.

Aslaug’s eyes brightened, falling on Sinead, “I’m so happy you were able to make it!”

“Athelred, is it?”

He nodded with a big, innocent grin.

“Would you be a dear and get us some champagne?”

“Of course!”

She waited for him to get out of earshot, before gripping Sinead’s shoulders. 

“He’s throwing his life away.” Ragnar rolled his eyes. This was the sixth person to whom she’d said that in the last hour.

“He’s just getting us drinks?”

“Not him, Ivar. My brilliant son is throwing his life away.”

Aslaug looked exasperated by the fact that Sinead seemed mostly unfazed.

“Do you know he doesn’t even have a prenup?”

“He’s a grown man, Aslaug.”

“At least I saw him having a future when he was with you. I don’t know her background.”

She found herself quite surprised, as Aslaug was never openly pro-Sinead. 

“That doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong there. Besides, if there’s one thing I know, it’s that Ivar will never let anyone get the best of him.”

Sinead must’ve been wearing pheromones mixed with her perfume, because Athelred and Ivar flanked her on both sides. Her date distributed the drinks and closed the space between himself and Sinead.

“There’s my favorite woman!” Ivar pecked his mother on the cheek, who looked like she needed something much stronger than champagne to get through this event. 

“Oh Sinead, I didn’t see you there! You look lovely. Thank you for coming.”

God, he was so fake sometimes.

“Thank you for having me on such a special occasion.”

His eyes roamed over her rose gold dress, showing a healthy amount of her thigh and accenting her brown skin.

“While it’s on my mind, could I speak with you about the resort groundbreaking in Amman?”

“It’s your wedding day! Don’t be like your father and leave your wife alone for business!” Aslaug swatted his shoulder, giving him the first genuine smile he’d seen that day.

“It’ll only take a second, I promise. The papers are just in the conference room.”

Sinead nodded, whispering to Athelred she’d be back soon.

“Bring her back to me quickly,” baring his teeth in a goofy, sweet smile, which only made Ivar want to knock his teeth out.

--

Ivar led Sinead out of the ballroom, but not without his bride noticing.

They rounded a corner, opposite the conference room, entering a private suite.

“Ivar, what is this? What could you possibly have to say about Amman? We’re set to--”

“Why did you bring that gangly fucker to my wedding?”

“I’m not doing this with you.” Sinead walked towards the door, only to have him block her way.

“He had his hands all over you. You’re lucky I didn’t kick his ass in front of everyone.”

“At your wedding reception? In front of your new wife? You’re crazy.”

“You make me that way.” His hands slid over her bare shoulders, turning her body away from him.

He peppered her mocha skin with gentle kisses, trailing down her neck and over her clavicle. Barely audible whimpers escaped her, making her lover gloat internally.

Ivar captured Sinead lips in a deep kiss, fingers busy with undressing her. 

Dress halfway down her body, Sinead broke away from him. “I can’t go down this road with you again, Ivar. Shit!”

“Yes, you can, Sinead.”

She shook her head in the negative.

“Tell me who fucks you better.” Ivar was dead serious, eyes darkening and narrowing in her direction.

“Better yet, since I know you’ll lie, tell me if you miss the way I dick you deep?” Her mouth dried, while the moisture in other areas increased.

Ivar brought her in front of the full-length mirror, swatting Sinead’s hands away from her open dress. She watched it fall to the floor. She felt helpless. She wanted him. Badly. Fuck.

His fingers gently massaged her clit through her underwear, Ivar still rattling off in her ear while they watched her weak resolve disintegrate.

“Do you miss the way I used to make you scream, until you couldn’t take it anymore?”

Sinead nodded breathlessly.

“That’s why you want me to keep fucking you, not him. After I make you cum, I want you to break up with him.”

She shook her head, expression filled with shame.

“Don’t you miss squirting and calling me Daddy, baby girl?”

“You’re such a dick. I hate you.”

“Well, hate me on your hands and knees, baby.”

Sinead glanced at her reflection, then his, before she descended. She lifted her ass higher than her head, eager to offer herself up to him.

He slapped her butt, watching that jiggle he missed so much. It didn’t take long for him to wriggle his length out of his pants and pull her panties to the side. He tapped his heavy member on her butt, before sliding inside her. 

They both sighed in satisfaction as they settled into each other. Gradually picking up the pace, Ivar developed a good rhythm for her to synchronize her own movements.

Her arms were close to getting burns from the power of Ivar’s thrusts, while she laid against the hotel carpet. Sinead’s voice felt like it was stuck in her throat as he dug into her with no abandon.

She left her body to his complete mercy, feeling a wave of relief she hadn’t felt in a long time.

Ivar pulled her up by her long, dark strands, long enough to get his hand around her throat. She had avoided it while holding herself up on her hands and arms, but now she had to look at herself. See herself being little more than a sentient fleshlight for Ivar. The worst part was, she didn’t mind it. It felt too good. He felt too good.

“See? I remember how much you like a pair of hands around your throat.”

Sinead felt herself tightening around Ivar, the sensations growing to be too much. She didn’t realize how the entire wedding party couldn’t hear them howling and grinding.

Letting her neck go, Ivar pinched and toyed with her engorged nipples. She squealed as his rough hands pawed over her breasts.

Trapped in his embrace, Sinead bucked wildly as her orgasm began. Her hips met his thrust as he continued to impale her. She escaped into a hazy, dream-like headspace. She felt warm and fuzzy, blissfully ensnared in Ivar’s grip. Within seconds, he grunted out his release, allowing himself to fill her with his appreciation.

“Damn, I’ve missed you, Sinead.”

“I think I… I think I love you, Sinead.” 

He hadn’t even pulled out of her, let alone given her the appropriate amount of time to spring that kind of information on her.

--

Before she could respond, they both heard the door to the room slam shut.

[it-was-all-a-beautiful-dream]

Chariot Truths

Ivar the Boneless x Reader 

Warnings: swearing?

There was nothing left for you in Kattegat now they had gone to war in England. The Lothbrok boys had left you behind their sweet sweet y/n. War was the only thing that had crossed their minds and so they left. 

You had always relied on the boys to keep you safe. Your father was one of Ragnar’s closest friends but had died before you really got to know him. You had wanted to learn to fight since you were a little girl but the sons of Ragnar wouldn't let you. Their answer always the same when you protested. “Why would you need to learn to fight when you have us.” Ivar was the worst for it, his possessiveness often had people running scared when it came to you. Everyone knew you were off limits. You could never scold him for it, he didn't seem to know he was doing it half of the time and you didn't mind. You were in love with Ivar. Had been from an early age, so it didn't bother you. 

So it had made you pissed when they had left. Lagertha promised to look after you while they were away but it wasn't the same. That’s why the day they had first left for England, was the day you asked Lagertha to train you as a Shield Maiden, and she had happily accepted, for she had always thought of you as her own daughter, you reminded her so much of Gyda.

Stripping from your delicate gown, you changed into viking armour suitable for any great warrior. Today was the day you would be joining the war in England. It had taken a lot of persuasion when you spoke to Lagertha, but in the end she agreed, she believed after your training, you were ready. You had said your goodbyes and were on the boat with other men and women setting sail for your destination. You couldn't help but wonder what the boys would think, especially Ivar. Ubbe probably wouldn't approve, he’d be shocked as he thought of you as a little sister. Hvitserk would probably be impressed, you were best friends, and had always spoke to him about wanting to fight. He had told you to follow your dreams but they were always shot down by the others. Sigurd, you didn't know what Sigurd would think, honestly, you weren't as close as you were with the other brothers, he spent most of his time wrapped up in his own world or bullying Ivar. It made you dislike him so you didn't care what he thought. Ivar was really the only one who mattered and you couldn't wait to see him. 

-Ivars POV- 

Ivar couldn't help but feel anger at the moment. The main reason for his constant anger was because he had left you behind in Kattegat. It wasn't like he really had a choice, it was that or he took you with him and he wasn't stupid enough to put the woman he secretly loved in danger. He couldn't help but think of you all the time, wondering what you were doing, how you were living over there without the son of Ragnar. He sighed, he would give anything to see you right now., it was selfish, but true. Some part of him wished he had taken you with him but you were to fragile. He couldn't have any distraction if he were to lead the great army. 

Ivar looked up as a horn sounded in the distance, breaking him away from his thoughts. Ah, reinforcements had arrived. Time to welcome the rest of the great army. 

-Y/N POV- 

You grinned like a cheshire cat when your boots made a thud as you hopped off the boat. So, this is England. You looked around then swung your bow over you shoulder and made your way to the great army’s camp. 

You had just reached the outskirts of the large camp when you were tackled by a strong figure. You quickly turned with knife in hand to gut your assailant but were restrained and then heard two lots of laughing that sounded oh so familiar. Hvitserk and Ubbe. You turned around and grinned at the two men jumping into their open arms. Hvitserk looked thrilled and so did Ubbe…. maybe not as much.. but he was still happy. 

“Y/N, what in Oden’s name are you doing in England?!” Ubbe picked you up and swung you around while you laughed at the two boys reactions. When he put you down, you filled them in, told them everything about your training with Lagertha and that it was only fair you got to come and fight too. They were impressed, who would have thought little old Y/N would change into a fierce Shield Maiden. “Wait until Ivar sees you Y/N.” Hvitserk smirked as he noticed you shiver. He knew all about your love for Ivar, after all you were best friends, you spoke about everything to each other, and as much as you were now a fierce Shield Maiden, you couldn't help the blush that rose up your cheeks. 

Hvitserk and Ubbe had led you to the centre of the camp. Ivar. You could hear his booming authoritative voice before you could see him and your heart started pounding. You lifted the hood you wore on your black cloak and pulled it over your head as a sort of cover. You didn't know if you were ready for him to see you yet. You were scared of what he would think. He knew you as the girl who wore pink floaty dresses, not a badass Shield Maiden who wore leather and chains, carrying deadly weapons. 

Before you could actually find Ivar, you heard a familiar laugh. Floki. You turned quickly dropping your hood. He was almost like a father to you. With your father dying when you were so young, Floki had made it his mission along with the sons of Ragnar to keep you safe. You grinned up at him, and he laughed again and pushed a couple of strands of hair from your face. “My little Y/N, what has brought you to England at a time like this. The gods have created a new path for you I see. Oh and wait until Ivar sees what the Gods have in store for him, yes, yes, lets see.” He looked up at the sky and laughed once more. Oh it was good to have your crazy Floki back. “Come, let’s find Ivar, he will be thrilled to see you. He has so much to tell you!” 

It didn't take you long. Floki had spotted him first and you could hear him talking to Ivar. “I have a surprise for you Ivar.” You were trying to push your way through the crowd and then suddenly it parted and there you were, stood face to face with a confused looking Ivar. He hadn't noticed you really yet, but when you took down your hood, you heard him gasp. You grinned up at him. 

“Hi Ivar.” You grinned even wider as he stared at you with an open mouth. He pushed himself off his chair and used his newly constructed crutch to walk up to you. Butterflies were ever present in your stomach as you nervously waited for his reaction. He finally stopped right in front of you. You had to stretch your neck up just to look at his handsome face and before you could say anything he used his free arm to pull you into his chest. 

“I’ve missed you so much Y/N, I cant believe you're here. Is it really you?” He kissed the top of your head and then pushed you back to take a better look. “Look at you, a Shield Maiden, it suits you.” You blushed as he winked at you and gave you a toothy smile. “I have so much to tell you. I have something to show you, you will love it!” You couldn't help but stare at him. You had missed him so much. Your Ivar. You felt at peace again knowing you were so close to him. It made you so happy to see him excited about something. You hated it when he was so serious all the time, you liked carefree Ivar. 

You let him lead you into the woods, Floki came with you both so he could carry Ivar. He was too impatient to crawl. Before you could get to your final destination, Floki put Ivar down and disappeared, leaving the both of you alone. He started crawling and you followed him, only to come face to face with the most wonderful thing you'd ever seen. Floki the boat builder has outdone himself this time. You couldn't help but tear up as you looked at Ivar interacting with the Chariot. It was his, something for him that could act as his legs in battle and you couldn't be happier for him. You walked over and sat on the side of it with him taking in all the little details and modifications that Floki had made. You turned your head to look at Ivar, and found he was already staring at you. You didn't even think about what you did next when you leaned up to kiss the man you'd loved since you could remember. He was shocked at first but then he kissed you back, roughly, urgently, like he couldn't get enough. Like you were going to disappear. You broke away and just looked into each others eyes and then Ivar grinned. 

“And all this time I thought you liked Ubbe.”   

[its-all-or-nothing94]

Ravenblade - Part 3 // Ivar Lothbrok x OC

Summary: The battle against the saxon forces is about to occur, so Ivar wants to inspect the grounds. Liv and Ivar are having an intimate moment.

Warnings: Language, light smut

Pairing: Ivar x OC

Tags: @liebgotts-lovergirl

Liv watches the landscape passing to their left and right with an alert gaze. They are on their way to Wessex to bring King Ecbert to justice. Again and again, Liv feels the youngest Ragnar's son's look on her, but she tries to ignore it.

"He stares at you all the time," Sven whispers to her, and Liv looks to the other boat, where Ivar immediately averts his eyes. "His gaze is like that of an animal seeing its prey."

Liv looks at her most loyal companion. "Are you jealous, Sven?" she asks, amused, and he shakes his head.

"I'm not saying that… Just that somehow he seems a little off to me."

"So are we. Do you think my brother or Ubbe and Hvitserk trust us? Probably not," she says, steering the boat slightly to the left. "I know, my brother. He probably doesn't trust me as far as he can throw me. He knows what our motives usually are. But this time, it's different. It's something personal!"

Sven looks at Ivar again and then lets it go. Liv is right. Probably no one trusts them.

As night falls, Liv begins to sing to herself.

My mother told me Some day I would buy Galleys with good oars and Sails to distant shore

Stand up high on the prow Noble bark I steer Steady course for the havens Hew many foe-men Hew many foe-men

In the second verse, Sven joins in, and Liv looks at him with a grin. In the third verse, everyone joins in, and Liv gets goosebumps.

When the song dies down, and Liv only sings lightly to herself, her gaze wanders to the boat next to them, and she notices Ivar looking at her. She holds his gaze and then smiles.

When they finally dock, they continue on foot. Liv walks next to Hvitserk er and chats with him. He actually seems quite nice.

"Why are you helping us anyway? I thought you only fought for reward," he says suddenly, looking at Liv. "And Ragnar wasn't your father."

Liv smiles, but honestly, this time. "No, he wasn't. But I did know him. In the ten years you didn't see him, I saw him often. Did you know he was responsible for me ending up with the Ravenblade?" Hvitserk looks at her in surprise.

"How so?"

"Well, I grew up with Lagertha and my father. My father was not a good man. He beat mother, and he beat me too. Lagertha had lost her will when Ragnar left her for your mother. I probably have Bjorn to thank for that being the worst thing my father did to me."

Liv lifts her tunic a little, and Hvitserk recognizes a long scar on her side.

"Björn protected me, but anger was building up inside me. Anger at my father for being such an abusive person and anger at my mother for allowing him to do such things to me. All I ever heard was what a fierce shieldmaiden my mother was, but it didn't look like that. I have never forgiven her for that. So when Björn decided to go with Ragnar, I was even angrier. Angry at Björn. But Ragnar came to see me before he left. He promised me that when the time was right, I could leave Hedeby. And so it was… He had contacts with the Ravenblade, and they came for me when I was 12 years old."

Still amazed that Liv is revealing so much to him, he listens intently.

"And how did you come to be the leader?" Now Liv laughs again.

"The Ravenblade trained me. Of course, I had training with Lagertha before that, but what I learned from them is worlds apart. I honestly don't remember what it was exactly, but suddenly I was face-to-face with my mentor. He raised me and trained me. He was the leader before me, and now I had to fight him. I later learned that when the leader of the Ravenblade takes in a ward, that tradition wants you to fight your ward when the time comes. This is where you show whether you have trained them properly."

"And you killed him?"

"I'm here, aren't I? It's part of the test. When you kill someone you love, it destroys the last bit of empathy you have in you. So you become the perfect weapon. And the perfect leader."

"That sounds kind of… extreme."

"Maybe it is. That was three years ago," she says, shrugging her shoulders.

Hvitserk and Liv continue talking, and of course, Ivar watches his brother and the young warrior closely. A stab of jealousy hits him, and he squeezes his eyes shut as Björn stops them all.

One of their scouts comes riding towards them. He tells them that the great Saxon army is a day away from them, prompting Björn to set up camp here. But it seems Ivar has other plans.

"You can set up camp," he calls to his brothers, and Liv looks at him with interest. "I want to see the place where we fight."

"What are you talking about?" asks Björn, looking at his younger brother.

"They will expect us to fight in a certain way. Why should we do that? Why don't we plan to fight in a different way and surprise them?" he asks, and Liv likes his way of thinking.

Björn waves his brothers closer to Ivar's chariot, and Liv also stands next to it. None of the brothers seem to mind.

"Our warriors will not understand what is happening," Hvitserk reflects. "We fight with the shield wall. That's how we fight."

"But we have a bigger army now. And they have a bigger army, too, Hvitserk. They don't fight the same."

"It's too late to change that now," Sigurd interjects.

Liv takes a deep breath and listens intently to the brothers' conversation. They really can't work well together.

"Who are you to say such things? Shut your mouth!"

"We are brothers! Together!" Björn now says firmly. "Why do you want to change tactics?"

"Do you want to win, brother?" Ivar asks. He knows he has Björn with him. For a moment, the two look at each other. Then Ivar rolls his eyes. "Listen… Come with me, Björn. Let's survey the battlefield. Maybe it's better if we don't keep the battlefield on a plain but expand it to hills and a few miles further, and we need their landscape. They have only hills and forests."

The brothers all look eagerly at Björn. He has the last word.

"What do you say?"

"If it works, it's a good plan. If it doesn't, it's a bad plan."

A man brings Björn a horse and he sits up.

"What are you waiting for?" asks Björn, and then Liv steps onto the chariot.

"Me," she says casually and Ivar looks at her in surprise.

"What are you doing?" he asks and Liv raises an eyebrow.

"I'm coming with you."

"Liv…" says Björn warningly, but she just looks at her brother.

"What? Six eyes see more than four. Let me help." Björn takes a deep breath and then rides off, and Ivar follows him.

In the evening, Liv is sitting by the fire when Sven sits beside her. He holds out a cup to her, and she accepts it.

"Thank you," she says.

"What are we going to do after this? When we have killed this king and avenged the death of Ragnar Lothbrok?" he asks, and Liv shoves a piece of bread into her mouth.

"The thing we always do?" she asks him and he smiles at her.

"Fighting is all good, but I'm more the quiet fighter than the one on the battlefield."

Liv smiles and takes a sip of her mead. "You've done well for yourself, though."

Sven laughs too, but then Liv notices in the corner of her eye Ivar creeping towards his tent. She sits up and follows him with her gaze.

"Liv…" says Sven, but she gets up and follows Ragnar's son into his tent.

The latter is pulling himself up onto a chair and straightening his legs. When he catches sight of Liv, his eyes grow wide for a moment.

"I'm impressed," she then says and walks towards him. "You really have strong strategic thinking. You're smart. I like that," she says, brushing her blonde hair out of her face.

"Um… Thanks, I guess," Ivar replies, then fills two mugs with mead and holds one out to Liv. She accepts it and then sits down beside him.

"You are much smarter than your brothers…. At least when it comes to tactics. You should take advantage of that."

"I know… They always think straight. But at least Björn listens to me."

Liv takes another sip and looks Ivar in the eye again. Then she stands up and sits on his lap. She takes his face in her hands, and her grey eyes meet his piercing blue ones.

"They don't give you enough credit. You are worth much more than you might think, Ivar," she whispers to him. Then she leans down and kisses him. When she pulls away from him again, he looks at her in amazement.

"Why are you doing this?" he asks, and Liv smiles.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, this? You bring me affection, but I don't know why. You're an incredible woman. And I'm just a cripple."

"Don't say that. There's so much more to you. And I don't know what it is, but something about you draws me in."

Again Liv leans in and kisses him. A little more demanding this time. She strokes his muscular chest and shoulders. She runs her tongue over his lower lip, and he opens his mouth. Their tongues dance together, and Liv can't suppress a smile.

Then she runs her tongue along his stomach and down to his trousers. As if by reflex, Ivar grabs her wrists and stops her. Liv raises her eyebrows in surprise.

"We've been here before," she smirks, and Ivar slowly lets go of her wrists.

Then she stands up, unbuckles her belt, and lets it fall to the floor. Ivar follows her with his gaze as she walks towards the bed and pulls her tunic over her head. He sees her back, which is covered in tattoos and some scars to boot.

She is wearing a bandeau that covers her breasts and holds them in place. She sits down on his bed, covered with furs, and slides back a little. Then she beckons him to her with her index finger.

Ivar hesitates momentarily but then pushes himself off the chair and crawls to the bed. He pushes himself up with his arms and slides towards Liv. He examines her body, which is simply incredible.

She is muscular but also defined by all the training and fighting. He spots a long purple scar on her left side, briefly runs his fingers over it, and Liv flinches.

"What's that?" he whispers, and she looks down momentarily.

"An old memory," she only replies, probably not wanting to elaborate.

Then he looks into her eyes again and sinks into the grey eyes that look at him in the same way. He lies down beside her, and their faces are only inches apart.

"You are beautiful," he then breathes, and Liv smiles. Warmth rises in her, and she doesn't usually know such feelings.

She never thought a man could throw her off the track like Ivar. He strokes her stomach again and slides closer to kiss her again. The feeling is just incredible. Not like with Margrethe, but really good. Her lips are soft, and Ivar's desire grows with every kiss.

He caresses her soft skin and kisses her demandingly. He feels Liv unbutton his tunic and pulls it over his head. Briefly, she looks at him, and his upper body is just incredible. From all the years on his arms, muscles have naturally formed.

Then she strokes his belly with her cold fingertips as light as a feather, which makes him wince briefly, yet the son of Ragnar sees how Liv reacts to his body. He pulls her to him and kisses her. Then Liv turns them both and sits Ivar astride.

Her hands rest on his chest. Then she reaches behind her back, undoes the button holding the bandeau, and lets it fall. She is so perfect. It seems as if the gods had carved her themselves. Ivar doesn't let this go on for long, though. He turns her again and leans over her, stroking her cheek briefly.

"I want you, Liv. You have no idea how much I want you," he whispers, and she feels his breath on her face.

Liv closes her eyes in pleasure as Ivar explores her body with his hands, kissing her repeatedly. Ivar climbs over her half-naked body and starts kissing her all over, which earns him a satisfied moan from Liv. Then he unbuttons the button of her trousers and pulls them down so that the young woman is completely naked. He looks at her briefly and takes it all in before looking into her eyes.

Then she turns with Ivar again so that he is lying under her. Slowly Liv pulls down his trousers without breaking eye contact with Ivar. As she throws the trousers aside, she looks at his deformed legs, which makes Ivar visibly anxious. Then Liv looks him in the eye again and smiles.

"You're perfect just the way you are, Ivar," she whispers, and he pulls her to him again.

He kisses her gently at first, then more and more demanding. He turns them both around again, so he has the upper hand. Liv feels his hardness against her middle, and now she, too, becomes slightly nervous.

With slightly trembling lips, she looks at Ivar. It's not Liv's first time, but it's the first time it's even remotely meant anything, which makes her all the more nervous.

He winces briefly as she reaches down and takes his hardness in her hand. Ivar kisses her again, but the feeling of her hand down there is just overwhelming. When she has placed it that far, Liv looks at him approvingly, and he slides slowly but firmly into her.

A tentative moan comes from her; for Ivar, the feeling is simply outstanding. He can barely hold himself up, so he pulls back a little and then penetrates her again, but not so gently this time. Liv opens her mouth in surprise and then slaps him on the shoulder.

"Hey!" she says firmly and looks at him.

"Sorry," he mumbles, now softening again. Slowly, eyes always on Liv to stop immediately if he should hurt her again, Ivar starts moving again.

And in her eyes, he finds only approval. And lust. He can read that in her gaze, for her grey eyes are like a storm.

He braces himself right and left against her and penetrates a little deeper, and Liv closes her eyes with pleasure before moaning. She throws her head back, and Ivar moans her name softly. She is giving him so much now that she doesn't even notice.

Not only that, he is really having sex for the first time, and then with the woman he wants, but he can do it. Carefully he takes her ankle and puts her leg on his shoulder to penetrate even more profoundly, and Liv looks at him, surprised but not averse. Suddenly he notices her tightening around his member.

"Liv?" he asks sceptically, not sure what that means, but she still has her eyes closed.

"Just keep doing that," she breathes and he does as he's told. And then she moans loudly and tears her eyes open.

A wave of pleasure rolls over her, and she presses her fingernails into Ivar's back. Then she slumps a little and breathes heavily. He has done it. He has satisfied Liv.

Confidence grows in Ivar. Then he looks at the woman of his desire. She nods.

"Go on," she whispers, and Ivar doesn't have to be told twice.

Still careful not to hurt her, Ivar begins to move faster. Liv tries to help where she can, and he can feel her. A little later, his body also tenses, and he pours himself into her.

For a moment, only their heavy breathing can be heard. Then Ivar wipes the sweat from his forehead, pulls out of her but stays on top of her. He looks at her beautiful face from top to bottom. He notices that she is trembling and then sees that Liv has closed her eyes.

All the exertion and sex with him must have taken more out of her than she thought, so he reaches for the furs and spreads them over them both. When she opens her eyes again, she looks at him.

"That was… That was amazing," he says and Liv can't help but chuckle.

"Liv, I…" he begins, but before he can finish speaking, the tent entrance is opened, and Hvitserk and Ubbe come in.

"Ivar…", Hvitserk says, but then he notices that his brother seems busy. "I uh… Sorry," he says quickly and turns away, and Ubbe does the same.

Ivar pushes himself off Liv and lies down beside her. Liv quickly gets out of bed and puts on her tunic. It is long enough to cover everything essential. She picks up her boots and puts her trousers over her arm.

"It's all right. I'll leave you to discuss your things," she says quickly and Ubbe and Hvitserk turn back around. The young woman approaches Ivar once more, presses a passionate kiss to his lips and then leaves the tent. The two brothers look after her with open mouths.

"What do you want?" Ivar then asks, annoyed that they have driven Liv away.

[geeky-introvert]

Harald Fairhair It Was Always You Rise Bishop Heahmund Persuade Ragnar What if? Oleg Puppy Training Floki and Helga Hidden Bjorn Ironside First Time The Weekend . I . II

[purplecloaks]

Custom Made Masterlist

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7  Part 8  Part 9  Part 10 

Part 11  Part 12  Part 13  Part 14  Part 15  Part 16  Part 17  Part 18  Part 19

Part 20  Part 21  Part 22  Part 23  Part 24  Part 25  Part 26  Part 27  Part 28

Part 29  Part 30  Part 31  Part 32  Part 33  Part 34  Part 35  Part 36  Part 37

Part 38  Part 39  Part 40  Part 41  Part 42  Part 43  Part 44  Part 45  Part 46

Part 47  Part 48  Part 49  Part 50  Part 51  Part 52  Part 53  Part 54  Part 55

Part 56  Part 57  Part 58  Part 59  Part 60  Part 61  Part 62

Drabble 1

[fucktgisshitok-blog]

Who Are You Thinking About?

Warnings: Assisted masturbation, slight angst for a minute, smut

You were laying on your bed, bundled up in furs. Everyone was out in the dining hall enjoying dinner so you could lay there and wallow in your self pity. You felt cheap, used, disgusted with nobody but yourself. A slight rap at the door made you jump. “Who is there?” You asked, on high alert.

“Torvi.” A sweet voice replied. “Is it a bad time? I can come back later, I just thought I would bring you some salt pork before the men ate it all.”

“Thank you for your kindness, Torvi, but I am not hungry.” You replied. You wanted to be alone.

She opened the door and stepped through, shutting it behind her. She took in the sight of you. Face red and puffy. “What is it? Are you ill?” She asked, concern covering her face like a mask.

You could only laugh for a split second before tears started forming again. “No. I am not ill. I am just...no better than Margrethe.”

Torvi eyed you suspiciously. “What are you talking about?”

“I had sex with Ragnar. He paid me a silver ingot. I do not love him. I know he is married to Aslaug. Not to mention, Lagertha, one of my mentors and friend is in Kattegat to prepare for a raid. She still loves him. And I ask myself how I could do such a thing. If she found out…” You explained, not able to say anymore due to your voice breaking.

Torvi sighed and sat on the edge of your bed and began stroking your H/C hair. Even though you two were the same age, you felt as if she were motherly to you. “Lagertha understands how persuasive Ragnar can be, Y/N. She will not hold it against you. I promise.” She said.

You shook your head. “How can you be so sure?”

She stood up and opened the door, sweeping out of it like a goddess. You closed your eyes and covered the furs over your head. You wanted to disappear from Kattegat. Maybe you could stow away on one of the ships they were going to raid in and stay there. Tell the natives you were a thrall of Ragnar Lothbrok who had escaped, barely. That could work.

Another rap at the door made you roll your eyes. “Torvi, you do not have to knock.”

You heard your door creak open and shut. Footsteps walking to your bed. Finally the furs were jerked down. “Torvi sent me. She said that you needed to speak to me. Something of importance.” Lagertha said.

You shrunk down further in your bed and looked anywhere but at her face. “I had sex with Ragnar.” It came out a whisper.

Lagertha gave a small chuckle and came to sit beside you. “And how was it?” She asked, putting her hand on yours.

“Not what I expected. I feel like a whore. He even paid me like one.” You said, burying your face in your hands.

You felt Lagertha embrace you. “Are you worried that I am mad at you?” You nodded. “Well I am not. I have known Ragnar for many years. One of the things I have learned from him is that what Ragnar wants, Ragnar gets.” She explained. “Besides, I spoke to the Seer on your behalf and found out that you are to be married to one of Ragnar's sons.”

You looked up at her. “Do you honestly think that they will want me now? I fucked their father.”

She chuckled. “Who is going to tell them? The question is, which one do you want? Who is it that you think about the most?”

“I do not know. I never really thought about marrying any of them. Bjorn is married to Torvi. Ubbe, Hvitserk, and Sigurd all flock around Margrethe. And Ivar, well...Ivar...I do not see myself with him.”

Lagertha smirked and pulled the furs from your body. “I have an idea. You may think it is a bit crazy.”

You furrowed your brows and looked at her smirk that you knew meant she was up to something. “What?” You asked finally.

“Close your eyes.” She said. You hesitantly did so and you felt her hand dance up your thigh towards your core. Your eyes flew open in a nervous panic and she looked at you sweetly. “Close your eyes. I promise everything will be okay.” You did as you were told and tried to relax.

You felt her run over your nub with her thumb lightly and your breath hitched in your throat. “Keep them closed. Picture the man you wish was doing this.” She said, putting more pressure on you. You slowly let yourself feel the pleasure and let out soft moans. “Who are you thinking about?” She asked as she inserted two fingers into you. You started panting as she pumped and rubbed you closer to your release while images of the Ragnarssons flashed quickly in your head in the order they were born. Bjorn. Ubbe. Hvitserk. Sigurd. Ivar. Over and over until a flash of white exploded behind your lids and you yelled out the only name that made sense.

“What is his name?”

“UBBE!” You screamed at the top of your lungs.

Lagertha withdrew her hand from your dress and stood up. “Good girl. Now, I will be leaving. I am sure he heard you and will be in here to check on you.” She said, patting your leg and headed for the door.

@tephi101 @filthyshieldmaiden