#vikings smut

[starogeorgina]

Redemption

Warning: Swearing, smut, hints of violence

Pairing: Ivar × reader

1.01

“Ivar!”

“What?” He whines like a child before placing a soft kiss on your bare hip and pouting up at you, his lips still slightly red and swollen from kissing you so roughly. “I told you I wanted us to have a child of our own,” he states, pushing himself further down the bed so he can have a full view of your own puffy lips. Ivar had a fascination with watching his cum drip out of you. He would often try to push it back in with his fingers or clean you up with his tongue. “I want to see you around with my child, a creation of our love.”

“I know you do.” You let out a soft groan when his finger lightly brushes over your clit. “But I’m so sensitive, I just need a moment to…”

“You’ve spilled too much of my seed,” he says, ignoring what you previously said. “I’ll need to put more inside you if we wish for this to work.”

“Hmm… fuck!” You moan loudly as he places a strong hand on either side of your head before thrusting himself inside you for the third time that evening.

Fucking was one of your favourite things to do, but Ivar would push you to the point of exhaustion with how many orgasms he gave you. He always made sure you came at least once before fucking you into oblivion.

—

You nip at Ivar’s bare chest with your teeth, and he flinches slightly, causing you to giggle. Burying your face into his neck, you mumble, “How long will you be gone for?”

“I am unsure, but I will return to you,” he says, kissing the back of your knuckles, “to our family as a proud man, not as a cripple.”

Shuffling into a more comfortable position on your back, you let out a huff. You understood why Ivar needed to go to England with his father, but you still didn’t like it. Usually you remained close by his side, but being pregnant, you decided to stay behind in Kattegat, despite Ragnar asking you to join them personally. Queen Aslaug had a dream of her husband and son drowning because of a storm, but neither of them cared much for her warning, so you tried not to worry too much; you needed to believe Ivar would always find his way back to you. Letting out a deep sigh, your hand moves to cradle your ever-growing bump.

“My sweet, sweet Drifa, I can see the doubt in your eyes, but I assure you I will not die on this journey.”

“You better not; I’ll need you by my side when I deliver our child. I don’t want to do it alone.”

“You won’t be alone. If I’m not here, my brothers and mother will remain by your side.”

“I know,” you say, toying with strands of fur from the blanket covering your chest, “but they aren’t you.”

Ivar kisses the crown of your head, stroking your hair as you start to fall asleep. There was no possible way he could assure you he wouldn’t die, but he would try to comfort you the best he could. You’d grown up alongside the sons of Ragnar, with your mother and Aslaug being so close, so you’d known Ivar all your life. You had considered him your closest friend before any romantic relationship had developed between you, but the flames of desire had been burning ever since he killed a boy who tried to force himself on you.

It would absolutely break your heart if Ivar didn’t return home.

—

You opened your eyes, scanning the dimly lit room to see where the sound in the distance was coming from. You saw nothing but recognised the heavy breathing as your husband's, so you closed your eyes again. Leaning your head back, you try to enjoy the warmth surrounding your body as Ivar drags himself into the room. You had the slaves fill you with a bath as soon as you woke, scrubbing continuously to wash away the blood that stained your skin. Your thighs and groin were red and raw, but you continued to clean each time you saw the blood from your miscarriage reappear.

It seemed like the right decision at the time to remain in Kattegat, but you were there when the village came under attack and witnessed Lagertha killing Aslaug while her back was turned. Moments later, you fell to the ground, screaming as a pain ripped through your lower abdomen as you lost your unborn child.

Lagertha had spared your life after you attempted to kill her by throwing an ax at her head. She thought that by letting you live, the sons of Ragnar wouldn’t seek revenge for their mother. Oh, how wrong she was.

“They say being in water so warm isn’t good for you, my love.” Your husband says he's propping himself up by his arms, leaning them on the side of the tub so he’s level with you.

You shrug.

“I can have one of the slaves help you get out and dressed if you’re in too much pain.”

Shaking your head, you press your forehead against Ivar’s. To most, he was a sadist and bloodthirsty man, nothing more than a man who craved violence to fill the void in his heart, but he had never treated you with anything but kindness and respect. Ivar found the love he always craved from you in spite of others thinking your relationship would fail. Since Margarethe spread rumors claiming Ivar couldn’t please a woman sexually, the other sons of Ragner enjoyed teasing Ivar, saying it wouldn’t be long until you left him for someone else, not that you ever would.

“No, that won’t be necessary. Besides, I want to stay in here until the water cools down.”

Ivar brushes damp hair behind your ear as tears start to roll down your cheeks. “Perhaps the gods took our child early so that my mother wouldn’t be alone.”

“Perhaps,” you sob. Ivar had been furious upon learning of his mother's death and had sworn to kill Lagertha one day, but he was trying his best to contain his rage around you. “Queen Aslaug deserved better. I’m sorry I couldn’t stop what happened to her, but her death will be avenged.”

“We will have our revenge on Lagertha, but for now we will bid our time. First you will regain your strength, then we will have revenge on those who are responsible for my father's death, and then we will have retribution for what happened to my mother.”

—

A mixture of dampness and thick smoke hung heavily in the air as you stepped outside for the first time in days. Hiding away wasn’t going to change what happened, and you wanted to at least appear strong on the outside. The first person to greet you is Ubbe, who pulls you into a hug. “I’m sorry, Drifa; I know how happy you and Ivar were to finally start a family of your own.”

Hvitserk hugs you next but says nothing. Behind you, Sigurd makes a crude comment about Ivar losing his mommy and then his surrogate mommy right after. You keep your composure, not wanting to give him satisfaction. Sigurd had attempted to seduce you several times since you married his brother, but each time you rejected him, making him bitter towards you.

“That’s enough,” Ubbe snaps.

Irritated, your fingers tap against one of the tables loudly, gaining all of the brothers attention. You narrow your eyes at Sigurd as your fingers slide over the selection of weapons already laid out on the table for the purpose of gutting fish.

“Just ignore him,” Hvitserk says, attempting to calm you down. “My brother is just jealous; he doesn’t even have a woman to stick his cock in.”

“Is that right, Sigurd? You are making jokes at the expense of my dead child because your dick is lonely? I’m sure we could find a nice pig for you.”

His face reddens with embarrassment when his brothers all laugh at him. “You’re nothing but a whore; we all know Ivar couldn’t possibly be the father of that thing that was growing inside you. He isn’t man enough.”

“Do not insult Ivar in front of me!”

“Why? Nobody cares. Nobody gives a shit about a cripple.”

You grab hold of the knife next to you and aim it at Sigurd. The edge of the knife scrapes across the side of his face, cutting it in the process. When Sigurd goes to take a step towards you, Ubbe steps in between you and says, “No more; you’ve upset our sister enough for one day.”

Another reason Sigurd hates you is because his family accepts you as one of their own. Aslaug treated you like a daughter, and his brothers were very protective of you. They admired your loyalty to Ivar.

“I am counting down the days until my husband finally kills you!” You hiss.

Hearing a laugh, you turn your head back to see Ivar observing the scene with a smile on his face. He had managed to crawl so quietly that nobody noticed him sitting on the opposite side of the table from where you stood. He claps his hands in amusement and says, “Isn’t she fantastic? Beautiful and violent.” Ivar licks his lips before sitting back in the chair. “Now, let us begin to plan our next move.”

Ivar motions for you to come over to him; when you do, he guides you till you’re sitting atop his thighs, his arm wrapping around your back while your legs dangle over his. He kisses your cheek and says, “Good girl, your aim is getting better.”

Admittedly, you weren’t the best at welding a weapon or firing an arrow until Ivar decided to teach you. You whisper, “I still think I’ll need a few more one-on-one lessons.”

He smirks before turning his attention to his brothers, who seem unfazed by you sitting on his lap, all aside from Sigurd, whose glare is burning into you.

[axelsagewrites]

Ragnar Lothbrok*Pet

Pairing: Ragnar x f!captured reader

Kinktober Day twenty-four: thigh riding/dry humping with Ragnar Lothbrok – after taking a Christian girl prisoner he decides to show you the pleasure a heathen can feel

Word count: 1491

Warnings: talks of religion, religious corruption, religious guilt, teasing, heavy flirting, mini crisis of faith ig, being ragnars pet/prisoner, making out, thigh riding, smut 18+

Masterlist Here

Kinktober List Here

“She is a Christian,” Floki whispered in Ragnars ear as the pair studied the girl presented to them, “We should get rid of her, not drag her around with us. She will only slow us down,”

While Floki’s eyes bore into Ragnars skull the kings’ eyes lingered elsewhere. They had taken your village some days ago when one of his men found you hiding in the forest. The sight of you on your knees, even if it were to pray to a false god to survive, was enough to convince Ragnar.

“I should like to keep her,” he said, watching how your lips wrapped around the words you mumbled, “Untie her hands,” he commanded one of his men as Floki sighed.

“What is it with you and your Christian pets? At least keep her hands bound,” he tried to reason but Ragnar just shook his head. He knew you wouldn’t run.

A couple of weeks had passed of successful raiding and gold was beginning to pile up around him. Ragnar sat at the makeshift feast they had decided to throw after taking another village however his eyes were once again on the Christian girl who sat across from him. At first you used to flush under his gaze, a sight he enjoyed and often tried to tease out by whispering pretty words in your ear.

Ragnar leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, “What are you thinking about?” he asked, your eyes snapping up to meet his.

“That I may sleep soon. The night is growing long,”

“That is an excellent idea. Perhaps I should join you,” he said, smirking at the way you began to stutter and flush, “Tell me something. Where you married before?”

You paused for a moment before answering, “No, why?”

Ragnar shook his head, “well I heard,” he said, leaning in closer and grinning as you did the same as his voice dropped to a whisper, “that it is only the married ones who get fucked,”

“I-well-I- yes it would be a sin otherwise,” you stuttered out, face growing hot as Ragnar poured himself another glass of wine. “I’m not even supposed to talk about…that,”

“Why not?”

“It is a sin,”

“Why?” he asked, tilting his head like a curious child.

The awkward smile worn on your lips made a real one grow on his face, “Because god said so,”

“Have you spoken to god,”

“Well, no,”

“Then how do you know?” a frustrated sigh left your lips that made Ragnars grin widen. He was getting to you and enjoying every moment of it. he leaned in closer once more, whispering for your sake more than anything,” Why would a god create something so beautiful then not let you appreciate its wonders?”

“It is a sin,” you clung to the excuse, realising you did not know why either.

The laugh that left his mouth however caught you off guard and your lips twitched, almost forming a smile at the smile on his face. That was until he spoke again, “Perhaps we should sin together one time,” he said, standing and grabbing his cup of wine. Before he could leave, he sauntered over to whisper one last thing in your ear, “And the idea of you falling apart on my cock is enough to make me believe in my god,”

A few more weeks had passed and soon you would be heading back with the raiders to their land. Despite still being wary of many of the men some, Ragnar specifically, had grown on you. “Where will I stay when you take me back with you?” you asked one night as you began to brush through your hair.

Ragnar glanced at you as he began to unlace his boots. While he had unbound your hands, he had insisted on keeping you in his tent, thankfully on your own bed, thought you wondered if this was for his entertainment or safety, “I will find somewhere for you,” he answered simply before reaching to pull his shirt over his head.

Despite seeing this sight many times, the way his muscles flexed, and his tattoos gleamed against his skin made a tingle shoot through your spine. “So, I won’t be a slave? Or is it a thrall you call them?”

Ragnar paused for a moment, his eyes scanning over you, “You need not worry little one. I will take care of you,”

A moment passed before you allowed yourself to smile, “Thank you Ragnar,” you said and a small smile crept onto his lips as he settled himself above his sheets, his eyes scanning over you.

“Come here,” he said, nervousness washing over you, “Trust me,”

You paused at first before standing from beneath your covers. Your underdress was the only thing to cover you now as you crossed the tent. Ragnar patted the spot beside him and cautiously you sat down, picking at your thumbs. His hand closed over yours, “You’ll make yourself bleed,” he said, and you just nodded as his eyes continued to study your face.

“Has anyone ever kissed you?” he whispered.

You swallowed before answering, “Once,” you said, tempted to pick at your skin but somehow resisting, “But I wasn’t very good at it,”

“Perhaps you should try again,” he whispered, his hot breath fanning over your skin as he moved to rest his forehead against yours.

“Perhaps you could teach me,” you whispered, a spark lighting in his eyes, “if I am to go back to your land perhaps it is time I Learned your ways,”

“All our ways?” he asked, his hand reaching over to run his fingers lightly up your thighs making you shiver, “Is that what you desire little one?”

“Would it be so wrong if I did?” you asked and the way your wide eyes gazed into his made Ragnars cock begin to harden.

His hand trailed slowly up your leg, torturously so until it arrived at your hip. You gasped when he grabbed it, pulling you over to straddle his thigh. “Ragnar- “you gasped, when he bent his leg up, propping you up on his strong thigh, “What are you doing?”

“Teaching,” his hands reached for your hair, pulling your lips down onto his. This was far different from the last time someone had kissed you. this was rough and needy and made whines leave your throat as one of his hands moved to your hips.

You couldn’t even question what he was doing before he began to move your hip, making you grind down onto his thigh. The way you whimpered made Ragnar wonder if Odin himself had blessed him. Ragnar guided your hips and soon your body took over, rubbing your clit against his strong thigh as his hand squeezed the flesh of your hips.

When he pulled his lips away yours chased after his making a chuckle leave them before he began to kiss down your jaw. “You don’t need to be quite little one,” he mumbled against your skin as a soft moan left your mouth, “No one will judge,”

His lips soon found the crook of your neck, kissing it in a way that made a knot in your stomach tighten. Since your hips now moved of their own accord his hands were free to travel up your frame, taking your tits in his hand and making you gasp as he squeezed them softly.

He felt his cock twitch at the feeling of the Hardened buds beneath your shift. His fingertips trailed slowly around your nipples at first, enjoying your needy whines before he finally began to roll them between his fingers.

“Oh god,” you moaned as he pinched them gently, but your words just made him want you more and groan against your skin.

It didn’t take long for a tight feeling to spread across your body, “What is happening to me?” you asked but it came out as more of a whine.

“Enjoy it little one,” Ragnar said, his lips moving to kiss your check, “Let yourself let go,” he said before your lips slammed onto his even catching yourself by surprise. Your moans allowed him to slip his tongue in, the kiss becoming messier and more desperate as you grinded against his thigh.

He felt your body jerk and Ragnar smirked into the kiss knowing what was about to happen. Your lips broke apart only for your head to fall in the crook of his shoulder, “Oh god,” you began to moan again before you felt your peak wash over you like a tidal wave.

sensing your body tensing and hips slowly Ragnar reached for your hips, moving them for you so he could watch you ride out your peak on his thigh. Curses left your lips before you finally slumped into his chest. Ragnar let out a small chuckle, letting his leg lay flat and holding you against his chest. Ragnar had defiantly made the right decision he thought.

[ubbesbabymama]

Their friend is pregnant, pt. 2.

↳ Pairing. Hvitserk The Berserker, Sigurd Snake in The Eye, Ivar The Boneless.

↳ Summary. How would they react to their dear friend being pregnant. [I imagine this with them having the same kind of friendship that Ragnar had with Athelstan but with the reader].

↳ Warnings. Violence, death, abusive relationships, smut/mention of sex.

↳ Note. A second part so I could write the ones that are left because is just so much fun to write this plot.

Part one.

Hvitserk The Berserker.

He adores you, he genuinely thinks you’re the only perfect person on earth and he would do anything to protect you from anybody, even himself.

He is busy between a thrall’s legs, making everything in his power to make her scream his name, thrusting like a madman when he hears his name being called and he stops right away. That’s not the thrall’s voice.

“Hvitserk,” You sob and he can’t help but to pull out and push the woman, running to you while fixing his pants.

“Come here, come here,” He mumbles, taking you in his arms and walking to another room that doesn’t smell like sex.

He sits on the floor in front of a bonfire with you on his lap, and you move around till your legs are around him just like he is around you. You move again and he grunts.

“D-Don’t move too much,” He whispers.

“O-Oh! I’m sorry, forgive—,” You try to move but he grips your thighs. “Hvitserk.”

“Forget everything else and tell me why are you crying,” He says. “Talk to me.”

“Why do I have to talk to you while your cock is poking into my backside?” You ask him and he grunts again, this time because of your stubbornness.

“That is because I got interrupted while I was getting it down, now, talk to me or I am going to take my axe and go look for the information myself.” He threatens.

You sigh and clean your face a little before looking at him.

“I am with child.”

“That’s not true,” He chuckles and panics when your eyes start to fill with tears, and he takes your face in his hands. “Wait— no, no, no sweat heart.”

“Y-You don’t believe me either,” You sob in his hands and he shakes his head.

“I thought it was another one of your pranks, I apologize little one,” You nod, sobbing. He frowns. “Either?”

“He kicked me out of the house… literally,” You whisper, rolling your dress to show him your scratched knees, you show him your hands and they’re scratched too. “He said I cheated on him, that a whore like me could find a man to breed me really fast just so I could trap—,”

You stop talking when Hvitserk moves you around, standing up and taking you with him. He puts his hand on the small of your back to guide you out of the room and back to his room. In silence he takes off your dirty dress and tosses it to the side, he looks around for a moment and comes back with a shirt of him, he helps you put it on.

“I’m going to be right back, get under the covers,” He quietly says, you shake your head, and he sighs. “Under the covers, please.”

“You’re going to kill him.” You whisper.

“Of course, I’m going to kill him, for starters, I gave you that house, he has no right to kick you out, and second, while you’re with child?” He snorts with malice.

“Hvitserk,” He looks at you and holds your stare to let you know that he is not backing down. You nod to yourself and kiss his cheek. “I’ll wait for you awake.”

You know he is back when some thralls enter the room with the tub, he enters right behind them and you gasp, he is bathed in blood, from the hair to his boots.

“What in Odin’s green earth did you do to him?!” You ask alarmed, he shrugs and starts to take his clothes off in front of you and the thralls. “Hvitserk!”

“I tied him to a tree and started beating him,” He looks up slowly, his eyes cold. “I beat him till his last breath.”

“You’re insane,” You whisper, getting out of bed when he gets inside the tub. You start to undo his braids.

“For you, I can be worse than Ivar, you know this already.” He chants, not a single trace of regret on his face.

“Yeah well, you killed the abusive father of my child,” You roll your eyes. “So it’s safe to say that you’re now a father.”

He smirks.

“Great.”

Sigurd Snake In The Eye.

Everybody could see how much you mean to him, it was as obvious as the fact that the sun would shine every day. When it comes to you he knows no reason or shame, going as far as to beg if he needs to.

“I-I can’t find her,” He murmurs when all his brothers are gathered to hunt.

“Who?” Ubbe asks.

“What do you mean you can’t find her? It’s almost as if you live together,” Hvitserk jokes.

“I think her husband has something to do with her suddenly disappearing.” He swallows and just now everybody feels the tension in the air. “I-I need help, please.”

Suddenly Ivar starts crawling away and everybody looks at him, he stops and looks back directly at Sigurd.

“What are you doing there? We have to find her.” He grunts and in no time Sigurd is by his side.

That’s how much you mean to Sigurd, so much that even his younger brother whom he always argues about anything not dare to joke around.

And he finds you, in a small cabin deep in the woods, thanks to Hvitserk’s insight in the town he founds that your husband owns this cabin for when he goes hunting alone.

He enters the cabin and sucks a breath when he sees you in a corner hugging your legs. He takes one step and your husband comes out and pulls you by the hair, you yelp.

“If you get close I will kill them both!” He screams and Sigurd frown.

“Who’s them?” He whispers to himself, and you sob.

“You didn’t tell him? You’re carrying his child and you didn’t—,”

“Because it’s not his!” You cry, looking at Sigurd and his stare makes you stop trembling a little. You’re safe, Sigurd is here.

Suddenly an arrow enters from behind Sigurd, right on top of his head, and embedded right onto your husband’s head, him being so tall makes it easy for the archer to shoot without fearing it would hit you.

Sigurd looks behind him and nods to Ubbe, who just nods back and starts walking back with his brother, leaving him with you.

He opens his arms and watches how you run and jump on him, his arms sliding around you, one on your thigh and the other on your waist.

“I’m here now, shh…” He comforts you while walking till he leans on a wall. “Nobody can’t hurt you anymore.”

You sob on his neck and he hums.

“I’m tired,” You murmur and he nods.

He takes you back to the town and directly into his room and orders the thralls to prepare a bath for you. When everything’s ready he undresses you and lets you get inside the tub, he’s about to start looking for clothes for you but your grip on his hand stops him.

“I’m not going anywhere, I’m getting in with you,” He says to calm you down and when he sees you expectant he undresses and gets inside too, behind you.

He starts to caress your belly, he supposed you haven’t seen your monthly blood and that’s why you know you’re with child since it’s not clear in your belly.

“You’re going to start living here,” He whispers in your ear. “So I can take care of you better.”

“You have obligations,” You whisper.

“And you’re the main one,” He hums. “Yes?”

“Yes.”

Ivar The Boneless.

Nobody understands how you can stand Ivar, with the man being borderline obsessed with you. The only reason why you can lay with men is that he is certain that he can’t satisfy a woman and he would rather be burned alive than disappoint you from all people, but other than that, he lets no man get close to you unless you directly tell him that you chose that man to warm your chambers, he has bodyguards for you, thralls for you, he gives you a quarter of everything he owns or gets. Even when he goes raiding everybody knows that a lot of the goods are yours and yours only. That’s how obsessed Ivar The Boneless is with you.

Of course, it’s almost impossible to hide things from him, more so with the people in town being so eager to bring him information about you just to be favored, so as soon as you’re being yelled at and tossed around by the Viking Ivar is notified.

“You think after three times you can already be with child?! Do you think I’m stupid?!” The man was yelling at you, but you weren’t backing down. No sir.

“After ONE time of laying together, I can already be with child, or do you think your seed is so weak you need more than once? even more than three? Poor you.” You mock and gasp when he pushes you, making you fall onto your backside, you whimper at the burn in your hands for breaking the fall.

“I should just kill you and that bastard right now!” He yells, and you spit on your side in response.

“Who?” You freeze, feeling chills run down your spine. That voice only means problems, and a lot of them. “Who are you going to kill? My woman?”

You feel him right beside you, leaning on his crutch. He looks down at you and nods and you nod back, slowly standing up.

“L-Lord I-Ivar,” The man stuttered.

“So? You’re going to kill my woman, you say?” Ivar says, his tone friendly but his eyes, oh those eyes.

“N-no, no my lord,” The man keeps stuttering. “It’s this woman who says she’s carrying my child.”

Ivar face snaps to the side, looking at you while anger starts to bubble in his system, a burning feeling in his chest, he squints his eyes at you and silently you start to pray to the gods for the life of the man.

“When I was hunting and you were keeping me company, that was your last month bleeding, right?” Ivar says and he’s not actually asking, he knows that information, for he’s the one you always go to when you’re in pain, but you nod anyways. “And he pushed you while you’re carrying a child?”

You nod again.

“Yes, Ivar.” The man grimaces when he hears you call Ivar by his name and without honorifics, why nobody told him he was laying with someone so important? “He did.”

Ivar’s face slowly turns to the man, and he grins.

“Now I have to decide whether you die—,”

“Ivar can I—,” You start but are interrupted.

“NO!” He snaps, pointing at you with his finger. “You do not get to save him from this, you do not get a saying this time!”

“Ivar,” Your own anger makes you grind your teeth. “Can I go home? My feet are hurting and I need to get a healer for my hands.”

He blinks and looks down at your bloody hands from the fall before, he sighs, feeling bad at the way he talked to you when you weren’t even trying to help the man.

“I’ll finish this quickly,” Ivar says and in the blink of an eye, the man is being dragged by Ivar’s men while crying and babbling apologies.

You don’t let Ivar say anything more and start walking home and when you get there you ask for a healer and after being done with your hands and a quick checkup on your overall health you ask for a hot bath.

“It’s ready, my lady,” The thrall says just in time for Ivar’s entrance, she gasps and starts to tremble.

“You can go now, don’t come back again, you may take the tub out tomorrow,” You whisper tiredly.

Ivar is covered in blood and even you get a chill run down your spine. It looks grotesque, never has he had so much blood on him from just one person, he looks demonic even.

“I’m—,” He starts but you lift your hand.

“I honestly don’t want to hear it,” You murmur, starting to get undressed.

He looks at you with attention, watching you moan when the hot water gets in contact with your skin.

“I’m sorry.” He finishes what he was saying earlier and you roll your eyes.

“I’m with child, I got pushed by the father of the child and then he got killed by you and I imagine it was in the most animalistic way you could think of,” You tell him coldly. “I’m tired, I didn’t need you snapping at me when I was the one being mistreated, you may go now if that’s going to happen again.”

“I’m sorry.” It’s all he says, he looks emotionless, his voice too. But you know that those words coming out of Ivar’s mouth is already a blessing.

“I don’t want to talk to you.”

“I’m not leaving.” He says, crawling more closer.

“You look scary.”

“I’ll get clean after you tell me how are you,” He whispers and you sigh.

“What am I going to do now?” You whisper to him, getting close to him.

“Nothing, you don’t need to do anything,” He whispers. “Just let me take care of you. Both of you.”

“You already do that,” You smile.

He smiles and leans, giving you a soft kiss although you could tell it doesn’t mean anything more.

“Yes I do, until the gods call me to Valhalla.”

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Summer Rose - An Ivar the Boneless/Reader Smut Short.

Bit of smut and fluff, some softer Ivar? I was feeling a certain way about him today, so now so can you, too!

Words - 633

Warnings - Smut below the cut, minors DNI!

Ivar is a man who wears many faces. The unflinching stare of contempt perhaps being his most famous, or the unnerving grin of a man working four steps ahead of his enemies. For you, though, your favourites are the ones he saves for when the two of you are alone.  

The look of sheer bliss as you top him is perhaps the one you love most. 

“Fuck, my love. How good you feel around my cock.” The words pour from his beautiful, full lips like wine, his hands grasped tight upon your hips while you work in serpentine against him. His thick cock ruts you fully, hitting every angle, every depth, your body cast in pure gold from the firelight, the sight of you atop him warming his heart as much as it does feed his lust.  

For this Viking, he never thought love could match the roaring flare of carnal desire, until he met you. Until you showed him, told him, made him feel it in his very bones. It mingles in waves of ebullient delight, his thumb moving to drag heat across your aching bud, sparks roaring up your spine as you cry out.  

“You are always at your most beautiful when you...” he trails off, his words deafened by your ascension, grinning with a deep chuckle as he witnesses it, your complete undoing that leaves you a shaking wreck atop him. “...when you fall apart like that for me.” 

Gathering yourself, you continue to roll your hips against him, wanting for his own pleasure to streak through him wildly, his eyes closing tightly as he groans, deep and rolling, whispering curses as the flutters of your cunt make lightning begin to flicker within his depths.  

His mouth drops open, panting hard, the icy shards that are his eyes opening to fix you with a lust drenched stare, the thickness of him splitting you wide causing pleasure to spark over your nerves, hitting the heights of a swirling tempest again with him as he fills you with thick ropes of hot spend.  

“Gods,” you breathe, fingers weaving through his as you chuckle, “I am tired now.” 

“Hardly surprising,” he pants, pulling you to him, offering kisses steeped in soft heat. “Come, love. Let me make you comfortable.” You climb from him, carefully taking to your back, Ivar pulling the pelts and blankets up over your legs, arranging the pillows plumply beneath your head. When he gazes down at you, you feel as if your heart could burst.  

He caresses your cheek, nuzzling your neck, his hand slipping down to stroke the rounded swell of your belly, shifting to kiss it. A tiny foot kicks against his mouth. “Child, you dare kick your father in the face?”  

Your laughter fills the room, Ivar prodding your bump with his finger, waiting for it. A tiny foot kicks back immediately. “She is all fire, just like her mother.”  

Ivar has stated with every confidence ever since you told him you were with child that she would be a girl. He felt it, knew it, he said, that your first would not be a son. Unlike many of his brethren who keen for an heir, he did not care an ounce that your baby would be female. “You will be a fine fighter, a fearless shieldmaiden, my little summer rose. You will be all that your mother is, and so much more. I know this, my tiny daughter. I long for the sun to grace our lands once more, for that is the time I shall meet you at last.”  

Watching him talk to your baby, seeing the look of complete adoration as he strokes your belly, you change your mind. Of the many faces Ivar wears, it is this one you love the most.  

[miss-madness67]

Mother Knows Best (Ivar)

Prompt: My arranged marriage with Ivar the Boneless was not a surprise. The surprise had been finding out he did not want to lay with me. Are the rumors of his incapabilities true? Is sex the answer to learn to love each other? I do not know. He scares me, but he is no less fascinating. That is why I decided to give him a chance. Slight AU. Ragnar does not die, neither does Aslaug. They rule side by side and decide to ally themselves with the Saxons.

Mother looks at me across the table. Her eyes are expectant, her expression unamused. She waits for me to say something; to tell her that I am already with child. But because I am not, I remain quiet.

“I would like to know my grandchild, preferably,” she says, “but it would be nice if at least I know you are with child before you leave Wessex.” She gives me a hard stare. Oh, I know she would like that, that’s the reason she has given me plenty of recommendations on how to please my husband in bed. Not that I have applied them.

A month ago, I was given the news that I was to be wed to the youngest of King Ragnar’s sons. A man I hadn’t even met and whose ruthlessness was well known. It was a political marriage. Arranged so our kingdoms would become friends instead of foes. My grandfather, King Ecbert, wanted to have a good relationship with the heathens, so he promised my hand for peace. I always knew I would be married for the good of my kingdom and not love, but that does not mean the news was less disappointing.

The wedding took place two weeks ago, right after the arrival of the Vikings. And as I approached the altar, that was the first time I laid eyes on my husband. His cold demeanor rendered me speechless, but his hard blue-eyed stare sent shivers down my spine. He was sitting on a chair waiting for me. I knew his legs were useless, so that did not surprise me. I tried not to stare during the ceremony but failed miserably. He had looked at me annoyed yet intrigued.

My father, Prince Aethelwulf, was displeased with the marriage, but he had little to no say in the matter. My mother Judith, even though she was in favor of the union, she did not agree with the choice of groom. She thought Ubbe or Sigurd would have been better candidates. King Ragnar himself had chosen Ivar, and my grandfather had agreed with the promise that he would be able to provide children. His ability to lay with a woman had many rumors, but King Ragnar had assured that Ivar was no less of a man in that matter. Not that I would know, because I had yet to lay with him.

The night of our wedding, the bedding ceremony had been canceled due to the Viking’s request. So when I entered the chambers, there was no pressure in laying with him. Yet, I expected he would have wanted me to because he is a man. That had not been the case. That night, we laid side by side in silence until the sun raised. Back then I had been grateful because I did not want to sleep with a man I barely knew, but now I have begun to question myself. Does he not find me attractive? Does he know how to lay with a woman? Is he really not physically able? Does he prefer men?

It is necessary for us to have a child in order to fortify the alliance. That is why my mother had given me tips to please him. I had yet to use them, I feared to do so. In all honesty, I had been afraid of my husband when I first heard of him, and during our wedding. I have heard how he is and I have seen how he treats people. However, that fear has receded ever since. These past two weeks he has been nothing but kind to me, even a little shy. That’s probably the reason why I have started to feel attraction towards him. That and his sharp mind. At first, I did not know how to speak his language. He has been slowly teaching me. And I have seen him playing chess with Alfred, it is honestly fascinating.

“It would be wise for your marriage if you have passion in the bedroom, darling,” my mother says.

I know she means good, and I know she is probably right, but I have to bite my tongue from mentioning her passion with my grandfather. Her marriage with my father is a mere paper. I do not wish my marriage with Ivar to be the same, despite the circumstances. But she does have a point, she has a very good relationship with my grandfather, whom she beds. Sex must be the answer to get closer to Ivar. And maybe, with time, we could learn to love each other. That is a foolish thought, but it is what motivates me to wait naked in bed. He arrives at the dormitory shortly after twelve. He has been drinking with his brothers, but all the inebriation leaves him once he sees me.

“Hello, my…” he does not like it when I call him titles, so I correct myself, “... Ivar. I have been waiting for you.” He does not say anything. Heat accumulates in my face. Does he not like what he sees? I fight the urge to cover myself and hide between the covers. His hands tighten around his crutches.

“What… What are you doing like that? What if someone other than me were to come in?” He questions, he seems angry at the idea, but his eyes do not leave my body.

“I made sure no one other than you were to come inside, my husband,” I whisper. Ivar must notice that I am not completely myself acting like this, because he looks away.

“You don’t have to do that, you know.” He approaches the bed and sits down, his back to me. “I know this is an arranged marriage, we do not have to do anything that you do not want.” His voice is uninterested but his words are sweet. I hesitate.

“I know, but we are expected to bear children.” He tenses. He does not say anything, he starts to take off his leg braces. I wait patiently. The room is colder when he speaks.

“If that is what you wish this is unnecessary, you do not have to remove your camisole.” His voice is harsh and I know I said something I was not supposed to.

“It is not only about that,” I try to correct myself though my voice waivers in nervousness, “I wish… I wish for us to enjoy making children.” It is the most direct way for me to express my desire for him.

He stops what he is doing and turns around. He looks me in the eyes looking for uncertainty. I know he finds none when he drags his body towards me. His arms muscles flex and something knots in my belly. He looms over me with a hungry stare.

When he opens his mouth I think he is about to devour me but he speaks. “Do you not know the rumors? Do you not know what they say?” He does not wait for me to answer, “apparently, I can not please a woman, I can not give children, I am a useless husband.”

I do not hesitate to answer, “I do not listen to rumors, I like to verify for myself,” I put a hand on his chest and the other around his neck. “If it is false, then we shall prove them so, and if it is true, then we shall not give up until we try everything.” He looks doubtful, “I… have learned a few tricks that shall please my husband.”

His surprise is evident when he speaks, “well, I have also learned a few tricks that shall please my wife."

I smile, “then, let us learn from one another.” I do not have time to say anything else before his lips crash with mine.

It is uncertain if we will succeed this night or another, or if we will have children, or if we will learn to love each other. The only thing that I am certain of is that we care for one another. At this moment, in my husband’s arms, I feel like never before.

[disasterofastory]

Relax (Ivar x Reader)

Relax Ivar x Reader Warnings: handjob

Summary: You help your husband relax.

You don't even bother with knocking. Every nerve in your body is on edge. Your heart is in your stomach, throbbing with worry and the need to see your husband. You can feel your insides turn. The door closes shut behind you with a loud thud. The walls shake for a second at the force. Both of them jump at the loud, sudden sound. Ivar's bright blue gaze lands on you with a raised brow. The thrall's eyes are wide and panicked. The pitcher with warm water is still in her hands. A few dark strands of her hair stick to her skin because of the steam that dominates the room. The air is heavy and suffocating with it. "I will help the King with his bath." Your voice is sharp and loud. You need a few deep breaths to check your feelings and change your tone. A gentle smile spreads across your face as you step next to the thrall to take the water from her. "Go to sleep," you tell her, making sure your tone is light and much nicer than before. She doesn't deserve to be at the end of your mood even though only worry, and tiredness makes you much more snappy than usual. "We all deserve some rest after this day." "Thank you, my Queen," she says before leaving.

Your attention wanders to Ivar, who still watches you without a word. New wounds and bruises decorate his skin. His dark hair is a mess of knots and braids. "How are you?" You ask him, pouring the still-warm water into the bath. "I'm fine," he replies. "It looks worse than it feels like." Putting down the pitcher, you grab a rag to soak it in the herb-smelling water before you kneel down next to him and start to wash away the dried blood and mud off his pale skin. His muscles jerk at your gentle touch before relaxing against the bathtub. A relieved sigh leaves his lips. "Did you kill him?" You ask after a few seconds. The satisfied smirk tells you the answer even before he forms it into words. "He will never bother us again." You nod. "I was worried." You knew the battle was inevitable, but when you saw the brightness in Ivar's eyes, you couldn't help but think of the worst all day. Seeing Ivar coming back through the gates of Kattegat was such a relief you almost fell onto your knees at the view of him. "I'm fine," he hums, grabbing your hand to kiss your palm. "I will always come back to you." "You can't know that," you argue. You watch the small droplets of water running down his broad shoulders. Your lips find the fresh bruise on his shoulder blade. Your fingers run up to his hair to get rid of the ruined braids. His head falls back against your touch.

"What's wrong?" You ask him after a while, washing out the soap from his hair. Your nostrils are filled with the smell of herbs you mixed together just for him. It always calms him down and puts him in a better mood. Well, almost always. "I don't know," he replies, fidgeting. The water ripples around him with every move. "My head... There is too much thing going on in my head." A smirk pulls on your lips as you adjust yourself at his side. Your head rests on your arm on the edge of the bathtub. Your other hand plays with the surface of the water. It's still warm. "I can help, my husband," you tell him. "If you want." You don't even wait for his answer. The pleading glint in the depth of his bright blue eyes is enough for your to move your hand to his chest. Pressing your hand against his chest, you feel his heart beating for long seconds. The thuds are strong and stubborn.

He is already half-hard when you reach down in the water. Your fingers curl around his shaft easily, and you can feel him twitch in your firm hold. A trembling breath leaves Ivar's lips. A smirk pulls on yours. The curve of his cock is familiar as you run your fist up and down his length a few times before releasing him to tease him a bit. He hisses at the feeling. Your finger smooths down on the underside of his erection until you reach his balls. "Y/N!" He groans out your name. His hoarse voice goes straight to your pussy, making your thighs clench for some friction. You keep your eyes on him the whole time. You still don't understand how a vicious man like Ivar can be so beautiful. His cheeks are dark pink, almost matching the shade of his lips. "You are so pretty," you state, and Ivar smirks through the bliss. "Squeeze me, wife." A moan follows his words when you do as he says. You palm him, curling your fingers around his shaft again to pump his length firmly. Your thumb traces the head of his cock, slipping up to the small hole. The grip of Ivar's hold on the edge of the bathtub is so tight you can almost hear the wood creaking. His chest moves up and down rapidly as he gulps down the air to bring it back into several moans and groans. "Kiss me," you order him, leaning closer to him. "Kiss me, husband." He doesn't even open his eyes when he brings his lips against yours. The movement is clumsy at first, with all teeth and tongue. Ivar is so deep in his own pleasure, he doesn't fight back when you start to dominate the kiss. You lick his lips, following the soft curve of his bottom lip and tangling your tongue with his into a fierce dance. Your free hand finds the back of his head, gripping his wet hair between your fingers. His groan is muffled and vibrates in your throat. Your pussy pulses and aches, meanwhile, Ivar gets closer and closer to his orgasm. You can read him like an open book, and when you are sure he is close to the edge, you make your hand move faster on his cock while pulling on his hair at the same time. His erection jerks in your hold as he cums with several shots.

"Can you help me out?" He asks after a few minutes. His breath is still rapid. "I'm not done with you yet."

[woahhhgwendolyn]

Ivar With His Children Would Include...

-Ivar would be awesome with his kids. He would be one amazing father to his kids. He is so loving and caring and would also love to do anything for them.

-When he first learns that you are with his child, he becomes really protective over you and also starts thinking about the child that is soon to be born.

-When you are still holding the child, he loves to fantasize about the child and what he or she would be like when they are older.

-He not only talks about the child with you, but he loves to brag to the rest of his family that he is having a child with you and how amazing you are because you are carrying the child.

-When the child is born, he thinks a bit differently now than he had before. He has become more mature and acts more like an adult.

-When the child is older like 8 Ivar would love to play with them and teach them how to fight. That is his favorite things to do with his children, play and fight.

-He has no intention on having weak kids. He does not want his children to be weak minded and to be gullible. So, he often teaches his children good ways to make sure they are not this way.

-When he has free time, he loves to also take his children on rides and teach them about the gods and the history behind their village and the great stories of their amazing grandpa Ragnar Lothbrok.

[blue-sadie]

Tracing Tattoos

Imagine:

Being in bed with a sleeping ivar and slowly tracing his tattoos, your finger tips grazing his skin leaving a trail of goosebumps, your touch slowly makes him stir in his sleep.

"Hm that feels good my love but I'd prefer if your hands scratching my back as I fuck you making you squirm and scream my name letting the village know your mine"

[squirrelacorngliterfarts]

Omg imagine riding Ivar's face and him not letting yiu go after you're done using his crazy upper strength to hold yiu down and make you come several times 🥺

ohohohohohohohohohohohohohohooooooooooooooooo

first time back at writing on tumblr for the first time in like 2 or 3 years here we goooooooooo

warnings: smut.

i hope you all enjoy<3

ivar would be so nervous, so gentle, so kind at first, tenderly testing you to see if it was he you actually wanted.

but when he caught your gaze after a moment of touching, kissing, and soft whimpers exchanged, he knew you wanted it just as much as he did.

you'd be in his lap, kissing his lips, caressing his body when you felt his hands grazing your thighs.

you opened your eyes to look at him, and he'd be hesitant, but too excited to hide his desire.

"climb up" he'd whisper, and you'd cock your brow at him, wondering just what he meant.

"up my body. here" he'd motion to his face. your eyes would widen, mouth popping open in surprise.

"ivar...i-.....i've never...".

"i'll guide you" he whispers once more, eyes soft, pleading but not pushing. this was purely your decsion, if you wished to stop you could.

what harm could come from this?.

taking a soft breath, you'd climb up his body, thighs settling on either side of his face.

"are you comfortable?" he says, his breath hitting you from between your legs making your voice quiver when you answered him.

"y-yes".

ivar would run his rough, caloused hands up your thighs, stopping at your hips, holding them firmly.

"so pretty like this" ivar would mutter, rubbing your skin so smoothly, no shakiness. like a snake winding it's way around your body waiting to devour you.

your hands would steady themselves against the wall in front of you, taking deep breaths, trying not to shake too early.

"may i?".

you couldn't help but laugh.

"ivar, i'm right here for you".

ivar would smirk, kissing your inner thigh, tongue peaking out to lick up the wetness that had dripped from you whilst kissing.

you'd bite your bottom lip, concentrating on his mouth, eyes closed, savoring this. trying to take in exactly what it felt like to be pleasured this way.

"ivar" you'd moan after moment of him just kissing around your ready and open pussy.

he'd chuckle quietly, taking you by surprise he'd lean in and place the most wet, intense tongued kiss to your clit.

your head would fall back, legs already quivering from supporting yourself.

ivar would moan into you, fully making out with you, sucking on your clit like candy, plump lips massaging all parts of you.

"fuck. fuck, ivar" you'd cry out uselessly, ivar not slowing down or stuttering once.

he had a taste of you, swallowing it like the finest of wines. the wetness, sweat and your own natural scent driving him mad with hungered lust.

he noticed you were holding back, struggling to hold yourself up any longer.

he took it into his own hands.

your pants turn into loud yelps, moans, shouts and cries when he yanks your hips down on his face, your full weight on his face.

his nose against your clit when he moves just a bit lower, tongue gently pushing in and out of your hole, fucking you with his mouth, reaching parts that even your fingers couldn't reach.

your hands go to his hair, pulling, full frustration in your body, needing to be fucked out like an animal in heat.

ivar was too entranced to notice your shouts of your upcoming orgasm.

he's in love. in love with this taste, the comfort of your body weight all over his head, pretty thighs around him. hearing your voice, your sighs, the way you were pulling his hair.

he never truly realized how much he'd love you on top of his face like this.

he pulls back for just a moment, an urge ripping through him.

"ride me".

you drunkly open your eyes, ready to slide down his body, already going to miss his mouth.

but his hands stop you.

"no, no. ride my face".

your eyes widen, pussy clenching. and without hesitation, you settle over his face again.

your hips gently go back and forth, words struggling to come out.

ivars eyes roll back, catching what breath he can, he watches you, breasts bouncing as you use his face like a cock, your own pleasure toy, he feels it, the way you're losing control, your pussy ready to cum.

and you do. hard.

the shout that comes from you sounds pained, but relieved, so needy, so fucking good.

your hips keep going to ride out the high, your pussy contracting around nothing, your cum dripping down his lips to his chin and neck.

you go to move, but ivars hands grab your wrists, keeping you still.

"2 more" he mumbles into your pussy, lips rubbing your lit once more, causing you to jerk and yelp from over stimulation.

"ivar! ivar, no no no no no no. i c-can't-ah!" you cry out when he uses his upper body strength to hold you down on his mouth when he licks from your hole to clit over and over again.

he looks up at you from under you.

"be mine. all mine. be mine and cum 2 more times for me like my good girl. let me drink you and kiss you with my cum covered lips".

you clenched around him and followed his orders. not being able to deny him.

like a good girl.

[lavender-romancer]

Bruised

Ivar Ragnarsson x Reader

Ivar loves war more than you

CW: arguments, swearing, slight smut and submissive Ivar, anger, aggression

”*°•.˜”*°•˜”*°•.˜”*°•. .•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜

Even though he was your betrothed, you knew that you'd always be second best in Ivar's head and you just had to accept it. Whilst you had no say over the marriage there was no use being bitter, he was obsessed with war and blood. You yourself were also a warrior but you were pregnant and couldn't risk the date of their heir in such a careless way but, Ivar didn't share your anxiety towards death. He only thought of Valhalla, his obsession with becoming a warrior and dying noble and brave was taking its toll on you and you didn't know how to tell him it was happening because of him.

"I made some beautiful kills today, my love." Ivar grinned as he came into your quarters, you were laid back on the pillows cradling your ever growing stomach bump.

He was covered in blood, hadn't even spared a moment to wipe his face and you hated how attractive you found him in this high-testosterone state. Ivar was way too excited to realise how clean your night dress was as he lay a hand over your stomach and just smiled up at you. His sweet face sending a warm feeling to your stomach because you knew he was home safe, at least for now.

"Be careful, my love. No pressing, I think she's sleeping." You put your hand on top of his gently.

"Ah, she will be a strong girl like her mother with more need for sleep than the normal person!" He joked and you slapped him on the head lightly with a laugh.

"No matter how excited you are you always find time to discuss my sleeping habits don't you, dearest?" You raised an eyebrow and Ivar giggled. He climbed up onto your bed and thrust off his tunic that was spattered with blood on the sleeves. He grabbed a cloth from beside the bed and cleaned his face, seeming to have woken up from all the excitement and realising how clean you were.

"I'll always be happy to discuss how much sleep you require, plus making a little bit of fun toward you is always my favourite pastime." Ivar leant on your breasts, holding the other in his hand as you stroked his hair.

"Someone's comfortable, hmm?" You asked and he hummed a yes into your chest, enjoying himself a bit too much.

"Pregnancy has made these bigger, I'll have to get you pregnant again so I can enjoy it once more." He kissed both your breasts and then your lips as you hit him on the head again.

"You're a dirty man, my betrothed. Not even married me and already filled me with a child." You looked down at him lovingly, your anxiety calmed as soon as he walked in the door and you knew it wasn't healthy for the baby but you didn't know what you'd do if he was seriously hurt.

"You're welcome." Ivar grinned.

"Don't leave me again, okay?" You held him close to you and squashed him against your body and closed your eyes.

"You know I can't agree to that." Ivar whispered and you sighed, not saying anything else "Y/n, you knew what I was when you accepted my proposal. I am a Ragnarsson, I am born to do this and have a right."

You still said nothing and you knew the child growing in you made your emotions go into a concentrated form whenever you felt something but you couldn't deal with it anymore. You pushed him away from you and turned over in bed, hugging yourself and staying silent.

"Y/n, please." Ivar sounded desperate but you couldn't see his blood spattered body right now, you couldn't deal with the reminder that Ivar would be gone by the morning.

Ivar sighed and turned over, back to you as he slowly went into a deep sleep. You sat up and lit a candle by your bed, you started circling your hand over your stomach.

"You're going to be perfect, and no one will ever hurt you. You're going to stay with me and learn new languages and arithmetic and how to govern. I don't know if you'll meet your father, but I will always be here to keep you safe, little one." You were whispering but Ivar heard every word and it sent a pang of pain to his stomach, he felt too unwillingly guilty.

Ivar craved war, he craved death by battle and yet he wanted you and wanted to be with you constantly. He wanted a lazy morning with you, massaging your aching back and falling asleep on your chest. Ivar wanted to kiss you, he wanted to kill, he wanted to give you love but he needed to vanquish all who dared test him and his rule.

You were smiling down at your stomach, imagining when he or she would be in your arms after however long and hard the birth would be. It would all be worth it to hold their delicate little body in your arms and feel that connection that you had felt immediately with Ivar. You missed that immediate connection you made with Ivar, you knew that you already had it with this baby even though they weren't here yet. The moment you'd met Ivar you knew you had to speak to him more, you had to find out everything about him and couldn't sleep without thinking of him. Even though he didn't seem to want you anymore you still craved him and conversations with him, your love for your betrothed was unmistakable and unmatched. Until this baby was born there was no one you loved more than Ivar.

Ivar suddenly turned over and sat up next to you, it made you jump slightly but his next movements were slow. He shuffled over and leant his head on your shoulder, laying a hand over yours on your stomach and gripping it. He kissed your shoulder and stayed quiet, just holding you and your stomach gently showing his affection through touch. Ivar had never been good with words when it came to gentleness or affection, he was so much better at physical representations of it.

"I'm sorry." Ivar whispered and you leant your head on his.

"It's okay, angel." You kissed the top of his head and he turned his face to look at yours with tears in his eyes.

The blood still clung to his cheeks and he looked so beautiful and vulnerable next to you that you struggled to not take him into your arms and never let him leave. But you knew you couldn't control him and you couldn't make him stay.

"I'm not good for you, I just cause you stress and I… I just can't fucking say what I want to and I just- fuck," he paused "I love you. I love you so much and fuck I just loose all my words when it's only you with me. I'm so enchanted by you, my love."

"We both know you're not always the best with words but you have your moments. That was lovely." You smiled softly and leant forward till you were nose to nose with Ivar.

"You're just trying to make me laugh now." Ivar smirked and you blushed, unable to hide your intentions. You loved seeing him smile.

"Yeah and so what?" You slowly kissed him and Ivar held your face with one hand and kept the other hand on your stomach.

"I will never let anything bad happen to either of you," Ivar said quietly as you drew apart and rested your foreheads together "You are my world, my night sky full of stars, my sea full of creatures, my reason for being. I have never cared for a person the way I care for you, never take my need for war as a dismissal of you and your feelings."

You closed your eyes and wiped your eyes, unable to control your emotions and how your hormones amplified everything. You missed him so much day to day that moments like these were so treasured.

"Don't cry, my love. You are brave and so am I, I will never die because the Gods do not want it. The Seer told me so." Ivar stroked your cheek.

"I do not cry for myself or for you, I cry for our unborn child. What if they never meet you? What if they never know your care or your love?" You pulled away from Ivar a bit and wiped your eyes and your nose again.

"I am Ivar the Boneless, son of Ragnar and Aslaug, I was cursed at birth to live a life of suffering and hopelessness and yet I am King. I am unmistakably the ruler of Kattegat and respected by kingdoms str thing across our great lands. Our child will be blood of my blood, they will be as battle hungry as me and as respected as I. Regardless of their troubles they will feel our love, they will know their importance in this world." Ivar held your face in both of his hands and you smiled at him before kissing his cheeks one by one.

"They will be your blood and better for it. I just long for you, it's selfish and I know it is but I can't help my need for you." You looked longingly into Ivar's eyes and another sharp pain hit Ivar's stomach as he thought about you missing him.

"I just wish you could turn your mind off whilst I am away, that you could separate your anxiety from your general thoughts because I will always come back to you." Ivar whispered, leaning the side of his head against the headboard.

"If only I could believe you." You smiled sadly and Ivar looked away from your eyeline, he was ashamed.

"I cannot give you guarantees. I know that that isn't good enough and I know that you need more than that but this is who I am. Maybe it's healthier for both of us to have more realistic opinions of each other at least for now." Ivar looked at you sympathetically and you hated it, like you were some cooped up lover who couldn't stand up for themselves.

"So I can't expect you to be better? I can't want you to be more supportive and more present in our relationship and your relationship with this baby? What about when they're born and you won't even be there? They won't even know their father!" You yelled, your face getting hot with anger and frustration.

"Oh for fuck, this is ridiculous! You knew who I fucking was! You knew and yet you still carried on. You knew you could get pregnant, you knew we'd get married and yet you just fucking expect something else from me!" Ivar screamed back and your eyes started welling up, you stood up and walked away from the bed, back facing him.

"I don't want to see you when I wake up. Don't fucking come back for all I care, if you love war more than me and your child then what the fuck are you even doing here." You said in a calm voice, not willing to let him see you cry.

"Maybe I fucking will, maybe I'll be fucking dead tommorow! You'd love that wouldn't you, fucking slut making me get you pregnant so you could hold all this shit on me!" He yelled it with so much malice you had to grit your teeth together behind your closed mouth, holding back so much aggression because you couldn't fight him and keep your baby safe.

"You're a fucking bastard, Ivar. Stop acting like I'm a whore! I'm no thrall, I'm not one of you little one night stands who doesn't deserve anything from you, my king. I'm a fucking Princess in my own right, I owe you nothing! We both knew I could get pregnant and we both knew we would be married if it happened. You said you loved me, you fucking said it first you… you fucking…" you trailed off, unable to finish because your head was so scrambled. What was he saying?

"You're not worth the breath I used to shout at you, so what if I said it first?! You fucking entrapped me! You made me love you with all your treatment of me and stupid fucking affection. Of course I had to get out and go to war because you were turning me into something I wasn't!" Ivar yelled his eyes wide open and eyebrows furrowed in an anger induced state. You turned around to face him

"Yeah that's right. I made you fall for me. Just like how I made myself love you, listen to yourself, Ivar. You're not thinking straight, I thought you loved this child? I thought you loved this relationship but God, what are we anymore?" You let a tear drop down your cheek as you held your stomach with one hand and your back with the other. You wished your baby was big enough to start kicking so you didn't feel so alone.

Ivars' expression changed, his eyebrows relaxed and his eyes softened as he realised what he'd said and what he couldn't take back. He knew what he'd done, he knew he'd disregarded your own sacrifices and disrespected you repeatedly. You were carrying his fucking child and yet he couldn't offer you even an ounce of respect. He asked too much of you, he would leave you for weeks at a time and only send letters every now and then. Before you were pregnant he would send you letters and send for you like a dog because he missed your touch and your kind words and now…now you were standing in front of him tears streaming holding your child in your hand.

Ivar crawled forward on the bed and three his legs around to be hanging off the side. He held out his hand to you and you took it with the hand holding your back. Ivar would give you the fucking moon if he had too, to win back your trust because he didn't mean any of it. He just missed your presence, your love and your affection that he had cursed you for not so long ago. As you stepped closer to him you went in-between his legs that had fallen apart, he leant his head gently on your stomach with the side of his face and stroked your stomach with his hand.

This unexpected tenderness made you well up, you had to look up to stop yourself from sobbing because you had missed this so much it hurt. Placing a hand on his head you stroked his hair gently and Ivar closed his eyes, taking in your scent and how in love with you he really was. He was so undeserving of love in his own opinion that he pushed it away without a moment's thought toward the consequences of his harsh words.

"I'm so sorry. I will be better, I will do better, I will be better." Ivar sounded like he was crying and you snaked your hand round to be under his chin, slowly lifting it up and seeing tears in his eyes.

He looked up at you with tearful puppy dog eyes and you fell in love with him all over again. You wanted to slap him, tell him he was a cunt for talking to you that way but violence wouldn't help anything so you just stroke his cheek with your thumb as you hand held his face. Ivar put his arms around your legs and hugged you close to him before kissing your bump.

"I don't understand why you treat me the way you do, but fuck…I know you love me. You have to be better, I can't take it especially when stress can impact the baby. I just can't do it anymore." You wiped your eyes with your sleeve and went back to looking at Ivar who had started sobbing and then dropped to the floor his legs apart as he dragged himself to bend his knees. You tried to help him up but he stopped you, holding your skirts he looked up at you with wet eyes.

"I beg for your forgiveness, I beg for your love, I beg for you to be my wife. I will fucking beg and keep myself in pain for as long as is necessary because I can't loose you." Ivar let out a sob and you couldn't help but let your mouth open slightly. He had never shown such vulnerability, such willingness to change. The King was on his knees begging for you to be his. You knelt down in front of him and took his face in your hands, kissing him softly and tasting salt mixed with copper and ale. It was quite a horrific mix on your tongue but you didn't care, you needed to be close to him.

Ivar put a hand on your ass and pulled you closer to him as one of your hands went round his neck and put pressure on both sides slightly. You'd learnt pretty quickly in your sexual relationship that Ivar didn't always enjoy being in control and loved submitting. It wasn't an overtly sexual interaction more of a powerplay, he knew that you were in charge and let you do whatever you wanted. You began to kiss his neck softly as he whimpered near your ear.

"I fucking love you." He whispered to you and you choked him harder, his head rolling backwards as he moaned.

"I know you do, Angel," You licked the lobe of his ear and heard his breath shudder slightly. "If you ever talk to me like that again, I will never touch you like this ever again." You withdrew your touch from him and he nodded, you slapped him and raised your eyebrow.

"Y-yes I understand." He whispered looking up at you adoringly and you smiled.

Helping him get his knees out of the uncomfortable position and be straight out in front of him you sat on his lap and kissed his forehead "I love you." He told you and you believed him, he trusted you so deeply.

"Now come here." You gently pulled his head to lean on your chest as he wrapped his arms tightly around you and started crying softly, you could tell how remorseful he felt and how much he regretted what he had done.

"I'm staying with you tomorrow." Ivar whispered against your breasts and you smiled, stroking his hair slowly.

”*°•.˜”*°•˜”*°•.˜”*°•. .•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜

AN: I'm very happy to do more Ivar imagines if anyone wants any. I haven't written Vikings in like three years but still adore it xx

[starogeorgina]

Tattered hears

Warning: Smut, hints of abusive marriage, cheating, swearing

Pairing: Ubbe × reader

1.01

The snap of a branch caught your attention. He was getting closer. You still made your movements, knowing if you made any noise, he’d hear you. You try to hear what direction the footsteps have gone, but the forest goes completely silent. You loved this little game of cat and mouse, you being the helpless prey and…

“Ubbe!” You squeal when he pounces from behind and pushes you forward into a tree.

You press your palms against the tree and arch your back so it’s not touching the rest of your body. Your breath hitches as the cool night air nips at your bare skin and as your lover's hand grazes against the back of your legs, then your ass cheek. He palms your ass with one hand, then another, snaking around your front to squeeze at your jaw, slipping his fingers into your mouth for you to suck on. After a moment, Ubbe lets go of you to lower his trousers enough for his cock to spring free. He rubs his cock against your cunt, which was still dripping from the previous orgasm he gave you from his mouth. He pounds into you roughly, one hand resting on the tree for balance and the other groping at your breast.

You hold your breath, waiting to see if he notices.

Ubbe abruptly spins you around so your back presses against the tree. The look on his face was hard to read. He lifts you, slides back into you, and pulls down the front of your dress so your heavy breasts are out and swaying with each thrust. Ubbe’s eyes widen as he rubs his thumb over your hard nipple. He lifts his head up to meet your gaze with a wicked grin on his face. “You are with the child again.”

“Y—yes.”

His cock reaches the sweet, soft spot that drives you crazy. You dig your fingers into the back of his neck, savoring the moment. It had been months since you last had him alone, and you weren’t sure when you’d be able to do this again. The bark from the tree scratches you, but it only adds to the thrill of fucking him when you shouldn’t be.

“Is it—”

“It’s your baby, Ubbe,” you say before clashing your lips against his.

He smiles into the kiss and says, “How many children must I give you before your husband notices, hmm?”

Muffled moans fall from your lips; you’re so lost in pleasure that it’s hard to form a sentence. You wrap your arms around Ubbe's, holding him close as he continues to thrust into you until he cums. When he’s recovered from his orgasm, he pulls out and gently places you back on the ground, then falls to his knees. Holding your skirts up, he licks at your clit until you come shaking and crying his name.

As Ubbe fixes your skirt, you catch your breath. He smirks while kissing your clothed body, breathing in your scent until he reaches your chest. He brushes his nose against yours while his fingers fix you back into the top of your dress. He raises his brows and says, “This won’t fit soon. You’ll need to size up to make space for your bump.”

“I know.”

“Does he know?”

You shrug. “I’m unsure; he doesn’t pay much attention.”

Ødger, your husband was almost loved as much as Ragner himself. He was known as a fierce warrior and was old enough to be your father. He was well respected within Kattegat by most, aside from Ubbe and his brothers. They saw who Ødger really was; the only reason they hadn’t killed him was because their mother, Aslaug, the queen of Kattegat, made them promise not to.

“When can I see you again?” You ask. After almost getting caught having sex by Bjorn, you decided to keep a distance between you to throw off any suspicions, but it was hard. Your sneaking around had started as one friend helping another, and now you were in love with someone who wasn’t your husband.

“Tomorrow,” he says, fixing himself back into his trousers. “Me and my brother are going fishing. I could take the boys with us; I get to spend time with them and see you without raising any suspicion.”

“Okay, I look forward to it.”

“I don’t know how long I can keep doing this,” he sighs. Ubbe presses his forehead against yours and says, “Leave with me.”

Your heart hammers in your chest. “What?”

“Leave Kattegat with me. We can take the boys and go.” Seeing you look hesitant, Ubbe places your hand on his chest, right above where his heart is. “You love me. I’m the father of your children, not him.”

“Ubbe…”

“Egil and Kåre are my blood, and they should be raised as such.”

Tears swell in your eyes. “Ubbe, please, we had an agreement.”

“What if I told you I wanted to end it? That I want more.” He kisses you passionately. “Elli, I would treat you right; I would give you everything you want.”

You married Ødger too young. And when you failed to fall pregnant, he became violent. The only person you shared the fear of not having children with was Ubbe. Wanting to help you, Ubbe suggested you sleep together until you were with the child. By the age of fifteen, you gave birth to your first child, Egil, and two years later, you gave birth to Kåre. Now, seven years after your secret relationship started, you are pregnant again. Throughout the years, you had hidden the way Ødger treated you, but as your sons got older, you feared for their safety.

“I’m scared,” you admit.

“If you stay with him, I’ll watch over you and the boys from a distance, but I cannot continue doing this. It’s becoming too hard; watching you fake a happy life with someone who doesn’t deserve you is painful for me. Leave Kattegat with me; we can come back one day.”

“What about your mother?”

“My brothers can protect her without me for a few years.”

Looking into Ubbe’s blue eyes, you knew what your decision would be. “I’ll go with you; as long as you promise me, you’ll always keep Egil and Kåre safe from Ødger.”

“I promise.”

—

Your day had gone well; your sons had gone fishing with Ubbe and Hvitzerk. Your eldest Egil was incredibly proud to present you with what he caught. You prepared the meal alone so it would be done faster, promising to show them how to gut a fish the next day. Aslaug had asked you to make her three new dresses in a short space of time. You still needed to collect more plants for dyes and more wool to turn into yarn.

Hearing Ødger’s voice, you told your boys to play outside but not to go off far. Ødger stands behind you, watching as you clean food off the table. He grunts, “We have thrall’s for that.”

“I don’t mind.”

Your husband pushes himself up behind you, causing you to scrunch up your face. Even the mere touch of him caused your skin to crawl. He brushes his mouth against the back of your neck. “I heard Ragnar’s sons were here earlier.”

“They took Egil and Kåre fishing.” You say. Ubbe had briefly discussed the plan he had made for you to leave together when Hvitzerk appeared, cutting the conversation short. Feeling your husbands hands start to grope at your body, you push him away and say, “Ødger, stop.”

“Stop?”

“I’m not in the mood for… that.”

“What?” He frowns.

“I don’t feel well,” you say, trying to walk by him.

Furious, he grabs hold of your wrist to stop you from leaving. “Is it not a wife’s job to please her husband?” When you don’t answer him, his grip tightens. “Speak woman!”

“I don’t feel well because I am with a child.”

Kåre runs inside, interrupting Ødger before he can reply. “Mother, Queen Aslaug is outside.”

Aslaug walks into your home with a smile plastered across her face while holding Egil’s hand. You were convinced she knew the truth about your son's parentage but would never ask. “I just came by to see how the dresses were coming along.” She walks closer to you and says, “My sons told me the good news.”

“My apologies; I haven’t finished the dresses yet.”

She gives you a knowing look, then politely talks to Ødger, but he quickly leaves. When he is gone, Aslaug mumbles something to herself and places her hand on your stomach, her smile fading as she does.

“What’s wrong?”

“I am told very little, but I know everything,” she says quietly. “And I know leaving Kattegat isn’t in your future.”

[axelsagewrites]

Bjorn Ironside*Captured

Pairing: bjorn x f!rival!reader

Kinktober Day nineteen: choking with Bjorn Ironside – you may have been captured by the enemies, but the punishment Bjorn gives you is starting to feel like a reward

Word count: 1818

Warnings: bjorn capturing you, imprisonment, fighting/sparing, not extreme violence though, making out, fingering, very slight nipple play, semi public sex, p in v sex, choking, teasing, size kink, smut 18+

Masterlist Here

Kinktober List Here

You could feel his eyes on you, but you refused to turn around and meet them. His feet dragged against the dry dirt ground till he was able to lean his tree trunk of a body against a wall, his gaze still hot on your skin.

“Well, well, well,” his lips taunted, and it took everything in you not to try kick at him but with your hands tied behind your back you knew it was a lost cause. Maybe if you managed to grab his axe but no, not yet “What do we have here?” you could hear his feet begin to drag again.

The tree was hard against your back, inescapable with how they had bound your wrists behind your back before leashing you to its trunk. As Bjorn walked to stand in front of you, your eyes moved to look at an empty patch of ground, his boots in the corner of your eyes.

“My, my, your quiet now little one,” his voice gritted through your ears like a father taunting his child. He even crouched down as if to speak to one, his elbows resting on his knees as his eyes bore into your skull, “Too afraid to even look at me,”

“I’m not afraid of you,” you spat out before you could think. A small chuckle escaped his throat, “Your men fight dirty,”

“My men fight like men,” he said, as if he’d called the sky blue, “Not my fault you weren’t good enough,”

“Five men against one? Hardly seems fair,” you laughed, finally meeting his cold blue eyes. “Especially when they come into my tent when even the moon had left the sky,”

“You should have had someone on guard,” he said, standing up as if he was going to walk away.

You scoffed at his antics making him pause, “You ambushed me. Me against you? I’d be gone before you found where I stuck my knife,”

Bjorn laughed this time, a deep laugh from the pits of his belly as he sauntered back to you, “Really little bird? You think you could fight me? Me?” he repeated, gesturing to himself as he laughed which only made the fire in your belly grow hotter, “Tell you what little one. I untie you, we fight, I win, I tie you back up assuming you’re not dead by the end of it,”

You rolled your eyes as he crouched back down in front of you, “And if I win?”

“If you win,” he said, gesturing out with his hands as he looked around, “you are free. I will give you whatever it is your little heart desires,” he said, poking his finger into your chest prompting you to kick his knee to push him away.

Bjorn scowled as he caught his balance, standing over you like a hundred-year-old tree. His scowl would scare most but you just glared up at him, waiting for him to untie you, “Do we have a deal? Or do I need to fight you with no hands?” you asked, cutting off his scowl.

Silently he moved behind you, slicing the ropes making you jump to your feet, turning to face him, “My weapon?” you asked, holding out your hand.

Bjorn smirked, “I said nothing about a weapon little one,” he said before lunging at you.

While Bjorn was large and could probably split someone in half if he wished you were fast. So fast you dodged his lunge, his punches, and his kicks. As he ran at you again you ducked under his arm, running to a nearby branch. You took hold of the cold wood in your hand, pulling yourself up then swinging yourself back, kicking him full force in the chest as he ran for you again.

He was sent spiralling to the ground, a loud thump echoing his fall as a low growl came from his throat. The only thing you’d commend him on is the fact he’d yet to reach for his axe. As he ran for you again you almost got past. That was till his hand caught your hair, sending you spiralling towards the ground.

You rolled out of the fall, an ache coming from your head, but you had to keep going. You grabbed another branch, almost ready to kick again when a large hand wrapped around your ankle. You couldn’t help the squeal as Bjorn pulled you from the tree, sending you back to the dirt, this time moving to cage you in with his arms as he hovered on top of you.

“Your quick,” he panted, trying to catch his breath, “I’ll give you that. But not quick enough,” he teased, leaning down with a smirk.

When you tried to move his large hand wrapped around your neck, gripping the sides of your throat, “I’m not done with you little one,”

“What?” you spat, your hand grabbing at his wrist, “You gonna kill me? Seems like a waste of a good fight,”

“Oh no,” he said, his face moving down even closer, “I had a much better idea in mind,” he said, his hand moving from your throat to your hair, pulling your face up till your lips were brushing, “After all we have a lot in common you and I,” he said, his lips ghosting over yours.

“Like what?” you spat, trying to act like there was not a strange feeling washing over your stomach like butterflies in a cage.

Bjorn chuckled softly, “Like the fact all you can think about is me fucking you senseless,” he teased and for the first time you felt your throat grow dry and the words leave your mind, “Aw cat caught your tongue again? Let’s see if I can find it,” he said and before you could react his lips were pressed against yours.

His kiss was rough, and his chapped lips moved against yours in their own kind of battle. You couldn’t help but kiss back. You told yourself this was for survival, to escape, but the pang between your legs knew it was more than that as your arms reached up around his shoulders to pull him closer.

Bjorn groaned as he grinded his bulge against you and you gasped into the kiss at his size, “What’s wrong little one? Never been with a real man?” he teased.

“Shut up and kiss me you idiot,” you said, reaching for the nape of his neck to pull him back in but you gasped when his hand went back around your throat, “I- “

“No,” Bjorn said, cutting off your stutters as his hand reached for the waist band of your trousers, “I am in charge. Me,” he said, ripping the fabric down your leg, his hand still grasping your throat, “You don’t tell me what to do, got it?” he asked, and you did your best to nod without tightening his grip.

His grip loosened slightly, allowing you to breath in deeper but still enough to hold you down as his fingers slipped between your thighs. “So wet for me,” he praised, running a finger up your slit making you shiver.

You gasped when you felt his ease two fingers in, your hips instinctively bucking for more friction as Bjorn chuckled at your antics, “Such a desperate little thing,” he said, his lips crashing back down on yours as his fingers began to curl inside you. you moaned into the kiss as he moved his thumb over your clit, massaging your bundle of nerves as he fucked you on his fingers.

Bjorn enjoyed each noise, each whimper and whine, as his fingers worked slowly to untie the knot building in your stomach. Just as your body began to twitch, on the verge of your peak his fingers slipped out, a loud whine coming from your throat, “Not yet,” he warned, pulling his own trousers down slightly, “You’ve not earned it yet,” he said as he slipped his hard cock out from the fabric.

You only saw it for a moment, but it was thick, its tip red and angry as he moved to line himself up with your hole. He pushed it in slightly as you bite your lip to deal with the girth stretching you out. It was almost a relief when he pulled it out but less so when a loud tear ripped through the air, and you saw he had torn your top layer to get to your shift. You scowled as he pulled the flimsy fabric down, exposing your breasts to the cold air making your nipples perk up instantly.

He cupped your breast, his thumb flicking against your nub making you bite back a moan, “Such a pretty sight,” he praised, “Can’t make you fall apart you around my cock,” he added, thrusting in suddenly making you gasp as you stretched to take his size.

His eyes screwed shut as he sunk his length in, his head falling into the crook of his shoulder, “Feels so good,” he mumbled, his grip around your throat tightening as he began slow deep thrusts making your toes curl, your hands moving to grip his shoulders, nails sinking into back.

“Fuck,” you cursed, wrapping your legs round his waist making him hit new spots as your eyes rolled back, your peak quickly rebuilding.

His hand slipped between your body, his grip on your throat lessening slightly as his fingers found your clit, rubbing harsh circles on the sensitive bud. You didn’t care who might walk by or try disguise the moans coming from your mouth as you finally hit your peak you’d desperately been chasing. You felt your walls squeeze around him, your toes curling, as your orgasm washed over your body like a tidal wave.

“Fuck,” Bjorn muttered, his hand moving from between your bodies to beside your head. He pushed himself further up, his eyes scanning your frame as his thrusts suddenly sped up. You gasped, still riding out your orgasm as his pace sped up as his eyes focused on your bouncing tits, “Such a pretty little thing,” he grunted, “so fucking tight,” he gasped as your legs pulled him in deeper and he saw a new spark behind your eyes.

It didn’t take long for his own peak to hit and his seed to spill inside you. gasping and panting he let go of your neck, instead using his hands to steady himself above you as his eyes met yours, “Be honest,” he said, his voice hoarse, “you were planning on running when I’d finished weren’t you?” he asked.

You couldn’t help smiling lightly, a chuckle leaving your lips, “Maybe we are alike,” you teased, glancing down at the state you were in, “but I’m afraid I don’t think I could run if I tried,”

“Good,” Bjorn said, leaning down to place a last rough kiss to your lips, “I have far better plans for us,”

[ubbesbabymama]

Björn Ironside falling first.

↳ Pairing. Bjorn Ironside.

↳ Summary. Headcanons on Bjorn falling for you first and hard.

↳ Warnings. It has a NSFW part because we have seen it in the show, he can’t keep it in his pants.

↳ Note. I think by now is quite obvious that I write confident and powerful readers lmaoo.

The day he met you he knew that he will do everything in his power and more to make you his.

And although he is certain that you hate his ass and anything that has to do with him, he still greets you with a flirty smirk every time he passes you.

What he doesn’t know it’s that it’s just your personality that it’s pretty quiet for a Viking.

You also don’t want to be associated with him the same day you meet him. He can at least wait some more.

His way of courting you is by acting out of character since he doesn’t know how to even get on your good side.

When there are meetings to discuss what to do with the settlement he has on different lands, he asks for you to sit by his side even though you’re not his right hand.

On raids, he orders for your tent to be right by his tent and he may or may not have the order to change your furs for his, so you can be more comfortable.

When there’s a feast, he orders you to sit by his side on the throne and although you hate it, you do so since he’s the king.

“Are you enjoying the night, Y/N?” He will murmur right onto your ear.

“I would enjoy it a little more if I was at the table with the other shield-maiden.” You say, your tone is not harsh but it’s not flirty like his.

“You know that you can go, you are a free woman.” He smirks, his stare lowering to your cleavage.

“So you can go and sit there by my side, making all the women uncomfortable since you had sex with half of them?” You ask with a smile, and he shrugs humming.

“I can’t deny or confirm that.”

“Right.”

He gets jealous every time he sees one of his men talking to you. Not because of the talking, no, but because you're smiling at them.

“You never smile at me.” Like he always does, he murmurs into your ear, standing so close behind you that his chest is pressed to your back.

“Why would I?” You hum.

“You should, don’t you think?” He whispers, caressing your neck with his nose.

“I’ll try.” And like always, you left him hanging and start walking.

The moment when he feels as if you don’t hate him that much is when he is wounded in a fight and you lose your cool, running to his side and taking care of the five men that got him to that state. After that you don’t let nobody get close to him, making it your job to clean his wounds every day and heal him.

It was in that moment where you let your walls down and he can see right through your acts that you want him just as much as he wants you. So he grabs you by the neck and kisses you hard.

That’s the start of your relationship with Björn Ironside.

Now, you don’t change that much towards him, except that now he can touch you and kiss you. And that he does a lot, he does not care if you’re alone or if there are people around.

Because you have been a witness of two of his marriages when you were still training to be a shield-maiden you are always alert. Always with the thought at the back of your mind that one day you will find him cheating.

So imagine your surprise when you come home from training with the new shield maiden and find him touching himself and moaning your name.

“Mhm, I see you’ve started without me.” You murmur, leaning on the doorframe. He looks up and bites his lower lip.

“Today I can’t stop the craving of being inside you and you weren’t here,” He says in a rush, he makes space for you on the bed. “Come please, make a mess of me.”

NSFW properly.

He thought he will have you in the palm of his hand the moment he beds you. Oh, how wrong he was.

He gets addicted to you as we just saw before the nsfw cut. He wants to go at it at all times.

You are going to take a bath? Let him join you and ride him until the tub gets empty from all the movements.

You are healing his wounds? Ride him slowly because it hurts him more not being inside you.

You’re sitting by his side on the throne? Let him touch your chest discretely.

He is insatiable.

The good thing? You are too and that plays a big part in his addiction.

He adores to see you rolling your eyes to the back of your head when he rolls his hips, he adores to hear you beg for him to breed you, to make you his, how can he not be addicted to you?

He absolutely adores when you start the deed, which is usually by dismissing everybody in the great hall and then getting naked in front of him. He makes you ride him right there and then.

It’s safe to say that he does not get bored of you and you ended up being his last wife.

[ritual-unions]

Gatekeeper

Pairing: Ubbe x OFC

Warnings: NSFW, explicit

Word count: 4k

Setting: season 6ish, Kattegat

Summary: Ubbe is forced to punish his Sami consort when she mistakenly reveals the secret entrance into Kattegat to the enemy.

Also known as sex-on-a-throne cause I can.

Notes: I had to let this live somewhere other than Ao3, enjoy. This was all the fault of the follow gif, my mind went straight to the gutter.

He did not want to do it like this. To pass judgment on her in front of so many people. Now he was being forced to address the situation immediately when he would have preferred to do it in the privacy of their room.

Hvitserk was mostly to blame for it.

His brother should have known better than to bring her before him so publicly, but Hvitserk had never known patience. Especially not when the drums of battle were so close at hand.

There were few people in the great hall. Warriors made their reports while thralls and maids scurried back and forth from the kitchen as they tried to keep bellies full and fires stoked. Laughter rippled through the hall when a thrall tripped a clay cup clattering to the floor. In a corner, where a group of men lounged, an arm wrestling match was in the works. Anything to distract from the crusade that waited outside the gates. They were searching for someone bold enough to test their beefy-armed contender. Goading a man into joining as he walked passed.

Ubbe sat on top of the throne, listening, watching, waiting until the time for action came. Leaning back, he mulled over the different outcomes of the battle as he shifted on the throne’s hard seat, having already lost and won a thousand battles by the time the sun had set. Soon it would be time to retire for the night. He longed to ease against the feather pillows that littered his bed, in the hopes it would relieve his aching back, though he did not imagine sleep would come easy for him.

As they came through the doors he caught sight of her hair first. A glowing white that cast an aura around her wherever she went. Even on the darkest winter days he could find her. He sat up a little straighter. Grimaced at her disheveled state.

They had bound her hands, which Ubbe deemed an unnecessary gesture. She was no shieldmaiden, as she could hardly hold a fishing spear without maiming herself or others. Yet, the purple bruise forming on the corner of Hvitserk’s lip and the angry red scratches across his cheek showed she had not gone without a fight.

Her defiance had seemingly sparked a deep-seated habit out of Hvitserk that Ubbe typically witnessed on the battlefield. Berserkr. That wild glint in his eye and the bemused smile on his lips all signaled Hvitserk’s insensible state as he dragged her before Ubbe.

A heavy sigh pushed out of Ubbe’s nose when she ripped her arm out of Hvitserk’s grip and turned on her heel to snarl at him. Laughter bubbled out of his brother’s throat while he reached for her again. Fingers digging into her arms he spun her to face Ubbe effortlessly. Amusement tickled Hvitserk’s mouth when she struggled against his excessive force.

He didn’t know whose name to call out. Both wore the matching look of a petulant child.

“Ver.”

Her name was thick on his tongue. The nickname was reserved for the quiet moments hidden away under the covers of the bed. She sneered at him, and turned her ire to Hvitserk instead.

“Let go of me,” hissed Verdandi over her shoulder, “you oaf!”

She shook as she all but growled. Attempting to thrash her weight back against him, hoping to throw him off balance. All to his brother’s amusement. Cracking laughter shot out of Hvitserk’s throat. He was enjoying her struggle a little too much. Quick as a viper he pulled her in closer, just to annoy her that much more. His arm wrapped around her chest holding her flush against him. A grin curled on Hvitserk’s mouth as their cheeks touched.

“Hvitserk,” Ubbe called out his name in a low warning.

He did not need this situation any more heightened than it already was. Bright green eyes briefly met him. No longer were they irritated by the incursion of drugs and alcohol. These days, Hvitserk wore the blessing of the gods that often moved him into a different kind of altered state. Ubbe had yet to understand the change.

“Release her,” he commanded, running a hand along his face.

He would never hear the end of this.

A smile tickled the corner of Hvitserk’s mouth. Of course he was laughing silently at him. Ubbe would have his hands full with her. With a brief bow of his head, he snapped the ties with a swipe of his knife. He stepped back in a hurry as if he was trying to get away from the wildling before she attacked.

Deliberately she assessed the red welts where the ties had rubbed her skin raw. Rubbing her wrists tenderly before lifting her gaze to Ubbe. “I did nothing wrong,” she said evenly as if there was nothing more to be discussed.

Teeth clenched, he shook his head. He was well in his right to be upset with her. He had warned her not to go the night before. Telling her that if she did not listen he would not be held responsible for the results of her behavior.

“You disobeyed me, Verdandi.”

“He is my brother.”

It was a plea to reason, especially when her eyes darted to Hvitserk. What would you do for this brother, she silently demanded.

He licked his lips. Anything. For Hvitserk. Bjorn. Even Sigurd, long passed. Ivar, however, was a different matter.

“What did he say?”

A shake of her head, so small he might not have seen it if he had not known her every mannerism by heart. Her eyes were cast to the ground. It seemed her older brother had not changed.

“Torfinn will not see reason.”

His mouth twitched in agitation. Negotiations had long since passed. Torfinn craved violence. As volatile as Ivar, he would not listen to his sniveling younger sister when she begged him to go home.

“He said he will burn down the hall.” She scowled at the thought of her brother. “With you in it.”

“Yes,” he sneered.

No doubt Torfinn believed such claims. He, however, believed in his own preparations. He trusted the walls Lagertha had raised and Ivar had strengthened. Most of all, he relied on his warriors and shieldmaidens whose love for Kattegat ran as deep as his family’s roots.

“He followed her.” Torvi announced, half hidden by a pillar. She had slipped through the doors quietly enough that he hadn’t noticed her presence until she spoke. “He followed her right to The Tree.”

The willow tree that marked the hidden entrance through the city’s walls.

He licked his lips to keep himself from lashing out. She had put them all in danger with her secret sleuthing. It had not truly mattered that she hadn’t listened to him when he had warned her not to go to her brother. He had forbidden her to go because he did not want to witness her pain afterward when she realized her attempt at discourse was a fool’s errand. In hindsight, he should have let her go to Torfinn with armed guards or an escort.

He could not worry about what he should have done. He had to focus on the now. How to fix the problem at hand. And how to properly deal with her folly. This was no longer just about him. It involved all of Kattegat, and he would have to act accordingly.

He found Hvitserk’s gaze for confirmation. A slight nod of his brother’s head was all he needed. He gritted his teeth as he considered his next action.

Torvi was quick to the draw. She whipped across the room and shoved at Verdandi’s back, causing her to stumble. A childish gesture. His gritted teeth pulled into a snarl, fingers curling around the armrest.

A few of the onlookers gasped, but the other half appeared pleased. They had not collectively accepted her presence, especially now that her brother threatened their livelihoods.

“On your knees.” He could barely hear Torvi above the rising murmuring of the crowd. She had pushed Verdandi off-center to the ground, but Verdandi did not fight her. She lowered her head at Torvi’s next words instead. “Don’t you know where your place is?”

An onlooker spit, his cud barely missing Verdandi’s feet. “Sami scum,” the man cursed.

Ubbe blew out the heat of his anger through his nose. It was growing more difficult with each moment that passed to stay impartial.

“Torvi.”

He said her name once, low, the only warning she would get. She was his sister by marriage, queen when his brother sat the throne. He would not let her have her say now, not today. He would not allow her to treat the people he had promised to protect so cruelly. Verdandi had lived in Kattegat with the Sami longer than she had and was deserving of a proper trial.

“Take men to secure the area.” Ubbe nodded to Hvitserk, ignoring the insolent townsman who sneered at Verdandi.

“Leave,” he added, looking at Torvi who seemed to be contemplating further provocation. Annoyance passed over her features, but she said nothing as she left the hall. The heels of her shoes against the wooden floorboards formed the only sound in the sudden silence. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Everyone.”

The silence deepened further.

He sat back in his seat. The corners of his nose twitched when no one moved. He raised his chin to assess the crowd. If anyone had anything to say against his order, let them say it now.

A slight shifting stirred the crowd when no one protested and slowly they removed themselves from the hall. Even the guards and thralls had left.

They were alone.

“Ubbe,” she breathed in a sigh of relief, shifting back on her heels to stand.

“No.” He pointed to the ground, back to her position. “You will stay.”

He was bitter. She had disobeyed him. Openly. For all to see.

He had asked her not to go. And then there had been that damn glint in her eyes, that same one that sparked in his brothers any time he tried to lead their hand. After they had supper, he had told her not to go.

No, he had commanded it. As king.

Pseudo king, she had shrugged her shoulders in indifference. Bjorn had been gone for over a year, sailing across oceans only the gods knew the names to. There was no promise he would return.

He would have chained her to the bedpost had he not been certain she would howl like a banshee the entire night.

“I had no choice.”

He grimaced, shaking his head. Every free man and woman had a choice. He sat on this throne for his brother, not because he had to but because he had chosen to. He could be sailing to this Iceland Floki spoke of, or to grander places yet uncovered, but he had chosen to put Kattegat’s needs above his own. He would suffer the results of his decision.

She had chosen to disobey him.

Nodding at her, he asked, “what will your punishment be?” He rolled his eyes as her mouth snapped open, attempting to talk back and say something coy that would only further annoy him. Now was not her moment to speak. “You put the lives of others at risk with your choices. They are my responsibility.” Pointing at her, he finished a little more sternly. “You won’t leave this hall until we agree on a suitable punishment.”

A scowl furrowed her brows while her lips pouted in obvious protest. It stirred him, just slightly so that he was forced to adjust his seat.

Her brow raised in his direction, looking at him the same way she had a hundred nights before. The same look with which she had pleaded for his forgiveness the time they had escaped the drudges of Kattegat for the hunting cabin, high up on the mountains. She had scared away every animal he had attempted to hunt with her incessant singing. Songs that reminded him of his childhood and made him think of his future had alerted any deer or turkey in the surrounding area of their presence. That night they ate a sad collection of wild vegetables he had found on the long walk back to the cabin and by luck a small hare, whose den he had accidentally stumbled across. She had come to him, eyes soft and pleading, begging for forgiveness. Naked and wet and willing to do anything to gain his absolution. She had whispered praise in his ear while the hearthfire crackled beyond her and the wind howled with an oncoming storm. Even now, as he thought back to it, he could still feel the heat on his thighs as she lowered herself down on him. His nostrils still filled with the smell of rain as it seeped into the earth and through the cracks in the walls of the old cabin.

The look on her face was smug. She always got what she wanted. A smile curled onto his lips at the thought. They could come to an agreement, one made between lovers, but not until she suffered first.

She moved to stand.

He grunted, flicking his chin. Crawl, he mouthed, pointing to the space before him.

She frowned but sank back to the ground, crawling to him until she was snug between his legs. Eyes searching, she waited for his next command.

He might have left her there, situated perfectly between his legs, begging for him to make the next move.

Fingers strumming across the armrest, he settled at the sight before him. He had never possessed restraint when it came to his desire for her. Stretching out, he rolled his hips towards her. Lashes fluttering, she took in his growing bulge before her eyes traveled up to meet his gaze. He almost came undone then. His mouth twitched as he tried to control his baser instincts, fighting against the urge to grab the back of her neck and bury her face in his crotch.

Timidly she reached out and let her hands run along his thighs. She kept her gaze trained on his, waiting for him to stop her. To call it all off. Undoubtedly she thought that the people of Kattegat could demand entrance back into the great hall to see how their king punished a Sami traitor.

He knew the townspeople had all gone home. Home to protect their families and the houses they had built from the ground up, kept now for generations. Home to ready their defenses against a possible attack. Now was the time to kiss their loved ones. Tomorrow, if they survived, would be a moment to question what had happened to the traitor.

For a moment he would let fear move her toward him, until she too knew what it meant to make sacrifices that were beyond basic wants.

He said nothing, watching as her fingers fumbled over the laces of his pants. Tugging the strings loose, his cock sprung free.

She gripped him around the base in a practiced motion, sliding along the length. He groaned, letting his head roll back slightly.

Warm lips replaced her grasp on him. She swallowed him whole, lips soft around the root. Hot breath through her nose stirred the pubic hairs at his base. Patiently she tried to find her threshold until she gagged. He smoothed a hand down the crown of her head. Slowly she moved back to the tip, licking and slurping all the way up.

His fingers curled tight in her hair as she lowered herself again, this time going a little deeper. Her gaze caught on him. She smiled around his cock when she added a hand, lightly tugging on his balls.

“You’re going to be,” his teeth clenched as he worked his jaw, “the death of me,” he murmured as he pressed her head back down.

Verdandi hummed happily, thrumming a vibration that tightened his core. He let her stay between his legs for a moment longer, catching his breath as he grew used to the sensation and set her pace for her.

“You’d like that?” Threading his thumb around her ear down to her chin, he tilted her head back. She smiled lazily, lips swollen and red, and nodded. His eyes fluttered closed briefly and then he tugged on her elbow, pulling her up decisively. “Not until I make you scream.”

Lifting up her skirts, she straddled his lap. Her nipples were hard beneath her bodice. Ubbe wanted to see her, feel her fully. He found the laces at the back of her dress, ripping at them until he was able to pull the fabric down her shoulders.

Wiggling out the sleeves of her dress, she wrapped her arms around his neck. Her hips rolled on top of his, letting him brush against her dripping folds. His fingers dug into her fleshy sides while he urged her to settle on top of him. Rolling his eyes, he let out a huff of breath as she ground deeper against him and let her weight tease him instead.

His hands slipped between her thighs, coaxing her forward with a passing swipe. She faltered at the sensation and he took the moment to grab the base of his cock, aligning himself to her entrance.

She eased herself down slowly, taking her time. He grunted in frustration. The only punishment occuring was the slow wait to fully engorge. He pushed away the bulk of her skirts, wanting to witness Ver as she stretched across him. Kneading the inside of her thigh, he encouraged her down further.

Her breathing hitched and she leaned forward. Resting against her head against his, she adjusted. He growled, no longer able to wait. He gripped her hips tight and rolled his pelvis upward, watching as she gasped and then bit down on her lip to stop her shuddering breath.

He reached out as she gradually took up the pace, brushing against the lines of her collarbone and then across her sternum. The weight of her breast in his hand was comforting enough to make Ubbe forget his duty, lost in the depth of her body, focusing on nothing other than the way she rode him and swayed into his touch. His fingers brushed across the surface of her nipple. He relished how her lips parted in a soft sigh. He pinched and tugged, watching each twitch and tremor of her mouth as he played with her.

Ver had found her rhythm despite his distracting touch. Slow and steady she rocked her hips against his. Gritting his teeth, he buried his head in her shoulder.

She pushed away her skirts so that she was able to find her clit. Ubbe grunted, replacing her hand with his own. He would be the one who dished out her pleasure.

She tightened around him as he brushed the swollen nub with his thumb. She moaned, a pathetic mewling sound. The first sign of her impending release, but he would hold it all in the palm of his hand. He would give and take as he saw fit. The same way she had seen fit to disobey his orders. Ubbe would watch her tremble under his touch. Her orgasm would be his own. He would make sure of that.

Gasping, she buried her head in the crook of his shoulder, breathing out the heat of her pleasure.

His free hand smoothed across the expanse of her thigh and curved around her ass. He brought her in closer. His arm wrapped around her waist, needing to feel her body flush against his. Her pace was faltering with each ruthless slide across her clit, but he held her steady. Flicking up his hips, taking control, he would have her whimpering by the time he was done with her.

She clawed at his shirt, mewling softly in his ear. “Please,” she begged him.

He grunted. He shouldn’t let her beg and take away the one thing he could control. Yet she pressed closer against his chest. Ubbe grimaced at the way her folds hugged him and claimed him deeper inside her. He had no control when it came to her.

He teased her a bit more, easing his touch until it was light as a feather.

“Ubbe,” she sobbed, breath hot against his ear. “Please.”

It was mostly silent in the throne room, aside from the sound of the crackling hearth fires and the occasional clatter from the kitchen far off. The heat of their bodies poured out into each other. They huffed hot breaths against the other’s skin, careful not to draw any extra attention from the thralls that were certainly standing with their ears to the door or a stray resident curious to see how their king punished the Sami stranger.

His finger curled up her neck, carding through her hair. He tugged until her neck stretched and he could look her in the eyes, locking her there as he drank her in. She was tantalizing. A sheen of sweat radiated the roundness of her cheeks, while the fires in the sconces cast a glow around her head that was otherworldly. The well-built defensive she often kept hard in her eyes slipped to a look so salacious he could not look away. She was meant to sit on a throne, next to him.

He would have fucked her on that seat every day until he was sure she was satiated.

He dug his fingers deeper into her fleshy bottom, bringing her closer, deeper than before.

“Please.” She nipped at his lips and drew him back to the room. “My king.”

He laughed under his breath, head rolling back against the headboard of the throne. His mouth quirked into a smile. Flicking his hips into her, he keenly touched her clit until she was gasping and clutching onto his shirt. A fierce blush crept up her chest and neck. Shamelessly he watched each shuttering breath out of her parted lips, enjoying her undoing by his hand.

Her folds tightened around him. A fluttering pulse. His fingers wrapped around her neck. Her skin was hot and clammy under his touch. Her long thick hair curled wildly around his hold. He kept her tight in her place as he held off, waiting until he saw that peak glimmer across her features. One last thrust. He pulled on her hair, wanting to see her face as she rode the waves of her orgasm. A shuttering jolt of his hips answered her. He locked her flush against him as his hot seed spurted into her womb.

Panting, he caught his breath then found her mouth, kissing her hard. He relished the taste of her and how she nuzzled her cheek against his. Untangling his hand from her hair, he ran it across the back of her head. He pulled her in until she was nestled into the corner of his neck, as if she had always belonged here, safely tucked away in this warm spot. Her lips pressed a smiling kiss against his neck and then to his cheek. She stole another quick kiss against his lips before rolling off his softening length.

He adjusted himself back into his trousers, watching languidly as she pulled the sleeves of her dress over her shoulders. He stood and helped her tighten the ties of her dress along her back. It was a slow process, as his earlier urgency had pulled some loose from their fastenings. Pressing his lips against the curve of her neck, he murmured that he would see her some time later that night.

“Where are you going?” She demanded.

“To see what damage you have done,” he said over his shoulder as he stepped down the dais. He turned to drink her in, a vision standing amongst the matching thrones. He smiled, adding on, “to see if your punishment was sufficient.”

Ubbe laughed under his breath at her scoff. “We will find out in the morning if I have to bend you over my knee next time.”

****

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[miss-madness67]

Married Woman (Ivar & Bjorn)

You find yourself attracted to a man that is not your husband. Worst of all, he loves you too.

The first time you saw him, you were instantly drawn to him. It was not because he is a son of Ragnar, you didn’t even know at the beginning. It was all himself. His broad shoulders and his blue eyes were quick to hypnotize you. The next thing you knew, you were in his bed. You could easily say that night was one of the best you spent with him. From then on, your relationship moved quite fast. He wanted to marry you, and you didn’t oppose. You married at Hedeby, his mother’s domain. You met him there when he came back from avenging his father in England. Your family just moved to the town in hopes to marry you. They were not disappointed when Bjorn Ironside took you as his. Not that you were complaining. Marrying a prince was more than you were expecting, considering that your parents are farmers.

“It’s really hard to be here and look at you, as though I’m not completely in love with you.”

The thread you were knitting breaks when you hear Ivar behind you. You stand up and turn to face him. He is by the door that leads to the hall. You take a quick look around the resting room, you are lucky it’s empty right now.

“Ivar, you know you can not say those things.” You scold, looking directly at him.

His gaze is so intense you have to look back at your knitting. You are making a robe for Bjorn. Lately, he has been a little distant. You think it is perhaps because you have yet to get pregnant. Yet, considering that you have not slept together in two weeks, it is a little hard to do so.

“It is the truth, should I lie, uhm?” he raises a brow mockingly.

You met Ivar a few months ago when Bjorn decided to come back to Kattegat for a while. You had just been married for a few weeks then, still, you instantly knew that Bjorn was not a man that stayed in one place. When you arrived at Kattegat, you also learned that you were not your husband’s first wife. Apparently, Torvi had just separated from him before he went to Hedeby. And he had another wife before her that disappeared.

You leave your knitting behind and walk to the other side of the room. “It is something you should not say to your brother’s wife,” you respond without glancing his way.

Ivar has always harbored feelings for you. They were not evident at first. He was just kinder to you than he was to everyone else. Then he started to get bolder, to the point that even Ubbe had noticed. Luckily, neither Queen Aslaug nor Bjorn suspected anything. You thought that perhaps if they knew, they would surely kick you out. Not that it was your fault Ivar felt that way, or that you have done anything with him. You have not.

You hear Ivar’s crutch as he approaches you. Your heart starts pounding rapidly inside your chest. Even if you have never done anything, you cannot deny how your body reacts to him. It is not that you do not have feelings for Bjorn anymore, it is just that what Ivar brings out in you is stronger. Ivar’s hand finds its way to your hip. His fingers delicately trace inconsistent patterns on your hip bone. Your skin burns to the contact in spite of the clothing in its way. You try desperately to control your breathing. He cannot know that his desire is reciprocated because if he does, you are scared of what he will do. You are scared you might do not want to stop him.

“My brother does not deserve you,” he whispers in your ear. “You know how he is. I’m sure Torvi has warned you he is quick to fall out of love.” She did warn you, but you refuse to believe it.

You try to step away, but he does not let you. “It is fine, once I am with child it will be fine.” you attempt to justify.

Your skin feels hot to the touch. You want to escape the feelings that Ivar causes in you, so you think that if you turn around, he will put distance between you. However, once your eyes clash with his, his hold on you tightens. You have never been this close to Ivar. For a moment, all of your rational thoughts leave your brain instantly. The only thing you can think of is his eyes. They are so unlike his brother’s. The shade is the same, yet they transmit something entirely different. They make you feel something completely new.

At that moment of insanity, you take a step towards him. Your senses drown in his presence. You feel you, yet you feel more. Your hand finds its way to his neck. He is taller than you and you love it. His chest clashes with yours and both your breaths mix. You do not know what you are doing, but it feels so right. It is like welcoming your lover after how long raid far from home. It is everything you wish you felt with Bjorn but never did.

“Once you are with me,” he murmurs on your lips, “it will be fine.”

You do not have time to process what is happening, or even to think. One moment he is looking at you like you are his whole life, and the next, he is eating you like you are the greatest feast ever served. His lips mold perfectly with yours. Your hands cup his neck exquisitely. His hand moves from your hip to your back, leaving a trace of fire on its path. Your tongues dance like never before, and you forget your name. It feels like, before this moment, you didn't truly know what happiness and passion were like.

You feel the hold on his crutch slightly wavering. You know that he is strong, yet he must be feeling lightheaded like you. You part from him momentarily, and he tries to follow your lips with his. You pay no mind and quickly locate a chair nearby. You push him towards it. He sits with a puzzled look on his face. Still, he easily knows what you are up to once you climb on his lap.

Your mouths take no time to find each other again. Now, both of his hands caress your sides and your back lovingly. Meanwhile, yours play with his braided hair. You wish it were loose so you could run your fingers through it. You move your hips involuntarily. That causes a moan to escape his mouth. If you were not aroused before, you are now. You continue with your movements so you can listen to the delicious sounds his mouth makes. It is until he places his hand in your left breast that you realize you are moaning too. Right now, you are not thinking that you are in a room where anyone could walk in. You are not thinking about Bjorn. Or the fact that you are kissing his brother.

A loud crash breaks the atmosphere instantly. In the doorway, a male thrall is standing with a surprised look on his face. At his feet, there is a jug with spilled mead. You quickly climb out of Ivar. The thrall turns away, apologizes, and scurries off. You do not try to go after him to prevent him from saying anything. You are too embarrassed to even glance at Ivar. The silence stretches for a moment.

“I…” before Ivar can say something else, you run out the door.

...

A few days go by. You have been ignoring Ivar ever since the kiss. You only talked when he told you that he took care of the thrall. You did not ask what he did, but you suspect it. A dead slave would not be questioned. In that short conversation, you only managed to nod and flee. The desire you feel for him is too great to simply ignore. Now that he knows he is reciprocated, he has been more persistent in his advances. It has made it nearly impossible to avoid him. Still, what you fear the most is that if you are in a room alone with him, all of your resolutions will be broken again. You fear Bjorn noticing your heart no longer belongs to him. You do not think he will hold it against you, but you still care for him. You do not want to break his heart.

On the other hand, some part of you believes it will not be broken. He has kept on being distant towards you. The night you kissed Ivar, you tried to sleep with him out of guilt. Your advances were stronger than the nights before, and he finally complied. It is safe to say that was the worst sex of your life. At first, he could not get it up, and then it was just not… satisfying. You had to conjure the image of his brother in your mind in order to finish. So, even more so than the neglecting, that was what made you think there could be another woman. Torvi had warned you, so had Ivar and Ubbe. You did not believe it then. Now you do.

As you follow Bjorn through the streets of Kattegat, some part of you wishes to be wrong. You do not want him to cheat on you, which is a bit hypocritical considering you kissed Ivar.

A woman crashes with you, and she murmurs insults your way. Nevertheless, when she looks at your face, she stops. Recognition flashes in her eyes. She smirks, apologizes, and then says something like "one of Ironside wives". The comment bothers you, not because that would make you second to other women in Bjorn's life, but because that means that you are not even memorable to the people of Kattegat. They think you will be gone soon, forgotten in the list of many wives. That you are just one of the many he will have. Still, you must not let it show that it bothered you, so you look down on her way and walk off.

The little encounter makes you lose sight of Bjorn. It takes you a while to find again his blond hair in the crowd. When you do, you see him entering a cabin on the outskirts of town. It was hard to trail him without him noticing, but now that you have seen where he went, you do not want to ruin it. You wait a few minutes at a safe distance, but no one comes inside. Slowly, you approach the place. Your heart is pounding rapidly, wondering what you will find.

The first thing you notice is the loud moans of a woman. That makes you freeze on the spot. Your head screams ‘I knew it’ but you need to see, to make sure. There is a crack in the wood near the door, you go near it. The hole is big enough to show you what is inside. From your spot, you have a direct view of the bed. You are not surprised by what you see.

Your husband, Bjorn, is bent over a woman laying in fours on the bed. You cannot see her face, but you distinguish blonde hair.  Bjorn is pounding rapidly into her. The cabin is filled with her moans and the obscene sounds of flesh hitting flesh. Bjorn groans above her. He grabs her by the hair, lifting her face, and that is when you recognize her. You have never talked with her, after all, she is merely a thrall. You think her name is Freydis. You remember her because she used to cling to Ivar until she realized he was not interested. Back then, you had been slightly jealous. Now, looking at your husband fuck her makes you feel… relief.

You had expected to drown in betrayal or heartbreak. None of that happens. Instead, it is then that you realize that you can be free about your feelings for Ivar. If Bjorn does not care about you any longer, then it does not matter that you are in love with another. You no longer have to remain loyal to him or feel guilty over a simple kiss. Especially with him fucking a slave for Odin knows how long. However, you crave closure. So while Bjorn is still pounding her cunt, you open the door noisily.

Your husband looks up from his task and stops abruptly. He says your name, shocked, and pushes Freydis away. The slave falls to the ground with a thud, but you do not spare a glance her way.

“I know now why you were distant,” you talk first.

He stands up and covers himself with the furs. “I…”

You do not let him talk. You have never seen Bjorn Ironside startled, yet it is your turn to express your feelings. “It is ok, Bjorn. I do not mind, nor do I feel betrayed. Everyone warned me this would happen. Tell me, do you still love me?”

He is even more surprised now. He looks down at Freydis and then at you. He seems embarrassed, though certain. It takes him a while to answer. “I am sorry. I still care about you, but not the way I used to.”

You nod in understanding. “It seems like the gods had put us together to derive our paths to someone else.”

For a moment, he appears confused. Then, a knowing smile overcomes his face. “Ivar, am I right?”

Now is your time to be startled. “How did you…”

He interrupts you. “He is not very subtle… The way he looks at you, I have never looked at anyone that way.” At least he is honest about not loving the thrall either. Then, he adds: “just be careful with him, yes? He is still Ivar The Boneless.” You both know what he means, but you are done listening to your now ex-husband. You nod at him and walk away.

Your body is buzzing with freedom inside your veins. The love and desire you feel for Ivar drives you to search for him. You know he must be in the forest right now, probably in the spot he showed you once; where he went to think. It is not very far from where you are now. You bypass half Kattegat and then scurry off into the woods. The hike seems endless, but it is the best one of your life. Your heart beats fast, and your cheeks hurt from smiling. You have to control yourself before you meet him . You tell yourself that over and over again. And yet, when you see his back, you shout his name. He turns around and sees you.

He is confused, you can see it in his eyes, but when you sit in his lap and kiss him senselessly, he does not pull away. He places his hands on your face and pulls you closer. You know that you must explain everything to him. Tell him that you are no longer married, that your heart belongs to him, that you want with him what you could not with his brother. You want to tell him that and more, but for now, you express it in the kiss. And when he pulls away and looks into your eyes, you know he understands.

[disasterofastory]

The good guy (Hvitserk x Reader)

The good guy Hvitserk x Reader Warnings: Reader is a few years older. And let's pretend that the age difference between Bjorn and his brothers is much smaller. Oral.

Summary: mordern!Hvitserk wants to show you he is the one you need.

The fake leather sticks to the back of your thighs as you push yourself next to the wall in the booth Bjorn chose for the night. A small grimace contorts your face at the uncomfortable feeling. Reaching down, you grab the hem of your skirt to pull on the fabric. Jeans may have been a better choice, but it doesn't matter now.

The pub is loud and smells like cheap beer and spicy snacks. The noises of the others mix with the game playing on the TV in the corner. Your eyes land on the screen for a second, and when the ball doesn't reach the goal, your attention turns back to the pair in front of you.

Bjorn and his girlfriend sit next to each other. The blonde man's arm is around the girl's shoulder. She is busy with her beer while her eyes scan the crowded place. Her makeup softly glints under the lights as she turns her head to the side. "Hvitserk and Ubbe will be there in a few," Bjorn says after a few seconds. His bright eyes are still on the screen of his phone. "Torvi too." "Won't it be awkward?" You ask him, glancing at Gunnhild. "It's fine," the man replies. "It was two years ago."

Their relationship didn't end well between them, and when you heard about the new love blossoming between Torvi and Ubbe, you couldn't imagine the family holidays at the Ragnarsson household.

"If you say so," you hum, holding your glass to your lips and frown when you notice Bjorn's smirking at you with mischief in his eyes. "What?" You ask him. Gunnhild grins too. "I heard something the other day," Bjorn muses. "And?" You ask. "A conversation between Ubbe and Hvitserk," Bjorn adds. "You know what?" You groan at his teasing. "I don't care. Don't tell me!" "Okay," he continues grinning. All of you know you won't keep long from questioning the burly man to spill the tea. There must be a good reason why Bjorn wants to tell you something about his two younger brothers. "Oh, come on!" You groan again. Your palm lands on the wooden table with a smack. "Tell me!" "Hvitserk likes you." Gunnhild is the one who has mercy on you. Excitement glints in her eyes as she waits for your reaction. "I mean... we are friends," you tell her, shrugging. You know all of Bjorn's brothers. Ubbe and Hvitserk are your friends, and Sigurd and Ivar don't hate your presence either. "You don't understand," Bjorn shakes his head. "He likes-likes you." You freeze, staring at them. "No," you reply, and your friends laugh. "Yes," Bjorn argues. "I heard them talking about you a few days ago. He is quite smitten with you." "And they are here," Gunnhild adds, keeping her eyes on the entrance of the pub.

You feel your stomach dropping while you watch the newcomers approaching your table. Half of your mind still tries to process Bjorn's words. Can it be true? You always thought about the brothers as Bjorn's younger siblings. Nothing more. Nothing less.

"Hey, guys!" Hvitserk's cheerful voice breaks the line of your thoughts. Your eyes wander up at the young man who is already watching you. Heat creeps up on your face at his attention on you, and you force your gaze to move onto the couple next to him. And it doesn't get better. Ubbe and Torvi watch you with a strange glint in their eyes. Or maybe you are just imagining it. "I need a drink," you gasp. "Can I get you anything?" "I will go with you," Bjorn says, standing up to follow you to the bar. "Sit down, guys," he adds. "We will be back in a minute."

"You think too hard," Bjorn says, standing next to you while you wait for your orders. "I'm not," you murmur, looking down at the counter. "I'm fine." "What's wrong?" He asks, leaning closer. "I mean, I'm the most handsome brother, but Hvitserk is a good guy too." "How can you tell that?" You ask, frowning. Eyes still on the wooden surface. "He is your little brother." "And I know him," Bjorn reasons. "You always choose the wrong guys," he continues, and you grimace. He is right. "Hvitserk would be good." "He is younger than me." The man scoffs. "So? Look, Hvitserk is like a puppy. And I mean it in a good way. And the younger lads always try to prove themself harder..." "Yeah, I remember," you murmur. "You really proved yourself back then to a lot of women." "Yeah," he nods, not trying to deny his past. "But it was me. Hvitserk is different." A heavy sigh leaves your lips, and you can't help but feel pathetic. You are already deep in a relationship that doesn't even exist. Hvitserk said nothing about his feelings for you. Maybe it isn't even true. Maybe Bjorn heard it wrong, and you stress yourself for nothing.

You are so stupid.

When you get back to the table, Ubbe and Torvi are already sitting at the end of the table on two chairs while Hvitserk stands next to the booth to give you enough space to climb back to your seat. "Thanks," you murmur and trying not to jump when his hand lands on the small of your back as you walk past by him.

You are so deep in your panicked thoughts you don't even notice Hvitserk's eyes on you. And it's really surprising since it seems like the young man can't tear his attention away from you. The skirt highlights the curve of your hips and is short enough to give enough space for his wandering gaze on your bare thighs. His palm tingles with the need to put his hand on you. He is sure you are soft and warm and everything he wants.

Ubbe's snickering shakes him up from his staring. He doesn't even feel bad about it. He feels good and content when he looks at you. Hvitserk doesn't even know when and how his feelings turned about you. You were always the girl who came over to his older brother, and before he knew it, he wanted you to spend time with him too. And wanted much more too.

"And how's the game?" Ubbe asks, glancing up at the TV. None of you care about it. "They run," Gunnhild replies. "A lot." Hvitserk can't help but smile at your laugh. His fingers curl around his beer to keep himself from touching you.

The night goes amazingly. You laugh and drink a lot but can't seem to forget the closeness of Hvitserk next to you. He radiates warmth and happiness. The cologne he uses covers your senses. His thigh brushes against yours from time to time.

"Halfdan?" Bjorn's voice brings you back to reality. When you look at him, he is already watching you with a smirk playing on his lips. "Yeah. Y/N could talk about him." "You know him?" Torvi asks, surprised. You shrug. "We dated for a little while." Hvitserk frowns at your words, but you don't notice it. His lips press into a thin line. "How was it?" You shrug again. "We didn't match." You went on a few dates with Halfdan, and while you enjoyed your time together, you found out soon enough that Halfdan was ready for a lot of things but not for a serious relationship. "Maybe you should date his brother," Ubbe suggests, laughing. "He was already married at least three times." "Yeah," you hum. "My dream is to be his fourth wife." "Isn't he old for you a bit?" Hvitserk asks, and your company needs all its strength not to laugh at the blonde man's jealous words. Heat rises up in your veins as you turn your head and look at him. A playful grin pulls on your lips. "Do you have something against older men?" Hvitserk doesn't care about older men or the brothers if they keep their distance from you. "Maybe we should go," Ubbe suddenly says, already standing up from his seat before his brother can say something to embarrass himself. "Ubbe is right," Bjorn nods. "It's late." You and Hvitserk need a few seconds to tear your gazes away from each other. "Hvitserk, maybe you should walk Y/N home," Torvi says, linking her arm over his boyfriend's. "It's dark outside." "Oh, no," you start. "You don't have to." "I do," he replies. "A walk would be nice." "I bet," Bjorn murmurs with a smirk. "I will call you tomorrow," he adds louder, watching you until you nod.

After saying goodbye to the others, you stay alone with Hvitserk. He walks by your side in silence for a few seconds. "So that's why you didn't come over for the few last weeks?" He asks after a while, keeping his gaze on the ground the whole time. His hands are in his coat pockets. "What do you mean?" You ask back. "Halfdan," he explains. "Oh," you hm. "No. I had a lot of things to do, and now that Bjorn moved out, I didn't really have the reason to go over." "Ivar misses you," he says, and you laugh. "I'm sure." "No, seriously," he clears his throat. "You can still hang out with us, right?" "I mean... yeah, I guess." You can feel your pulse in your throat as you wait for where this conversation will lead. "Or you could hang out just with me," he adds. "Ivar is boring anyway." You laugh again just to earn yourself more time to think about your next words. "I'm sure you have better things to do than spending your time with me," you tell him at the end. Your voice is quiet and unsure. You don't know what you should do. "Not really," he says. You can see his arm moving from the corner of your eyes. "I like being with you." Your heart jumps up to your throat next to your pulse when you feel his warm hand on you. His fingers are intertwined with yours. "Hvitserk," breathing out his name, you stop in front of the door of your flat. Your teeth sink into the flesh of your bottom lip as you look down at your hands. "You are really beautiful tonight." You laugh. That damn Ragnarsson charm. "Hvitserk..." He steps closer. His free hand lands under your jaw to push your head up until your eyes meet. His thumb pulls out your lip from between your teeth. "What are you doing?" You ask him. You have to force the words out because of your barely working lungs. "I like you, Y/N," he says. No embarrassment or uncertainty shows on his face. "Hvitserk..." You sigh, trying to say something, but your brain doesn't really want to work either. He smirks. "I like it when you say my name." "You can't... It's not... You are..." He patiently waits for you to finish at least one sentence. The young man really likes the way you fluster in his presence. His thumb still caresses the soft line of your bottom lip, and his other hand slips to your waist to pull you closer. Your front is pressed against his. He can't help but glance down at your cleavage. "Are your roommate home?" "My eyes are up, Hvitserk," you tell him, smirking. "I know," he grins. "They are pretty too." "Be serious," you tell him even though you can't swipe the smile off your face. "I am," he replies, looking up into your eyes. "I like you, Y/N, ever since you came over four years ago, crying because your ex broke your heart." "Really? You needed my broken heart to notice me?" You tease. "Of course not," he says. "You were always pretty in my eyes. But that was the moment I realized I would be much better for you." "Hvitserk..." "What? Don't you like me? Or because of Bjorn? I don't think he would have anything against us... I mean, did you see his love life?" "No," you reply, shaking your head. "He wouldn't mind, I'm sure." "Then what?" He asks, pressing you closer to himself. "My age? It's just a few years, Y/N. It's nothing." "Hvitserk, I know you," you reason. "You are almost as bad as Halfdan. And don't tell me it's not true. I saw the different girls you brought home almost every week." "But they weren't you," he says. "They weren't important. But you are." "Hvitserk, I really want someone for the long run..." you tell him honestly. "I want a good relationship that can grow into more in the future. I don't play games anymore." "And I can be that guy," he says. "Let me prove it, Y/N." His words fan over your lips. "Let me in." When you say nothing, he leans even closer and kisses you for the first time. His lips are soft and taste like cheap beer.

And something snaps inside of you.

Your arms curl around his neck as you let him deepen the kiss. The gentle nibbles become bites on your bottom lip until he coaxes your mouth open for free access to your tongue. His kiss is searing and takes your breath away at once. Your lungs burn when he breaks away.

His words vibrate on your swollen lips when he speaks. His forehead is against yours. "Open the door, Y/N." "Hm?" You hum, still dizzy. A soft smile tugs at the corner of his lips. His hand slips to your ass to grab a handful of your flesh. A grunt echoes in his chest at the feeling. "The door, Y/N. Open it." "Oh," you gasp. "Right."

He watches you fiddling with your keys with amusement. You are flustered and breathless. The taste of your lips still tingles on his own. His heated gaze rakes over your body from behind. The skirt hugs your bottom perfectly. His hand moves on its own accord to touch you again, but he decides against it at the last moment. No, he won't act like a dog in heat.

At least not in front of your neighbors.

Hvitserk barely slides inside your house before pushing the door close with his leg. His hands find your waist again, and when you turn to face him, he kisses you again. Your back falls against the wall, and your fingers curl into his blonde hair at the nape of his neck. His presence covers your every sense. Your nostrils are filled with his smell, your fingertips are warm on his skin, and your lips burn with his taste.

"Go to the couch," he hums against your lips before kissing you again. His tongue ghosts over the line of your bottom lip.

You need every strength in your body to do as he says.

"Sit down." "You are really commanding," you state, still following his words. "I want to taste you before you change your mind," he says. In contrast to his words, his smile is soft and almost innocent. "You... what?" You gasp, shocked. His smile turns into something much more wicked as he falls to his knees before you. Even the view is enough to make your thighs shake and your inside tremble. "Open those legs for me, Y/N," he grins. His long fingers fiddle with the straps of your high heels, moving up to your calves, and when he reaches the curve of your knees, he rises both of your legs after another to kiss them. "Hvitserk!" You gasp, slapping down on the couch under you as you grab the edge when he pulls your legs apart. "You don't have to." "Oh, Y/N," he hums. "But I want to so much." "Oh!"

The breath you keep inside your lungs burns you. The skirt runs up on your thighs as your legs open under Hvitserk's heavy gaze. His fingers dig into your thighs. He plays and gropes the flesh all the way to your bottom. Another gasp escapes your lips when the man grabs you again to tug you to the edge of your seat. The skirt you wear hides nothing anymore. "It's pretty," he grins, playing with the lace of your panties. "Interesting, I always imagined you as a black lingerie woman." "I have black ones, too," you breathe out quietly. He smirks. "Maybe next time." His thumb glides over your pussy through the thin fabric. He can feel your folds and the wetness that coats your most sensitive parts. Your thighs jerk when his touch reaches your clit. He teases the hard bud until your panties are soaked. "You are so wet already," he says with satisfaction dripping from his words. It really makes him happy. It means to him that he is not the only one who feels attraction. You are not here in front of him out of pity or worry that you would hurt his feelings and damage your friendship with his oldest brother. You really feel something. Something that can grow into more if he doesn't fucks it up. "Let me..." he hums, and without waiting for your answer, he pulls down your panties with a swift motion. Soon, the fabric lies on the ground, forgotten. The cold air on your pussy makes your whole body shiver with anticipation. "You have no idea how many times I imagined you just like this," he says, staring at your center intently. "Open and wet for me." His finger glides over your folds, smearing your wetness in the process. "Hvitserk," you breathe out his name, urging him to stop his teasing already. Your whole body is tense with waiting and burning desire. "I'm here," he smirks, leaning closer. His words fan over your aching pussy. Your thighs want to close on their own accord, but the blonde man's shoulders stop them. His fingers dig deeper into your flesh. He can't get enough of the softness of your skin. His cock is painfully hard in his jeans, but he forces himself to focus on something else. And it's not a difficult thing to do when you are in front of him with spread legs and soaked cunt. A sharp gasp escapes your lips when he closes the space between you. His tongue flattens on your pussy, taking a teasing lick of your wetness. Your juices spread across his tastebuds. His eye fall shut at the feeling.

Hvitserk devours you to his heart's content while you squirm and whine under him. His tongue flicks your clit a few times before sinking his finger into your pussy and sucking at you at the same time. Your back arches, and your mouth falls open into an airy moan. You can feel the throbbing of your heart between your legs. It jumps and speeds up at every swirl and push Hvitserk does with his tongue and fingers. He spreads his two fingers inside you, stretching your walls and finding every sweet spot that makes you cry for more. To cry for him. "Hivtserk," you moan. "I-I-" "Cum," he groans into your pussy. His eyes bore into yours. "Cum for me, Y/N. Let me drink from you." Your head falls back at the whirlwind that runs through your body. Your muscles are taut, almost painfully so. You can't even breathe as the climax washes over you with full force. Your fingers find their way into his curls. You tug on the blonde strands, and Hvitserk moans. He wants you to use him for your own pleasure. He wants you to find pleasure in him, not just in the bed but everywhere else too. After years of silently watching you and craving your body with equal need with your laugh and pretty smile, he is ready for everything. He is ready to accept everything you want to give him.

When you win back your consciousness, Hvitserk is still between your legs, resting his head on your thigh with a cheeky grin on his lips. His lips glint with your wetness. "Hey." Heat creeps up on your face. "Hi." "I will pick you up at seven tomorrow," he suddenly says, standing up from his kneeling position. A quick kiss on your lips reminds you of what happened a few minutes ago. "What?" You gasp. "Hvitserk... what?" You watch his receding form as he makes his way to the entrance door of your home. "I thought..." You point at your room with your thumb. The confusion is clear on your face. When he looks back from the door, he can't help but stop for a second. You are so goddamn beautiful. Your hair is a mess, your eyes still shine with the remains of your climax, and your lips are swollen and red from his kisses. He really needs his every self-control not to turn back and take you to your room for more. "Nope," he says, popping the p. "Date first. Tomorrow. At seven." "But..." "It was just a taste, Y/N, because I couldn't help myself." And with that, he closes the door, leaving you alone with shaking legs and a dizzy mind.

Oh, gods!