#vikings one-shot
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❝army of ivarrsons❞
✭ pairing : ivar the boneless x reader
✭ fandom : vikings
✭ summary : ivar has always thought of himself to be a failure of a man, his legs did not work like an normal man, his prick did not work. The only thing he was good for was being a prince and a warrior though he wasn’t all that good at being even those in his eyes, but then along came a woman. One so pure, so beautiful she looked to be a goddess amongst men. And with those sweet words she spoke “I will bare you many sons ivar the boneless.”
✭ authors note : I have requests closed as y’all seen but it’s only temporarily, haven’t really been up to writing and seeing as how I had many ideas in mind for stories I thought fuck it let’s try again
The morning sun cast a golden glow over the great hall of Ivar's family estate, illuminating the long wooden table laden with bread, cheese, and freshly caught fish. Ivar sat at the head of the table, his older brother Sigurd to his right. As usual, Sigurd couldn't resist testing his patience.
"Good morrow, brother," Sigurd teased, a wicked glint in his eye. "Have you finally learned how to eat without spilling half your breakfast on your tunic?"
Ivar clenched his jaw, determined to keep his composure. Their sibling rivalry had existed for as long as he could remember, and it showed no signs of waning. He forced a strained smile. "I'm making progress, Sigurd, unlike some."
Before the exchange could escalate further, the heavy wooden doors of the great hall swung open with a thunderous crash. A thrall, gasping for breath and drenched in sweat, stumbled into the room. The hushed conversations ceased, and all eyes turned to the intruder.
Ivar rose from his seat, ready to reprimand the thrall for her lack of decorum, but before he could utter a word, she dropped to her knees, her head bowed low.
"Forgive me, my lords," the thrall panted, her voice trembling. "I bring urgent news."
Ivar exchanged puzzled glances with Sigurd. Urgent news was a rarity in their peaceful corner of the world. He gestured for the thrall to continue.
She raised her head, revealing wide, terrified eyes. "Freya herself has come and blessed us. She walks among us."
The words hung in the air like a spell, and a collective gasp swept through the hall. Ivar's skepticism wrestled with the growing sense of anticipation. Gods did not simply descend from the heavens to walk among mortals.
Before he could question the thrall further, the great hall erupted into chaos. The guests and servants rushed toward the entrance, shoving past each other in their eagerness to catch a glimpse of the so-called Freya. Ivar, however, moved reluctantly through the crowd, his curiosity piqued despite his reservations.
And there she stood, in the center of the throng, an ethereal vision that defied belief. Freya, if that truly was her name, had luscious hair that billowed in the wind, eyes that seemed to hold both otherworldly wisdom and untold mysteries. Her face was mature but agelessly youthful, her features mirroring the very essence of a Viking legend. It was as if the stories of the gods themselves had come to life.
The hall was filled with awe-struck whispers as people fell to their knees, proclaiming that the gods had indeed come to pay them a visit.
Amidst the reverence, Freya's gaze found Ivar's, and she offered him a serene smile. A shiver ran down his spine as their eyes locked. Something unspoken passed between them.
"We have much to talk about," she said, her voice carrying a mysterious weight that left Ivar both uneasy and captivated.
As the crowd continued to kneel and worship the divine presence before them, Ivar couldn't help but wonder what secrets this so-called Freya held and how her arrival would reshape their world.
Ivar stood alongside his older brothers, Sigurd, Hvitserk, and Ubba, each of them caught between awe and skepticism as they gazed upon the enigmatic woman who claimed to be Freya. The hall had fallen into reverent silence, save for the murmurs of those who dared to question her divine presence.
"Are you truly the goddess Freya?" Sigurd finally ventured to ask, his voice trembling with a mix of fear and curiosity.
Freya, or the woman who bore her name, smiled, but her response held an air of mystery. "My face holds many names, Freya may just be one of them."
The brothers exchanged glances, unsure of what to make of her cryptic words. It was Ubba who stepped forward, his towering frame casting a shadow over the ethereal figure before them. "Why have you come to bless us, then?" he inquired, his tone respectful but inquisitive. "If I may ask without sounding rude."
The woman, who had introduced herself as (Y/N), let out a melodic laugh that echoed through the hall. "Rude? Not at all, dear Ubba. You see, I am here for Ivar."
Ivar's heart skipped a beat as all eyes turned toward him. He had been prepared for many things this day, but not for such a direct and unsettling revelation. He struggled to find his voice. "For me?"
(Y/N) nodded, her enigmatic smile never faltering. "Yes, for you, Ivar. If you were to accept me into your home, I would bear you many healthy children."
The words hung in the air, pregnant with meaning and implications that Ivar could hardly fathom. The weight of her gaze bore down on him, as if she could see into the depths of his soul. It was a proposition unlike any other, one that would reshape not only his destiny but that of his family and people as well.
Sigurd couldn't suppress the unease that gnawed at his heart. He looked from his brothers to (Y/N), his eyes narrowing in suspicion. "Why him, and not one of us?" he asked, his voice tinged with a hint of bitterness.
(Y/N) met Sigurd's gaze with an unwavering serenity. "You are all favored by the gods," she began, her voice carrying an air of wisdom. "But Ivar, he is favored above all. The accomplishments you will face, the children you will bear into this world—they will be great, but not as great as his."
The revelation left Sigurd and his brothers exchanging troubled glances. It was a difficult truth to accept, that their destinies were preordained and that Ivar's path would surpass theirs. But even in the midst of their uncertainty, (Y/N) offered a glimpse of hope.
Ubba, ever the one to voice the unasked questions, spoke next. "If you are truly Freya," he began cautiously, "then how come you are here with us and not your husband, the Allfather? I do not wish to be rude, but you are married to Odin, are you not? Yet you speak of carrying my brothers' children."
(Y/N) smiled, her eyes holding a mixture of fondness and sadness. "Odin and I have long since split," she explained. "But for the sake of the other gods, we remain faithful to one another—just not in the way one would think."
The brothers exchanged another set of glances, their minds trying to grasp the complexities of divine relationships and the implications of (Y/N)'s presence in their lives.
Amidst the questions and uncertainties, Ivar felt a wave of insecurity washing over him. He couldn't help but voice his doubt, his voice laden with self-deprecation. "You should choose one of my brothers or someone else," he said, his tone laced with a mix of humility and resignation. "They are able men and can do all the things a woman would need in a man. You don't deserve a cripple like me."
(Y/N) turned his head gently, making him meet her gaze once more. Her smile remained, unwavering. "But yet I chose you."
The words held a weight that Ivar struggled to comprehend. In that moment, he couldn't help but wonder if he truly understood the depths of the path that lay ahead, one where gods and mortals intertwined in ways he had never imagined.
As the evening sun dipped below the horizon, Ivar found himself giving in to the uncharted territory that (Y/N) had brought into his life. The same night they met, they wed an impromptu ceremony all of Kattegat’s members and held a extravagant feast of celebration.
Now, in the dimly lit chamber, amidst the cheers and laughter, the newlyweds were about to partake in the bedding ceremony. Ivar couldn't help but feel a sense of unease as he apologized, his voice tremulous. "I'm not very good at this," he admitted, his cheeks tinged with embarrassment.
(Y/N) leaned in close, her eyes holding a comforting reassurance. "You'll do just fine," she whispered, her breath warm against his ear. "I've seen how your first time went, my dearest ivar. It is normal to be nervous, especially when it's not the one you truly want."
Ivar felt a surge of relief wash over him. Her understanding words eased his doubts, and he let himself surrender to the passion that simmered between them.
Throughout the night, their love-making was fervent, passionate, and filled with a longing that transcended mere physical desire. The hours blurred together, and the dawn found them entwined, their bodies and souls intimately connected.
The next morning, Ivar awoke with a grin that was unusually happy for the stoic prince. Ubba, his older brother, noticed the change in his demeanor and couldn't help but inquire, "Did something happen to Sigurd, brother?" He assumed that Ivar might have witnessed their brother's misfortune or a rejection.
Ivar chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Nothing of that sort, brother."
Not long after both brothers had been joined by Floki - a member close to their family especially their father and seen as another father figure to ivar, for breakfast, the trio exchanged casual conversation, and Ivar's newfound happiness was hard to conceal. In the midst of a seemingly mundane conversation about the weather, Ivar couldn't contain himself any longer.
"I must share some news," he declared, his voice ringing with confidence. "Last night, I performed well in bed. Every round, to the very end."
Ubba, caught off guard, nearly choked on his mead. Floki raised an eyebrow, intrigued but nevertheless proud by the sudden announcement. "Is that so, Ivar?"
While Ubba struggled to contain his astonishment, he managed to offer a hearty congratulations to his brother, even if a tinge of bitterness lingered. The doubts that had plagued Ivar, the assumptions made by his brothers, had all been dispelled in the passionate hours he had shared with (Y/N).
It had been just a week since Ivar and (Y/N) had wed, but the news that swept through the village was enough to send everyone into celebration. (Y/N), still affectionately referred to as Freya by the villagers, was pregnant with the heir of Ivar, the prince of Kattegat.
Upon hearing the news, Ivar wasted no time in throwing a grand feast to celebrate this momentous occasion. The great hall was adorned with banners and torches, and the long tables were laden with the finest foods and meads. It was a joyous occasion, and the entire village turned out to celebrate the impending arrival of their future leader.
Throughout the festivities, Ivar's attentiveness to his wife was unmistakable. He was by (Y/N)'s side at every turn, anticipating her needs before she even voiced them. If she desired a drink, he would fetch it for her or have a thrall pour it with haste. When she wanted more meat, he ensured her plate was overflowing with it. And when she complained of stiffness in her shoulders and back from the long hours of celebration, he was there to ease the tension, his strong hands working wonders on her weary muscles.
Everyone could see the happiness that (Y/N) brought into Ivar's life, and it was evident in every glance, every gesture, and every tender touch between them. Despite the brevity of their marriage, their connection was undeniable, and it had only grown stronger with the promise of a child.
As the night wore on, and the revelry continued, Ivar found himself in a state of contentment he had never known before. With (Y/N) by his side and the prospect of fatherhood on the horizon, he couldn't help but look to the future with hope and excitement. The people of Kattegat watched their prince with admiration, knowing that he was not only a formidable leader but also a devoted husband, eagerly anticipating the arrival of his heir.
The months had went by swiftly and soon the long-awaited day had arrived. The air in the room was filled with a mixture of anticipation and anxiety as (Y/N) prepared to give birth to Ivar's heir. The labor had been long and exhausting, pushing (Y/N) to her limits, but she persevered with unwavering strength and determination. Ivar stood by her side, providing constant support and encouragement, never leaving her sight.
As the hours turned into eternity, the cries of pain echoed through the room. The midwife worked diligently, guiding (Y/N) through each contraction, offering words of comfort and reassurance. By her side, Ivar held her hand tightly, his eyes never leaving her face. He could see the strain etched upon her features but admired her resilience in the face of such intense pain.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the moment arrived. The cries of a newborn filled the room, and tears of relief streamed down (Y/N)'s face. Ivar's heart swelled with joy as he looked upon the tiny face of his firstborn son. The room seemed to glow with an ethereal light, as if the gods themselves had blessed this moment.
"I am truly blessed by the gods," Ivar whispered, his voice filled with awe. "For I have a wife, the fairest of them all - the goddess Freya herself - in my arms, with my firstborn son, an heir. I never thought I would find such happiness, but I am grateful that I have."
(Y/N) smiled weakly, her eyes shining with love and exhaustion. She reached out a trembling hand to touch Ivar's cheek, her touch filled with tenderness and gratitude. "And I am blessed to have you, my dearest Ivar," she whispered. "You have given me strength and love beyond measure."
In that moment, the world outside ceased to exist, overshadowed by the miracle of new life. Ivar and (Y/N) found solace in each other's arms, cherishing the precious gift they had been given.
The midwife gently placed the newborn in (Y/N)'s arms, and Ivar marveled at the sight. His heir, his legacy, lay peacefully in his mother's embrace. There was a newfound sense of purpose and responsibility that settled upon Ivar's broad shoulders.
As he looked upon his wife and son, Ivar knew that he would protect and cherish them with all his might. He, a warrior feared by many, had found his greatest joy in the form of his family. With a heart filled with love and gratitude, Ivar vowed to be the father his son deserved, and not the man his own father had been.
Six years had passed since the day Ivar and (Y/N) had wed, and in that time, Ivar had become a force to be reckoned with. At the age of twenty-four, he had accomplished more than he had ever dreamed of. He had conquered lands, brought riches to Kattegat, and solidified his reputation as a formidable leader.
But it wasn't just his conquests that defined his success; it was the growing family he had built with (Y/N) by his side. Their firstborn, Arvid, had been a source of immense pride for Ivar, carrying the weight of being the heir to the throne. Following Arvid, twin boys named Audun and Axel had joined their family.
Their blessings continued with the birth of a daughter, Astride, who brought a new kind of joy into their lives. And after Astride, more sons had followed: Ase, Bodil, Dane, Ebbe, Eir, and Inge, each one a testament to the love and connection between Ivar and (Y/N).
Now, with the passage of time, the couple found themselves on the brink of another exciting chapter in their lives. (Y/N) was expecting once more, and this time, they had received the news that they were to welcome another set of twins into their growing family.
The prospect of more children filled Ivar with a deep sense of pride and fulfillment. He had not only achieved great success in his endeavors but had also created a legacy that would continue to shape the future of Kattegat for generations to come. With (Y/N) by his side, he looked forward to the challenges and joys that lay ahead, knowing that their love and the family they had built together were the greatest treasures of all.
#x reader#x reader one shot#x reader oneshot#ivar#ivar the boneless imagines#ivar the boneless x reader#ivar the boneless#ivar the boneless x you#ivar the boneless imagine#ivar x y/n#ivar lothbrok#vikings ivar#ivar x you#ivar ragnarsson#ivar x reader#ivar imagine#ivar fanfic#vikings imagines#vikings imagine#vikings#vikings x reader#vikings x you#vikings x y/n
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Once upon a fairy tale - Ubbe Ragnarson
Enemies to lovers, forced-marriage and based on the Disney movie The Swan princess. Here is what is probably the work I’m proudest of. Things you need to know before reading:
- As a medieval fic, there will be typical misoginist behaviours, racisims at some points and stereotypes.
- In this fic, Ubbe is from Mercia, not a viking, but a prince. His whole family is ruling that country, while yours rules over Wessex.
- Ivan doesn’t exist. I had to erase a brother for the plot I’M SORRY.
- It hasn’t been proof-read. So, if you find any mistake, please let me know!
Ubbe Ragnarson knew three things: that he would inherit the throne when his father died, that he should get married soon to assure that throne, and that he hated Y/N Ealhmunding. And those three facts were related. Because your hand had been promised to him since you were young kids, and now it’s time to fulfill that promise.
As princess of king Ecbert Ealhmunding, you also knew three things: that the laws for a kingdom ruler weren’t fair, that your father had done everything he could for you and your future, and that you hated Ubbe Ragnarson. Not only you hated that they had decided your future without you, or that you were expected to leave every braincell behind once you married, but also that the same boy who you had hated since childhood would be your husband.
Every summer, Mercia and Wessex try to make you both fall in love. And they fail.
But this summer is different, because a series of tragic and unfortunate events brings you closer to Ubbe than ever.
You’re no longer mischievous kids pulling pranks on each other, but responsible adults looking for what’s best for your country. And trying to survive in the meantime.
Preface: Ubbe and you meet for the first time, foreshadowing what your relationship is going to be like.
1st part: Just like any other summer, you have to leave your country. Just like any other summer, Ubbe has to open his to your annoying presence.
2nd part: your sixteenth-first encounter goes as good as planned.
3rd part: Aslaug tries to push you closer to Ubbe, leaving you in a vulnerable situation. When faced with a group of soldiers, they don't hesitate to make their opinion about you crystal clear.
4rd part: The soldiers’ attitude forces your father to make a decision, and you finally see an end to your engagement. Only that, when presented with the chance, you’re not so sure.
5th part: No longer under the pressure of an arranged marriage and with the hunting raid around the corner, you can almost taste your freedom. But something new awakens and neither Ubbe and you know how to deal with it.
6th part: The morning of the hunting raid arrives, and new feelings are revealed.
7th part: Ubbe and you take important decisions, about your future and the future of your kingdoms, not knowing that something bigger than you is happening outside the castle’s walls.
8th part: tragedy strikes when you least expect it.
Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated
#ubbe#ubbe imagine#ubbe ragnarson#ubbe lothbrok#ubbe x reader#ubbe one shot#ubbe vikings#ubbe fic#vikings fic#vikings#vikings one shot#vikings imagine#vikings x reader#vikings x you#ubbe x you#hvitserk#aslaug#ragnar#king ecbert#king ubbe#imaginesmai#imaginesmaimasterlist#imagines mai#x reader#imagine#one shot#fic#multi chapter fic#multi chapter#disney au
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It Is You (Ivar The Boneless)
Ivar the Boneless drabble
Imagine you are the one that catches Ivar's eyes, not Freydis.
The crowd is overly excited by the army’s return to Kattegat, they had finally avenged the death of Ragnar Lothbrok. I had not taken long to recruit the great heathen army, and less to decimate the Saxons. Most of the hassle had been travel discrepancies and what to do after. Now with all that finally over, Vikings have a chance to celebrate victory. It is no surprise, then, when the great hall is completely packed with drunk people in the late hours of the night. The celebration of the great heathen army’s conquest is something to brag about, and Ivar the Boneless is doing precisely that.
You have never seen the Viking prince in person, considering that you are not a shieldmaiden, and could not go to avenge Ragnar. Also, you grew up in Ringerike, not Kattegat, thus you never encountered him during your childhood. You have heard the stories, though, not only the most recent ones about his victory against the Saxons, but also those speaking of his cruelty and quick temper. And so when you came to welcome your brother back from fighting in England, it was not in your plan to cross paths with Ivar the Boneless. However, once you entered the great hall, your destiny was entangled with his.
He is not the only man that stares at you more than he should, but his gaze is so intense that you can not shake it off. It burns through your skin like fire, stealing all of your attention from your brother’s words. When you look up, Ivar is already glancing your way. He does not smile or try to approach you like the rest of the men, he just stares. His look is heated but not loaded with anger, it is something else. No one has ever gazed at you like that, it has such desire and amazement. It makes you feel like a goddess. So, while your brother is still talking, you leave his side to introduce yourself to the cruel prince. That is the first step that changes your life.
Tags: @cdauni @justsomecreaturewandering
#ivar ragnarsson#ivar the boneless#ivar x reader#ivar x you#ivar vikings#ivar imagine#ivar fic#vikings#vikings fic#vikings imagine#ivar lothbrok#ivar fluff#ivar x oc#vikings fluff#ivar ragnarsson x reader#vikings one shot#ivar ragnarsson x ofc#ivar lothbrok x reader#vikings drabble
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Warnings: graphic descriptions of amputation, blood and gore, a dash of dark humour at the very end, viking themes, mentions of sacrifices
A/N: this original story was commissioned by @amelia-quining on my Ko-fi page. Thank you once again for trusting me with your request. I really hope this little fic meets your expectations ♥
KO-FI COMMISSIONS
In the far reaches of the north of Sweden, nestled amidst towering firs, rugged cliffs and ancient stones, lay the Viking settlement of Hurgå, where the chill winds carried whispers of ancient gods and forgotten rituals.
Hurgå was a quaint settlement nestled amidst the rugged terrain of the northern lands. Surrounded by dense forests and towering mountains, it exuded an aura of rugged beauty and ancient mystique. The village consisted of sturdy wooden structures, their roofs adorned with thatch, blending seamlessly with the natural landscape. Narrow dirt paths wound their way between the buildings, lined with wildflowers and patches of vibrant greenery.
In the heart of Hurgå, overlooking the settlement square, stood a modest yet revered structure: the temple dedicated to the glory of Odin, the Allfather. Built with sturdy timber and adorned with intricate carvings depicting scenes from ancient legends, the temple served as a focal point for the spiritual life of the community.
Hurgå was a place of untamed beauty and unyielding harshness, where the whispers of ancient gods still lingered in the crisp mountain air, and where the people revered the old ways with unwavering devotion.
Among them was Åse.
The girl, in her mid-20s, possessed a striking appearance that captivated those around her. Her long, lustrous ginger hair cascaded down her back, framing her delicate features. Emerald eyes sparkled with intelligence and depth, drawing others into their gaze. Freckles adorned her nose and cheeks like constellations against her porcelain skin, as pale as moonlight, that felt soft and smooth to the touch, like freshly fallen snow. Despite her slender frame and lack of height, there was an undeniable allure to her presence, and many young men found themselves enchanted by her beauty, but alas, their affections remained unrequited. As a devout priestess of Odin, her heart belonged solely to her divine calling, and no earthly suitor could sway her dedication.
Åse was not like the other women of Hurgå. While they busied themselves with domestic chores and tending to the hearth, she sought knowledge and enlightenment in the shadow of the temple built for the glory of Allfather. Her dreams were filled with visions of the future, and she longed to become a seer, a vessel through which Odin's will could be known.
During the summer solstice, when the boundaries between the hominal realm and the divine were said to blur, Åse made the pilgrimage to Uppsala, the sacred center of worship for the northern tribes. There, amidst the throngs of pilgrims and the intoxicating scent of burning incense, she partook in the sacred rituals and consumed the potent hallucinogenic brew offered by the temple priests that would allow her to transcend the mortal realm.
As Åse consumed the potent hallucinogenic brew, the world around her began to shift and warp, blurring the lines between reality and the ethereal. Colors danced before her eyes, swirling and merging into intricate patterns that seemed to pulse with life. Her senses heightened, and she felt as though she were being pulled into another realm.
In her trance, Åse found herself standing in a vast, mist-shrouded forest. The air was thick with the scent of pine and soggy earth, and a sense of ancient wisdom seemed to permeate the very atmosphere. As she walked deeper into the forest, she felt a presence watching her, a powerful and otherworldly presence that seemed to emanate from the very trees themselves.
Amidst the haze, a figure began to materialize before her. He stood tall and imposing, his form wreathed in ethereal light. His features were sharp and regal, with piercing eyes that seemed to hold the wisdom of the ages. Though she had never beheld a man so fine in her life, she felt an unmistakable sense of recognition, as if she had known him in some distant time or place. It was him. It was the Allfather.
With a voice barely above a whisper, the girl spoke, her words tinged with gratitude. "Thank you, my lord," she murmured, her voice barely audible amidst the swirling energies of the trance. "For your guidance and your presence in my mere life."
"Daughter of the north," the man spoke, his voice resonating with power. "You have come seeking knowledge and guidance. Ask, and I shall provide."
"Great Allfather," Åse began, her words echoing in the sacred space. "I seek your knowledge and your blessing. I wish to become a seer, to dedicate myself fully to your teachings and to serve you with all that I am."
When he spoke, his voice was like thunder rolling across the heavens, yet infused with a gentle warmth that enveloped Åse like a comforting embrace. "My child," he replied, his words resonating deep within her soul, "Your heart is pure, and your spirit is strong. I grant you my blessing and the gift of sight. May you use it wisely, and may your visions guide you on the path of enlightenment."
With those words, Åse felt a profound sense of connection to the divine.
Odin's voice echoed in her mind once again, his gaze piercing through her very soul. "But such power comes at a price. Will you prove yourself worthy, my child?"
With unwavering determination, Åse knelt before the man, her heart pounding with anticipation. "I am all yours to command, Allfather," she declared, her voice resolute.
"To wield such power, one must prove themselves worthy," the god intoned, his one-eyed gaze piercing into Åse's very soul. "Are you prepared to make the necessary sacrifice?"
Åse's heart pounded in her chest as she contemplated the weight of Odin's words. This was no simple bargain; it was a test of her dedication and resolve. But deep within her, she felt a stirring, a flicker of determination that burned brighter with each passing moment. "I am," she declared, her voice steady despite the tremble in her limbs. "I will give all that I am, if it means serving you, Allfather."
A solemn nod from Odin confirmed her choice, his presence seeming to fill all of her being with an otherworldly aura. "Then let it be done," he commanded, his tone both solemn and commanding.
Suddenly, Åse's vision blurred and the world around her seemed to fade into darkness. She felt herself falling, tumbling into a black abyss of oblivion, her senses overwhelmed by the weight of her decision. Time lost its meaning as she drifted in the void, her mind awash with visions of the future and the divine presence of the Allfather.
When she finally awoke, it was with a sense of disorientation, her head swimming with dizziness. But even as she struggled to steady herself, there was a newfound certainty burning within her soul. She knew, without a doubt, that what she had experienced was real, as real as her own flesh.
Determined to fulfill her destiny, Åse made her way to the highest priest of Uppsala, her steps unsteady but resolute.
Odin's temple in Uppsala stood as a grand testament to the reverence and awe inspired by the ancient deity. The temple itself was a structure of grandeur and majesty, constructed of sturdy timber beams and adorned with intricate carvings depicting scenes from Norse mythology. Massive wooden doors, carved with symbols of Odin's authority, guarded the entrance, inviting only the most devout worshippers to pass through.
Inside, the temple's interior was bathed in the warm glow of flickering torches, casting dancing shadows across the polished stone floors. The air was heavy with the scent of burning incense, mingling with the earthy aroma of the surrounding forest.
At the heart of the temple stood a great altar, adorned with offerings of mead, bread, and other treasures laid out as gifts to the Allfather. Above it, a towering statue of Odin loomed, his piercing gaze seeming to follow the movements of those who entered.
Around the altar, worshippers gathered in reverent silence, their faces upturned in prayer and supplication. The atmosphere was charged with a palpable sense of reverence and devotion as pilgrims sought to commune with the divine and receive the blessings of the Allfather.
As Åse entered the sacred halls of the temple, she soon was led to the back of the temple by an elder woman, and upon entering the chamber of the highest priest, she felt meaningless.
The priest, adorned in ceremonial robes and wreathed in the flickering light of candles, regarded her with solemn gravity. "Åse," he intoned, his voice a low rumble that echoed off the stone walls of the chamber.
Surprised by the priest's knowledge of her name, the long-haired girl furrowed her ginger brow in confusion. "How do you know my name?" she asked, her voice tinged with curiosity.
The priest regarded her with a knowing gaze. "Child," he said, his voice grave and solemn, "The Allfather sees all and knows all. He has watched over you since the day you were born, guiding your footsteps and weaving the tapestry of your destiny, leading you to this exact place."
Åse's eyes widened in astonishment at his words, a shiver coursing down her spine. "The Allfather..." the ginger murmured, her mind reeling with the implications of his revelation.
The priest nodded solemnly, his expression unreadable. "Indeed," he replied. "He has chosen you for a great purpose, Åse. Embrace your destiny, for it is a path that few are privileged to walk. Now, tell me, my child, what did you see in your vision?”
She recounted her vision. With each word, she felt the weight of her commitment grow heavier, yet she knew that she was ready to embrace whatever fate awaited her. She had never felt so chosen, yet the weight of her destiny felt heavy upon her shoulders, so she regarded the man’s words with a single nod.
"You have come seeking the blessing of the Allfather, but know that the path you tread is one of great peril."
Åse nodded, her gaze steady as she met the priest's solemn gaze. "I understand, honored one. I am prepared to make this sacrifice."
The priest inclined his head in acknowledgment, his expression grave. "Very well. You understand the magnitude of what you are about to undertake. This path is one of solitude and sacrifice, and none may accompany you on your journey."
Åse swallowed hard, steeling herself for the ordeal ahead. "I will not falter," she vowed, her voice ringing with pure determination. "I will see this through to the end."
“What did you offer to Odin himself in exchange for his favor?" the priest inquired, his voice low and grave.
Åse squared her shoulders, meeting the man's gaze with determination. "I offered my left arm," she replied, her voice steady despite the tremor in her heart.
The man placed a hand on her shoulder, his touch a silent benediction. "May the gods grant you strength and wisdom in the trials ahead. You walk a path that few dare to tread, but know that you do so with their blessing."
The priest's movements were deliberate as he approached a small box resting on the desk, surrounded by flickering candles. With a solemn air, he opened the lid, revealing the sacrificial knife nestled within. The blade gleamed in the dim light, its sharp edge catching the glow of the candles.
Carefully, the man lifted the knife from the box, wrapping it in a linen cloth before handing it to Åse. "This is the tool of your sacrifice," he said, his voice low and solemn. "To fulfill your oath to Odin, you must wield it with purpose and conviction."
He placed the knife gently into Åse's open hands, his touch reverent. "Remember, Åse," he continued, his words weighted with significance, "The sacrifice you make tomorrow will bind you to Odin's will for eternity. Use the blade wisely, for it is a symbol of your destiny."
On a crisp dawn, Åse knelt before the towering statue of Odin, her heart pounding with anticipation. She was about to make the ultimate sacrifice, a testament to her love and devotion. Clad in a simple white shift, her left arm was bare, the spot where it would be severed was marked with a rune of courage.
Åse began her prayer, her voice echoing in the silent temple.
“Hinn almáttki Óðinn, Alföðr, heyr minn bæn.
Veit mér styrk og hugrekki til að takast á við þessa áskorun,
til að fórna af sjálfum mér í þínu nafni."
Åse's fingers wrapped around the sacrificial knife, its weight heavy in her palm.
The blade gleamed with a deadly sheen, its edge honed to a razor-sharpness that promised swift and merciless precision. Adorned with ancient runes, the handle pulsed with an otherworldly energy, each symbol whispering secrets of power and sacrifice. It was a weapon of old, forged in the fires of tradition and steeped in the blood of ages past. And now, it awaited its next offering, hungry for the flesh that would feed its ancient hunger.
With a steady hand, Åse tested the blade's edge, marveling at its keenness as it sliced effortlessly through the skin on the pad of her left index finger. Åse hissed as the sharp blade met her skin, a bead of crimson welling up from the shallow cut. The sting of pain was sharp and quick, but she gritted her teeth and pushed through it, her determination unwavering. This sacrifice was necessary, a small price to pay for the knowledge and power she sought.
As she prepared herself for the task ahead, Åse knew that this blade held the key to her destiny. With its bite, she would carve her path into the annals of history, marking herself as a vessel for the divine will. And though her heart trembled with fear, her resolve remained unshaken, for she understood the importance of the sacrifice that lay before her.
She hadn't conducted any prior research, but fortunately, one of her closest friends, Helga, had assisted a healer back in Hurgå. Åse had witnessed a few instances where limbs were amputated due to the severe injuries sustained by their warriors in battles against Christians or other settlements.
Åse scolded herself inwardly, chastising her own hesitance. "Foolish," she thought, a twinge of uncertainty began to creep into the recesses of her mind, gnawing at her resolve like a relentless predator stalking its prey. "Every moment wasted is another moment of doubt and hesitation. Allfather awaits my sacrifice, and I cannot afford to falter now."
Gripping the sacrificial knife tightly in her hand, she positioned it just at the crook of her left elbow. Her emerald eyes shone with anticipation. With a shaky exhale, she pressed the blade against her skin, feeling the cold steel bite into her flesh with a sickening crunch.
The first incision was precise, the sharp edge of the blade slicing effortlessly through the layers of dermis and epidermis. A jolt of excruciating pain shot through her arm, causing her to scream in the overwhelming agony. Sweat beaded on her ginger brow as she fought to steady her trembling hand, each movement of the blade sending shockwaves of torment coursing through her body. Gritting her teeth against the pain, she summoned every ounce of determination she possessed and began to saw through her flesh.
As the blade penetrated deeper, the resistance was greater, the tissue denser, but the blade pressed on, its edge biting into the flesh with a relentless determination.
A white-hot agony threatened to overwhelm her completely.
With each sawing motion, Åse felt a searing pain shoot through her arm, radiating outward from the point of contact. The nerves screamed in protest as the blade severed them, sending waves of agony coursing through her body. Blood welled up from the wound, flowing freely down her arm and pooling on the ground below.
As the blade cut through muscle and sinew with alarming ease, Åse could feel the resistance give way, the tissue parting like silk under the blade. The sound of tearing flesh filled the air, accompanied by the sickening sensation of her own thick blood coating her skin.
With each agonizing cut, she felt a piece of herself being torn away, sacrificed in the name of her destiny. The sound of her own labored breathing filled the air, punctuated by the wet, guttural sound of flesh being torn asunder. Her entire being was screaming in protest as she fought to keep moving.
The metallic tang of blood filled the air, mingling with the acrid scent of burning incense. Her hands slick with blood as she worked to complete the grisly task.
With a steady hand, the ginger girl applied more pressure to the blade. There was a sickening sensation as the blade sliced through muscles and tendon, but she pushed past it. With a deft movement, she twisted the knife, using its keen edge to pry apart the joint.
Finally, with a final, decisive stroke, there was a soft pop as the joint gave way, and Åse's arm fell down to the floor with a sickening thud, leaving a gaping wound in its wake. Blood poured from the stump, staining the ground and her robes crimson as Åse crumpled to the floor to her knees, her vision swimming with pain and dizziness, her body wracked with pain and exhaustion. She had done it. She had made the ultimate sacrifice.
In that moment, she felt a surge of power unlike anything she had ever known, and she knew that the Allfather was offering her a gift beyond imagining. And then a shroud of darkness descended upon her, swallowing her whole.
Åse didn't know how long she had been unconscious, or if she had crossed the threshold into death itself.
Slowly, she opened her eyes, blinking against the sudden brightness that stung her vision. Blinking away the discomfort, she took in her surroundings, and realized she was lying on a small bed, adorned with furs. The air was thick with the scent of incense and the pungent aroma of mead.
After a few moments of disorientation, Åse tentatively turned her head to the left. With hesitant movements, she lifted the fur covering her upper shoulder, revealing the neatly wrapped bandages that concealed the absence of her forearm. The absence of her limb sent a shiver down her spine, yet she could still feel its phantom presence, a sensation that made her gasp.
Tears welled in her eyes once more as she gently laid her head back against the pillow. "Thank you, Allfather," she whispered, her voice barely audible in the quiet chamber.
The door creaked open, and an elderly woman entered the room, carrying a bowl filled with fresh bandages. With a gentle smile, she approached Åse's bedside. "You've been unconscious for nearly two weeks, child," the woman said softly, her voice filled with concern. "Many feared you wouldn't make it.”
Åse listened in stunned silence as the woman continued, explaining that her offering had been presented at the altar of Odin and later burnt alongside other tributes. The girl then inquired about when she could return home.
The woman offered a sympathetic smile. "That depends on how quickly you recover, my dear. But rest assured, we will do everything we can to aid your healing."
Åse returned to her settlement, Hurgå, greeted by the shocked and concerned faces of her fellow villagers. Whispers spread like wildfire as people noticed her armless state, and many approached her, their voices trembling with worry.
"Åse, what happened to you? Were you attacked on your trip to Uppsala?" they asked, their eyes wide with fear.
But Åse simply smiled, her demeanor calm and serene despite the questions. "No, I wasn't attacked," she reassured them. "It was an offering I made to the Allfather."
Some of the villagers exchanged skeptical glances, murmuring amongst themselves about her supposed delusions. They couldn't fathom why she would believe that Odin would accept such a lousy sacrifice.
Yet Åse remained undeterred, her faith unwavering as she returned to her daily life, determined to fulfill her destiny, no matter the cost.
Her best friend, Helga, rushed to greet Åse as well as soon as she spotted her. Her eyes widened in shock as she took in Åse's armless form, unable to hide her dismay. “Åse, what happened to you, sweetie?!"
The ginger slowly nodded her head. "Well, you know how I've always been a bit too giving," she joked, a wry smile playing on her lips. "I guess I just gave a little too much this time,” she let out a soft chuckle, attempting to lighten the mood despite the gravity of her situation.
Helga shook her head in disbelief, struggling to find the right words to express her shock, shaking her head dismissively. "I... I don't know what to say," she stammered, at a loss for words. "You've always been the crazy one," the other woman murmured, her voice tinged with emotion. "But I'm glad you're back, Åse. I missed you.”
Åse gave her friend a genuine smile. "Don't worry about it, Helga," she said with a reassuring smile. "I just made a sacrifice for something greater. It's all part of my journey."
And though some may have viewed her sacrifice with horror or pity, Åse wore her scar with pride, a testament to her unwavering devotion to the gods.
To Åse, the absence of her arm wasn't a sorrowful event, but a mark of pride, a testament to her commitment to Odin and her readiness to give for a noble cause. As she faced the days ahead with a clearer vision and renewed resolve, she understood that her decision was one she'd never rue. By sacrificing a piece of herself, she'd acquired something profound - a bond with the divine and a destiny that would guide her path forevermore.
#original female character#original fiction#original character#original story#fiction#viking themes#kofi commission#writing commission#writing commission open#dark fic#dark themes#original writing#writers on tumblr#tw blood#divider by cafekitsune#original one shot#my writing#my original writing
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Sy One-Shot Coming Soon
I have this one-shot about Sy coming soon.
What's it about you ask? Well, it's about Syverson getting into--wait for it--Pottery! He gets into pottery as a means to cope with his PTSD and falls in love in the process. Then opens his own Pottery business, with reader!
If you want a TAG, comment or reblog with a - 👻 (hehehe)
#Henry Cavill#HenryCavill#captain syverson#Syverson#syverson fanfiction#viking-raider fics#syverson x reader#syverson x you#cpt syverson#One-Shot#Total Ghost Ref
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In His Thrall
Warnings: this fic includes noncon/rape, age gap, power imbalance, size kink.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You serve the king but one day, he assigns you a new duty. (short!reader)
Characters: Harald Finehair (Vikings)
Note: This turned out longer than I intended. It’s my first fic for this fandom. Also tagging @alicedopey for her encouragemnt.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3
Love you all like Mario loves pipes. Take care. 💖
Harald Finehair. The man who made himself king. So the tales say.
Spurned by a beautiful princess, he swore to seize a crown, to make himself wanted by every princess across every realm. Often it is that lives are woven like sheep's wool, to lend an air of romanticism to rejection or war or death. You're not certain what to believe about the king but he does not fall short of his name. His hair braided down his back with fine ornaments of silver and gems collected from lands you'd never know.
It doesn't matter what a thrall believes. You will never make yourself a queen, nor be a princess to deny a suitor, nor even dream of being a wife in her home, minding a hearth and a husband. Your fate is to toil, to serve those who have been chosen to claim a place in Valhalla.
So it is that you watch through the grey mist, receding as if in deference of the king, the Finehair stride by, a cape stitched with the image of a howling wolf swathed in flame, silver on red. He has the bearing of a warrior, confident but stealthy, laughing as he greets a smith and smiles at a passing maiden.
You keep your head down, boning fish with the short curved blade with the wooden handle grooves to your fingers' grasp. You toss each limp body into a bucket as voices swirl in the damp air. Boots mulch on the beaten path as the smell of guts pervades your world. Your bloodied hands are slimy and the blade slips in your hold dangerously.
You balance the knife on the edge of the wooden pail and wipe your hands across the stained apron around your middle, a ribbon of blood streaking past the hem and down your skirt. The mess doesn't bother you much as you check your fingers for damage. The din quiets and a static silence invades as soles kick across the dirt. You sense the change and raise your chin as you reach for the fish knife again.
Another hand scoops it up first, fingers decorated in inky markings above the leather gauntlet. Your breath catches as Finehair's eyes meet yours. As blue as the sky, they see the whole world beneath them. You swiftly retreat and watch the iron blade instead. He stands straight and raises it to the dull daylight
"A fine tool," he remarks.
At first, you can't speak. You don't know if you should. You're not certain if he speaks to you or another under the hide ceiling shucking fish.
"Many thanks, my king," you wisp out at last.
He turns it in his clutch and clicks his tongue, "I'm afraid the scales are too small for my hand," he refers to the knife's bone handle, "but I see it is well used."
"My king," your lashes flutter as you keep your eyes perilously neutral, "I crafted the scales myself. For my hand."
"Such small hands indeed," he squats and holds out the knife, "but toughened and strong."
He offers the knife scales first and you stare at it. Slowly, you reach for it. You gasp as his other hand comes up to catch yours and he clasps you tightly with his thumb, trapping your knuckles against his palm. You think to pull away but know you mustn't.
"But gentle when need be," he turns your hand over and pushes the knife into it, "I'm certain of it."
"My king."
He lets out a soft breath, something akin to laughter but less. He squeezes your fingers around the antler bone and lets you go as he stands. He looms above you as you sit frozen on the low wooden stool.
"A king rewards those who work diligently in his name," he declares, "and King Harald the Finehair will ever be the most generous of kings. Little one, your prize will come. Carry on in your steadfast labour."
"Yes, my king," you bow your head lower, watching the toes of his sewn boots until he goes.
You're uncertain what's occurred. Why he came to you. How he even noticed you among the dozens of thralls. You don't tarry on it however as you must fill the bucket for the king's next meal.
🌙
The drunken din of the feast rumbles from the longhouse, doors open to the early embrace of spring. Dag sits whittling a piece of dingy pine as you sit in the doorway of the thrall's hut, most of the denizens sitting in the grass enjoying the new warmth. You watch the moon, like you do every night, and ponder. The great beacon seems to reflect you in each stage, a sliver worn down only to grow full again, waxing and waning, sinking and rising.
"Hopes there's some scraps left for us," Dag mutters, "last time, I got a whole leg of lamb one of them maidens only nibbled on."
"Mm, this weather doesn't make me very hungry," you drawl as you rise, "and it feels too early to sleep. I may walk a while."
"Ah, but it is too the season of the wolves," he girds as you stretch your arms above you between the lintels.
"I will be aware," you promise him, "and I will keep my knife with me."
You feel the hook paring knife at your belt and look out at the bodies lolling in the grass, watching the stars. Some snore, some whisper, others writhe together as with stifled groans. You don't stare as not to intrude upon their fleeting moment of joy. It is not unusual, many of the thralls seek comfort in each other, though they may not wed.
Your bare feet flatten the dewy grass as it glistens beneath the silver light. A flicker catches your eyes from the open doors of the royal longhouse, figures pass in and out torches licking amber within and glowing through the archway. You continue around the hovel that houses the sleeping mats and sparse possessions of the thralls, nothing more than a pair of boots and a cloak, some less, few more.
You walk along the stalls that house the smiths' anvils and those with the large cauldrons that fire near all day and night, and those further down where you slice marrow and meat. The laundries further to the south and the weavers to the west. Beyond, the sparse forest of still winter-shorn trunks and broken branches. You near as a breeze rustles the untrodden grasses, critters rustling and twigs snapping. You're not afraid, you've never met more than a nosy snowfox or a fleeing rabbit.
The trees tower above as if your strolling among the giants of Jotunheim. You follow the winding pattern of trees, unruly and wild, the noise of the calm river just ahead, drawing you in with its calm babbling flow. Your feet carry you without hesitation, the low buzz of the evening luring you further from the king's house.
Moonlight ripples in the dark waters. You're so fixated on the eerie rings that you don't notice the figure sat upon the shore, a cloak spread beneath him as he tosses pebbles into the pool, further disturbing the rolling surface. You stop, staying close to the nearest tree, thinking to hide behind it as he looks over his shoulder. He hums and you're unsure if you've been sighted.
"Come, little one, you needn't hide," he beckons to you with a large hand, a familiar timbre as the rings on his fingers catch the nightly glow.
You obey. A thrall does nothing else. As you cross the soft ground to him, you're heart leaps at the recognition of his profile, limned by the moon as he turns back to the water, tattoos stark against his complexion. Harald Finehair. You stand by his shoulder, awaiting his next order.
"Sit," he pats the empty space of his cloak beside him.
"Yes, my king," you quickly lower yourself to your knees beside him and fold your hands in your lap, "my apologies, I didn't know you through the dark."
"No? You do not know your king?"
"My king, it isn't my meaning. I did not…" you cover your mouth, "I speak beyond my means. Forgive me."
"Do not be so fearful, and settle," he taps your knee, "stay with me a time. I don't mind the company."
You shift and free your legs from beneath you, bending them instead before you as you hug them. You look ahead to the water and he skips a stone easily, sighing. You sit in the lull of his unspoken thoughts, unnerved by it.
"I know you, even through the dark," he says. "I thought I knew you before… for you remind me of a princess I once met. A woman who is now old, now wed and whelped."
You listen, bringing a hand to your cheek as you turn to watch his hands toy with a stone. He is watching you, you know it, but you cannot return his gaze. It would be undue. He is king, you are thrall.
"My king, I'm not princess."
"And I was not always a king," he says as he tosses the pebble, "but we must listen to the norns when the sing to us."
You nod and flinch, surprised as he reaches to take your hand away from your face. He cradles it as if admiring how small it seems in his calloused palm. Long fingers forged for battle, strengthened by the destruction they've wrought, cleansed in the blood they've shed.
"The norns call me to serve you, my king," you say as he closes his fingers around yours. You tremble at the warmth of his touch.
"They do. I hear them too." He clings to you, admiring your knuckles, "do you know, the soft lords across the sea, when they see a beautiful woman, they kiss her hand. Like this."
He lifts your hand and presses his lips to your knuckles. You clutch him without thinking, squirming at the tickle that flows from the spot. He lowers your hand, petting it with his other.
"You shake. You are frightened?"
You gulp, "you are king."
"Which means?" You bat your lashes and try to turn away but he grabs your chin, forcing it up, "look at me and tell me what it means, lamb?"
His eyes gleam in the moonlight, bold and brilliant like gems. You cower as you look into them, swallowed by their depths, stormy and swirling.
"That you command all to your will," you eke out.
"Yes, that is what it means," his thumb trails up your chin and pushes against your lower lip, "and my will… is that you, my princess, will not turn me away like the one before. For I am king now and will claim my right."
“I am not a princess–”
“I am king. I may deem you princess.”
You close your mouth, foolish to argue before. You demure to him, looking down as he toys with your lip.
“Your king would like a kiss,” he says.
You inhale and your lips part just slightly. A kiss. So simple but you haven’t an inkling how to proceed.
“Must a king show his princess how to give him a kiss?” He asks, half a chide.
“Yes, my king,” you breathe, “I do not know how.”
“You do not? A beautiful princess like you?”
You dare to look up again. He leans in slowly as he tilts your head up, finger curled beneath your chin. His scent surrounds you, musky sweat underlined with a hint of some fragrant herb. His lips meet yours and you squeak, his lips soft despite the rest of him. He moves them gently, sliding his tongue between yours. He pokes past them, tasting you, the act growing more fervent, more hungry the longer you’re enmeshed.
He turns completely, urging your arms away from your legs, a hand on your shoulder as his other slips around the back of your head. He lays you down as he holds himself over you, mouth still crushed against yours. He snakes his arm under you as he consumes you, groaning as he traps you under him. His knees push down between yours, pinning you tighter as his weight strains on your skirt.
“Move your mouth with mine, lamb,” he whispers as he parts for only a moment.
You obey. He calls you princess but you are thrall still. If you don��t do as he commands, he will have you whipped. Like any other master, like any other slave. He moves his pelvis strangely, rubbing against you he drones.
He lifts himself on his elbow and shifts his knees as he blindly tugs at your skirts. You have no strength to move. You have no right to resist. The king wants this and so he will have it. Just as he took his crown. He proclaimed it to be, and so it was.
He pushes your skirt to your thighs, the thin wool brushing roughly against your goosepimpled skin. His fingertips make you twitch as they graze the tender flesh and he tears his lips from yours. He smears his wet mouth down your cheek.
“I always wanted to… taste a princess,” he growls as he drags his lips along your jaw, “you must be sweet, lamb…”
He kisses down your neck and chest, his hand coming up to feel you through your bodice. You shudder and flatten your hands against the ground. He trails further, burying his face between your breasts and nuzzling with a snarl. He gropes you as he descends, his other hand hook up to trace the crease of your legs.
You tense as he brushes along the coily hair, twisting it around his fingers as he flips your dress over your stomach. He kneels, bending over you as he hovers his head over your pelvis, his breath scouring you as he swipes a digit between your folds. You suck in air and your fingers clasp a wrinkle in his cloak beneath you.
He exhales as he lowers himself on his elbows, framing the angle of your pelvis with his index and thumb. You fidget as his nose touches your thicket of hair and he breathes you in. A coolness meets your heat, parting it as you let out a yelp of surprise. He spreads his hand across your pelvis, holding your still as his tongue explores you.
It’s strange. It feels wrong. You wouldn’t know and it can’t matter. The king will have whatever part of you he desires. His fingers flutter up your thigh and poke along your lips. He rubs you in time with his tongue, up and down, around and around, stirring an unknown tide within you.
Your breath hitches and your eyes close on their own. You tilt your head back and arch your back, the sensation leading you. He prods at you, dipping a finger past your entrance, only the tip as he wiggles it. You mewl as his lips circle your bud and he sucks, the pressure thrumming there, pulsing.
He slides his finger to the first knuckle, then the last. You whimper as he pulls it back and forces it back in. The loud lapping of his tongue mingles with the noise of the river and the wet clutch of your cunt. He tends at you steadily, building and building, until you’re quaking and crying in an eruption of fiery delight.
He eases you through your climax, letting you down little by little as he spreads his tongue against your cunt, drinking you up greedily. He lifts himself, his short beard glistening as he licks his lips. He sits back on his heels, thick legs bent in his legs as his hand settle in his lap.
“You taste like Valhalla,” he snarls as he picks at the laces, “you must feel like it too.”
You pant as you put your hand over your chest, feeling how your heart pounds. You cannot speak, you wouldn’t dare too. Your fear has sunk to confusion, your body torn between torture and longing. He moves closer and grabs your hip with one hand, pushing you onto your side.
You roll over as he guides you wordlessly, his long, heavy breathes like wolfish growls. He braces your waist and pulls your ass up, forcing you to your knees. You plant your hands on the wrinkled cloak as he squeezes you. He impatiently runs his hands back to bunch your skirt and twists it as he holds it above your ass.
You’ve seen it before. The other thralls sometimes engage in the same position. The sounds of their flesh claps as their shadows buck furiously. Your walls clench as you think of it. His free hand kneads your ass and he taps you lightly. You moan and he scratches his nails up your skin before he pulls his touch away.
He presses his tip between your cheeks, following the line as he lets out a deliberate grown. He rubs his swollen head against your wet folds, his voice drones louder at the slick friction. He grunts as he angles himself against your entrance. He pushes in and a dull pain spreads through your cunt.
He gets his tip past the slight resistance of your body. He snarls and grips your rumpled skirt tighter. A heavy agony aches in your bones as he dips deeper, stretching you around him painfully as stunted breaths escape his lungs. His sneering grows loud, more impatient, and he jerks his hips so you cry out.
It's as if you’re being rented in two. Your pelvis rings and a pang rolls up your spine. You heave as your arms collapse beneath you. He thrusts again and you shriek. You’re not prepared. You could never be for this. But you must allow him his will. You are bound to serve him.
“Oh, princess,” he clutches your skirt in his fists and lets it rest against your lower back, guiding you with the tension in the fabric, “oh, my little one, how you welcome me. As if you were…” he grunts and sinks to his limit, lingering as he wiggles his hips, “built for me…” he pulls back, “by the gods themselves.”
You whine as your eyes well and spill onto his cloak. His scent seeps into you as your fingers furl stiffly. He rocks, long strokes echoed by longer groans as he brings his pelvis to meet your ass over and over. His pace builds, little by little, faster, harder, deeper, as the impact carries with the river, your pathetic whimpers lost to his greedy growls.
You turn your face down and hide your head beneath your arms as you holler. You can’t hold back anymore. It hurts. It hurts so bad and you want him to stop. And he will. Eventually. When he is spent, when he has deemed your duty done.
“Little one,” he wraps his large hands around the curve of your waist, framing your sides as he ruts into you relentlessly, “the king has found his princess. The king— will have his queen.”
#harald finehair#king harald#viking#fic#dark fic#dark!fic#vikings tv show#one shot#harald finehair x reader#dark harald finehair#dark!harald finehair
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Oceans - Ubbe Ragnarsson
Summary: Ubbe stumbles upon a person in the woods.
A/N: This is really just me trying to get back into writing Vikings cause I've been in the mood to lately.
Vikings Masterlist
✰ ✰ ✰ ✰
Mud caked the rims of your boots, soles sinking into the grass as you stood at the edge of the wooded area, fingers gripping the hilt of the knife that was secured on your belt. Through the trees, seemingly ignorant of the violent rain that was obscuring a usually clear line of vision, stood a man in armor like you’d never seen before. He was tall, taller than men you were used to, and everything about him was entirely foreign. The snap of a branch under his foot had alerted you to his presence in the woods. You weren’t alone any longer. Like a little kid coming across a wolf on the forest path, you felt frozen in space. Usually quicker on the draw, and on the defense, you were stuck in limbo just waiting. Who would move first? You or this man who looked like he had just startled a deer and was trying to calm it with his immobility.
There were stories, warning tales that floated from village to village the closer you got to the channel about men who came from strange lands and pillaged whatever they could. You were not as unfamiliar with the idea as some of the villagers who repeated the stories told to them. This place was foreign to you too, though perhaps not as foreign as you’d heard their land was. You’d never known anyone who’d gone there and back again or knew anyone who knew anyone who had. It was all speculation, each time growing darker, with sharper teeth and more villainous endeavors. They didn’t just kill, they slaughtered. They didn’t just steal, they burned whole villages to the ground. As if the devil this village feared had possessed them, sent them up from hell to do his bidding on the good, true christians that had stolen you from your home and sold you to the family you lived with for a price you could never hope to pay off.
“There are more of you?” You spoke saxon, hoping he knew something of the language you’d been forced to adopt. It wasn’t yours and you realized that he knew that when he tilted his head. Eyebrow quirked and for a split second you forgot how tall and demonic and out of place he was because he looked as bewildered as the little boy you kept watch over when you tried to explain the phenomena of the universe.
Finally he nodded. He didn’t seem afraid at all and you didn’t blame him. Who were you to inspire fear in anyone? You let go of the hilt of your knife, chancing a step toward him. The only thing he could be doing, by not yet killing you, was biding his time. If he assumed that you were faster than he was, that you knew the woods better than he did, then he could assume that you would reach the closest village sooner than he and his men would. And if you did, it could give them chance to run, though you could assume that running was in vain. This man looked the very part of death and it was an inevitable fact of his existence that wherever he went, so did it. Even if you ran, even if you warned whoever you had to warn, he and his people would find you and kill you and it would mean nothing.
Though you life so far had meant nothing anyway. “I’m not going to run away,” you continued speaking. He had understood you before. “I’m not afraid of you.” That was a lie and the little half smile that he gave you told you that he knew it was a lie.
“No?” He took a step closer to you, leaves crunching beneath his boots.
You swallowed the nerves that bubbled up into your throat, keeping your gaze on him and your stance relaxed. You weren’t afraid. What was the worst he could do to you? Kill you and put you out of the abject misery that your life had equated to since you had been brought to this village? Leave you alive and take you back across the sea to wherever he was from so that you could live exactly as you lived here somewhere else? You had no alliance to the people in the village where you lived.
The closer he got to you, the better you could see him and you were struck with the odd thought that he was incredibly attractive. There was something about the way he moved that vaguely reminded you of something you once knew in another life. You could see also, as the rain began to lessen, that there was a series of small markings tattooed into his skin, parallel to his eye. You hadn’t seen anything like that in a decade, maybe longer. Sometimes it felt like the place you were before this village was an imagination of yours, just a daydream that you invented. Other times, like this one, it felt like you had just been standing in the doorway of your little house watching your father sharpen a sword.
“Perhaps you aren’t afraid,” he teased when you reached your hand out and touched the side of his face where the tattoo was.
Just as quickly as he’d felt the roughness of your fingers against his cheek they were gone, your hand clutched to your stomach as if you’d been burned. “You’re going to kill them?” You asked, not daring to look away. He could devour you if you even blinked and you knew he would not hesitate to do so.
“We are already on our way.”
Ubbe had split from his brother at the sound of a brook, eager for water after the long journey to shore. When it’d begun to rain he had abandoned the expedition, heading back towards the encampment to rejoin his brother and his army. It was then that he’d seen you, standing in the middle of the forest and staring at him as though he were some apparition sent by the gods. He’d been on shores like these before, had seen other saxons. They were nothing inspiring, if not for the wealth of land and riches that were offered in the raids, they offered little that peaked his interest. But there was something in your eyes, even through the dense rain he knew you were different. And when you spoke, the accent that carried your words was nothing like the saxon ones he had grown accustomed to. You were no christian.
You wondered what repayment of a debt entailed for his people? Would these supposed heathens be as brutal as your christians had? Surely not. “Would you take me back with you? Is it foolish...to beg for my life?”
“Are you begging?” The way he asked was almost teasing. As if he was saying ‘weren’t you the one who said you weren’t afraid’. When you squared your shoulders, the hand that had caressed his face going back to your knife, he smiled. You were positively enticing.
“No.” You replied, forcing yourself to keep yours eyes locked with his. They were blue like the ocean. Like the stream by the house that you vaguely remembered living in as a child.
“What about your people?” Ubbe asked, looking passed you as he spoke. Unlike you, unsurprisingly, he wasn’t afraid to look away. What could you really do to him. You doubted your knife would do more than tickle him. “You’ll let them die?” He’d encountered plenty of saxons and while he had little respect for them, he didn’t know them to abandon each other.
“They’re not my people.” You explained, “they are nothing to me.” It would be beyond your ability in saxon to tell him exactly what they were. To explain the pain and anguish that you’d suffered all these years though you suspected he knew by the way his eyes softened at your words. Still tall and intimidating and yet, his eyes made you doubt that he could be as terrible as the stories you’d heard. No one with eyes that soft could kill the way these men supposedly did. Or maybe he could, but you couldn’t believe that he would kill you that way.
“What should you have me do?” He asked, though he had already made up his mind. Possibly when he first saw you. Bjorn had told him once of a person he’d taken back to camp with him as a sort of trophy and he’d heard stories of Athelstan from men who’d travelled with his father. Whether it was some hereditary thing in him, a need to possess something beautiful and different, or whether it was something about you and the way you stood so unafraid in the middle of the woods and refused to cave to him, he knew that he was already planning to take you home with him.
“I could work...if you gave me passage. I could work to pay you back.” You offered.
Ubbe frowned in thought, reaching his hand out and running muddy fingers against your hairline. The caress felt almost intimate and for the first time since you saw him in the clearing you let yourself lose focus, closing your eyes for a moment as you leaned against his touch. When he pulled away, you opened your eyes, tensing again as if you had never let yourself relax.
“What would you do?” He asked, blue eyes shining as they met yours again.
“Anything.” You promised, “I have nowhere to return and I will not die.”
“You refuse it?”
“If you wanted to kill me, you would have.” You reasoned, knowing it was true. There had been plenty of moments from when he saw you to now that he could have killed you. He could have done anything he wanted to but you were both still standing here in the woods and it had started to rain again and you could smell the smoke in the air. “So then, if you’re going to let me live...take me away from here.”
#ubbe x reader#ubbe x oc#ubbe x you#ubbe x y/n#ubbe imagine#ubbe ragnarsson imagine#ubbe fanfic#ubbe one shot#ubbe fic#ubbe fanfiction#ubbe ragnarsson fanfic#ubbe ragnarsson fic#ubbe lothbrok imagine#ubbe ragnarsson x reader#ubbe ragnarsson x you#ubbe ragnarsson x y/n#ubbe lothbrok x you#ubbe lothbrok x reader#ubbe lothbrok x y/n#vikings imagine#vikings fanfiction#vikings fanfic#vikings fic#collecting stories imagine
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VIKINGS: VALHALLA
⤷ Season 2 (2023) [insp]
#vikings valhalla#vikingsvalhallaedit#vikings: valhalla#vikingsedit#vvedit#valhallacentral#dailynetflix#usergif#harald sigurdsson#freydis eriksdotter#leif erikson#emma of normandy#mine*#vikings valhalla spoilers#first time making one of these and took so long akjfkdjf#but this season once again has so many scenic shots
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Food for a Viking
Pairing: Hvitserk x GN!Reader
Warnings: Fluff
Words: 401
It was about a week before the fall festival and the preparations for the village were well underway. The whole village had joined in on the preparations and you had joined in. You had started to prepare your home with most of the foods and decorations for the holiday and had seemed satisfied with how you decorated.
You had just finished with some of your chores for the day, there was a soft knock on your door making you smile softly. You walked over to the door and opened it and your smile widened as you locked eyes on Hvitserk.
His face lit up at the site of you stand in the doorway. Hvitserk bounced lightly on the soles of his feet, his body covered by his furs from the cold outside. “Y/N! How are you, my love?!” He spoke rapidly before springing forward to press multiple kisses to your cheek, making you giggle as you wrapped your arms around his waist.
“I’m alright, handsome. And you?” You smiled widely up at him as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders after shutting the front door.
His grin was permanently sewed into his face as his eyes traced your features. “Much better now that I’ve seen you.” He spoke breathlessly as he swayed you both side to side.
You sighed as you buried your face into the crook of his neck and he buried his face into the top of your head, smelling the natural sent of you.
You both stood there for a moment before he pulled himself away from you by a hair and then he pressed a passionate kiss to your lips, taking your breath away from the amount of pressure and passion he used.
You had just started to press a kiss back into him before he pulled back and licked his lips to taste you on them. He gave a big grin as his hands came up to cup your cheeks and pressed a kiss to your nose.
Not even a moment later, his nose twitched, and he took a deep breath through his nose. He looked at you with even more adoration in his eyes. “Did you make roast beef?”
You gave a deep belly laugh as he let you go to go over to the table where you had laid out some food.
“You’re such a glutton.” You shook your head with a giggle.
#hvitserk imagine#hvitserk x reader#hvitserk x gn!reader#fandom imagine#reader insert#gn reader#vikings imagine#vikings one shot#hvitserk one shot
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Burden to Bear
A/N: As you can see I couldn’t choose between the two gifs. This ended up longer than it probably should have. Not edited. Enjoy!
Word Count: 2,892
Pairing: Hvitserk x fem!reader (ft. Ivar)
Warnings: Violence, language, kidnapping, taunting, and death
You were a prisoner in your own home. Invaders from the north raided and plundered your land. They hadn’t simply pillaged, they had made camp. They treated themselves to the food, treasures, and women.
At night, you prayed and would cover your ears whenever you heard the screams. The awful screams of someone else’s pain that you could do nothing about. It was too much. Too brutal. You had been lucky to haven’t endured such an atrocious act.
The person who had found you was a fair blue-eyed man. He didn’t yell or use force when he found your hiding spot. He simply gazed at you in admiration. He beckoned you out with soft gentle words. You didn’t want to abandon your safe haven but when others barged in with hostility you found yourself running behind the man seeking any sort of barrier from these bloodied broad men.
Your captor held some sort of power. He walked with a crutch and held no weapon but he was respected for when he spoke on your behalf, they left you alone entirely.
The man had shown you kindness and kept you in a room. You had been grateful not to be in chains.
You bide your time. There was an advantage with it just being him and no one else. All you had to worry about was the others that were beyond the house.
When the opportunity did present itself, you did escape that was when you learned the hard way how fortunate you had been being kept away. You stumbled upon piles of bodies, an animal sacrifice, people fornicating in various areas, and interrupted some sort of ritual going on. You were beyond terrified and in your state of panic, Ivar had captured you once more but this time you went willingly.
Several days had passed, too many to count. Every day was much of the same: Ivar coming into the room to try and talk, giving you food, and then locking the door.
You were grateful to at least be in a grand room. Though there were no windows. No light to tell you what time of day it was. You felt as if you were withering day by day. A little piece of yourself chipping away. You saw no one else but Ivar and it sickened you to think that you craved a little interaction with the man who held you captive.
Your captor, Ivar would try and coax you to speak to him but you’d turn your head to look elsewhere. He’d speak in a soft comforting voice. He’d tell you all sorts of things such as he would never harm you, provide you with the best care but couldn’t let you go, and how he can give you a life full of happiness if your heart would allow it.
He cared for you which was confusing. This man didn’t know you, just as you didn’t know him. He spoke how his gods whispered in his ear how you were there for a purpose. He took it as a sign that you were for him to love and cherish.
His gods were nothing more than false deities he and his people chose to live by as a way to do inexplicable acts without consequence. So that’s why every night you chose to ignore Ivar even going so far as not eating the food he provided.
You prayed for a miracle. Something or someone to save you from this hell.
****
“I heard you’re hiding a great beauty from me, brother,” Hvitserk spoke as he approached Ivar who was guarding the house that the men had told him about. Word had spread far and wide that Ivar had conquered yet another village but was reluctant to move on, all because of a mysterious woman he wanted to coax into loving him.
Hvitserk didn’t hesitate to jump on a boat and sail here. He hadn’t forgiven his brother for all that he’s done. He wanted to make Ivar pay. Killing him would be too easy so he’d take little by little until Ivar will only be a shell of a man.
“What if I am?” Ivar’s posture was defensive. His blue eyes were bright and alert at the arrival of his brother.
“I’m just a little curious as to why you’d do such a thing? The men have said you’ve been hiding her in this home. She’s left unbound, fed better than most, and isn’t being used for pleasure or for labor work. Why is that, Ivar? Do you have a new obsession I’m unaware of?” When Ivar said nothing, Hvitserk smiled condescendingly. “Let’s have a look, shall we?” Hvitserk took a step forward only for Ivar to stop him with his crutch.
Hvitserk looked down crossed between his inner anger and smugness. He hit a nerve within Ivar and he wanted to keep at it.
“I’m afraid I can’t let you do that brother.” Ivar dug his crutch deeper into the wood making his point known.
Hvitserk clicked his tongue in distaste. “Why not?”
“We both know why you came here. You’re not here on my behalf but your own.”
Hvitserk’s mouth quirked into a smile. He would not make it easy on his brother.
“Don’t want me to tarnish your precious jewel as you did mine?” This time when Hvitserk spoke, he looked at Ivar. His expression now became serious as he thought of Thora and the fate that Ivar sentenced her. She was burned alive. One of the worst possible things a person can befall. She was nothing short of sweet and Ivar did that to her. Hvitserk’s nostril flared as he got in Ivar’s face. “What would you do if I were to taint your precious jewel? Would you look at her differently? Would you still want her or would you let me have her?” He asked, cocking his head.
“She’s not to be touched,” Ivar spoke through clenched teeth.
Hvitserk chuckled. “Like you did with Thora?”
Ivar sighed heavily. “It was different with Thora.”
“How was it different? You burned her alive.” Hvitserk had his fists clenched. He had to remind himself not to pummel his brother just yet, afraid that if he did so, he wouldn’t be able to stop. Ivar didn’t deserve to die just yet not until he suffered first.
“If you were in my position of power you would’ve done the same,” Hvitserk shook his head but Ivar kept going. “You would eliminate any and all those oppose to your rule.”
Each time Ivar spoke it only infuriated Hvitserk more.
“That’s the difference between us, brother,” Hvitserk seethed. “I wouldn’t have ordered a family to be killed. Only cowards have others do their bidding.” He got close to Ivar making sure he’s to hear what he has to say. “If I’m to do something drastic, I’d do it myself.”
He pushed away the crutch from Ivar’s grasp and then kicked his foot before walking past. Before Hvitserk could make it too far, Ivar crawled and grasped his legs tripping Hvitserk too.
They scrambled on the floor kicking up dust and dirt.
Hvitserk was quick to jump on top reaching for Ivar’s crutch and hitting him once with full force knocking his brother out cold. He breathed heavily getting high off the adrenaline he was feeling.
Hvitserk stood up looking around to see that no one was in sight to see the brothers quarreling. He gathered himself and headed straight for the house where Ivar’s prized treasure resided. He checked every room until there stood but one.
He turned the handle only to find it locked. He muttered profanities at his frustration then brought out his knife trying to pry the lock loose. After several minutes, he gave up and decided that perhaps he was wasting his time.
He started to walk away when thoughts of Ivar arose. He thought of his Thora and how helpless she was against his brother. He used that to fuel his anger. He turned around quickly and kicked at the door with newfound fury. It didn’t budge, but at the sound of it, he was sure he could get in if he persisted, so that’s what he did.
Little by little the door started to crack under the pressure. As the wood started to splinter Hvitserk kicked harder than the last. He used all his energy in one final attempt and the door gave way bursting open.
Upon entering the establishment Hvitserk eyed the room disgusted at how big it was. He was angry with the fact that Ivar provided a stranger, no a slave, with this much luxury while warriors slept outside.
He was so very angry that his Thora was dead by being burned alive while this woman was being doted on by his brother.
His eyes wandered looking for the woman in question. There was hardly any place to hide so he looked at the bed knowing she was under there. He stood on one side before he got down on his hands and knees to look underneath.
He saw her scrambling away on the other side to get away. He smiled then stood upright just as she had. His smile began to falter as they locked eyes, both breathing heavily.
Looking at her felt familiar somehow. At that moment, he didn’t want to hurt her like he intended. He was more confused than anything just like she seemed to be as she stared back completely ignoring the broken-down door that she could just as easily run out of.
Hvitserk kept clenching and unclenching his jaw as he debated with himself. He felt something. A different feeling that had his heart racing, only more soothingly. He took in the features of your face and how brightly your eyes shined. He liked how delicate you looked but also a sense of capability. Knowing that you can hold your own despite not being a warrior. He wanted to approach you carefully without scaring you off.
You looked back at the stranger before you trying to catch your breath. After hearing him trying to break the door down you thought the worse but now he stood there simply staring.
There was something in the way he looked at you that you hoped he wouldn’t do anything to cause harm. It was as if your eyes were communicating what your souls couldn’t.
It was a strange feeling to try and put trust in him. This beautiful stranger. He lowered his head but didn’t break eye contact as he tried to take a step around the bed that barricaded you two.
Your breath hitched watching him try to get closer. He was still dangerous. The fact that he had weapons on him proved so. You clenched your dress trying to stable yourself but not being able to move whether from fright or curiosity.
He raised his hands in the air you gathered as a means to calm you.
He was only able to take a few steps before he kicked the leftover food you hadn’t eaten. The plate clattering on the floor is what snapped you out of it. He closed his eyes already knowing he messed up. When he looked up you had already taken off towards the door and out of the house you’d been confined in.
You knew the layout of the land but not where they had set out headquarters. All you knew were the areas to avoid the last time you escaped. The best option was to head towards the open hills that led into the woods. It would expose you but if you made it to the woods, there was a chance.
It was a risk you were willing to take. You took off in a sprint ignoring the yells and horns. Your heart was pumping as your only focus was the woods just ahead, so close yet so far.
You didn’t dare look back, fearing that what you see will stop you completely. When an arrow pierced a spot just a few inches away that’s when you began to alternate your running to throw them off course.
Upon entering the woods, you hadn’t looked to see where you were going and tripped on a tree branch. Just as soon as you fell an ax pierced the tree ahead, mere seconds from killing you hadn’t you been tripped.
Your knee burned and your hands were scraped but you swallowed back the pain and continued on. Survival was your only option. You began to breathe heavily growing tired. These men knew how to hunt and would be in their element hunting you in here. You tried not to let those thoughts deter you from your goal.
The sounds grew louder but you kept going.
It all abruptly stopped when you were tackled from behind. Your face was dug in the dirt before you were hauled up.
“Fast little bitch, aren’t ya?” There were a total of five men all circling you. The one that caught you pushed you into another.
“So this is what she looks like,” he gripped your chin harshly as he examined you head to toe. That’s when you spit at him.
“Whore,” he seethed before slapping you to the ground. The man you spat on clutched the front of your dress lifting you towards him. Before he could do anything a sword was unsheathed and a grunt was heard followed by a thump.
The man let you go and stepped back as he looked at something behind you.
You sat up and looked behind to see the same stranger from before. His sword was bloodied and the man he killed was lying face down. He had a different expression on his face now.
“Hvitserk,” the man spoke in surprise. “We were only trying to apprehend your brother’s possession.”
“He will not be too pleased to see that you have inflicted pain on her.”
Your heart raced at hearing him speak.
The man he spoke to said nothing in return making you wonder what type of authority he held.
Hvitserk wiped the blood on the dead man’s shirt before he sheathed his weapon. He approached you carefully. He bent down on his knees and raised his hand cautiously before touching your face near where you had been slapped.
“Does it hurt?”
You closed your eyes hating that his touch was gentle and how he was making your heart race. This was the enemy. You opened your eyes seeing that he was still here and waiting.
You nodded, “it stings.”
“They’ll pay for ever laying a hand on you. This I swear.”
You believed his words knowing that he’d see it through. He brushed your hair aside and then gathered you in his arms as he began to walk back. As he was walking all you could do was stare up at him in wonder.
“What are you going to do with me?”
He clenched his jaw and sighed. “I don’t know yet.” He seemed to be just as conflicted.
“Are you going to hurt me?”
At this, he looked down at you. “Don’t trouble yourself with all these questions. My brother will take care of you. The best thing for us both is for me to leave.”
You inclined your head to take a better look at him. Ivar was his brother? He was going to leave after your encounter? It was unexplainable but you felt a little down after hearing all of this.
“Take me with you.”
Hvitserk let out a chuckle thinking you were joking then it died down once he saw your serious expression. He stopped walking and lightly touched your bruised cheek. “I can’t guarantee your safety especially since I fully intended on hurting you to get at Ivar. I’m not a good man. None of us are.”
You grasped his hands in yours, desperate to just leave this place.
“I know you won’t let anything happen to me.” You looked down, a bit bashful for what you were about to say. “I feel a connection with you and I know we’re unlikely partners. Ivar will never let it happen and he won’t ever let me go. I don’t have to stay with you long, just somewhere safe.”
Hvitserk gently tipped your chin up to look into his eyes. He was closer than he was before and you hadn’t noticed. “My brother has a temper. He may say he loves you now but betray him and leave with me, there’s a possibility he’ll come to kill you. Are you willing to take the risk?”
You nodded. You were going by instinct and they were telling you to trust Hvitserk rather than Ivar.
You both sat out on that hill looking at each other knowing that there would be a mess once you both left but there needed to be a plan. First, he needed to deal with the men who had hurt you. Second, dealing with Ivar once he awoke. Third, plan the escape. Fourth, leaving it all behind and forgetting the consequences.
That night the man who shot his arrows at you was pierced by multiple. The man who threw his ax was decapitated. The man who slapped you had lost both his hands. The rest were hanged.
The executions were all ordered out by Hvitserk himself.
#Hvitserk#Ivar#Hvitserk x reader#Hvitserk drabble#Hvitserk one shot#Hvitserk Lothbrok#Ivar Lothbrok#Hvitserk x you#Hvitserk x reader insert#Vikings
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Csn you do one with bjorn where he meets a Christian women and the feel in love with smut and fighting like she hates him at first please
Thank you very much for requesting one! I am so so touched. This is my first ever request tbh. I really really hope this will be something you'll love to read!
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. THIS IS NOT FOR YOU, NOR YOUR EYES. THANK YOU
Bjorn and Halfdan got back from the mediterranian before Ivar and Hvitserk from the Saxons. Ivar was drunk on their victory, blood-thirsty still. The people of Kattegat looked over the ships in horror. Some were packed to the brim with people they took back to be slaves. The women were crying, the children too, the some men they brought just sat with emotionless faces. Bjorn walked and looked at all of them one by one. A single woman stood out of all of them. She wasn't wearing fancy clothes, she probably wasn't anyone important. Ivar would've killed those anyway. Yet this woman was trying to calm the women and children with a straight face. She told them that everything will be allright. One of the saxon men hit her when she tried to console his wife. Spitting on her when she was on the ground, saying that she cannot know that it will be allright, they'll all be sacrificed or just killed for something they had no control over, something that they could not fight.
The vikings standing around enjoyed this show. Bjorn walked closer to watch too. One of the vikings threw a dagger next to the brave woman on the ground with a smirk. She looked at it, then looked at the wife of the saxon man, with their child in her hands. She took the dagger, and held it to the neck of the man.
-You better get yourself together for your family's sake. You are in a land you don't know, surrounded by people you don't know. They depend on you for survival wether you are all slaves or not. I only spare you because i do not wish for your family to know how to make ends meet without anyone to protect them. To make it alone... - the woman said before giving back the dagger to the viking, who laughed and grabbed her ass, yanking her close to his body. The woman did not care for herself, she punched the man in the eye, who fell on his backside, before she spat on him, and walked away, making the rest of the men laugh. She knew mercy, she was wise and strong, yet she was brave enough to humiliate someone who were way above a mere slave. She must have noone to look after, and to care for her.
Bjorn's jaw clenched, but he just walked away, and into the great hall where his brothers an Lagertha were.
-Bjorn.. you arrive at last. - Ivar snarled. - How was your destiny? DId you find it as pleasing as you imagined?
Bjorn just sighed. Ivar was getting way ahead of himself.
-It was satisfactory brother. What are you planning to do with the saxons you brought here?
-Straight to business i see. A lot of Kattegat's good people died when King Harald paid some bastard to attack. I plan to provide slaves for the men so that Kattegat could flourish again.. - he said with a sick smile - for that when i'll be king, i can make it ever greater..
His claim to be king was reasonable, Lagertha knew that sooner or later one of Ragnar's sons will try to take over the power. The seer told her that one of them would kill her someday.
-i want to buy one to help Torvi with my kids. I have seen one that was good with kids.
-Take whichever you want brother. Take it as a gift..
That was how you ended up as a slave in Bjorn's household.
At first he wasn't around much, and when he was, he just watched you from afar as you played with, and took care of his children. Noticing that Torvi wasn't around much, but they never cared for eachother's presence anyways. There was some kind of love, but definetely not the kind you should have for someone that gave you kids. You then stopped, then scolded yourself for even thinking of this kind of thing. You were a slave, far far away from any place you ever knew. The only priority should be to survive. Nothing else. Hopes, dreams and family were out of the picture. The first time in your life you were thankful for being an orphan and having nobody because this way you only really had to worry about yourself.
That winter Bjorn was studying his map in peace, Torvi was in the village with Lagertha while you played with the kids. You urged them not to go on the ice, knowing it was still weak, but they laughed and told you you were just a slave, you had no right to command them. You started to loudly plead for them to get off of the ice. The you hear it break. By the time Bjorn walked out to the front of the house, cuase of his daughter screaming, you put the two boys back on the ice where it was safe, telling them to back inside and change their clothes. You climbet out slowly, looking at your soaked dress, before walking inside to change yourself.
When you walked beside Bjorn, he got a hold of your upper arm, making you flinch as you were already freezing, your lips blue. He wanted to say something, but he changed his mind and he only said Thank you before letting you go to change before you catch a cold.
That night Torvi did not come home, so you cooked soup for the kids and Bjorn. After you put them to bed, you silently placed yourself in the small nook you had as a room, lit a candle and started to patch your dress cause the ice slashed it in places.
Bjorn appeared in the doorway, watching you silently. When you looked up, you pricked your finger and it started to bleed. You hissed and in 2 strides he was kneeling before you taking a hold of your bleeding finger. You tried to take it from his hold, not to bleed on him, but he gave you a stern look, so you stopped moving. He was gently when he swiped off the blood and tied a cloth around it for you. But he made no move to leave, he just looked into your eyes.
-Why did you save them? You could've died.
-They are your children. I am just a slave. Their life is way more important then mine. I have noone to come home to, never had. - you said not looking at him. He curled a finger under your chin to make you look at him.
-We are your family now, this is your home. - he said and you couldn't help but laugh.
-I am your slave, that is entirely different. - you scoffed.
-Then you are not my slave anymore. You are free to stay, or free to go. - he said and you looked at him not understanding. He sighed, and started to explain. - I am setting you free. I want you to think of us as your family, not as someone who own you. We do not own you.
-Big false words.. I will never be free. The Holy God has other plans for me. But it is alright, i know that in the end, my choices will be the ones that matter. - you said, before taking a hold of the wooden cross in your neck. You were so angry you could've cried. But you weren't going to let him.
You were orphaned at a young age, a nunnery took you in. You never knew kindness. Your body was littered with scars from the procedures you had to endure in process to become a nun. They said you were sent by god himself, and that is why you had to endure all this pain, to repell for the sins humans had committed. It was the only life you knew. You were told that if you ever in danger, you have to kill yourself in order to prevent them to corrupt you. You had to stay pure so god would lift to himself to live happily in Heaven. But before you could od it, they captured and unarmed you.
In the middle of the night you were out, kneeling in the snow, dagger before you, silently praying, when Bjorn had found you. He decided not to disturb you, just watch you from afar. He had feelings for you that he cannot understand. You were christian. Sure he hated Athelstan when he was a kid, then he learned to love him. But you were a different case. He felt a pull to you.
-Forgive me father for i have sinned. I have sinned in thought. I.. i had dreams which i cannot understand, aches that i never felt before. I had been practicing repentance but they do not go away. Please lord, guide my soul back to you. - you whispered when you heard steps in the snow. You turned around, pointing the dagger to whoever it was.
Bjorn held up his hands so you knew he wasn't here to hurt you. But you did not lower the dagger.
-Why do you keep watching, following me? - you asked.
-You are a part of our family, i am ought to keep you safe too. There are wolves and bears out here you know. - he said with a smile.
-Good, i should've been dead months ago. - you snarled. His eyes widened.
-What thoughts you asked guidance from your god for? - he asked curiously, as he started to circle you.
-That is between me and my god. - you said arrogantly.
He knocked the dagger out of your hands, and grabbed your hands, holding you close with your back to his chest as he leaned down to whisper in your ear.
-Perhaps thoughts of me are plaguaging you ? - he whispered with a low voice, when the aches returned. When you did not answer he knew he was right. -Ain't nothing bad with those love..
-I am a woman of god, i should've kill myself when your people attacked. - you said not resisting his hold anymore.
-But you didn't, you had a job to do still, your god had other plans for you. - he said, and then shoved your head back, hitting him right in the nose, making him let you go. You grabbed the dagger again, holding it to his neck now. He was not afraid though, his hands held your hips as he yanked you closer, leaning down, nose touching yours.
-You will not hurt me we both know that. Perhaps your god is telling you to live a different live as you did. - he said before softly kissing you sofly. You gasped but did not lower the dagger. You broke his kiss, looking him in the eye.
-Tell me one good reason not to cut your throat. - you snarled at him with hate in your voice.
-You do not want to. You may try to deny it, but we both feel it. I never thought i could want a christian, after my friend was killed, but here i am. And i know you feel the pull too, you must have felt it.
-And what if my god is testing me. The devil is tempting me into sin..
You cannot finish because he grabbed the blade and threw it away, before kissing you passionately. You cannot find in yourself to stop it. You had dreamt of this before, this was why you were praying tonight too. For your god to forgive these dreams and thoughts. And now here you were kissing Bjorn under the moonlight. He gently picked you up, not breaking the kiss before bringing you back to your small room, as he put you in your bed, hovering over you.
-Will your wife kill me tomorrow? -you asked as he caressed your cheek.
-She won't, she is also not my wife. We do not love eachother.
-But you have kids together.
-That doesn't mean we want eachother as companion for life. I freed you because i hope you'd want to be mine cause of your own will, not cause you are a slave and have no other choice. - he whispered before kissing you again.
-You would resent me for my god. - you said holding his collar.
-I don't care what god or gods you pray for. I care that you're by my side. - he said before he kissed your neck. You gasped and pushed him away.
-Did you never...? - he asked and you shook your head. - I will take care of you, i can be gentle. - he smiled at you. Somehow he felt that being your first was something big. He wanted it to be good for you. He slowly undone your dress, making you lay bare under him as he caressed the scars he found. He did not ask about them, he can do that tomorrow, for now he wanted to show you love. His lips followed his caressing fingers as he showered your body with kisses until he settled between your legs. He kissed you womanhood just as he kissed your lips before, yet unfamiliar warmth spread across you as a whimper escaped your lips. You felt him smirk as he started to put a finger inside you between licks, pumping in and out gently. You felt something building inside of you, something wanting to snap. It was unfamiliar, most possibly sinful, yet something you wanted to never stop. When the coil inside you snapped, he climbed up to kiss you and sweep some hair out of your face. He caressed your body all over again before laying down on your bed, making you straddle him. YOu did not know when he got naked, but he had a body that screamed sin and holiness at the same time. You looked at him questioningly when he smiled at you, caressing your face again, then grabbing your chin to bring you down for a kiss.
-This way you'll be in control. I do not want to hurt you (Y/n). You can do it in your pace. - he said as he grabbed your hips and started to move you over his shaft. Not entering, just sliding along it, creating a delicious friction that had you moaning again. He stopped when he felt his tip aligning with your etrance perfectly, and he waited for you to sink down on him, letting him impale you in your own pace. You slowly lowered yourself, welcoming the pain of him stretching you out. When you sank down on him, letting him into you fully, you stopped, waiting for yourself to adjust. You looked at him. His eyes were closed, his hands caressed you.
He suddenly opened his gorgeous eyes, and sat up with you still impaled on his lap as he kissed you passionately.
-You were made for me. - he whispered before he started to thrust in and out of you. The feeling was unfamiliar but not unwelcomed. You felt that sweet feeling build up inside you again. You started to meet his thrusts harder and faster, chasing your release. When your moans became louder, your breathing uneven he took over and pistoed into you mercilessly. You reached your climax in no time, your abused cunt squeezing him so much, he thought it won't ever let go of him again, nor that he wanted to ever leave the warm place that was made for him there. He thought of you carrying his child someday as he came in you, as you small battered body, collapsed on his chest. He put his arms around you, holding you close, drawing small circles on your back.
-Sleep now love. I'll keep you warm. - he whispered before kissing the top of your head. And that is what he did. When you woke up the next morning, you felt sore, but you felt something warm under you. You unconsciously snuggled closer to the source, only to hear a faint rumbling and a little laugh. When you opened your eyes, you were met with Bjorn's blue ones, filled with all the love you ever saw. He was looking at you as if you were something holy. You didn't find the words so you just stared at him.
-Does it hurt anywhere? - he asked. You shook your head and looked down, suddenly shy. He pulled you close again.
-You are so perfect... - he said.
#request#requests are open#one shot#smut#vikings history channel#bjorn x reader#bjorn x you#bjorn ironside#bjorn ragnarsson#bjorn fluff#bjorn smut
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❝the shield maidens challenge❞
✭ pairing : ivar the boneless x reader
✭ fandom : vikings x reader
✭ summary : (y/n) is a shield maiden known for her unique hunting skills and techniques, ivar the boneless decides to put that to the test
✭ vikings masterlist
The air was crisp with the promise of winter as (Y/N) stood atop a hill, her gaze fixed on the dense forest that lay before her. Clad in leather armor, her long hair billowed in the wind, and her eyes held an intense focus. She was a shield maiden, known throughout the land for her exceptional hunting skills and unmatched techniques. Many whispered tales of her feats, of her ability to track prey that would evade even the most seasoned of hunters.
It was said that her eyes could discern the faintest traces of movement, her senses attuned to the subtleties of the natural world. The forest had become her domain, and the animals that dwelled within it were her allies, not adversaries.
But today was different. Word had reached her ears of a visitor, a stranger from a distant land. Ivar the Boneless, they called him—a warrior of formidable reputation and cunning mind. (Y/N) had heard the tales of his conquests, the stories of his audacious strategies on the battlefield.
As the forest rustled with life around her, (Y/N) sensed a presence nearby. Ivar emerged from the undergrowth, his gaze meeting hers with an intensity that matched her own. He was no ordinary warrior; the aura of power and intelligence that surrounded him was undeniable.
"(Y/N)," Ivar's voice was a low rumble, "I've heard of your skills. I've come to test them."
Her eyebrow arched slightly, curiosity mingling with the thrill of a challenge. "And what would you have me do, Ivar?"
A slow, almost imperceptible smile curved his lips. "Track me. Find me before sunset. Prove that your reputation is not mere boasting."
The challenge was laid before her, and (Y/N)'s heart quickened. This was no ordinary test; Ivar had seen through her facade, recognized the truth behind the legends. With a nod, she accepted his challenge, her eyes narrowing as she began to take in her surroundings.
For hours, (Y/N) traversed the forest, following signs and marks that Ivar had left behind. It was a game of wits, a duel of skill and strategy. With each clue, she felt Ivar's presence drawing nearer, his shadowy figure lurking at the edge of her perception.
As the sun began its descent toward the horizon, (Y/N) sensed that she was closing in. The forest grew quieter, as if holding its breath in anticipation. Her senses honed, she moved silently through the underbrush, her heart pounding in rhythm with her footfalls.
And then, she saw him. Ivar stood at the edge of a clearing, his back to her, his stance relaxed yet alert. He turned slightly, acknowledging her presence with a nod. "(Y/N), you have proven your skill," he said, his tone measured.
She stepped into the clearing, her breath coming steady despite the rush of exhilaration. "And you, Ivar, have proven yourself a worthy adversary."
A grin tugged at the corners of Ivar's mouth, a rare display of satisfaction. "The forest is yours, and your skills unmatched. But I offer you another challenge."
(Y/N)'s eyebrow quirked, her interest piqued. "Speak."
"I am assembling a band of warriors, a fellowship of those who value cunning and strategy as much as strength. Join me, (Y/N). Let your legend grow alongside ours."
Her gaze locked with his, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. The wind whispered through the trees, carrying the weight of their unspoken choices.
"I'll consider your offer, Ivar," she finally replied, her voice carrying a promise and a challenge of its own.
And with that, the shield maiden and the cunning warrior stood at the precipice of a new alliance, their destinies intertwined by the threads of skill, strategy, and a shared hunger for greatness.
The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow across the clearing where (Y/N) and Ivar stood. The air was pregnant with the weight of their unspoken agreement, the anticipation of what their partnership might bring. Ivar's gaze held a mixture of respect and intrigue, while (Y/N)'s eyes glittered with a fire that matched his own.
As the last rays of sunlight disappeared, (Y/N) took a step forward, closing the distance between them. "Your proposal is intriguing, Ivar. A fellowship that values strategy and cunning is a force to be reckoned with."
Ivar nodded, his gaze unyielding. "With your skills and my vision, we could shape the world. Forge a legacy that will be spoken of for generations."
Her lips curled into a half-smile. "But I am not one to be easily swayed, Ivar. Joining your fellowship means abandoning my own pursuits, my own path."
His expression remained unwavering. "You would not be abandoning anything, (Y/N). You would be trading one legend for another."
A gust of wind rustled the leaves overhead, and (Y/N) let his words settle in her mind. She had built her reputation as a solitary shield maiden, unburdened by alliances or loyalties beyond the forest that had raised her. But the offer before her was a tantalizing one, a chance to expand her influence beyond the borders of the wilderness.
"I will give you my answer in due time, Ivar," she finally said, her voice steady. "I require space to consider such a significant shift."
Ivar inclined his head in understanding. "Very well. Take the time you need. But know that when you make your decision, the fellowship of cunning warriors will be waiting."
With a final nod, (Y/N) turned away, the weight of the decision heavy on her shoulders. She retraced her steps through the forest, her thoughts a whirlwind of possibilities and uncertainties. The moon emerged from behind a cloud, casting a silvery glow on the path ahead.
As the night deepened, (Y/N) found herself back at the hill where it had all begun. She looked out over the land she had come to know so well, her heart torn between the familiarity of her solitary life and the allure of a destiny intertwined with Ivar's.
The following days were a time of reflection and contemplation. (Y/N) wandered through the forest, her mind a battleground of conflicting desires. The fellowship offered a chance to leave a mark on the world, to channel her skills into something greater than herself. But it also meant letting go of the independence she had cherished for so long.
Eventually, the decision became clear, like a path illuminated by the first light of dawn. With a sense of purpose, (Y/N) made her way to the designated meeting place where Ivar and his companions waited. She walked into their midst, her presence commanding attention.
"I have made my choice, Ivar," she declared, her voice unwavering. "I will join your fellowship. Together, we will shape the world as we see fit."
A triumphant smile played on Ivar's lips as he extended his hand toward her. "(Y/N), welcome to our ranks. The fellowship of cunning warriors is stronger with you among us."
And so, beneath the moonlit sky, (Y/N) embraced her new path, her destiny intertwined with a fellowship that sought not only conquest but a legacy that would echo through the ages. The shield maiden's journey had taken an unexpected turn, leading her into a future brimming with challenges, alliances, and the promise of greatness.
#x reader#x reader oneshot#x reader one shot#vikings x reader#vikings imagine#vikings imagines#vikings#ivar fanfic#ivar lothbrok#ivar x reader#ivar the boneless#ivar ragnarsson#ivar imagine#vikings ivar#ivar x you#ivar x y/n#ivar the boneless x reader#ivar the boneless x you#ivar the boneless x y/n#ivar the boneless imagines#ivar the boneless imagine#vikings masterlist
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Once upon a fairy tale - Ubbe Ragnarson (7)
Barely alive, it’s been a couple of rought weeks BUT I’M BACK. Other parts: Once Upon A Fairy Tale Masterlist
Plot: Ubbe and you take important decisions, about your future and the future of your kingdoms, not knowing that something bigger than you is happening outside the castle’s walls.
When Ecbert told Ragnar about your decision to stay, the king didn’t look surprised at all. He humored you with your father, agreeing about the old age and bad knees. They both exaggerated their physical conditions between laughs, and concurred that they needed to take the hunting trip easy.
From behind your father, you watched with a soft smile the interaction.
You hadn’t noticed until that year how close your father and Ragnar were. Back at Wessex, you didn’t have many friends, and not a relationship as close as them. As you stared at their interaction, you felt your heart growing bigger, feeling that you had taken the right decision.
The moment was cut short when Ubbe and Sigurd appeared. Apparently, Aslaug had had a bad night and wouldn’t be gracing you with her presence. And, since Hvitserk hadn’t shown up for breakfast, he had declined going with them.
The hunting raid was complete and ready to go, you guessed. And it was time to share with Ubbe the news.
Both kings looked at you when the brothers arrived. Before you could notice the difference between them, Ubbe talked.
“I’ve been looking for you” he lifted the corner of his mouth, not completing the smile. “Good morning, father. King Ecbert”
“Ubbe” your father nodded in recognition.
“Where is your saddle?”
Indeed, while Sigurd was wearing his riding clothes, Ubbe was still in his usual, prince-ish robes. Not only he was wearing a long, cobalt tunic with silver embroidery, but he didn’t carry the usual smell of staying in the barn for hours.
When his brother rolled his eyes and walked away, Ubbe smiled. He had had enough time to prepare his horse, clean his riding boots and choose his favorite saddle. If he had wanted, he could have gone to the hunting raid, just as it was planned for him to go.
He liked to hunt. Like the adrenaline of chasing a prey and the silence of the forest. When they hunted, his father and him went back to his childhood, where they shared a deep bond. But he had decided against it.
“I won’t be accompanying you today, after all” Ubbe explained. “There are… matters I need to take care of. Maybe I can help princess Y/N packing”
“You won’t have to” Ecbert interrupted him.
“Oh”
Looking at your father, Ubbe lowered his head. His idea had been to stay behind with the excuse of helping you to pack. He didn’t know why, but after you were interrupted in his chambers, he had felt the need to spend one last day with you. Hvitserk had left the castle early in the morning to complete his weekly activities in the cabin, which included two brunets’ servants and the daughter of the baker.
So there was little chance of being interrupted.
He tried not to show his disappointment, because if you didn’t have to pack bags, then he didn’t have a reason to stay.
“We’ll be… staying. For another day” you explained, not meeting his eyes. “Because my father might get tired in the hunting raid, and it’s a long way back to Wessex. If it’s not a problem”
When Ragnar didn’t answer, Ubbe realized you were talking to him.
It took him by surprise that you were staying, but it was even more surprising that it was just for a day. Because he had known, deep down, that his intention today was to convince you to stay. That, during the last seven days, he had tried; first unconsciously, then as a choice. He started the summer mildly convinced that he had to marry you, and now he didn’t know what he wanted anymore.
Just that a day was an awful short amount of time.
“You could always check the old storage room” Ragnar proposed finally, breaking the silence. “It’s full of games and objects you used as children, and I’ve been asking you to take a look for a while. Maybe Y/N can help you”
“She can. She’s really organized” Ecbert contributed. “Besides, it is a bad day to stay outside. Just let these old dogs enjoy the hunting raid and find something to do. We will be back soon. Don’t want to get too tired”
“Indeed. Only God knows how many days in bed will earn us the hunting trip” Ragnar started at you with an amused smile. “Might be weeks”
“Might be, my dear friend. Shall we go?”
Both kings turned around and walked towards the carriage, that would take them to the designated part of the forest. Where the rest of the town would be waiting, with their dogs and bows ready.
While they walked away, you thought about how lucky you were. Your father would willingly stay for the whole summer if that’s what you wanted to, if that made you happy. He would also cancel the hunting raid and ride back to Wessex himself.
You stayed in silence as they got into the carriage and told the driver to move, until they drew up dust from the path and Sigurd kicked his horse to lead the way.
You had never had any problem talking with Ubbe. With remarks or mean words, you always kept the conversation going until you were torn apart by the adults or one of you couldn’t physically talk. But while the first drops of rain hit the ground, you kept quiet, not knowing what to say.
The meaning behind your decision was clear – that you wanted to try again, that you were willing to finally accept his hand. That you had consciously turned away the chance of changing your fate, consciously had chosen to marry him, without a proposal or weeding plans.
Staying meant you had admitted your intention of moving forwards, to whatever future you could hope for, and now it was Ubbe’s turn to answer. The decision of staying instead of going to the hunting raid could be an answer, but he didn’t know your decision yet.
So you waited, as rain started to wet your hair and soak your dress.
You waited in silence, until a cape was wrapped around your shoulders and a pair of hands turned you away from the path your father had just disappeared from.
“We should get inside” Ubbe spoke through the rain, that had gotten heavy a matter of seconds. “Fuck. It’s – fuck!”
“Oh my god” you couldn’t help but laugh when suddenly you were hit with what felt like a gallon of water.
You let yourself be lead away from the main door while Ubbe wrapped an arm around your shoulder. With a natural instinct, you shifted closer to him until you fit under his arm.
It wasn’t funny, but you couldn’t stop laughing, and soon, Ubbe was laughing too. It wasn’t the pearly smile you had seen that day at the courtyard, that flashed in your mind without your permission. It was different, and at the same time, wonderful.
You ran through the rain, not tripping against each other’s feet by luck. Servants that were taking cover in the barns stared when you passed by, and a man with bulky clothes tried to stop Ubbe with a scandalized scream.
Once you finally took cover, you were soaked. The rain had drenched Ubbe’s cape, now heavy on your shoulders, and the bottom of your dress was full of mud. Even your socks, under thick books, were wet. Still smiling, you stared at Ubbe as he moved your hair out of your face, letting you see his full smile. It was beautiful, his chipped front tooth a reminder of you.
Although he was too drenched to the bones, his hands felt warm, or maybe it was your cheeks. Or maybe you were running a fever and you were hallucinating, because suddenly, it was a déjà vu from that morning. He was looking at your lips and you were wondering what it would feel to stay forever, not just for a day.
His finger hovered over your mouth, a ghost touch.
“You look like a wet rat”
“And you smell like a wet horse”
He scoffed and for a second, you thought he was going to actually kiss you. That he was going to move forward and you were going to meet him at the middle. In a perfect fantasy, he would ask you to stay and you would choose to, not using excuses or prologues.
You would never know, because thunder roared in the sky and the moment was broken.
-
What Ragnar defined as an old storage room was everything but that. It could have been a room, a long time ago, with high windows and a clear view of the forest. But someone had decided to start accumulating things inside, and now you could barely take two steps straight.
You hadn’t bothered bathing, neither had Ubbe. As if not spending every minute of the day together was an offense, you changed clothes with your backs to each other, not even using the bathroom. You chose a dark green dress that showed your boots, comfortable to move, and Ubbe had put on a different tunic.
He showed you the storage room, moving the curtains. Everything was covered with white, dusty sheets, and you were in for a long morning.
“I threw Hvitserk down the stairs with one of these” Ubbe said from behind you, breaking the comfortable silence in the room. “He broke through a window and didn’t even get a bruise”
You looked away from the pile of children’s clothes that you were trying to organize. He was holding up a large piece of wood attached to one wheel, the other missing. Indeed, you remembered using a similar one in some occasions, although you didn’t have a specific memory with it.
Between mountains of garbage, you had found many children’s toys and clothes. After spending a lifetime of summers together, you had gathered a good amount of entertainment options. In a useless attempt of bringing you closer, your fathers had brought you everything a child would want or need. Not realizing until it was too late that you would hit each other with it before sharing.
“Didn’t you race me with one of those in the gardens?” you tried to remember, getting closer.
“You were winning so I tried to shorten through my mother’s roses” he chuckled. “She got mad, but you were furious”
“You destroyed every last of them!” you laughed too, remembering that summer.
It was one of the first ones you spent in Mercia, and you had never used a toy like that one. Thinking you wouldn’t know how, Ubbe had raced you and you had won, and in the meantime, he had destroyed half of his mother’s garden. You remembered her scolding and feeling furious at him.
So angry, that you used his favorite wooden sword as a throwing dagger during the next day.
You moved closer to him, looking at the piece of wood. Even if you had argued more than talked, it wasn’t always boring. There were games and competitions. When you were all young, Ubbe didn’t discriminate you from being a girl, and included you in the games where he thought he could win. Somewhere in the way that changed and your worlds drifted apart.
“You care too much about flowers” he said, raising from where he was sitting.
“It’s not I have many things to care about in here. I can’t cook, train or ride, and needlework is definitely not one of my passions. No matter how much your mother tries” you explained. There was only a foot between you two. “Flowers are… nice. They are beautiful”
“If you want to, I could assign some more servants to the garden. So they can help you take care of them”
If you want to stay, I could make you happy, just so you know
Ubbe let the hidden meaning clear. Because if you left after your father rested, then the garden was the least of your concerns. He couldn’t care less about the flowers or the garden, and he knew right then, that if it made you stay, he would send his whole army to take care of those flowers.
In that dark room, crowded with objects from your past, he waited for you to answer. It was impossible that you hadn’t understood what he meant, and by the way you stared at him, he knew. In just seven days, he had made a decision that had been asked from him for sixteen years. Sixteen years under the pressure of getting to know you and take you as his wife.
Only when you were no longer under that much pressure, he finally saw it clear.
“It would be nice” you answered, your voice small. “You could help me sometimes. If you want to”
Through the window, another lighting broke the sky. The storm was now loud and wild, thunders and lighting accompanying the rain. Someone appeared through the trees riding a horse at full speed, towards the castle. It would take them a while to reach the gates, and you didn’t notice them.
Not when Ubbe’s blue eyes were staring right into your soul, and when yours couldn’t decide where to look – to them or to his mouth.
“You’re staying” he tried, not a question but a fact. A need.
“If you want me to”
Before you could notice the smoke that was raising from the middle of the forest, he crossed the invisible line he had drawn sixteen years ago and pressed his lips against yours. They were rough and demanding, not like the shy, first kisses you had shared with boys in your kingdom.
You could have fallen if it wasn’t for the table that was behind you, or for his hand that pressed your hips against his. There was no air between you two, no space for second guesses. Only his lips and hands on your body, and yours on his neck.
One of yours caressed the back of his head, your thumb brushing the soft hair where his braid started. Not knowing what to you with the other one, you held yourself together by holding onto the desk. Afraid he would let you go and you would crash into the ground, knees turned into jelly.
But he didn’t let you.
With his free hand holding your head straight, demanding more of you, he broke free for air. His pupils were blown, almost no trace of blue behind them. No one had ever touched you the way he was, and you understood that no one would in the near future, if you had a saying in it.
Ubbe didn’t move his hand from your face. Instead, giving you time to push him away, he lowered it down your neck. Something inside him screamed to let go, to forget about what was expected from him and lower his hand more, until there was no turning back. The way you were looking at him, the way you weren’t moving, made it harder.
But he resisted and let his hand go to his original place, to your cheek.
“Are you sure about this?” he asked after a long minute, his voice rough and deep. “We don’t – you don’t have to. Not even if you stay”
“Shut up”
Once more, you crashed your lips against his and he let you, smiling against them. You could feel every curve and corner of his body that you had guessed that morning under the covers. The room’s temperature grew in seconds, and when the hand on your waist moved lower, you let him.
Sixteen years of frustration, hate and disagreement were forgotten as you felt your skirt move higher, his leg making its way between yours.
One thing was to sleep in the same room, to let people assume you were together, but another one was to actually do it. Before you could regret your decision or let your brain caught up with your heart, someone knocked at the door urgently.
“It’s the king! The king is dead!”
Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated
Taglist:
@66vikings
#ubbe#ubbe ragnarson#ubbe lothbrok#ubbe imagine#ubbe one shot#ubbe x reader#ubbe fic#ubbe vikings#vikings#vikings imagine#vikings one shot#vikings series#ubbe series#vikings x reader#ubbe lothbrok imagine#ubbe lothbrok one shot#ubbe lothbrok x reader#ubbe ragnarson imagine#ubbe ragnarson one shot#ubbe ragnarson x reader#hvitserk#sigurd#ragnar#imaginesmai#imagine mai#imagine#one shot#x reader#fic#the swan princess
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Character: Many, but this is about Reader and Ivar
Words: 5608
Warning: 18+ if you are too young, please don't read it.
Honey, Honey, Honey and Sex
Summary: Ivar has promised Reader to go honey hunting with her. There is something between them, but neither is sure what, but they soon seem to find out.
Note: Been a long time since I wrote an erotic one-shot, but here we are.
I had long thought about whom to use for this. I choose Ivar. But I think I'll write one for the others too. (Maybe)
I just have too many ideas in my head.
*Note: Sorry, no beta reader
"What a beautiful day" you spoke as you tore open Ivar's room and walked in. A basket full of flowers in your hand. The room was dark and "What, you're still not awake" you say as you looked at the grumbling Ivar, face pressed into the pillow and the blanket pulled over his head. You put the basket on the table and went to the window and, with a flourish, you opened the curtains. The light of the sun flooded the room.
"Get up, you promised me we would hunt honey" as you arrive at the bed, Ivar grumbled again and turned his face to you "Tell me sweetie, how do you hunt honey? I said we were looking for some" he opened one eye and looked at you. "And what in all the gods do you want to walk so early? The honey is still in its place in the afternoon" he asked. You shrug your shoulders. "Only the early people get rewarded" you replied and as you went to grab his blanket he grumbled again.
"Oh come on Ivar, you promised, don't back out now" slowly you walked to the small table and looked at the deceased flowers that were in a vase, on the table. Slightly you shake your head, if you didn't bring Ivar fresh ones from time to time, no flower would ever decorate this room. You change, the bouquet, while you were closely watched by him, you notice his eyes on your back. You put the wilted flowers in the basket and slowly turn to him.
"We could also look for something else first" he spoke softly, you frown, "And what would that be?" you ask in wonder. "Hmm, how close we really are" you let out a short laugh as you grab the end of his blanket and pull it off his body. Blushing slightly as he lay naked in front of you, you throw the blanket back on him. "Forgive me," you say, turning around. "There's nothing to forgive, sweetie," he says, sitting up.
You were uncomfortable, even that he called you sweetie, even if it flattered you inside. You took the basket and slowly walked towards the door. "Where are you going?" he asked in surprise, "I'll wait for you outside until you're dressed. And hurry up, I don't want anything to get in the way. I want my honey today" you smiled slightly as he looked at you with a look of misunderstanding. He tilted his head, "You could help with" - "With what?" - "To dress me" he looked at you with his puppy dog look, but you just shake your head slightly.
"Hurry up, Ivar" - "But it'll be faster if you help me!" he yelled after you as you close the door. You lean against the door and smile broadly. You could hardly escape his charms, but you didn't want to make it too easy for him, after all, you're not like all the other women. You were a virgin, and you wanted the perfect moment for it. "Are you okay?" asked Aslaug, smiling as she walked past you, stroking your shoulder.
You nodded and went after her "He's stubborn, petulant and bad-tempered" you spoke trying to sound a little annoyed, but your smile betrayed you. Aslaug raised her eyebrows, "Hmm, that sounds like my son" she looked at you, and you both laughed. "Come with me, I want to show you something" she spoke and lightly pinched your upper arm. Aslaug was always fair to you, you were a free woman, even if you didn't really know where your path was leading you yet.
One day you wanted to finish swords like your father, but you knew that this craft did not suit you at all. Actually you wanted to be like Aslaug, but you were not born as a princess, but maybe one day you would be lucky and marry a prince. Together with Aslaug, you entered her bedroom, you looked around in amazement, so here she was sleeping and of course Ragnar, whom you always admired. Being here felt like getting closer to them.
"Look, that dress" she pointed to a dark orange dress and smiled at you. You put the basket on the floor, slowly you approached the princess and looked at the dress, it had beautiful embroidery on the collar, sleeves and hem end and the belt was amber. "It's beautiful" you spoke as you slowly stroked your fingers over it "It's yours, I was going to throw it away because it doesn't fit me anymore, but I think it would suit you, and it would be too bad for the dress" you looked at her with widened eyes.
"You're joking, you look just like you did the day you arrived" - "Pregnant?" - "No, no I mean Beautiful and…and…" you say quickly and put a hand in front of your mouth, you were afraid to say anything more that would make you look stupid. But Aslaug just smiled and ran her hand through your hair. "It's alright, if you don't want it then just say so" but again you looked at the dress and lifted it off the bed, as carefully as if it would tear any second.
"It's beautiful, if I may have it, I'll gladly accept your gift" - "Gift?" it came from ivar, as usual, you first looked up where there should be a head, but then you lowered your gaze. "You did it again" you shake your head and blush. Ivar, who was lying on the floor, narrowed his eyes "Of course, I saw it clearly" - "No I didn't" Aslaug started giggling behind you and that made you blush more.
You pressed the dress against your body and hung your head. "I gave her this dress" she spoke and embraced you, she grabbed the dress and held it in front of your body. "Hmm" came it from Ivar "If you would raise your head I could tell you if it looks good" slowly you raised your head, but you had an annoyed look on your face. "Nah, it doesn't look so good, but if you would smile" he said and a soft smile appeared on your face.
"Beautiful" came out of one mouth from Ubba and Ivar, Ivar looked up stunned at his brother who had just appeared in the doorway. "What?" asked Ivar in disbelief "I said Beautiful, look at her, the dress fits her perfectly" The boys started arguing, you rolled your eyes as you heard Aslaug "I told you it would look good on you" she whispered in your ear and giggled softly, she handed the dress back to you "Thank you my princess, thank you so much, how can I repay you?" You asked, she came a little closer again.
"Just do what you have always done for my son" she spoke and walked past the arguing boys, she smiled at you once more before she disappeared "Okay, okay… I get it, yes…. She's yours" you just heard Ubba say. "What?" you ask stunned, "I don't belong to anyone…" Ubba raised his hands apologetically and Ivar, looked at you questioningly, but he smiled.
"Put it on" he nodded at the dress in your hands. "And you, help me with my Greaves" - "At your command" said Ubba and went after the crawling Ivar, but he didn't miss showing you a hand gesture that meant you looked great in the dress. You smiled broadly, but it disappeared when you realized that you were standing alone in the bedchamber of Aslaug and Ragnar. You folded the dress and took the basket, then you went into the great hall, Ivar lying on the furs, by the throne and Ubba, putting on his Greaves.
You grinned as you heard the muttering Ivar and the grumbling Ubba, and decided to go to Ivar's room. No one would bother you, the two brothers were busy, and as far as you knew, Hvitserk and Sigurd were out hunting. At the thought of hunting honey, you grinned widely again. Wild honey was the best, only how do you tell Ivar that you were afraid of bees?
When you had changed your clothes, you walked unsteadily to the great hall. The basket in your hands again. You looked at the dress that clung to your body, the hem dancing with each step. "Ah, be careful, Ubba," cried Ivar, raising his upper body to look crossly at his brother. But Ubba looked to you and paid no attention to Ivar. He pulled again on the buckle and Ivar cried out another time, worriedly you looked at Ivar who just slapped Ubba one with the flat of his hand. "Huh?"
"I said be careful!" yelled Ivar and then looked at you as well when Ubba didn't take his eyes off you, his mouth was open. "Wow, now that, you should wear that more often than those wide dresses" he spoke and sat up. You smile at him and blush. Ivar looked at Ubba and his grin faded, he nudged his brother's head briefly, "Now don't stare, and close that last buckle"
"Beautiful," this one said and stood up, Ivar looked at him dumbfounded "Hey…" he shouted and pointed at his legs, but Ubba didn't react. He took the basket from you and placed it on the floor before grabbing both of your hands and spreading them out, so he could get a better look at you. Ivar groaned as he stood up "Well, if, Ivar, doesn't want to go looking for honey with you, then I'll be happy to come" you smile sheepishly as you look at Ivar, he had almost reached the two of you.
"I think he'll mind," you say, grinning broadly as Ivar moved to stand beside you, looking at Ubba with raised eyebrows. "Ivar, you didn't want to go out anyway. Outside the sun is shining" Now Ivar dropped his eyebrows and narrowed his eyes "Huh? I'll go with her, and you stay here with your hairy butts" he spoke and pulled your hands out of Ubbas. You grin slightly and put a hand on his forearm, he hasn't acted like that in a long time.
Ubba raised his hands "As you wish" he winked at you and walked backwards "And don't get stung" he pointed at both of you before turning and disappearing. Inside you the sentence caused pure panic, Ivar just laughed, "You're going ahead for a minute? I have to get something, it won't take long" he spoke. But you looked at him questioningly, what did he want now? But then you nodded when he started to smile. Slowly, you made your way out of the great hall. Somehow, you felt abandoned and out of place when Ivar took longer than he promised.
You lean against a wall of the house, looking all the time at the entrance, when you were already thinking that Ivar must have forgotten you, he came out and grinned cheekily. You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms in front of your chest, you really wanted to be angry. But when you looked him in the face it didn't work, so you looked away when he reached you.
"Don't be angry sweetie, mother wanted something, I couldn't refuse her request and besides I had to get something" he said and looked around. "Oh, what did you have to get?" you asked angrily. But he smiled at you again, he didn't take you seriously, that made you even angrier, but instead of reacting angrily you smiled too. You could beat yourself up for that. "I'll tell you later, let's go on the … hunt" he spoke and laughed up, now you had to laugh too, honey hunting, just sounded too good.
"I'm warning you" he spoke as you walked together down the road from Kattegat "This is going to be hard" - "What's going to be hard about it Ivar?" he smiled at you before looking back down at the ground watching his every step "If the bees see us they will take the honey, and fly away" you looked at him amazed "They do?"
He looked at you incredulously and grinned broadly "Yes, there are so many, they will all grab the combs and fly away with their precious honey" - "You're not serious" you said, dumbfounded. Again he laughed, "You're pulling my leg, Ivar" you said sourly and saw him nodding. "Of course, the worst that can happen is that they take off your beautiful dress and fly away with it" you looked at your dress and smoothed it.
Actually, you didn't want to encounter any bees. You swallowed slightly and looked at him, you could clearly see his smirk, even if he tried to hide it. "Honestly, Ivar, what can happen if we look for honey? He shrugged his shoulders "The bees could sting us and kill us ... then they eat us" you stopped, and he did the same, laughing again "It was a joke" he said when he saw your startled face. "But they can still sting" - "And that hurts?" you ask cautiously. "A little" again you swallow, no you didn't want to meet any.
It was beautiful in the forest, wild flowers were everywhere, here and there you caught some bees, Ivar always told you to follow them, they would take you to their honey, but they were so fast that you didn't even see them fly away. But you got a nice wild bouquet in your hand after a few minutes. "If you are thinking of putting them in my room too, forget it" he spoke as you came back towards him from the meadow.
"Well then I'll give it to Ubba, at least he'll be happy" you took a flower from the bouquet and wanted to put it in his hair, but he pulled his head away "What do you intend to do?" You looked at the flower, then back at Ivar, who looked at you bitterly, "She won't kill you" you said and put the flower in your hair. He smiled as he looked at the flower in your hair, and then he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you to him.
The sudden closeness to him made your body tremble, but when he tried to press his lips on yours, you backed away. But inwardly, you are annoyed that you reacted that way. He looked rather unhappy, "If you don't like me, tell me" he spoke and continued on his way. For a brief moment you closed your eyes and took a deep breath, so you could suppress your anger at yourself, then you went after him "That's not it" you said softly.
"No matter what I try, no matter how close I am to you, you always avoid it. I don't think you like me, and I'm beginning to wonder why you spend time with me" you looked up apologetically as he turned to you "Oh, I see now, you feel sorry for me. You feel sorry for a cripple" he spoke and his anger shone from his eyes. "No, that's not true Ivar, you are my friend" - "a friend…. Maybe Ubba should have come along better" he spoke and turned around.
"Ivar" you ran in front of him so that he had to stop. You wanted to say something, but you didn't know exactly what. "If you like me, then it's your part to show me now. That was the last try I will do" he spoke and walked past you, "Let's find honey" he spoke bitterly. You pressed your lips together and thought feverishly about what to say. You liked him, more than that, but you were a virgin and your first time scared you more than it should, after all it was the most normal thing in the world.
Slowly, you plodded along after him, your good mood blown away. If you lost Ivar because of your stupid reaction, it would hurt you a lot. "There are a lot of bees here…" he spoke, looking at the meadow as he walked, several bees buzzing back and forth, or settling on the flowers.
You stand next to him and take his hand. "I like you, Ivar. And I'm not around you out of pity, you don't need that" you spoke slowly and unsure. He turned his body to you as you kept talking, "It's just that… I'm…. Well I…" Hoof noises interrupted you and you both looked to the two riders coming towards you. Hvisterk, stopped, behind him on the horse, lay a deer. "Prey" he spoke, slapping the deer's hide. "Sigurd has some rabbits, we want to bring the loot home and then off we go again." Sigurd trotted past you both and made a gesture of greeting with his hand.
"And what are you going to do?" asked Hvitserk, who looked after Sigurd before his gaze fell on the two of you. "Hunting honey" said Ivar letting go of your hand, Hvitserk laughed, "Since when do people… hunt … honey?" - "Since today" Ivar spoke and smiled at you. "Okay, I won't ask …. But try up at our little huts" He pointed behind him and clicked his tongue as he set off to follow Sigurd.
Ivar grabbed your hand again as you looked after his brothers, "What were you going to say, sweetie" you turned to him and blushed, your heart began to pound. Again your body trembled as he came closer and closer to you. "Nothing," you say quickly, walking down the path Hvitserk had shown you. You hear an annoyed intake of breath from Ivar as he followed you. "Is this some honey hut?" you asked, wanting to break the uncomfortable silence.
"No, my brothers and I are there sometimes when we want to learn to take care of ourselves on our own. Or when we just want our peace" said Ivar, his voice emotionless. "But, last year bees built a nest in the cracks, of the wood, so not such a stupid idea, from him" You had thought to arrive there soon, but your way was much longer than you thought. Only in the afternoon you had almost reached the hut, unpleasant conversations and silence prevailed between the two of you.
You could see the hut from far away as you slowly walked up the mountain. Ivar spoke less and less, "My legs hurt" he said from time to time. "We are almost there, and you can sit down", you said when you suddenly stopped. In front of you stood a beautiful fox looking at you. Ivar, who had been looking at the ground, ran into you. He grabbed your arm so that he wouldn't fall over and looked around questioningly.
"Look, Ivar," you said and pointed your finger at the chance encounter. Ivar smiled as the fox sat down and licked his leg. You turned to him and smiled broadly at him. He looked deep into your eyes as his gaze fell on the fox again, "Look" he spoke and nodded to him. A butterfly had joined him, and the fox began to chase it. Ivar and you started laughing, he let go of you and continued down the path as the fox chased the butterfly through the forest.
You looked at him anxiously, he looked tired and exhausted. "Do you think we'll find honey there?" you asked and looked again at the little hut. "I don't know, we'll find out in a few minutes" - "I'm glad you're with me" you said and looked at him. He smiled and looked up "Oh, say that again" he spoke, "I'm glad you're with me" you said, and you gathered every courage in you and approached him, a little unsure and puzzled he looked at you, but he didn't back away.
Goosebumps appeared on your skin as you looked into his blue eyes. But just before you were about to kiss him, you lowered your eyes. He reached under your chin and lifted it, slowly approaching you. You remained as still as a rabbit in a trap as his lips laid on yours. You had no idea how it worked, but when you felt him open his mouth, you did the same and your kiss deepened.
But this uneasy feeling, the flight you feel, dragged you away from him. But he stood in front of you and smiled at you, his eyes glistening in the afternoon sun. "Why are you so red?" he teased, grabbing the back of your head, again his lips landed on yours for a brief but loving kiss. "Come" he spoke and walked towards the hut. He sat down on the bench in front of the hut and watched you examine everything. The small wooden house stood close to the cliff, various herbs hanging to dry under the small roof.
Slowly you continued on your way, and soon you were looking down the cliff, amazed you looked at Ivar who was massaging his legs with one hand. "Wow, what a view, the sea crashing against the rocks and the little island back there with the big trees" Ivar nodded "You better find the honey, I don't feel like staying here all night" he said showing his best smile. "You want me to look for it?" you asked, confused.
"Of course, I can't stand or take a step anymore" he said, and his smile disappeared. "But… the bees" he looked from his legs back to you, "So? Just say hello to them" you raised an eyebrow, "And then what happens?" Ivar laughed out "Then you ask if you can have honey" he looked to the hut and searched the small wall. "Maybe on the other side, try it" he spoke, twisting his finger as if pointing around a corner. You nodded, inwardly full of panic but not wanting to let on.
"Okay, stay here, I'll be right back" you said as you walked past him and put your wild bouquet of flowers into his hand, "Where am I supposed to run to? Do you really think I'm going to walk home while you stand on the other side of the hut?" Reaching the corner of the hut, you looked to him. "I never know with you," you said teasingly and rounded the corner.
It was in the shade and the cool air made you freeze in your tight dress. Honey, where are you - you thought as you searched the wall, but there was nothing here. You decided to look on the other side. There were bushes everywhere, trees lined up, and various flowers covered the ground. You hear the buzzing of several bees before you even reach the corner, your gaze tracking isolated bees. You circle them at a wide and safe distance. "Hello bees," you call out, waving at them.
"May I have the honey?" you asked them. Ivar dived to the side of the hut, leaned up against the wall and laughed, "You're serious?" - "You told me to do this" you said angrily. "They are bees…. Not people" - "Okay, know-it-all, what should we do then?" he looked at the swarm of bees and shrugged. "I'd rather do nothing," he said, waving for you to join him. You were a little disappointed and angry when you reached Ivar.
"Don't be sad sweetie, harvesting wild honey is not easy and impossible without equipment, let the professionals do it" he handed the flowers back to you. "But I'm sure they would love your flowers" he pointed to the swarm and walked back to the front of the hut. You looked at your flowers and then at the bees, slowly you walked towards them, that meant a couple of steps, then you put the flowers on the ground and quickly walked backwards and ran to the front and looked around.
Ivar was sitting by the cliff, leaning against a rock and looking out over the sea. When you reached him he grinned cheekily, "I think I've found your honey" With your mouth open you looked at the sea and nodded. The setting sun, colored the sea a honey hue, slowly you sat down beside him "Well, no honey, but this sight is still worth it" you said, taking his hand that was resting in his lap. "So you're not mad at me?" he asked, looking at you, you shook your head.
"It was a beautiful day and I got to spend it with you" now he smiled sheepishly. "I'm done for the day, we have to stay here, but we have plenty of supplies" he spoke before his eyes fell back to the sea. "No problem" you said, happy to be alone with him.
Before it got too dark, you went into the hut. Now you sat together in front of the small fireplace and talked. You laughed a lot, and he told you stories that he had experienced up here with his brother. You looked at him dreamily as he was about to tell another one:
"Hvitserk was so drunk and wanted to take a piss. He stumbled out, and we sat here for quite a while until Ubba looked at me. What is? I asked as he jumped up and ran outside. After a few minutes, he came back with Hvitserk in his arms. He really did fly over the bench outside and just lay there. Ubba then put him on the bed and Hvitserk slept through until morning. I asked Ubba how he felt it, and he just said that he felt it somehow. Really strange" he finished the sentence and looked at you with a smile.
"Brothers feel that" Ivar shrugged "Well, I haven't noticed anything and Sigurd hasn't noticed anything for a long time" you both laughed, but Ivar quickly became serious again "I'm sorry we have to spend the night here" he spoke quietly. You moved closer to him. It didn't bother you at all, in fact you hadn't felt this comfortable for a long time. And you were surprised at yourself as you wiped a strand from his face. There was a long, tense silence between you at your sudden touch.
Then you got up and sat on him with your legs apart, he raised his hands and looked at you, startled. "So… I… You know I…" you put a finger to his lips, "Hush, I just want to be close to you, Ivar." You grabbed his raised hands and placed them on your hips. He looked petrified as he looked at your hip "Ivar, I am a virgin" he looked up, stunned.
"I was avoiding you because I thought I was doing something wrong" you spoke the truth, and he smiled lovingly at you. "And I thought I was the one doing something wrong" you shook your head and put your hands on his chest. He took a deep breath, the fire reflected in his eyes. "You know I like you, I've always liked you" - "I know" you spoke as you moved closer to him and pressed your lips to his, slightly opening your mouth to deepen the kiss, the goosebumps were back with a vengeance, and you notice the desire for him growing.
Tentatively, he tried to feel your tongue with his, and soon they were dancing together. His hands ran up and down your back and lightly pinched your hips when he reached them again.
You moved your hips back and forth, which made him groan from time to time. "I…" you didn't let him say it. You had to bring down the wall inside him, only then would he see that he was capable of it. "I just want to be close to you, Ivar, don't stress you" you whisper in his ear as you hugged him. Your hands loosened his braid, and you ran your fingers into it, his hair was soft, and it smelled good.
A little surprised you notice Ivar's hands finding their way under your dress and up your legs as he suddenly pulled them back "Ohhh, wait…wait" he said pushing your torso slightly away from him "I'm an idiot, I got you something" he said, and you watched stunned as he rummaged in his trouser pocket. "Here" he said and showed you a small Glass, "Honey?" you asked incredulously and took it in your hand. "Oh, you had to get that, and you made me wait so long?" you said, and he nodded.
You looked at the yellow honey with a spice in it, then you started to laugh. Ivar looked at you sheepishly, "I didn't want the day to end without honey" he scratched his head and looked at you. You grinned at him and opened the small jar and smelled it, "Smells excellent" you said, and tapped with your index finger, in the honey. In front of him, you lick the honey off your finger. "Hmm, fantastic" you said as you held the pot out to him.
He swallowed and looked at you with wide eyes, you shrugged your shoulders and put your finger back into the little pot, As you tried to sit comfortably on his lap, you noticed how stiff his member was. Briefly you faltered, but then you slowly licked the honey from your finger, he on the other hand licked his lips. You started to move your hips, which made him groan, "I thought you couldn't" you tease him. You wet your finger with honey again and close the jar.
You put it next to you before stroking Ivar's lips with honey, not stopping to move your hips. His hands wandered under your dress again, leaving goosebumps on every place he touched. "Have a taste" you said softly as he opened his mouth and placed his lips around your finger, slowly you pull your finger out of his mouth and kiss his honey lips.
Your hands slowly moved to his trousers, and you opened them. As you grasped his member he moaned "I… didn't know…" he tried to say something between your kisses, but he quickly gave up. He grabbed your ass and yanked you around, amazed, you lay with your back on the furs. Ivar smiled at you "I want it to be perfect" he said slowly and ran his hand slowly over your breasts, belly and hips, he disappeared from your view.
But soon you notice his hands moving up your legs, pulling your dress up as he did so. He kissed and licked your inner thighs, and then he even a bite into them, and this made you let out a small moan. When he reached your womanhood, he caressed it with all the means he had. You moaned as you felt his tongue on your clit, and you bite your lower lip. "Please," you moaned as he slowly pushed a finger into you, but it didn't hurt, it was even pleasant, and soon you lost your fear and gave yourself to him.
After a while, he put a second one inside you and moved them in a rhythm. He knew what he was doing, you thought briefly, as a wave of sensation hit you. You grab his hair as you groaned loudly. Your body shook, intensifying the goosebumps you had had on your skin all along.
He lay on top of you and smiled at you, you kissed him and reached for his shirt, you wanted to feel him, his skin, his body. He reached under himself and pulled at your dress, you lifted your body to help him take it off. For a moment you felt small when he looked at you like that, but when he started kissing and touching your breasts, you felt comfortable under his strong hand.
He kissed your lips and with one hand he pulled his trousers further down. "Is this what you really want?" he breathed to you as he kissed down your neck. "Yes," you spoke easily. You notice his member rubbing back and forth in front of your womanhood, and it was driving you crazy. You just wanted to feel him inside you.
You reached down, but he stopped you and grabbed your hand "I am careful" he said and as he moved forward you put your hands on his back. Slowly he pushed into you, but soon you notice the pain, with a jerk he pushed into you and lay motionless. You cried out briefly, he caressed your neck and let his hand wander over your breasts. Only after a while, when he was sure that you had calmed down, did he begin to move.
It burned a little, but soon his movements gave you pleasure, and you let your nails run over his back, he moaned and kissed you, your tongues dancing together as he thrust into you again and again, getting faster and faster. You put your head back in your neck as you were about to reach your second climax. He pushed himself off the ground to have more movement. He was so deep inside you and filling you completely, you moan and grab his hips.
His thrusts were hard and well-aimed, and soon you were lifting your head and moaning in pleasure as you reached your second climax. You're trembling and writhing body beneath him made him come too. Exhausted, he lay down on his back beside you. "I… I'm in favor of staying here a little longer…" you spoke out of breath and you both started laughing. "We still have honey," he said, laughing. You lay your head on his chest and close your eyes. This day was more than perfect.
#vikings one shot#vikings fandom#ivar x reader#vikings ragnassons#fanfiction#ivar the boneless x reader#fanfiction writer#fanfic#vikings ubbe#ivar the boneless x you#vikings ivar#vikings hvitserk#vikings x reader#vikings fanfic#ivar the boneless is a god#hvitserk ragnarsson#ubbe ragnarsson#x reader#thanks for reading
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I can't remember if I made a Tag List for my upcoming Christmas one-shot (Title still sorta in the works) I'm just going to redo it! Apologies if I have. I don't have i saved in Dafts here or my Tag List blog.
So, if you would like to be tagged in my future Christmas fic, Comment or Reblog this with a Christmas-y Emoji! ❄️🎄🎅
Synopsis: You and Henry are decorating for Christmas, when your little Golden Egg decides to come early.
#henry cavill#henrycavill#viking-raider fics#Christmas Story#Christmas One-Shot#Viking-Raider Holiday Fics#Tag List#Viking-Raider Tag List#Title in the works#Henry Cavill x Reader#Henry Cavill x Pregnant Reader
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Alex Høgh Andersen│Fluff alphabet
PAIRING: Alex Høgh Andersen x reader
WARNINGS: bad grammar
CONTAINS: fluff
SONG: Drag Me Down - One Direction
gif isn’t mine
A = Attractive. What they find attractive on their s/o?
He loves your smile. And he loves even more when he is the reason why you smile. But on your body he finds most attractive your hands and face. He likes to look right into your eyes because he finds them so beautiful. He loves to hold your hand a rub it with his thumb. He loves kissing your hand to make you feel like a princess. Or just secretly hold your hand under the table.
B = Beauty. What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?
He admires your eyes. They are incredible. They show him how much you love him with how much warm and softness you look at him. It makes him all ‘fuzzy and fluffy’ inside. And he loves the feeling of it.
C = Cuddle. How they cuddle with they s/o?
He is mostly the big spoon. He likes to hold you in his arms. He likes how you feel in his arms. You keep him warm and you make him very soft. He feels like he needs to protect you.
D = Dates. What are dates with them like?
Very funny and creative dates. He wants to explore the world and he wants to do it with you. Sou you are going everywhere. Mountain climbing, riding a bike, swimming in a river, exploring forests,.. In lazy days you two are going to your favourite coffee/tea shop and just talking all day. On a way home you go to some small bakery to buy sweet pastries.
E = Everything. You are my ____ (e.g. my life, my world…)
‘You are my anchor’ You are the one who keeps him at the line. You keep him grounded.
F = Feelings. When did they know they were falling in love?
He knows it after few months. He realized he cares for you more than about anyone else. He wants to know what are you doing in your free time. He miss you everytime he’s not around you. You are the person he’ll never stop looking for in a crowded place. He also started touching you a little bit. Holding pinkies, random hugs, picking you up from behind to make you laugh, tickling you. He realized he wants to be more than a friend to you.
G = Gentle. Are they gentle with their s/o?
Very. He is sometimes gentle as if you were made of glass. He doesn’t want to hurt you in any way.
H = Honesty. Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?
He shares mostly everything. He will talk about everything that bothers him with you. But he has some secrets/memories that he doesn’t share with you yet. After some time of you dating and he get the feeling of safeness he shares every little thing.
I = Impression. First impression/s?
They told him that there is gonna be new character in Vikings and the new character is gonna have some kind of closer relationship with Ivar. He was excited. And when he saw you his jaw dropped and around him was flying little hearts. He was amazed with your beauty but he had to know you at first. You get to know each other very well he just can’t get enough of you.
J = Jealousy. Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?
He trust you a lot but there is still little tingle back in his head. He doesn’t get jealous easily but he has his limits. And when someone crosses his limits he isn’t afraid to show that you are his.
K = Kiss. How do they kiss their s/o?
He cups your face to his hands, he stroked your cheeks with his thumb, smile at you and then passionate kiss you. When you have a bad day he kisses you on your forehead to make you feel better. Soft kisses on the neck to make you giggle.
L = Love Confession. How would they confess to their s/o?
He will find creative and unique way to confess his love to you. He would write you a letter. Or he will buy you baguette of your favourite flowers come to you and ask you to be his girlfriend. You can see that he is nervous but he still give you cute bright smile that you can't resist.
M = Marriage. Do they want to get married? How do they propose?
Yes, I think he want to marry you. He will wait two or three years to make sure you want to be his even more. He wants to grow old with you. He just want to spend his life with you. You make him so happy so why he shouldn’t put on your finger that (special) ring.
N = Nicknames. What do they call their s/o?
‘Baby, babe, sweetheart, darling or love.’ He is very sweet even with his nicknames for you.
O = On Cloud Nine. What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others?
He is like a puppy. Yes it is very obvious to others that he is in love. He’s like a sunshine so warm, sweet and kind. When he sees you his eyes turns into a hearts and he put on the big stupid smile.
P = PDA. Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others?
He likes to show people how lucky he is. So he shows ‘average’ pda. He’s holding your hand, give you pecks on your cheeks, quick kisses on the lips, hugging you, holding you around your waist. But the all his love he holds for you he shows you in private.
Q = Quirk. Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.
He is the best at making you happy. He can make you smile and laugh like no one else. He quickly notice when something is wrong with you and he does everything to make you smile again.
R = Romance. How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?
Creative and romantic as hell. He would do anything to make you happy! Common hot baths are his favourite thing to do with you.
S = Support. Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?
YES! He gives me the ‘that’s my girl’ vibes. He’s very supportive and he believes in you more than himself. You do the same for him. You believe than he can do anything he wants, that he’s strong enough. Together you are unstoppable.
T = Talking. What do they like to talk about?
His favourite topics are common future, music, animals and movies. He also talking about you to his friends and family. They’re happy for him but sometimes it’s starting to get little annoying.
U = Understanding. How good do they know their partner?
He knows you pretty well and he’s always happy when he learns something new about you. But he’s still ‘learning’. So he doesn’t know everything. Maybe it's because you don't tell people much about yourself and keep your past, present and future to yourself. But it’s different with him and he’s glad that he’s the one you trust this much
V = Value. How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?
You’re the most important to him. Nothing or no one can replace you. You’re his number one priority.
W = Wild Card. A random Fluff Headcanon.
He’s ticklish so when you want to tease him you start a ticklish war. You usually wins because he’s laughing that much he can’t tickle you back. He turn into a car when you start playing with his hair. Scratching, rubbing, stroking doesn’t matter. He growls in beatitude and hugs you by the waist.
X = Xylophone. What’s song describe your relationship?
Electric Love - Børns
Y = Yearning. How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?
He will do something productive. Something to keep his mind still thinking. He will think about things you can do together when you come back. Or he will think about surprise he would do for you. But without you the world lost his colours a little.
Z = Zebra. If they wanted a pet, what would they get?
Probably a dog. Maybe labrador or golden retriever. Hyperactive dog just like he is. So instead of one sunshine you gonna have two.
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