#ubbe x margrethe

[underragingwaves]

#vikings #vikingsedit #vikings history #ubbe ragnarsson #ubbe #margrethe #ubbe x margrethe #urwcreates #actual chemistry!! 🤩 #we should've had them together for longer #also ty Maggie for the gif suggestion

[we-are-only-halfway-home93]

Come and Lay the Roses 36- Angel of Mercy- [Ivar x OC]

Summary: Aaline and Ivar are finally reunited.

Characters: Ivar x OC, Bjorn x Torvi, Ubbe x Margrethe, Hvitserk x Thora, Sigurd x OC, Ragnar, Lagertha

Warnings: arranged marriage, violence, sex, torture, language, mentions of rape/sexual assault

Ch. 35

AN: Wow. It's been a long time. I've been thinking about this chapter for a long time and haven't been able to pin down why I waited so long to update. Part of me blames writer's block, part of me blames my schedule and timing, but the biggest thing I think that kept me from updating was that this would mean the end of this journey.

I came up with the idea for this story in May 2019 and after four years, it's finally finished. I don't think I was ready to end this journey and part with Aaline and the Lothbrok clan. I've been telling myself for weeks that I need to finish it and I've finally decided that I'm ready to end this journey.

I thank all of you who have stuck with me on this adventure.

“Angel of mercy, how did you find me? How did you pick me up again? Angel of mercy, how did you move me? Why am I on my feet again?”

~ “Mercy” by OneRepublic

She was warm. A marked difference from the last few weeks of her existence. She inhaled deeply and slowly, allowing the world to come back into focus. She blinked and surveyed the room she was in. 

It was her room. Her and Ivar’s. The curtains were closed except for a six inch gap that allowed sunlight to stream in and light up the dim room. There was just enough to maneuver the room but not wake her.

She shifted and winced at the sharp pain that lanced through her back. It would’ve been gracious to call the bed she’d slept on for the last few weeks a cot. It was barely more than a metal frame with a threadbare mattress. The metal bars had dug painfully into her bones for the few days she tried to sleep on it. Eventually she took to sleeping on the floor. It was more comfortable by far but still gave her stiff muscles. Sleeping on a real mattress had done little to ease the ache. 

She shifted slowly up to her elbows and glanced around. Clothes were littered on the floor. A serving tray of dirty dishes sat on the dresser across the room and a half full glass of water on the nightstand. She looked at the alarm clock and noted that it was the middle of the afternoon. 

She didn’t know how long she’d slept or how many days had passed since her rescue. She felt grimy and dirty and knew she hadn’t been bathed since then. She decided not to wait around for someone to help her and hoisted herself out of the bed. 

With stiff legs, she made her way to the bathroom and blinked rapidly against the bright white light that penetrated her eyes. She smiled at the bouquet of black roses that were situated in the middle of the counter. Ivar had even left a short note expressing his love. He didn’t date stamp it so she didn’t know when he’d written it but she settled it back on the counter anyway, contentment thriving through her veins. 

She switched the shower head on high and undressed. Someone, probably Ivar, had dressed her simply. She pulled the black comfort t-shirt over her head and slipped her panties down her legs. The dirt and grime from the concrete room she’d been held in still decorated her body in streaks of gray and black and brown. She looked at her face in the mirror and narrowed her eyes at the vibrant purple bruise along her jaw and the dried blood that had caked itself in her nostrils and along her upper lip. 

She tried to comb the rat's nest that was her hair so she didn’t tangle it further in the shower but there was little hope for the strands. She pushed it back from her face and stepped into the shower when the steam fogged up the mirror beyond sight. 

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly through her mouth. The hot air filled her lungs and she felt herself relax. Her muscles began to unclench and she could feel her body disengaging from fight or flight mode. 

Once the trembling in her hands had stopped, she picked up Ivar’s shampoo and dropped a generous dollop in her hand. She massaged the minty soap through her hair and shivered as her scalp began to tingle. 

She combed her fingers through the knots as best she could, wincing at the extra sharp tugs that befell her scalp when she came to a particularly vicious snarl. She rinsed the lather and began again, working to clean all the grease and grime from her hair that she could manage.

She used her own rose scented body wash to scrub the dirt and grime from her body, scrubbing twice like she did for her hair, before turning to the leave in conditioner. She worked the lather into her hair before tilting her head back and closing her eyes, letting the hot water pelt her chest and stomach. 

She startled at the sound of the bathroom slamming open. She barely had time to shut the water off before the shower door slid open and she was pulled into Ivar’s arms. He didn’t seem to mind that she was soaking wet and dampening his clothes. He pulled her out of the steam and lifted her, settling her on the counter top. She shivered against the temperature difference and he left her arms only long enough to wrap a towel around her shoulders. 

He returned to her embrace and she wrapped her arms and legs around him fully, holding him in the embrace of her body. She felt him sign against her neck and knew it was a weight leaving his shoulders. He pulled back and pushed her hair behind her ears with the flat of his palm. She nuzzled into the contact. 

“Are you alright, my love?” He asked, his fingers combing through the wet strands of her hair. She nodded against his palm and tangled her fingers in the longer strands of hair at the nape of his neck. 

“How many people did you kill searching for me?” She asked. He smirked and stepped out of her embrace. He took a second towel from the rack on the wall and began meticulously drying her off. He started from the top, softly stroking the towel over her hair, squeezing the ends. He trailed it across her shoulders and down her arms, stroking over the crease of her elbow and over the backs of her hands. He even toweled off the spaces between her fingers.

“Innumerable. There is no number that will equal how precious your life is to me.” He answered. He brought the towel to her legs and traced her thighs and hips. She sucked in a soft breath when he gently toweled off the space between her legs, stroking the curls and dragging between the crease of her thigh. He smirked before stepping back and lifting first one leg and then the other, settling the balls of each foot on his chest and he dried her calves and feet. 

When he was satisfied, he pulled open the mirror and reached for her lotion and moisturizer. She closed her eyes and he traced his fingers gently over the planes of her face, taking care with her bruises. He rubbed in her moisturizer before opening her lotion and smoothing his hands over her chest. She shuddered when he worked the lather into her breasts, the spaces of his fingers catching on her nipples in a way that she wasn’t a hundred percent certain was accidental. 

She opened her eyes when he withdrew and almost shouted when he lifted her from the counter and returned to the bedroom. She let him settle her on the bed as he pulled a new shirt, his, and new underwear, hers, from the dresser.

He took her breath away when he dropped to a knee before her and, not once breaking eye contact, slid her panties up her legs. She shifted so he could settle them over her hips. He hovered over her, his mouth a hair's breadth away from hers but denied her a kiss. “If you’re trying to seduce me, it’s working.” She whispered. He grinned before picking up the new t-shirt and sliding it over her head without ceremony. She laughed as she pulled her head through the neck and slid her arms through the sleeves.

Ivar grew serious as soon as she reappeared and she twisted around on the bed to face him. She let him examine her face, which she knew was a mess of cuts and bruises. “I’m fine, Ivar.” She said.

He met her eyes and gave her a sad smile. She leaned forward into his space. “You know, this whole time I’ve been awake, you haven’t kissed me.” Ivar tilted his head to the side, his smile growing playful. “Kiss me, husband.” She said, and Ivar was unable to do anything but obey. 

He leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers, his tongue seeking entrance almost immediately. She moaned and pressed forward, deepening their kiss. Ivar groaned and pulled back, licking his lip. She grinned at him, blood on her teeth. Ivar growled and leaned forward, his hand settling at her throat and squeezing.

She groaned as Ivar tilted her head to the side and trailed kisses down the side of her throat. They left fire in their wake and Aaline sighed, settling her hands on Ivar’s forearms as he maneuvered her head whichever way he wanted.

She trailed her hands up his arms to his shoulders, tightening her fingers in the fabric of his t-shirt. “There’s something that I have to tell you.” Ivar hummed as he licked a line up the left side of her throat. She moaned when he nipped at the hinge of her jaw. 

“I’ve been meaning to say it for awhile butー” She’s cut off as a whimper works its way past her lips when Ivar sucked a mark into her throat at the curve of her neck and shoulder. Ivar hummed and switched sides, trailing nipping kisses up the other side of her neck. She knew she’d have marks to show for his affections. 

“What did you want to say?” He whispered in her ear, sending shivers down her spine. He traced the curve of it with his tongue before biting the lobe. She gasped and clutched tighter as his shoulders. 

“I didn’t tell you before. I was afraid.” Ivar pulled back and met her eyes, his hands moving to cup her face. His thumbs stroked over her cheekbones. She blinked at him, her hands releasing his shirt and smoothing out the fabric.

“I love you.” She whispered, her voice trembling. Ivar hummed and stroked his thumb across her cheek. He leaned for and settled his forehead against hers.

“As I love you.” He responded. Aaline released a watery laugh before surging forward and kissing him. Ivar laughed and opened his mouth to her, letting her devour him. She sat up on her knees and pressed bodily against him. Ivar groaned and stroked his hands down her back, reveling in the feeling of his wife safe in his arms again. 

Aaline giggled as Ivar’s hands smoothed up her back, taking her t-shirt with him on his way. She settled in his lap, relief flowing through her veins as her husband proceeded to make love to her.

@dreamlesswonder86 @youbloodymadgenius @inforapound @bcarolinablr @funmadnessandbadassvikings @jay-bel @feyrearcheron-nightcourt @londongal2810 @khiraeth @didiintheblog @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @xbellaxcarolinax @shannygoatgruff @kingniazx @revolution-starter @0hsappho @love-all-things-writing

#ivar the boneless #ivar lothbrok #ivar x oc #lagertha #mafia au #bjorn lothbrok #bjorn x torvi #ubbe x margrethe #hvitserk x thora #hvitserk lothbrok #sigurd x oc #sigurd snake in the eye #sigurd lothbrok #ragnarn lothbrok #ragnar #arranged marriage #modern au #vikings #crime au #come and lay the roses

[dragonsoftheeast]

do you even wanna go free? (I’ll show you what that big word means)

read on Ao3

A compare and contrast of two weddings, between a son of Ragnar with a former slave girl.

Written for @vikingsevents Summer Solstice challenge Day 6: Wedding

Thorunn’s wedding was hardly the happiest day of her life. Consumed by self loathing, she’d been halfway ready to bolt the whole time. As much as Bjorn had beamed at her, she could not get past Ragnar’s uninterested stare, or Lagertha’s strained smile.

“You won’t want to marry me now, will you?” She’d asked, there in her sickbed. She wouldn’t have blamed him. But Bjorn had seemed determined to prove her wrong.

Her poor, stubborn husband.

They’d married as soon as Thorunn was physically able. Her scar was so, so red, and hidden by a veil, her belly rounded beneath her dress.

Aslaug had been the one to provide her a sword and kransen, as her former mistress. They were shiny and new, unlike Bjorn’s rusted ancestral sword, presented only to be exchanged during the ceremony. 

It was humiliating, to be there in front of her hero, wearing the bridal crown of flowers in her hair as if that could make up for the beauty she’d lost. It’d hurt even to smile, or to cry, so she’d kept her face neutral.

She’d seen their pitying looks. No one wanted to say it, not out loud, not in front of Bjorn. Now he’s stuck with her, she’d seen on their faces. 

At least here, Ubbe and Margrethe seem happy. Everyone at Ubbe’s wedding seems jealous of him.

The fact Margrethe was a slave not a few weeks ago does not seem to phase most of the men in the crowd, though perhaps the fact that the eldest son Ragnar had done the same can save her from much of the disdain that Thorunn faced in the first years of her marriage. She hopes that is true, but she can do some other things to assist her.

As Aslaug had once done for her, Thorunn had provided Margrethe with a new kransen and sword. Her own kransen was reserved for any more future daughters- the one encircling Siggy’s brow had been worn by Lagertha, and her daughter Gyda, for a brief time.

“All of us slave girls dreamed of being like you,” Margrethe had said, admiring the blade. “Freed to marry a son of Ragnar. I can’t believe it’s happening to me.”

Thorunn suspects that this is not so much happening to her as Margrethe making it happen. From Ivar’s complaints, she’d set a wide net among the sons of Ragnar. Not that she blamed her. A path to freedom is a path to freedom, and Ubbe will make a good husband. 

“And,” Thorunn corrects her.

“What?”

“I was freed, and I married a son of Ragnar. Not in order to.” Thorunn placed her own hands over Margrethe’s grip on the sword. “Let me tell you this. I always demand respect from my husband. Do not let him forget that he married a free woman. You are not a slave anymore. You never will be again.”

Margrethe nodded fervently, and let Thorunn place the kransen on her brow, and together, they washed away her maidenhood. 

“Congratulations,” She says to the new bride, as the men ready to race the course. They jostle and jockey for position, already drunk, all ready to be even more drunk. 

“Thank you, Thorunn,” She says, clasping her hands. “For everything.”

“We are sisters now,” Thorunn said, smiling.

“Yes!” Siggy says, wrapping her arms around her new aunt. “I am glad to have you as part of our family.”

Ubbe shoves his brother aside, passing by the finish line, whooping in victory. Panting, he approaches the three of them.

“My apologies, Siggy,” He says, smiling. “I’m afraid I must-” 

And he sweeps his new wife in his arms, and Margrethe squeals with laughter-

“Steal my wife away from you. So I can take her to the feast!”

The men cheer, even the men covered in mud.

“Served, of course, by my faithful cupbearer, my brother Hvitserk.”

At this, Thorunn joins in the cheering, as they all leave the clearing. Siggy jumps on Sigurd’s back, and they woop together, laughing as he carries her to the hall.

“I don’t know what everyone is so excited about,” Ivar growls, crawling to be at Thorunn’s side. “She’s just a slave.”

She’d warned Ivar against approaching her. He is too prone to being jealous of his brothers to compete with them this way.

“If you keep chasing them, you will never catch up,” she’d told him. “If you forge your own path, you will reach places they will never imagine.”

She can only hope that he heeded her.

“So was I,” Thorunn replies, measuredly.

Ivar freezes, as if he cannot put that together. He is perhaps one of the only people who ever forgets this about her, and normally, she loves him for it. But she cannot let him forget it now.

“I only watched her,” he mumbles, and she turns, holding his face in her hands.

“And now she is your brother’s wife,” she says. “As I am. So surely, you will afford her the same respect as you do me.”

He searches her face, and nods.

“Bjorn,” she calls.

“Yes?” He calls. His horn is already full.

“Can you help take Ivar to the feast?”

“Of course, my heart,” he says, passing the horn to her. She drains it. With a swift and easy movement, her husband lifts Ivar onto his back, and they walk together to the Great Hall.

Aslaug proudly presides over wedding feast. Perhaps this was not her desire when she encouraged her sons to get married.

A marriage to a slave he freed himself, rushed so all his brothers could be here before they all departed, Bjorn and Hvitserk to Rome, Ivar to England. Far from the noble bride she’d imagined for him. But at least her eldest heeded her advice, if only halfway.

Aslaug will have another weaving student, it seems.

#bjorn ironside #ubbe ragnarsson #hvitserk ragnarsson #sigurd ragnarsson #ivar ragnarsson #ivar the boneless #vikings #vikingssummer #fic #siggy bjornsdottir #thorunn #margrethe #bjorn x thorunn #ubbe x margrethe #glory and gore

[bjornswoman]

Foe's regret I

Author's note: Hello there! Here comes this fic you chose to come. At this part I have to say that one more part has left to come from this series. Thank you for supporting me. I wasn't planning on delivering this today. I had it in store for Christmas as a gift to you all, but I couldn't keep myself from posting it, so here it is. I hope you will enjoy it as much as I did.

Pairing: Ubbe x Reader.

Genre: Mini!series, drama, angst, violence, slight romance.

Summary: Your life is about to change again, probably this time things will get better... or not.

Warnings: Violence (emotional and physical), mentions of murder (strangulation), strong language.

My enemy and me masterlist | Nemesis's wish | Enemy's cruelty | Rival's touch |

Days and nights had past but everything felt the safe inside your prison. Only this time you weren't only miserable and hopeless, but also betrayed and filthy after that disastrous of a night.

You wanted to run away from Kattegat – from Ubbe. But you knew that this wasn't even an option – not after what had happened the previous time. You wouldn't even dare to lay a foot outside the Hall without someone on your tail.

However, that wasn't the only reason behind this. Your son had a huge impact on your decision. Even if you ever found the opportunity to leave this place for good, Ragnar would hate you for taking him away from his father. A father who was Ubbe Ragnarsson – a magnificent warrior, descendant of Odin himself. The child was his first-born – his heir – you had no right to take him away from him.

On the other hand, you couldn't leave on your own. You couldn't stay away from your son – your heart wouldn't bear not to see him for a day let alone a whole life. The only meaningful thing you had in this life was your son – without him you were dead.

The thundering sound of a goblet falling startled you and forced you out of your thoughts into the atrocious reality. Around you men and women were laughing and drinking, fighting and eating, talking and dancing. It was another feast that you had to pretend to be the perfect wife. False smiles and identical words and promises were all you could see behind the masks of all those pretenders that were surrounding the Hall.

"You don't seem to enjoy yourself." Drunken, slightly hoarse voice spoke from the seat next to yours. It was a familiar one though it didn't belong to your husband – it belonged to his younger brother.

"I am afraid you are mistaken, Hvitserk." You answered and you glanced at the drunk man. Then your eyes went back at the crowd.

You weren't in mood of starting any conversation – even with Hvitserk. You wanted to stay on your seat drinking ale from your goblet until the night was off – and you prayed for it to end soon enough because you couldn't stand seeing her swinging around the Hall giggling with the guests full of your husband's child. And your husband's eyes were only on her, the love of his life – now you knew damn well that he was lying he hated you because he couldn't be with her and you were hating him more than before. More than ever.

"Well, I won't push you to talk if you don't want to, but you should know that if you ever need to spill your guts and let of steam, I'll be here." Those were the realest words you had ever heard coming from someone else – from someone who was too drunk to reconsider the words coming out of his mouth. And yet it didn't seem this way, it seemed like Hvitserk meant each one of them.

You turned your gaze on him properly this time. Maybe he was right you should speak to someone – you should take this weigh off your shoulders, but you knew that Hvitserk couldn't be the one. He was Ubbe's brother and in love with Margrethe. Torvi couldn't be that person either, she was his brother's wife – practically his family.

That resulted to you having no one for once more. You were utterly alone, but you were used to it by now.

"You know that we can't really talk, don't you?" You asked him in low tone of voice and he turned his gaze on you. Green eyes gazing right inside your shuttered soul.

Hvitserk shook his head and chuckled. You looked at him frowning in curiosity.

"Ahh, yes. I almost forgot for a moment that you are more like a bird imprisoned in a golden cage than my brother's wife." You almost smiled at the comparison he managed to make.

"I was never the second as for the first I start to think that the only thing missing is the wings." You tried to play along, but the melancholy didn't let you be as playful as Hvitserk was when he pointed out the similarity between you and a caged bird.

Hvitserk left the goblet on the table and sat properly on his seat, his eyes were only on your figure along with his attention. It was like he was totally sober for a moment.

"You mean he broke your wings the only time you dared to walk out of that cage?"

"Something like that." You smiled sadly, recalling which moment he was talking about.

"And yet you love him. Still."

You frowned. You opened your mouth to protest – to accuse him of lying, to give him one by one all the atrocious reasons that his remark couldn't be true. You almost wanted to rip the collar of your dress and show him the scars of his brother's large hands on your neck of all the time he almost strangled you. But most of all you wanted to yell at him because he dared to say such an awful and offensive thing.

"You don't need to persuade me of the opposite." He continued and grabbed his own goblet taking a long sip of his drink. "I don't know the reason behind all this horrible situation you have to live in – well, in fact, I know it – but I wish things were different between you and him. You are a good woman – you deserve a lot of things and surely this torment isn't one of them. He is a good man as well, but he is stubborn and I can say that he loves you back."

You didn't want to hear anymore. You didn't know which your reaction should be. Not because you were shocked or believed any of his words. You knew that Ubbe didn't love you – he hated you. He had even told you that he loved her that night.

Before Hvitserk could even start again talking about Ubbe's hypothetical love about you, you dumped your own goblet on the table in front of you and left your seat.

"Don't say anything else. Ubbe himself told me that he loves her." You said quickly and stormed in your chamber before Hvitserk could answer you.

You didn't need to hear anything else about Ubbe or Margrethe. In fact, you didn't even want to see them for the rest of the evening. You needed a night away from all this despair – you deserved it after everything you had been through lately.

However, your silence didn't last long because Ubbe stormed in the room more frustrated than you did a few minutes ago.

"What do you want?" You asked him angrily because of his sudden appearance in there.

"Are you out of your mind?" He yelled and kicked the table flipping it over, throwing all the decorations on the floor.

"No, you are out of your mind!" You were yelling too now. You couldn't believe at the audacity of that person. All he did was coming in and yelling at you over and over and over again. It was all a circle happening again and again the same thing and you were tired of re-living the same scene every day.

"I am not the one who caused a whole scene in front of so many people and left! What do you think you are doing?"

"Are you serious? I caused a scene? I was talking with Hvitserk! Just a civilised talking! Something you can't do apparently because all you do is yelling!" You yelled back. All you asked was for a simple night. A silent one which meant away from him and his madness. He was mad – there wasn't any other excuse behind all of his behaviour. However, you couldn't find a proper reason he was in such a state. You hadn't caused any scene in there.

"Don't bring this on me, woman!" He was very angry – you had seen him this way multiple times before and you knew what was to follow. His hands were running through his braids uncontrollably and you couldn't understand the reason he was so mad. "You are the one who humiliated me and my family!" His finger pointed out on you and you scoffed – you couldn't help it – and it enraged him more.

Within a couple of seconds one of his hands was on your throat pressing it until you had no breath in your lugs. Nothing new – just some bruises and marks that you had to hide under your clothing. Ubbe pushed you back on the wall – your back hit so hard that all the inches of your body were shaken.

"You humiliate my name and you have to get punished for it!" He growled and you looked at him as angrily as he eyed you. You weren't going to lose this time – not again. And most importantly you couldn't let him know that you were afraid. He couldn't know.

"What are you going to do that you haven't done yet? What, huh?" You challenged him, looking him in the eyes. You wouldn't back down.

A sardonic smirk formed on his face when he heard your words and his face came closer to yours. You weren't used to be this close to him. Your faces were mere inches apart and without your approval your eyes stared on his masculine features.

"I am going to take Ragnar away from you. You are going to see him again when you will act properly." His tone was normal again, but his nerves weren't. Your eyes widened and you tried to do something you hated yourself for the same moment you did it. You raised your hand and tried to hit him – to slap him on the cheek – but his hand stopped you.

After that, both of his hands were gripping you firmly and this time maybe he would make his dream coming true – he was going to strangle you to death and as he said once; nobody would suspect him.

Your eyes widened again, but this time not because of the fact that he was going to kill you this time, but because you were going to hit him. You had never done that before – never. You had thought about it plenty of times, but never did it.

You closed your eyes waiting for your death and tears rolled from your eyes – tears because you tried to hit him. He had done horrible things, but you – you weren't this beast. Images of your son were flashing before your eyes at you last moments.

But you didn't die at the end of day, because the door opened and Hvitserk along with Sigurd and Bjorn forced Ubbe away from you. They tried to help you when Ubbe was forced away from you, but you stopped them you fell on the floor coughing, trying to breathe normally again.

Bjorn and Sigurd were talking to him as Hvitserk was standing next to you trying to make sure whether you were fine or not.

"He wasn't.... going to kill me." You managed to say with clear difficulty in breathing. All pairs of eyes were following you while you were struggling to stand up.

"It didn't seem this way to me." Bjorn pointed out and you shook your head trying to convince him the thing around.

"I wouldn't kill her." Ubbe spoke finally, his burning blue eyes were only on you as your own eyes were on him. "Now leave us for a moment. We will be alright." He told them and they looked at disbelief before they walked to the door.

"We will be right outside, don't even think about it." Hvitserk warned his brother before all of them were out of the door and stayed just the two of you in the room.

Ubbe didn't try to come close to you, he stayed at his former position and neither of you talked. The atmosphere was suffocating inside the room.

"You were very lucky this time, but next time you will raise your hand on me you won't be that lucky." He warned you in much calmer tone of voice.

It was a threat – another threat.

You hated yourself for trying to hit him. He had never done it, but had done other equally awful things. You wanted to tell how sorry you felt and ask for forgiveness and you would if it was for another person. You would never leave your guard down for him again. You knew better than falling for his tricks again.

"We will see about that." You couldn't keep your mouth from saying it.

"Don't tempt me to finish what I started." Ubbe growled before he was out of the door.

"I'm sorry." You muttered when he was out of the chamber and touched your hurting neck. Tears started streaming from your eyes at the memory of you raising your hand on Ubbe.

After some hours, you un-braided your hair and put on your night-gown ready to lay on your bed, after your son was asleep. You blew out the candles and laid on your bed closing your eyes. But you didn't get to sleep, because the wooden door opened and closed. You kept your eyes shut, but your hand moved under your pillow and wrapped around your dagger's handle.

When you felt the mattress next to you moving, you turned around and pointed the dagger at the man's neck. You could recognise him under the midnight light coming from your window. You knew this person well – fortunately.

"I must confess that I wasn't expecting this." He whispered, but you didn't take the dagger away from his neck. For the first time ever, Ubbe Ragnarsson was under your mercy. That meant that you could do to him anything you liked. This was getting entertaining.

"Why are you here anyway? You should be with your wife." You reminded both of you and moved the dagger closer to the flesh of his throat.

"In case you forgot you are my wife."

"I meant your other wife."

Ubbe didn't seem to want to answer your question probably he – himself – didn't know the reason he was on your bed.

"You know that I could take this little knife of yours easily." He said and touched the tip of your blade. You smirked hoping that he couldn't see it in the dark.

"Yes, but you haven't taken it yet." You heard him chuckling and you smiled.

"No, I haven't." His voice was coming from somewhere closer than you remembered. The dagger was still pressed on his neck, but it seemed as he didn't care at all about its existence – he wasn't afraid of you and that was annoying you even more than his arrogancy.

"I could kill you and nobody could prove it was me." You recollected his own words and used them to upset it, but it had quite different effect than the one you wanted.

As an answer his hand was placed on top of yours – on top of the hand which was holding the dagger on his throat. He guided the blade closer to his flesh and you watched him thrilled as he was pressing his own skin with the sharp knife.

"Do it. Kill me. Nobody deserves to kill me more than you do. If I am to die soon, I'd prefer to be you the one holding the blade soaking in my blood. So, don't hesitate, do it – slice my neck." The smell of blood reached your nostrils and you knew that it came out of him. He had been cut by the blade, but it hadn't been deep enough to be fatal.

You pulled the knife away from Ubbe and dropped it on the stony floor. Your hands were working hard in the darkness trying to reach for his wound. You knew that he was bleeding when your hands me the something liquid streaming – his blood.

You hoped desperately that he couldn't see your face. He couldn't see how upset and worried you were for him. You didn't want him to suppose that you cared – you didn't care. You didn't care at all.

And yet you couldn't stop yourself from lighting the candles again and searching for a cloth to treat him. When you found what you were looking for, you went back to bed. You sat next to his lying form and placed the cloth in the bowl of water. Then, you placed the wet cloth on his wound and he didn't react – he didn't even flinch.

His blue eyes were focused on you trying to stop the blood streaming.

"I thought you would want to get rid of me by now." Ubbe finally spoke and you dared to glance at him for a passing moment. You thought to yourself. You thought that it would be better if he was dead. However, you couldn't picture his death. You were afraid that if you even tried, it would happen. It should have been what all you were waiting for, but it wasn't.

"I have told you, Ubbe, I've never wanted you dead." Your eyes were back on the cut on his throat. It wasn't a fatal wound and it wasn't big enough, but still you couldn't let him bleeding. Not even for some minutes. "Not even after everything that we've been through." You confessed in a soft tone of voice. In such way that you didn't want him to know about that last part. But, now, he knew.

"And yet I would kill you if I had the chance." This was a confess and it made you smile. It wasn't like you weren't afraid that he wasn't going to do it, you were sure that earlier he would have killed you if his brothers hadn't stormed in the room.

Ubbe could kill you easily, but this didn't mean that you could do this to him as well. He didn't care whether your son would grow up having a mother or not, as you did. But this didn't make you change your mind when it should have had. If you were to walk away one day, you would do this and he would be alive. Although, if that ever happened, he wouldn't let you go far enough – he would find you anywhere.

"You have the chance now." You reminded him that you were alone and your gaze met his under the slight light of the candles. You left the cloth in the bowl and placed it on the table close to your bed.

"I can't kill you right now." Ubbe said and stood up from your bed to meet you.

"Why not?"

You hated the way your eyes were magnetised on his imposing figure. It reminded you how much more powerless you were comparing to him. You wanted to force your eyes away, but you couldn't bring yourself to.

Ubbe shook his head trying to fight back a smirk which was forming on his face.

"It feels like you are provoking me into killing you sometimes. You are so annoying and careless and stubborn and I can't keep myself."

His footsteps became heavier when he almost reached you. You didn't make any attempt to get away from him – you stayed on your former position, staring at him.

"From killing me?"

A low chuckle – one so dark that got goosebumps – came out of his mouth and he took a step closer to you. Again, you didn't try to escape which seemed a terrible idea.

You knew that you were asking too many questions that could get you in danger. This man was so unpredictable that you weren't sure when he would snap out of nowhere and try to strangle you again – or this time he wouldn't use his hands.

"Among other things." These words came out darker than it probably meant.

It wasn't long before he was in front of you and his hands were reaching for your skin. They rested on your neck, but not like previously. He wasn't wrapping his hands firmly around you – he was touching you. Just touching. Nothing more – only pure touching. And yet, only pure it wasn't. Nothing was pure between Ubbe and yourself.

His touch was intoxicating and you felt like you needed more of it. You needed this touch in every inch of your body. It was forbidden – Ubbe was forbidden. And that was the exact reason you had to stop this. Because if you didn't, it would ruin you again and this time it would be worse than any other.

You took some steps back. He didn't try to reach you again. Ubbe knew himself that this was a big mistake and it shouldn't happen again.

"Margrethe probably needs you." You told him bitterly. You couldn't even pronounce her name without feeling this weird feeling which had the exact taste with poison. "She's close to give birth to your child. You should be there for them both."

Ubbe knew that you were speaking the truth – he should have been with his wife – and yet he was in your chambers standing opposite you, feeling attracted to this room – feeling attracted to you.

"You didn't need me though."

It surprised you to hear him saying that. However, it was another truth that couldn't go by unnoticed or stay hidden between you two. You didn't lie to each other because you didn't care about the opinion the other person would form. At least that was what it was supposed to be like.

Indeed almost each month of your pregnancy you were alone, but you liked it. You didn't want Ubbe around – you hated the idea that he would eventually be around when this child would be born.

"But she does." You managed to mutter. You were trying to bring back those feelings. Those you had for him during your pregnancy – when he had been on another raiding and you hadn't seen him for plenty of months.

When you could actually hate him because you didn't have to see him every single day.

"Once you had told me that your feelings for me weren't hateful when I was away." Ubbe's voice held a different tone. One you confessed coming out of his mouth few times.

Yes, you could recall that conversation. It was the one he told you that he was thinking about you at the battlefield, but it was too late to believe in his words, because you had already found out about the slave girl and her child. It was one of the worst days of your life – how somebody could forget the day their life took the downfall.

Although, that conversation was the last thing you wanted to remember after all this threats and the tears you shed. And yet it was still stuck in your mind like it was yesterday.

"I was trying to give in to the feelings I felt for you. The way I had you in my mind when I was at the battlefield. Don't ask me how those feelings were formed — I have no idea. I was thinking of you, knowing that you were praying for me not to return. Those feelings couldn't be replaced by any fight we had. At the end of the day, all that stayed in my mind was one of your rare smiles and the way you care for our son."

Ubbe had said.

"I have never prayed for you to die on the battlefield. I did quite the opposite in fact and it felt strange in my heart. I hated — I told my self to hate you — I was telling myself all the things I hated in you so I could hate you. I felt strange for you — my heart was beating in a strange way as much as I tried to avoid it, it exists, still."

That was your reply.

Your eyes were fixed on his gaze. Ubbe wasn't paying attention in anything else in the room but you. It felt like nothing else existed except the two of you. If it was under different circumstances, you would feel special and even loved – only if it was even possible to acknowledge how it felt to be loved by someone.

His tone was a soft and kind of regretful one. But it had never lasted long. This time time it wasn't due to him mood swings but due to his brother storming in the room, out of breath. Hvitserk cut him off when it was obvious that he was about to say something – or more accurately – confess something.

When you saw the man standing next to the door, you let a long breath – one you weren't aware that you were holding all this time – to leave.

"Margrethe is in labour!" Hvitserk exclaimed and everything changed inside you. It felt like the reality was coming back and your delightful dream was over. The object of your misery was back there – visible –standing in your way.

Your husband's eyes met yours. Regret – they yelled. But you couldn't understand which was the thing he had regretted for.

For cheating?

For impregnating her?

For marrying her?

For treating you like garbage?

For forcing you to stay in his side?

For the misery he put you into?

Too many reasons and they weren't all of them. There must have been something you couldn't recall. And yet, you didn't care. You couldn't even feel pity for your wasted life anymore. In fact, you couldn't anything – you were empty.

"She's asking for you brother." Hvitserk spoke again this time softer. His eyes were moving from Ubbe to you and the opposite, because no one of you had said a word.

"Yes." Was the only thing Ubbe managed to say and dragged his brother outside of the room. "You should be there too. Make yourself proper and come." Your husband was back. That was the Ubbe you knew. Your tyrant.

You had no tears left to shed. You were just empty as you were putting on your dress.

You were empty when you walked through her chambers and had to confess her labour.

You were empty even when the child was out. Boy – the midwife had announced happily. And she brought it in your hands and you weren't empty anymore. He was crying his guts out – like your own. His brown eyes were big and pure and you lost yourself inside them so mush that you almost didn't noticed. Although when you actually show them, they didn't mean anything – a child was brought in the world and it was the biggest blessing Frigg could give to a woman.

"Give him to me!" Margrethe's voice was the one who heard through the silent room, but you didn't move to place her son on her lap.

"The prince should hold him, my lady." The midwife reasoned her, but she didn't stop yelling for her son.

Even if she wanted, she couldn't hide away the child from Ubbe. Sooner or later, he would see him. You couldn't interfere or even felt pity. Nobody pitied you when you cried. Nobody cared for you feelings.

You placed the boy on her lap. Without sparing a look at her – the young man was all you cared about. Which could possibly be his fate. Why did it have to be this difficult for a baby just born. Why should a child carry its parent's burdens.

Your footsteps were vast as you were exiting that suffocating room.

"Son." You muttered when you met the curious eyes of the people who were supposed to be your family. Your eyes dared to wander only on Ubbe's form. You were supposed to bring him his son on your hands and it would probably have happened this way is things had been different.

Ubbe frowned when he spotted your unclear expression. Even you weren't empty enough to be idle after this. You almost felt sympathy for him, forgetting about all the horrible things you had been through because of his cruelty.

If you were as cruel as Ubbe was on you, you would even say that all this was a payback for all his doing. But you didn't feel like it, not when in the middle of this situation stood a new-born boy. One that would probably be the object to everyone's ire.

Ubbe didn't wait for a second word or asked anything else, he just burst into the room without warning. You didn't dare to move or speak another word. After all, it wasn't about you anymore.

Tag list: @bruher, @utterlyhopeful-fics, @hypocritic-trash-baby, @fofisstilinski, @brianochka, @thelirofnorthlands, @malamistka, @gothicwidowsworld, @savagemickey03, @brianna-merlim, @shitsandgiggles1

#vikings ubbe #ubbe imagine #ubbe lothbrok #ubbe ragnarsson #ubbe #ubbe x reader #ubbe fanfiction #vikings au #vikings x reader #vikings imagine #vikings fic

[barnes-lothbrok]

Jealousy

Ivar x reader

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

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

Word count - 2k

This all started because of a gif set by @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie and I sort of ran away with it

ווווווווווווווווווווווו×

You grow up alongside the sons of Ragnar.  Being the daughter of Aslaug's closest confidant, you were always in close proximity to the brothers during childhood. You were closest in age to Ivar having been born only a few months before and as you grew together, you formed a bond that no one could truly explain. 

You were the only one who wasn't terrified of him after the incident with the boy. As all the children in Kattegat would run away from him, making a game out of it, you were seen happily pulling his cart around, chatting away to him as you venture around the town taking him anywhere he wished to go.

On days where he was unable to play, you would sit with him and make up stories to keep him entertained, often acting out some of the scenes, bouncing around his room as you fought a dragon or giant sea monster. 

As time passed a few things changed, while he was being mentored by Floki, your mother had you learn the loom and the meaning of different herbs.

But you were never apart for long as on days when he was still busy you would run to Floki's cabin and wait for him. On days when you didn't meet Ivar, he would wait for you by the tree you'd claim as your own when you were younger, having craved IL + YN into the trunk.

You spent hours laying under the tree, side by side, watching as the sunset and the stars appeared twinkling between its branches. It was the place you shared your hopes and dreams with one another.

You wished to become a shield maiden, just like the legendary Lagertha, while Ivar dreamed of becoming a warrior, to be able to raid and fight along side his brothers. 

The afternoons and evenings spent under that tree was the first memory Ivar had of the flutter that appeared in his chest whenever he looked at you. You never laughed or mocked his desires, you simply listened and smiled at him. 

The first big change to your friendship was when Ivar spent the night with Margrethe. Everyone was aware of how she spent her time between the princes, of how she'd captured all of their gaze. She was extremely beautiful and you never missed the way, they all looked at her, especially Ivar. 

So one evening after having been invited to dinner and Aslaug had left the table, it was no surprise when his brothers tried to convince Ivar that Margrethe was the perfect option for him to lose his virginity. They spoke as if you were one of them. 

"I'm sure Y/N agrees" Hvitserk said, finishing a mouthful of pork "Right?" 

You looked between each of them from Hvitserk with his dopey expectant smile to Sigurd who peered from under his hair, gripping his cup a little too tight, he had always hated the idea of sharing with Ivar, and then to Ubbe who's smile dropped slightly as if he knew you didn't want to answer. 

"I mean, sure" You shrugged, looking down at your cup of ale, unable to even look at Ivar. If you had, you would have seen the light in his eyes fade a little. "The way you all speak of her, he would be a fool, not too" 

After that night and the rumours of Ivar being impotent spread, Ivar drew himself away from you, spending more time training with his brothers or at the blacksmiths. 

Your dream of becoming a shield maiden was put on hold when your mother became sick. A plague hit the town, taking your mother with it. Aslaug brought you in as a kindness for all the years your mother was by her side and treated you like a daughter she never had. She taught you many things a woman could be, beside being a shield maiden. 

On the day, Ivar took his first steps, you had been in the market when you noticed Ubbe and Hvitserk hanging around the blacksmiths. You made Hvitserk jump as you suddenly appeared between them.

"What are you doing?" You spoke loudly and close to his ear, causing him to almost choke on his apple. You were about to laugh until he pointed at two legs caged in metal on the floor. 

While grunting and groaning, Ivar heaved himself up. You wanted to rush forward and help him but Ubbe gently placed a hand on your shoulder. Taking small and wobbly steps, Ivar stood before your trio, a wide grin on his face.

"Ivar" you whispered, looking him up and down before grinning back "Ivar, you're walking!" You joyfully cried before barreling him into a hug and having to apologise profusely as you almost knocked him backwards. 

ווווווווווווווווווווווו×

It was after the return from their first raid, that Ivar noticed his brothers spending more time with you, getting closer than they did before. It seemed to grip his chest with an urge to hurt them or pull them away from you every time he saw it.

The summer away from you seemed to make the Lothbrok brothers notice how you had turned into a beautiful woman. No longer the messy haired bundle of energy that would play-fight with them or get drunk with them but a woman who held herself with elegance and grace. While they had been away, Aslaug had turned you into someone much like herself. 

Ivar first noticed Hvitserk being closer to you. The pair of you had been sparring, although their mother didn't approve, you would often join them in training when you were free to do so.

As you moved backwards, you stumbled over a small rock and while trying to catch you, Hvitserk's feet became tangled in your own. Crashing to the ground, Hvitserk arms were beside your head as he caught himself from squishing you. Your faces were inches apart as the hair falling out of his braid covered your faces like a curtain. 

Ivar didn't miss the way, you stared at each other, breaths caught before you burst out laughing when Hvitserk dropped his head and blew a wet raspberry on your cheek, causing you to squeal with laughter and push him away. 

The second was Sigurd. He nearly fell over when he walked into the hall and found you sitting on the floor in front of Sigurd. His arms were wrapped around you, from the chair above as he tried to teach you the strings to play a tune on the lyre. He'd been practicing for Ubbe and Torvi's wedding.

When he played it always sounded so beautiful but when you tried it sounded broken. 

"Sigurd, you make it looks so easy" you whined and tried again before you both cringed at the noise it made "nope, I'm leaving the music to you" 

"Probably best too, don't want to anger the gods at the wedding" He teased before surprisingly kissing your cheek. Sigurd had noticed Ivar watching and could help a smirk as he watched him leave before you looked to where Ivar had just been having missed him.

The third and final straw was Ubbe. Everyone was celebrating his marriage to Torvi. The hall was filled with music, laughter and drunken singing. It was late into the celebrations when he saw you speaking to Ubbe and Torvi. 

He'd been watching you most of the day as you walked around, looking like a goddess in your flower crown, with your hair loose. You'd laughed and spoken with many people but not him. He supposed that was his own doing as he pushed you further and further away but how he wished it was himself that you were laughing with. 

He watched over the rim of his cup as you took Ubbe's hand and began to dance. Sigurd and his band changed the music to a slower pace and Ubbe happily twirled you around, his hand coming to rest on your lower back. Ivar could see you talking and smiling with each other. Ubbe said something to make you laugh, the melody echoed in Ivar's ears. 

He clenched his jaw, eyes trained on the pair of you before looking away as your eyes met his. When he looked back again, he felt his heart being squished as you kissed Ubbe's cheek. He slammed his cup down and angrily gathered his crutch. 

He couldn't watch anymore. Ubbe was married and he still had your affection, all of them did but him. Sure, he'd never seen anything more than kisses on the cheek but it was more than you had been giving him.

Ever since they returned, you didn't follow him around like you used to. In the past he would throw a tantrum and yet you would still be there the next day but now you seemed to be allowing him to keep the distance that he created and he didn't like it. 

He thought about going back in there and demanding you talk to him again, that's all he wanted, was for you to talk to him. 

That was a lie, he wanted so much more. He wanted to wake up beside you, kiss you, feel your touch. He wanted have celebrations like this for the pair of you. To have the life you promised each other under that stupid tree when you were too young and naive to understand the promises you were making.

You were meant to be his, you were always his and now you were slipping away with every passing day. 

He paused for a moment conflicted as to keep going or to turn around. If he kept going, he would have time to think but turning around meant he would get answers to satisfy the demons telling him, you hated him, that you couldn't love him, that you pitied him. 

As he turned around, he was taken aback by you coming out of the hall making your way towards him. "There you are" You smiled at him "where are you going? I was looking for you" 

"Well I'm right here, I have been all night. Not that you even care" Ivar's brow was creased, his eyes struggling to hide a burning anger. 

"Not care? Ivar, of course I care" you smiled didn't fade as you looked at him "I wouldn't have come to find you if I didn't, you donkey" 

"You have a funny way of showing it" he spat "Parading around all day. Laughing at any man's attention, even throwing yourself at the groom. It's embarrassing, like a dog in heat" 

"Throwing myself at the groom?" Your smile dropped and turned into a frown "I was congratulating Ubbe on the marriage to the woman he's loved for years. Every woman can offer the groom to dance, mine was tame compared to Greta's, which you would have seen if you hadn't stormed out" 

"I wasn't going to stay and watch you embarrass yourself any longer" he held his head high, looking down on you. 

"Embarrass myself? I was having fun. Which is more than I can say for you. Sitting in the corner of your brother's wedding, watching me with a face like someone pissed in your cup" you spat back. 

He was shocked by the fact you noticed him watching you. You always noticed those intense blue eyes on you. 

"Honestly, Ivar, I don't understand what I have done," you sighed "Ever since you got back, you have been this brooding, and sometimes cruel bastard. I have seen you like that to others but never to me" 

The way you said his name like it was laced with venom, hurt  "So tell me Ivar, what have I done?" 

His jaw clenched as he gripped his crutch harder. His demons were yelling at him to call you a whore, nothing more than someone to warm his brother's beds, that you only stuck around for the lifestyle his mother gifted you and that you'd do anything to keep it. 

But he stopped himself, as he looked at you, the expectant look on your face, the hurt in your eyes and the heavy raise and fall of your chest as if you were scared of what was going to come out of his mouth. He knew his anger could be vicious but never had it been directed at you before. 

"You make me feel…." He started before looking away from you "You make me feel," he quietly said, looking you in the eyes again "and I don't like it. I want it to stop. I don't know how to make it stop" 

#ivar x reader #ivar the boneless #ivar lothbrok #ivar ragnarsson #hvitserk ragnarsson #hvitserk lothbrok #vikings #ubbe ragnarsson #sigurd ragnarsson #sigurd lothbrok #ubbe lothbrok #vikings fanfiction #ivar x y/n #ivar x you #ivar angst #ivar fluff

[literaryuppsala]

Your love is bright as ever (even in the shadows)

Title: XO by Beyoncé

Pairing: Ubbe x Reader (fem)

Summary: Ubbe is the prince charming of this fairy tale.

Words:  6kish

Warnings: This is fluff, It doesn’t even look like I had written It, but there’s smut too, so yeah, I had to. P in V (unprotected because they hadn’t invented condoms back then, but you have no excuse today, wrap it), there’s oral sex (fem receiving), there’s kind of a breeding kink very slightly?? There’s a mention of a cheating husband since Ubbe kisses the reader when he’s still married to crazy Margrethe, but I guess It’s well deserved. There’s mentions of death, blood and violence too. I guess that’s all, either way proceed with caution. I used a few lines from the show too, so credits to Michael Hirst. 

A/N: I deleted my other account (stylinsonliving) and all my works will be reposted here, any doubt send me an ask. This was an ask I’ve been sent a while ago on my other account, so anon, If you’re out there seeing this, it’s for you, with the happy ending and all that. My asks are always open: you can request a filthy smut, a relationship advice and my political opinion, I’ll answer to all of it. Feedback is always welcome and my mistakes are always mine.  

Filth below the cut, enjoy ♥:

***

The ship docked and your heart jumped inside your chest. As the seer foresaw years ago, your fate wasn’t in your homeland, but in Kattegat, the famous city. You just never expected to arrive there as a slave to be sold. You and the other women were tied up and cuffed together, and were dragged out of the ship, through the harbor, to the market. Aligned side by side, you and the others didn’t dare to raise your heads, eyes trained on the ground waiting.

Your whole family was killed, your parents, brothers and sisters, your husband to be, all of them dead and gone, for whatever reason, even after all your wounds, you made it out of the attack alive, full of pain and scars, but breathing. The memories were still vivid, still burning in the back of your mind, reminding you what you lost at every new heartbeat.  

People came by and went away, almost like they didn’t even see you there, the commotion around the others wasn’t the same around you, too small to make a good slave, or so you thought.

After a few minutes, all the conversation stopped and you sighed heavily. Muffled footsteps caught your attention but you still didn’t look up, still waiting in silence until you heard a firm, yet soft voice, crossing through the silence like a knife.

“What is happening here?” She asked.

“They’re from Hedeby.” The man who brought you here answered politely and your body shuddered when he mentioned your homeland. “They have a new earl. Heard he is not into insubordination.”

“Didn’t hear about It.” She insisted, but he didn’t answer. “I’ll take all of them. Send them to the great hall.”

You gulped softly when you felt a bump, your body being dragged again for a few more minutes until you entered the great hall. You looked around carefully, saw the few people there gathered around staring at you and whispering to each other.

“Untie them.” 

You heard that same voice ordering and you widen your eyes, finally looking up when you felt someone softly touch your hands. When you made eye contact with the woman untying your hands, she smiled at you, touching carefully the deep wounds on your wrists. 

“I’m Lagertha.”

The name sent shivers down your spine, you snapped, looking up towards the throne. Standing there, was the most famous shieldmaiden of all Norway, she was even more beautiful than the stories could ever say, she had a soft, caring smile on her face, looking at you all with nothing but tenderness in her eyes. 

“Here, you’ll never be slaves, you can serve in my house as free women If that’s what you want or you can leave, go back to your homes or find some place else to live, it’s your decision to make.”

You heard of Lagertha’s kindness, but never imagined to be the one to feel it. All of the women looked at each other in shock, no one dared to make the first move, until one of them took a step forward.

“Come.” Lagertha said, going down the stairs towards the girl.

“Can I- Can I go back to Hedeby? What’s left from my family is still there.”

“I’ll have them set a boat for you…” She answered kindly, holding the girl’s hands. “And for anyone else who wants to go with her.”

It didn’t take long before all of the girls decided their fates, a few went back to Hedeby, others asked for help to go somewhere else, soon, you were the only one still there, standing alone at the corner of the great hall. You didn’t know what to do, for the first time in your life you had no one, you were alone, had no family to come back to, no dream to pursue, nothing to call yours. A few tears gathered on the corners of your eyes and threatened to fall, your heart dropped on your stomach, the emptiness was unbearable.

“And her?” You heard someone ask, imagined It referred to you.

“She didn’t say anything, sat there by herself since she came here.”

You didn’t dare to look, too ashamed, but heard when someone approached and carefully crouched in front of you, warm hands kindly on your knees made you look up, finding Lagertha’s beautiful baby blues staring at you.

“And you? Why are you here hiding in the shadows?” She asked softly.

“I have no one to come back to, nowhere else to be.” You answered shyly.

“You’re home then.” She smiled and touched your face.

After this, Lagertha took you under her wings. As she promised, if you wanted to serve in her house as a free woman, you could, and that’s what you did. Beyond that, the shieldmaiden took care of you, protected you. Later, you learned she had lost a daughter at a young age and you were as old as she would be If she was alive, that would explain her tenderness towards you and Bjorn was always sailing, she was a mother without any children and you were a daughter without a mother.

Your connection was instantaneous, in such a small amount of time, you learned to love her, care for her, the feeling was mutual, she licked your wounds until all of them became deep, but healed scars and within a year or so you could finally say you were a happy woman again.

But that wasn’t a constant for you, it could never be.

As you cleaned the table you heard muffled footsteps walking faster behind you, you already knew who they belonged to.

The basket found the wood of the table with a thud, the noise startled you a bit and you squeaked in surprise, looking towards the sound with narrowed eyes.

“Go wash this.” Her voice was nothing but an angry hiss, and she didn’t bother looking at you.

“After I clean the table.” You answered, looking back at your own hands.

“No. Leave it.” She said It again, this time holding your forearm and stopping you from doing what you needed.

You looked at her skeptic. “I’ll do It after I finish this.” You answered again, pulling your arm from her grip with a sharp movement.

“Didn’t you hear me?” She grunted. “Go. Now.”

“I don’t work for you Margrethe.” You angrily answered, dropping the cloth over the table and leaving her behind, hoping she wouldn’t follow you. You were wrong.

“You are definitely talking nonsense. You work for the queen. I’m her son’s wife.” She insisted, running after you until she could grab your forearm again, stopping you on your tracks and turning your body with a violent move.

“I’m as free as you.” You pulled your arm from her grip one more time, her nails causing red scratches on your skin. She smirked.

“I don’t see how you can be on the same level as me.” She crossed her arms in front of her chest.

“Leave me alone.” You turned and re-started walking.

“Margrethe.”  You heard a deep, husky voice coming from behind you, but didn’t dare to look, you knew who was talking. Her husband would probably scold her for tormenting you, you smiled to yourself, but that wouldn’t stop her from doing It again when he wasn’t around.

Ubbe was a great man, a great husband, Margrethe should be thankful to the gods for their blessing, putting a man like him in her life, but she surely didn’t know what to do with that luck.

“She is not worth this frown on your face.” That was Ivar, the youngest of all the Ragnarssons never ceased to put a smile on your face.

“How do you know who put this frown on my face?” You narrowed your eyes, looking down at the man at your feet.

“Who else?” He squeaked, looking up at you with a smirk.

“You know me too well, prince Ivar.” You sighed, both of you now walking together towards the river.  

“You really shouldn’t let her get under your skin; you know?” He insisted, crawling by your side.

“She treats me so badly. I never did anything to deserve her hate towards me, I’ve always been nothing different than kind to her.” Ivar laughed when you finished, and you asked curiously. “What?”

“Nothing. Just know, she doesn’t need any particular reason to be mean towards anyone, you know what she does to me.” He continued hard, running out of breath from the long path.

“She’s not fair to any of us.” You hummed under your breath, both of you reaching the riverside, sitting under a tree.

“Life isn’t fair either, but you don’t see me complaining.” He answered looking over the river, like he just told you such great news.

“You complain all the time, prince Ivar.” You laughed shyly.

“Shut up.”

From all of them, Ivar would be the one you grew closer to, it seemed to you he would understand how broken someone can be and still have the strength to keep pushing forward. He knew the feeling, he knew you. Inadvertently he grabbed your hand, taking It to his lips giving you a fast kiss and a reassuring squeeze, knowing full well how awful It was for you to be the target of Margrethe’s hatred.

“Thank you for your company, prince Ivar.” You whispered, looking at him tenderly.

Later that evening, all of you were sitting at the table, talking excitedly with each other. Queen Aslaug e and Queen Lagertha had their eyes on each other, sometimes gazing through the great hall with beautiful smiles on their faces. You and Torvi sat side by side whispering about Bjorn and their kids, how he seemed to be still getting used to their stamina, Hali was running around while the big, bulky man ran behind him holding little Asa in his arms. Their little family was something you secretly envied, especially since you still hadn’t built yours. You truly loved them, but you still wanted to have what they had.    

“My cup is empty.” Margrethe’s voice startled you, when you looked at her, she smirked at you, shaking her cup.

“Go fill it up.” Ivar answered before you did.

“Why? When we have her to do It?” She hissed, clearly lightheaded from all the ale running through her blood.

The silence ran through the great hall, all of the eyes were on you and you felt your cheeks flush, completely embarrassed by her comment. You moved like you were about to get up, but Torvi held your forearm, stopping you.

“She’s not your slave, Margrethe.” She grunted, looking angrily at her.

“What is happening?” Was Aslaug’s chance to speak, she looked confused at her children.

“It seems like the servant doesn’t want to serve.”

“What servant?”

“Her.” She pointed at you.

“She’s no servant.” Lagertha intervened. “Go and fill your own cup.”

“You both keep treating her like she’s some sort of princess while giving me the cold shoulder.” She answered angrily, getting up and pushing away the chair she was seated on, throwing It on the floor. “I am Ubbe’s wife. Me. She’s no one.”

“Enough.” Ubbe spoke finally, getting up quickly and grabbing Margrethe’s arm.

Both of them left the great hall mumbling to each other, he even looked over his shoulders towards you, icy blue burning holes on your skin before looking away and vanishing into the dark of the night.

“Are you alright?” Torvi asked, holding your hand, you just nodded.

“Of course she’s not alright.” Ivar answered for you again. “This has to stop. If Ubbe won’t do anything about It, then I will.”

“Don’t talk like that about your brother’s wife.” Aslaug scolded him. “She was drunk, didn’t mean anything she said.”

“Oh mother, please.” Sigurd spoke. “It’s not like we didn’t witness Margrethe tormenting the poor girl before. You just don’t want to see.”

“Sigurd!” She hissed, then looked at you with an apologetic smile. “I’m sure she understands that we don’t see her as a slave or a servant. Right?” You nodded again, and smiled sadly.

A few minutes later, when all of them got back into the conversation, you discreetly left the great hall, telling Torvi you were just too tired to stay there and walked back to your house, the little cabin Lagertha had made for you all those years ago when you first arrived in Kattegat. You entered, lighting up the candles and carefully moving towards your bedroom.

As you got rid of your dress you felt heavy, hot tears gathering on your eyes, feeling as small as a grain of sand, stepped on by mean old Margrethe for no particular reason. Sitting on your bed, you looked out of your window and murmured shyly.

“Please, Freyja… Help me…”

You said your prayers, thought about going to Uppsala to make amends with the Gods, maybe Margrethe was a punishment from them, maybe you had to pay for being alive when everyone else from your family had died screaming. Taking you out of your thoughts, timid knocks on your door caught your attention. Your eyes went wide when you opened It, meeting the beautiful icy blue irises sparkling on Ubbe’s face.

“What are you doing here?” You asked surprised.

“I came to apologize on my wife's behalf.” He answered carefully; eyes trained on your face.

“It’s alright, prince Ubbe. I am already used to her.” You tried to sound confident, even though you were nothing but an insecure mess.

“There’s no need for lies here. She’s unfair to you, for no reason at all. I talked to her, I talk to her everyday about this, but It seems to me that It doesn’t matter how much of a talker I am, she just doesn’t listen.” He explained and seemed embarrassed.

“Like I said, I’m alright.” You insisted.

“Then why are you back in your home so early?”

You didn’t have any answer for that, you looked at him and blinked in confusion, that fight was tiring, you had no idea that to put up with Margrethe would bring you so much pain. You were used to the pain, that shouldn’t hit you so bad, but It happened anyway.

“I was tired, that’s all.” You said, moving away from his gaze.

“Still… I am sorry. I really am.”

The next morning, you woke up early, both you and Lagertha had an arrangement to train every morning by the river and you got ready to do It, leaving your home before sunrise. But when you got there, instead of finding your mentor, you found Ubbe sitting under the tree, when he saw you, he quickly got up.  

“Lagertha had an important meeting and asked me to come and help you.” He told you softly. “Is there any problem?”

“No. It’s just… It’s just that It’s normally Hvitserk and Ivar.” You swallowed hard.

“Not today.”

You turned your back at him to grab your wooden sword down on the ground, he didn’t wait to attack you though, catching you by surprise when he threw a shield at you.

“Hey, I wasn’t ready!” You complained, getting wobbly as you tried to balance the sword and the shield without falling to the ground.

“You must always be ready.” He grunted, trying to attack you again. “And can never turn your back on your enemy.”

You dropped the shield and started to repel his blows with your own sword, grunting under your breath as you started to get panting and weary. Ubbe was fast, unrelenting, there was a tension between you, something heavy enveloping both of your bodies while you kept attacking and defending yourselves. Crouching before him, you could finally mess with his balance, hitting both of his legs. He quickly got up, only this time you were more aware and started to hit him nonstop until he lost his balance again and fell on his back.

“Not very much ready this time, prince Ubbe.” You commented breathlessly.

He smirked, getting up again very quickly, dodging your insistent blows, he dropped his sword on the ground and gripped your fist, tangling his legs with yours, he made you trip and fall, falling on top of you and trapping you under his huge frame. Your arms were raised over your head and held by one of his hands while the other held his weight so he wouldn’t crash his body over yours.

“I’m always ready.” He huffed; the blow of his breath so close to your face you felt its warmth on your cheeks. You tried to squirm away, but everything was fruitless, he didn’t move a single muscle.

“What are you doing?” You murmured.

“Winning the fight.”

You didn’t quite register his moves, but felt when his lips touched yours, so quick you asked yourself If you weren’t seeing things, feeling things. As fast as he brought you down, he picked you up and before you noticed you were back on your feet, looking up at him confused, his big hands were covering the side of your face like he didn’t want to let you go, eyes fixed on yours.

Again, he kissed you, lips molding on yours carefully, testing the waters. You closed your eyes, hugged his waist because you needed something to hold onto, your legs were wobbly, your brain was malfunctioning, you had nothing on your mind except the taste of his lips and the scent of his skin surrounding you. He squeezed your cheek before pulling away, still looking into your eyes. 

“I regret marrying her.” He said suddenly. “I was too young, she’s not who I thought she was.” 

“Are you saying this to make me feel less guilty about kissing a married man?” 

“You shouldn’t feel guilty at all.” He hissed when you squirmed away from his grip. “If I had known you were coming to Kattegat, I would have waited a little more.” 

That confession danced through your mind all day long, the stolen glances between you and Ubbe seemed to ignite an uncontrollable will to kiss him again, warming your body from inside out. But, everytime your eyes met his, Margrethe’s green pair suddenly showed up in your memory and you looked away, afraid of what she could do If she ever found out what happened between you and her husband.

As the weeks passed, Ubbe grew closer to you, he would help you with your training every time Lagertha wasn’t able to do It, sometimes both of them would show up to train you. Just like Ivar and Hvitserk, he would joke around you, keep you company and even help you with work, even under Margrethe’s angry looks. 

“You keep doing that, she will leave you.” You said once. 

“Or I’ll leave her.” He winked at you, smirked and gave you a quick peck on the lips. You widen your eyes.

“Ubbe!” You gulped loudly and tried to hide the silly smile on your face, or not to follow him with your eyes while he walked away with Hvitserk, both of them laughing and looking at you over their shoulders. 

You didn’t notice the footsteps behind you, but when you turned you saw Aslaug walking towards you, surrounded by her slaves as always and with a tiny smirk on her face. You moved away from her gaze feeling your cheeks burn with embarrassment, imagining she probably thought the worst of you If she saw her son giving you kisses on the lips. 

“He’s never this happy with her, you know.” She mumbled when she approached you. You didn’t answer. “I know you like him too.” 

“It doesn’t change the fact that he’s still married.”

“I know she’s not the one for him.” 

“Did you see It?” You asked, looking at her with widened eyes and she nodded. “The seer told me years ago my fate was here in Kattegat.”

“Your fate is here, yes. Lagertha was right when she said you’re home, you really are.” She smiled then, touching your face softly before leaving. 

You kept doing your chores, avoiding Margrethe as much as you could through the day, trying not to think about Ubbe or the fact that you were falling for a man who was already taken. By nightfall, you were gathering a few plates to set the table for supper and all your effort to stay out of Margrethe’s way proved futile. 

“If I were you, I would leave before I had the chance to pierce my husband’s sword through your body.” She angrily grunted while placing her hand on your shoulder and turning you to look at her. 

“You don’t scare me.” You quickly squirmed away from her grip, taking the plates with you and walking away.

“But you should!” She insisted. “I know you think you have fooled everyone, but you could never fool me.” She kept going, growling angrily behind you. 

“Please, Margrethe, I’m tired of fighting with you.” You insisted, spreading the plates all over the table. “There’s no reason for you to treat me like that.”

“No reason?? Do you really think I didn’t see what was happening here? You bewitched my husband! You’ve been trying to steal him away since you arrived here, I’m not stupid!”

You looked at her in shock, confused at first but then you let the anger finally take away all your goodwill. 

“You’re a witch!” She screamed, raising her hand and preparing to slap your face, but you were fast enough to hold her wrist in the air stopping the blow before It hit your face. 

“I am not a witch!” You growled in anger. “I am not trying to steal anybody’s husband, let alone yours. I know my place, Margrethe, I don’t need you to keep reminding me It.” 

“Then why did he leave this morning saying he loved somebody else??”

“You have to ask him, not me.” 

With that being said, she jumped on you, throwing your body on the ground while she started to slap your face. You tried to squirm away, raised your arms to defend yourself, but she managed to hurt you a bit. That little fight would’ve taken long If Ubbe didn’t show up to take his wife off of you. 

“What is happening here?” He asked in shock, putting the pettit crazy blonde on the floor and stopping her from continuing to beat you. You quickly crawled away, face burning because of the scratches she left on your skin and the embarrassment she caused you.

“She’s trying to steal you from me! I won’t accept this.” She kept struggling in his arms as he tried to hold her in place. 

“Nobody is stealing me from you. I left you because I wanted to.” He answered, this time he was looking straight into her eyes.

“Because she’s a witch. I know you love me!” She insisted, tears started to gather in her eyes as she turned into a complete mess. 

You quickly got up, didn’t want to witness anything that was happening between them as she screamed on his face. You walked away tapping the dirt away from your gown, cleaning the sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand and trying to hold the stubborn tears that threatened to fall over your burning cheek. That’s when you heard footsteps behind you and let a frustrated grunt escape through your lips. 

“Leave me alone, Margrethe!” You grunted.

Before you could continue, a big hand wrapped around your forearm and stopped you on your tracks, turning your body abruptly. You bumped into Ubbe’s firm chest before you could avoid, looking into his eyes as soon as he grabbed you. 

“Aren’t you tired of putting me through this?” You asked defeated. 

“Even If you tell me you don’t like me back, I will leave her anyway.”

“Then what? We’ll pretend she doesn’t exist? We’ll pretend she won’t torment our lives If we stay together?” 

“I don’t care about Margrethe, not anymore. Say the word and we’ll leave Kattegat for good.” 

You looked at him, eyes widened taking in he just said. 

“I choose you. No matter how hard it seems, I still choose you.” 

“Do you mean It?” You asked nervously. 

“Every word.” 

You had no idea you could love somebody as much as you loved your fiancée, the one you lost so many years before, but as you watched Ubbe and running down to the great hall with Hvitserk and Sigurd right on his tracks, the memory was long lost in another life. Margrethe was gone, completely vanished, some say she went mad after Ubbe left her, being honest you couldn’t care less. 

Ivar had his proud gaze on you the whole night, throwing toasts on your name, smiling widely and making fun of his brother for taking his chance to marry you. With Ubbe gladly saying he was your fate, not Ivar. Hvitserk passed out from drinking way early, Lagertha and Aslaug were all over each other while thinking nobody was noticing, Sigurd was probably running after another young woman to bed that night, and Torvi and Bjorn were too busy taking care of their children, again you were happy, surrounded by your new family, feeling warmed and loved. 

By the end of the night, the flowers on your head were already withering when your husband threw your body over his shoulders and ran with you to your shared home. Big hands slapping your ass while you laughed out loud, making no effort to squirm away from his touch. He put you down as soon as you got there, quickly grabbing your face and giving you a kiss. Wet lips that tasted like ale molded over yours and then pulled away. 

“Welcome home, wife.” He grinned, lips still on yours while he untied the straps of your bodice. 

The last strap loosened so your bodice fell on the ground becoming a tiny pile of leather around your feet. His hands found your jaw and raised your head so he could kiss the skin of your neck, sucking a few red marks you would proudly display on the next morning. He walked you blindly through the cabin until you felt the edge of the bed on the back of your knee. You fell in front of him, shaky fingers finding the straps of his trousers and starting to untie, while he did the same with his tunic, throwing It across the room. 

Without a second thought he grabbed you by your waist and hopped you up on the bed. Your arms quickly holding onto his shoulders for balance and pulling him with you as soon as your head met the pillows. His lips back on yours in no time while he looked blindly for the hem of your gown. 

As soon as he found It, he pushed over your waist and dragged his lips down your body until he was kissing your tummy, spreading his plushy lips on your skin, leaving a trail of wetness behind. You squirmed under his touch, hands quickly finding his braids as he kept the descent until he lapped up between your already wet folds. 

“There she is.” He grunted against your mound and you suspected he wasn’t talking to you. “Missed you.” 

Ubbe was a sexual being by nature, taking you anywhere and anytime he wanted. Not that you were complaining about It. But every time he had you under him, he would always act like It had been a long time since he last found home between your legs. Always talking to your cunt like she was a creature on its own. Sometimes you felt the same way. 

You moaned loud when you felt him teasing your entrance with the tip of his tongue, licking everything up till your clit so he could suck the tiny bud into his mouth. His hands rubbed up your body under your gown until he grabbed your breasts, yours quickly covering his over the fabric while your hips kept grinding down on his mouth on its own accord. 

“Ubbe…” You breathed softly. 

He moaned at the taste of you, nuzzling against your clit while licking up and down, side to side, like he was sipping the best drink he ever had. His bearded face scratched against your thighs, leaving even more marks on your soft skin, his fingers touched you roughly, tips rolling and tugging at your nipples the same way he would do with his mouth If he wasn’t already using It in another place.

Soon, he was fucking you with his tongue. You hooked your thighs on his shoulders, heels digging the middle of his back but he didn’t seem like he minded. Ubbe was claiming you in every possible way, his mouth made you feel like you had just reached Valhalla right before you died, you felt like you didn’t deserve that kind of pleasure coming from a man. 

You arched your back, gripped at his hair and squirmed under him. He had you like a feast, moaning around into your cunt like he always did, the vibrations of his grunts sent jolts of pleasure up your spine. His hands came down your body grabbing you by your hips and pulling you down on his mouth, you moaned loudly feeling the familiar coil on your lower belly start to form. 

Ubbe would easily take to your high with his mouth, lapping up your juices like a starved man, making wet noises with his tongue, he would always turn you into a whining mess very fast. He switched to suck on your clit and the coil snapped without a warning, your orgasm washing over you like a storm having you moaning his name like a prayer to the gods.

It didn’t take long until he was hovering you again, his trousers down his hips leaving his cock free to tease your thighs. He pushed your gown over your head just enough to keep your arms up on the bed, one of his hands holding them in place while the other grabbed the base of his cock, teasing your clit with his cock head. 

You opened your legs a little more, inviting him in. He coated himself in your juices and easily pushed into you. The stretch brought a familiar burn to your walls and both of you moaned in unisson when he bottomed out inside you. 

“There you go, sweetness…” He grunted, eyes closed while he felt your walls fluttering around him without making a single move. 

“Welcome home, husband.” You grinned. 

He opened his eyes, lust blown baby blues looking down at you while he started to move. Slowly pulling out until he bottomed out again, his cockhead was touching your cervix, you could feel It. He growled before kissing you again, tongue into your mouth so you could taste yourself, heavy breathing from his nose warming up your face while he picked up his pace. His cock was throbbing inside you, then he changed the angle hitting right into that sweet spot, his spot, the one that had you mewling against his lips, dragging your nails down his back and gripping his asscheeks in a silent beg for him to do It again. 

The sounds of his skin slapping against yours became louder, you wanted to touch him, show him with your hands how much you loved what he was doing, but with his hand stopping yours from coming down, you could only moan, whimper and whine against his mouth. Eyes wide open in hopes he would understand your silent beg. He hit your his spot again and you felt like you were about to burst. 

“Ubbe…” You gasp into his mouth.

“I know sweetness, I know.” He comforts you with his words like he isn’t fucking the life out of your body with his thrusts.  

When he hit you again, you combust, bursting into tiny little pieces all around him with a long, langid moan. Your walls squeezed him in and he growled, starting to thrust faster, harder and deeper. You squirmed away in oversensitivity and he growled again, oh you had to be kidding, taking his pussy away from him right before he filled you up to the brim, that wasn’t fair. 

“Gods, Ubbe, I’m going to cum again If you keep doing this.” You begged breathlessly, you didn’t think that you had any more orgasms into you, but he always proved you wrong. 

“I know. I want you to cum again. Give me one more so I can fill you up with my seed.” He grunted and you whined at his words. “Pussy squeezing me again, you want me to fill you up sweetness, want my seed dripping out of you.?”

“P-Please!” You stuttered. 

You were clenching down hard on him all over again, like you hadn’t cum just a few minutes prior, he thrusted deeper, making sure to hit his favorite spot every time. Your fingers curled around the gown on your hands, his hand that was holding the fabric quickly met one of yours, tangling his fingers with yours while he touched your forehead with his. Hips moving faster than before had your body, fucking you into the mattress with abadon. 

“So wet… All mine.” He growled, thrusting even deeper, dragging another filthy moan from your lips. “I’m going to cum sweetness, feel this pussy up until you’re dripping right back out.” His hips stuttered and he let out a choked moan, his cum filling your pussy to the brim. 

You whined as he pulled out, rolling off of you and laying by your side, panting heavily, just like you. 

“I can’t wait to see you all big and round with our child.” He muttered suddenly. 

“Someone’s anxious to become a father.” You whispered, turning on your side so you could hug him, giving him a quick peck on the lips before laying down on his chest. 

“Can’t sail away If you’re pregnant. And I don’t want to leave you here.” 

“Were you serious when you said you would leave Kattegat?”  

“Yes. I can’t stay, I’ve been tied to this land for too long. I’m viking.” He kissed your forehead before sighing. “And I’m not leaving you behind.” 

Ubbe was a man of his words, you learned that with time, a few months into your marriage and you still weren’t pregnant, that’s when he decided to sail, imagining It wasn’t the will of the gods that you brought a child into this world at least not at that moment. You begged the gods to give you a child, a son, you feared he would leave you If you couldn’t get pregnant, but it never happened. When the time came, he filled the ship with provisions and water, found himself a few good men to accompany him and had a place made for you right by his side. 

“Where shall we explore?” You asked once on the boat, his hands wrapped around your waist while the men started to paddle. 

“Wherever the sea takes us.”

That wasn’t a very good plan, you started to notice when the food and the water decreased a lot, very romantic but not very practical. You faced days and days of storms until the course of the vessel was changed drastically and you found yourselves in this new world. Close to a beach, you all looked at each other skeptic of what you were seeing with your own eyes. 

Either way you went there, the ship reached land for the first time in months and you jumped, quickly taking off your shoes to feel the sand on your feet, dropping to your knees and looking at the thicket right before your eyes. That’s when you felt his arms wrapping around your waist as he kneeled behind you, lips touching the crown of your head as he breathed your scent in. 

The gods send their blessings when you least expect, that’s what your mother always told you and after your first year on the new land, learning with the people who already lived there, experiencing the most exciting emotions you never thought you could feel, you felt the first sign of discomfort, an aching feeling in your tummy that affected your appetite, until you started to feel sick til the verge of throwing up. 

“You’re expecting a child.” The healer of that land told you in secrecy after you went to see her one night. 

That very night, coming back to the cabin Ubbe had built for the both of you, the big, bulky viking was still sleeping like a rock, didn’t even notice you had left. You smiled to yourself as you laid back in, right under his arm where you slept every night since you first spent It together, head on his chest listening to his heartbeat like a calming, soft lullabye, you closed your eyes, anxiously waiting to tell the news on the next morning. 

***

#ubbe ragnarsson #ubbe smut #ubbe x you #vikings ubbe #ubbe x reader #ubbe x reader smut #ubbe x you smut #ubbe imagine #ubbe fanfiction #vikings imagine #vikings fic #vikings smut

[waiting4inspiration]

Hello, I just read your story of ubbe x lector, I fell in love (at first I thought ooo so I'm skoll but I already saw that if it comes out, I think there are myths where it is said that fenrir had more children)It made me laugh, how Margaret looks like a character from a Korean novel (the empress remarries) the girl's name is rastha they are the same she is a slave, when she becomes the king's lover (in the case of margaret the prince's fiancée) they get very erm special)

Hi darling! Wow, I haven't worked on that story in a long time! But that's because the co-writer I was working on it with has a lot of things to deal with in their life and is unable to continue working on it with me. But yes, Margrethe is laughable in the story. I think I just like writing her as the annoying person who tries to fuck up everything and fails😂

[procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics]

Red

Summary: Ivar finally meets his match

Pairing: Ivar x dark!reader

Notes: tw: descriptions of violence, torture, death, gore

I don’t hate Margrethe actually, but this disgusting little idea festered in my head and I had to write it down. Not me posting two things in one day

Ivar’s POV

Harald and Halfdan were coming to Kattegat to depart for the Mediterranean with Bjorn, but more interestingly, they were coming with Harald’s daughter.

 Ivar vaguely remembered that Harald had a daughter by some shieldmaiden that was about his age. He suspected that his mother wanted to marry her to Ubbe or Hvitserk as she fussed over his older brother’s braids.

 They sat at the harbor to greet King Harald, a soft breeze brushing over reeds when the ships appeared at the horizon, quickly growing bigger.

 Soon enough, they docked, and King Harald and his men jumped off. Ivar was content with being ignored when he spotted the princess. She stood next to Halfdan, who was greeting Bjorn, not paying mind to anyone.

 The princess was breathtakingly beautiful.

 Her long hair was braided down her back and she wore clothes richer than King Harald’s but she herself outshined them, piercing eyes seemingly taking in everything and nothing.

 Suddenly she stood in front of him.

 “And you must be Ivar the Boneless.” She said. Ivar nodded.

 A hint of a smile decorated her otherwise neutral face. “You have the most fascinating reputation, Prince Ivar.”

 “Thank you, princess.” Ivar replied. Thoughts ran wild in his head, but the most prominent was, who the Hel thought my reputation was fascinating?

 Men unloaded goods while Shieldmaidens and warriors streamed into the great hall. The princess stood amidst all of them, uninterested.

 When her father walked up to her, she took his arm and let him lead her to the great hall. Ivar quietly followed.

 ***

 The feast was in full swing after only half an hour. People were laughing, dancing, and fighting, but she seemed almost comically bored. Ivar saw her eyes flit to the fights though.

 What he also saw was the way thralls from Vestfold skittered out of her way and even hardened warriors eyed her with wary eyes.

 Ivar knew those looks. When he looked over to Bjorn and Halfdan, he saw Halfdan turn away and took his chance.

 “Tell me brother, why are even hardened warriors suspicious of princess Y/N?” he asked him casually.

 Bjorn shrugged. “Halfdan says she likes to play games.”

 “What kind of games? Ivar asked.

 Bjorn got that stupid expression on his face that he always made when he was annoyed. “I don’t know, why don’t you ask her.”

 Ivar rolled his eyes at him and pulled himself away, back to where his mother, Ubbe and Harald were sitting.

 They were discussing marriage of course. Ivar took a drink and listened. When Aslaug offered to marry Ubbe to his daughter, he roared with laughter.

 When he calmed down, he gave Aslaug an apologetic smile. “I am not sure that my daughter is the right fit for Ubbe.”

 Aslaug gave him a thin smile. “I have many sons. Which one do you think is the right fit?”

 Harald paused, glancing over to his brothers before his eyes landed on Ivar. They seemed to bore through him as he took another sip of his horn. Then, he shook his head.

 “Nevermind. Marrying her to Ubbe would be better. If I married her to the right one, it would be madness.”

 Then, before anyone could ask more questions, Harald left to talk to Bjorn.

 Ivar’s eyes wandered back to the princess. She exuded riches, arrogance, and regality as she sat there, looking so utterly bored and yet more intelligent than most people he knew.

 She held her cup out to Margrethe, who poured wine into it. Margrethe, busy looking at Hvitserk, spilled only a few drops onto the hand of the princess.

 Abruptly, she tore her hand away and stood. Her face contorted into an expression of rage, and she slapped Margrethe across the face.

 Confused, Ivar looked over to Harald and Halfdan, who both sighed, but made no move to intervene.

 Y/Ns voice rang through the hall clearly as she spoke to Margrethe, shivering away. “Are all thralls in Kattegat so stupid, or only you? At least in Vestfold, they can do what they are supposed to do.”

 Laughs went through the hall as Y/N threw the still full cup at Margrethe and marched out of the Great Hall.

 Ivar followed.

 When he came outside, she was sitting on a wagon, sharpening a knife.

 “What are you doing?” he demanded.

 “What does it look like?” she snapped back. Rage transformed her into something entirely different, but he wasn’t sure if he ought to be scared or amazed.

 “That thrall, what was her name?” she asked.

 “Margrethe.” Ivar replied. He hated her too, but for entirely different reasons.

 She spat. “Of course, the stupid little bitch has a Christian name.”

 “I didn’t know that.” Ivar mused, “One more reason to kill her.”

 Y/N looked intrigued. “Oh? I don’t need many reasons, really.”

 Ivar remembered what Halfdan had told him. “Your uncle said you like to play games. What kind of games?”

 The princess laughed humorlessly. “Dear Halfdan. Always so insistent on keeping my reputation clean. But I hear we like the same kind of games, Ivar. I suppose it is why my father would be hesitant to marry us.”

 “I don’t understand.” Ivar lied. She seemed to see right through it.

 “Oh please. We would burn down empires and turn the world red.” She said. Then she picked up her knife, testing the blade. When she looked satisfied, she tucked it away.

 “I want to kill that thrall.” She said, a smile playing across her face.

 “Don’t you think your father would have something to say about that?” Ivar asked.

 “My father never says anything. I could stab him in the back, and he would still say that I was his perfect little princess. He doesn’t like seeing me covered in blood. Would you?” her eyes were dark, her violence clashing with his.

 “So then,” she began, getting off the wagon, “shall we give her a chase?”

 They agreed on a cruel plan to get Margrethe away from everyone else and out in the open. Ivar creeped back in, promising to get Hvitserk drunk, while she waited outside, ready to pounce on her prey.

 Margrethe almost screamed when she saw the crazed smile of Vestfold’s precious princess, but the woman covered her face with a fabric drenched in a relatively harmless poison. Ivar helped drag her away, deep into the forest.

 He waited in the opening, watching Margrethe begin to stir, while Y/N concealed herself in the trees.

 Your POV:

 When Margrethe saw Ivar, she scrambled backwards in terror, only to bump against your shins. You almost shiver in disgust as the slave touched your dress.

 You heard Ivar tut at her as she looked up at you, face marred with disgust.

 “Now, that is no way to look at a princess.” He whispered in her ear, a knife already trailing along her face.

 You nod to him, and he ties her against a tree. You will not lower yourself here in the middle of the clearing, where you’d have to kneel.

 When she’s tied to the tree, you stare down at her.

 She whimpers, and you realize she’s talking to you. “Why?” she asks. “What did I do?”

 “Not only did you almost ruin my dress,” you began, “But you have three Ragnarssons under your grip. Too much power for a slave, and I will never be the second choice.”

 You smiled cruelly, taking out your own knife. Her hair infuriated you. It was long, beautiful, and if you were honest, almost rivaled your own. Ripping her head towards you with her hair, you cut it off, not caring if you nicked her face.

 When you looked up, you realize that Ivar is staring at you, fascinated. “Do you like my game?” you ask. Ivar nods vigorously.

 “Then take your turn.”

 He nods and slides the knife along Margrethe’s collarbone and down, down, down, making a shallow cut above her heart. You laugh.

 “You haven’t done this very often, have you?” you mock him. He clenches his fist but says nothing.

 “Give me your axe.” You command him.

 “No. No, no, please don’t!” Margrethe begins to plead.

 “Shut the fuck up or I’ll cut out your tongue.” You say. She shuts up quickly.

 You try the weight of the axe in your hand, flipping it over, before taking aim. Blood sprays your face as you hack off her foot carelessly, before quickly ripping off her apron and wrapping the stump. Tears run across her face as she screams.

 Ivar takes his turn, slicing across her chest and stomach, and the blood begins to stain both your bodies.

 Even now, she looks beautiful.

 It makes you see red. First, you cut out her tongue to make her stop screaming, though it doesn’t help very much. Blood spills from her mouth, but she still looks pretty.

 You howl, before slapping her again. You begin to claw at her face, feeling skin curl like ashes beneath your nails and blood stain your hands red, red, red.

 She’s silent now, at least.

 Does Ivar know about your insecurities now? Your hands are slick with blood, but you grab his face, almost slipping down to his neck and pull him in for a heated kiss.

 You pull him with you, somewhere quiet, somewhere were you can take a bath and fuck away your frustration.

 Ivar follows you, also covered in blood.

 You strip without a care in the world, knowing his eyes are only on you.

 You pull him into the water with you and help him clean himself, before scrubbing the blood from under your nails, the moon sometimes illuminating your skin appearing slowly.

 The water around you turns red, but your vision finally becomes clear again.

Taglist: @alicedopey​ (not sure if you expected this though)

#ivar #ivar fanfic #ivar the boneless #crazy ivar #harald finehair #halfdan #ivar x reader #ivar lothbrok #ivar ragnarsson #ivar imagine #dad!harald #ubbe #aslaug #margrethe #ubbe x margrethe #tw: murder #tw: death #tw: gore

[golddaggers]

they strike to kill, and you know i will

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

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

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

word count: 4k+

xx

It made your blood boil.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You watch her as she regains her consciousness.

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

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

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

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

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

“Fight me.”

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

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

“No.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What the fuck is going on?”

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

“You’re bleeding.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hmm, you think I can’t handle her?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hmm?”

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

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

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

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

“Don’t,” You whisper, fragile.

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y-yeah, gimme’ one more.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can you even stand?”

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

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

“You’re okay, my love?”

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

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

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

“That sounds like a plan.”

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

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

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

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

“Nothing.”

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

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

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

“What will I do with you, bunny?”

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

Laugh spills before he kisses you again.

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

#ubbe #ubbe x margrethe #ubbe fanfiction #ubbe x reader #ubbe lothbrok #ubbe x you #vikings #hvitserk #lagertha #ubbe smut #ubber x reader smut #ubber x you smut #smut

[chronicles-of-red]

So I was rewatching Vikings series, and I stumbled upon amazing moment, when Ragnar Sons finally avenged their father's death with their Great Heathen Army. Inspired by the same, here's what I worked on and recreated the moment.

#Illustration #vikings #bjorn ironside #ubbe x margrethe #bjorn ragnarsson #ubbe ragnarsson #photoshop #netflix #the great heathen army #thegreatheathenarmy #pagan #norse #thor #odin #floki #loki #ragnarokxnextgeneration

[underragingwaves]

#vikings #vikingsedit #vikings history #ubbe ragnarsson #ubbe #margrethe #ubbe x margrethe #urwcreates #ubbedit #prayer circle for my sanity pls #yes the coloring of the middle gifs is a little diff but it's not like anyone's gonna care lol #you're all very welcome I'm suffering very hard and making it everyone's problem

[we-are-only-halfway-home93]

Come and Lay the Roses 34- Lots to Answer For- [Ivar x OC]

Summary: The rat is caught in a trap.

Characters: Ivar x OC, Bjorn x Torvi, Ubbe x Margrethe, Sigurd x OC, Hvitserk x Thora, Ragnar, Lagertha

Warnings: arranged marriage, violence, sex, torture, language, mentions of rape/sexual assault

Ch. 33

AN: I actually wrote most of this chapter when I first came up with the idea for this story so I didn't have to add much to complete it. Enjoy!

“Only trust thyself, and another shall not betray thee.”

~ William Penn

It was late, or early depending on who you ask, when Björn called the men together. Ivar was the only one who hadn’t been sleeping. 

The fire was roaring and the whiskey was flowing when Björn entered the office. Ivar was standing back by the windows, his tension palpable to them all. They were eager to hear what Björn had learned. 

Björn cleared his throat before unrolling a blueprint. “Ecbert owns three buildings on the south side of the dockyards. One of them is used for imports and exports. He uses it strictly for holding property that he plans to ship out of the country. Floki did recon all day yesterday and said nothing but tobacco and cider left that building.

“The second building is storage. All large personal property is kept there. Large-scale paintings, vehicles, and collector pieces. Anything he doesn’t have space for at any of his properties sits in that building. Rollo had one of his teams check it out last night and they didn’t find anything that gave off a heat signature.”

Björn took a deep breath and looked across the room at Ivar. The man in question straightened at the eye contact. 

“The third building is heavily guarded.” Björn gestured to the blueprint on the desk. “Four guards walk the perimeter at all times. Two stand watch on the roof. Infrared counts ten heat signatures moving inside at all times.” Björn took a deep breath and seemed to brace himself. “An eleventh heat signature remains unmoving in this,” he pointed to a corner of the blueprint. “Part of the building. After two days of surveillance, it hasn’t moved beyond the confines of that room.

“We can only assume that it’s Aaline.” Björn straightened and crossed his arms over his chest. 

“Assume? What if it’s not?” Ubbe was the only one brave enough to ask the hard questions. Björn nodded. 

“I thought about that. Twice,” He held up two fingers. “Ecbert was observed entering the building. The infrared caught a figure moving to that room, lingering for several minutes before leaving again and that’s when Ecbert left the building. We have to assume Aaline is being held in that room.”

Ragnar nodded and cleared his throat. “So, what’s our plan of action?” Björn smiled. 

“We take two teams to enter on foot. There are only two men on the roof so motion from below will draw them inside. Each team enters from opposite ends. One comes in from the east,” Björn trailed his hand across the east side of the blueprint. “The other comes in through the west.

“The team on the west needs to move quickly. One person,” Björn looked up at Ivar. “will break away from the group and head directly to this room.” He swept his hand across the room where they suspected Aaline was being held. “Ivar, your only job is to secure Aaline.” Ivar’s jaw tensed. 

“This entire mission is designed to get her out safely and quickly. Your only concern is getting her out unharmed. Revenge can come later. Do you understand?” Björn’s tone was calm but his meaning was clear. 

Ivar kept his glare on Björn for one tense minute before looking away. Björn took it for the submission it was and moved on. “As soon as we get the all-clear from Ivar that Aaline is out of the building, we’ll clear out the same way we came.”

He looked up at the grim faces of his brothers. “Aaline is the priority. We’re moving in to retrieve her and nothing else. Once she’s clear, we leave like we were never even there in the first place. Everything else will come later.”

Ragnar nodded. “I approve of this plan.” He leaned back and lowered himself into his chair, steepling his fingers. “Now, who is my rat?”

None of the sons looked at him. It wasn’t a surprise that they had kept their focus on Aaline. She had always been the priority. It was a surprise when Ivar cleared his throat and stepped forward. 

“Aethelwulf had a loose tongue before his death. Told me he’d give me information if I let him live.” Ivar shrugged when Ragnar raised his brows. “He informed me that Freydis had been stalking me and Aaline.” Ivar sneered as Freydis’s name passed his lips. “He told me that she was the one who told Ecbert to take Aaline.”

Ivar met his father’s eyes. Ragnar knew then that he’d made a mistake keeping Freydis on their payroll but he never thought the girl had the backbone to turn against him. He’d never underestimate another employee again.

He leaned back in his chair and looked up at Hvitserk. “Bring her here.” Hvitserk nodded and he and Ubbe made a quick exit.  

.

Ivar turned when the door opened. Hvitserk ushered Freydis into the room, giving Ivar a firm look, and closed the door, shutting him and Freydis inside the room, alone.

Ivar smiled at her, his face giving nothing away of his intentions. Freydis smiled demurely back and stepped towards him until she was in front of him. “Hello, Ivar. Hvitserk said you wanted to speak to me.” 

Ivar hummed and brought his hands up to her face, stroking his thumbs over her cheekbones. 

Looking at her now, he couldn’t find what used to draw him in. Her eyes were dull, absent of any life she used to have. The smile on her face looked painted on as if she’d been drawn by the hands of an artist who had never seen a true smile of happiness. It didn’t reach her eyes. He could see the gears turning behind them, calculating her plan. 

“My wife is missing, has been for nearly a week.” Freydis tilted her head back as Ivar continued to stroke her cheeks. Her eyes were closed as he lulled her into a false peace. “Someone told Ecbert where to find her. Someone betrayed me.” She opened her eyes slowly, blinking as she focused. 

She kept her gaze locked on his as he searched her eyes. She was either stupid or delusional if she believed that he wouldn’t retaliate. “Are you going to deny it?” He whispered. She tilted her head up towards him and ran her hands up his chest. “No. I told them where to find her.” She pressed forward and touched her lips to his. He didn’t react.  

She pulled back and stroked his face, her eyes calm and content. “Where is he keeping her?” He asked. She was truly delusional if she answered him.  She smiled up at him and bumped her nose against his. “One of his warehouses near his home. He goes there every day to check on her.” Ivar was genuinely surprised that she answered. He underestimated her obsession with him. Never again.

Ivar smiled at her, betraying nothing. He pressed his hands against her hips, turning her back to him. Freydis leaned against him and hummed in satisfaction. Ivar slowly pulled the belt from his slacks, winding it around his hands. “I loved you once, Freydis. I never thought I could love another again after you betrayed me.” He brought his hands up over her head and draped the belt around her throat. 

“I must thank you, Freydis.” He whispered tenderly against the shell of her ear, stroking his fingers up the column of her neck. “Because of you, I know what it really is to love and be loved.” 

He pulled the belt tight around her throat and fell back, landing hard on the ground in front of the desk. Freydis gasped and struggled against him, her legs kicking uselessly and her hands coming back to grab at his face. Ivar turned his head away from her and tightened his hold on his belt.

Her struggles became weaker and weaker as the oxygen flow to her brain was cut off. Ivar maintained his hold on her until she stopped moving and well after that. 

He sat up, pushing Freydis away from him. He stood up slowly, the ache in his hips more pronounced than normal. He took a deep breath and pushed the door open. His brothers stood on the other side and they turned to him at once. 

He breathed heavily before shuffling forward, his gait slow and stuttered. He wrapped his hands around the banister and sighed. “She’s in the warehouse. He goes there every day to ‘check’ on her.” 

Ivar turned to his brothers then, his gaze passing over Freydis’ body with little care. “First, we get rid of the body.” Björn glanced inside the office and grunted. “Then, we save my wife.”

@dreamlesswonder86 @youbloodymadgenius @inforapound @bcarolinablr @funmadnessandbadassvikings @jay-bel @feyrearcheron44 @londongal2810 @khiraeth @didiintheblog @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @xbellaxcarolinax @shannygoatgruff @kingniazx @revolution-starter @0hsappho @love-all-things-writing

#ivar x oc #ivar the boneless #ivar lothbrok #bjorn x torvi #bjorn lothbrok #ubbe x margrethe #sigurd x oc #sigurd lothbrok #sigurd snake in the eye #hvitserk x thora #hvitserk lothbrok #ragnar lothbrok #ragnar #lagertha #vikings #mafia au #modern au #crime au #arranged marriage #come and lay the roses

[a-smile-hides]

"You think I am mad. And what is wrong with that?"

REMBERING THE LOST - MARGRETHE

#vikings #vikings quotes #vikings gifs #remembering the lost #in memoriam #vikings margrethe #margrethe #ubbe x margrethe #hvitserk x margrethe #sigurd x margrethe #ivar x margrethe #ubbe ragnarsson #sigurd snake in the eye #hvitserk ragnarsson #ivar ragnarsson #ivar the boneless #ASHedits

[bjornswoman]

Enemy's cruelty

Author's note: Hello, I know that I've been away for a long time and I'm sorry for that but I needed some time away. Recently I came back in the app and realised that I never posted this part so this is my way to apologise for being inactive for so long. I hope you will enjoy this.

Pairing: Ubbe x Reader.

Genre: Mini!series, drama, angst, slight romance.

Summary: You are planning to leave Ubbe after the news you received.

Warnings: Violence (emotional and physical), mentions of strangulation, mentions of marriage and strong language.

My enemy and me masterlist | Nemesis's wish |

History had always had this odd tendency repeating itself.

The first one was Ragnar Lothbrok. He cheated on his wife with princess Aslaug – Ubbe's mother – and she showed up on his doorstep with child – his child. Lagertha had no choice but to leave him. After all, that should be the actions of everyone who had a little bit of dignity left in them.

History is the greatest tutor. It taught you that being a great man, doesn't have to mean that you are an equally great husband.

The sons of Ragnar had a long legacy behind them from the past coming from their father and from the future because they were destined to score great achievements matching their father's reputation or even overcoming him. Though they were famous about their battle and political exploits, when it came to their intimate relationships things were completely the opposite. All their glory were coming in contrast to the infamous rumours surrounding them.

To be honest, the loyal husband didn't exist – or it was extremely rare to exist among them. It was a common secret that they had their affairs in the lands they were raiding, but it was only because they wanted someone to warm their bed for some nights before they come back to their families.

You had never cared about Ubbe's affairs. In fact, you wished something like that happened because you wanted to be free away from this who you hated passionately. But never guessed that the day your wish came true would come. Also, you would never believe that you could feel any other feeling than hate or disgust or anything bad about this awful man.

This was the worst thing that could happen and it did happen at the worst time possible. Ubbe and you had started developing weird feeling for each other – but probably it happened for the best. You were only in the beginning of feeling less abhorrence about the other person and luckily you were back on same terms before you would disappear from Kattegat for good.

Thinking about taking your child and walking away made your heart clench in your chest. You didn't want young Ragnar to grow up apart from Ubbe. You wanted them close, but you couldn't keep them close anymore. You couldn't stay and be more humiliated than before. It wasn't right neither for you nor for your son.

You knew you had to leave immediately and you would when the boy would recover from the flue. He was better the past three days – the fever was almost gone.

The same as Ubbe. Ubbe was barely around. You two couldn't stand each other in the same house. As you were informed by Torvi, he was having restless nights at Great Hall in the company of his brothers.

He wasn't seeing Margrethe anymore.

He barely talked to her.

He didn't talk at all to you.

You didn't talk at all to him.

The only moments his tired hoarse voice made it in your ears were when he was talking to your son, but even then you didn't want to hear him at all. His voice was irritating you even more than before.

You didn't want him around, but you couldn't keep him apart from his son – not when you were about to take him away from him in a matter of days.

You were trying not to think – especially not for him and not when he was around. It was even worse thinking about him and sensing his presence being in the same place as you were.

It was one of those moments, Ragnar was laying on his father's lap and was listening carefully to the stories Ubbe was telling him about his father and the cities they had raided. Ubbe was speaking about his family's legacy proudly and your son was looking at him magnetized. It felt like he was hanging from each word coming out of his mouth.

You dared to dream about a total different life for a damned second, but you erased that bloody thought from your mind the following one. There couldn't be any other alternative life that Ubbe and you could live happily married with Ragnar. You were meant to be at each others throat.

You turned around and pretended to clean your already cleaned house because you didn't want to look at him anymore. You didn't even want to breathe the same air as him.

It was all back to normal – you were back to hate him. The only difference was that after all these events you hated yourself more than you hated him. You were at fault more than he was because you let your guards down. Even for a little amount of time you let yourself change your feelings. It wasn't a wasn't a great change but still it was enough to get hurt.

Hopefully, you wouldn't get to be around him anymore if everything worked according to your plan. You didn't really like the idea of Ragnar growing up without his father, but you couldn't stay. You had been enough humiliated so far because of him and his mistress.

You would have left sooner if it hadn't been for your sick son, but he was getting better now. If your plan worked right, you would be away from this place in two nights from this moment. You would grab your son and leave at dawn before the any fisherman or merchant saw you. You had even paid some fisherman a great amount of gold to let you sail on his boat in the nearest town and there you would find your way alone.

Your mind was so absorbed in your thought about your escape plan that you didn't notice Ubbe and your son moving from the bed. Ubbe stood up and had the child on his lap before placing him inside his crib. After that he came behind you, standing there uncomfortably without saying a word. When, in fact, Ubbe wanted to say something – anything.

You almost startled when you faced him so close to you, but you didn't do any action that would let him notice. It had felt so long since the last time you were facing each other this close – the last time you had fought about his child with that girl. This time didn't feel any different.

You were standing facing each other without speaking, but there were so many unsaid things between you. So much tension that both of you couldn't unsee the fact that it existed.

Before, in moments like that – when you were staring at each other – you were throwing blades at each other. It felt like a whole single combat between the two of you. The first to take his eyes away from the other was the one who lost the battle. But this time, it didn't feel like it.

The anger and hatred were participating as any other time. Only now, another emotion was there too, in addition with the other two. It felt like guilt, coming from both sides for different reasons.

Though Ubbe was the one to blame for the best part of this situation they were put into. It would be only fair to let her go without any word and he knew it himself deep in his heart, but it was hard to accept it – to deal with it. They weren't in the best of terms ever – in fact not even close to good ones – but she had never left or had done anything to humiliate him in public. Their personal matters were kept to themselves within the walls of this house – though it was a common secret that they weren't getting along. Apart from that they kept themselves civil in public and in front of his family even though they knew everything about them.

Ubbe cleared his throat first. He had been wanting to say something since the moment he set his foot in the house, but couldn't form a word. But he knew that he couldn't keep himself from speaking. He had to say something – it felt now or never. Ubbe wanted to clear his position, to apologize. He knew that you wouldn't let him do so.

You were a proud woman – he knew it as he knew that you wouldn't let him say anything about the matter that would be keep things civil between you. In any case, this would end up bad, like it always did. You would fight again and this time it might be worse than the other times because this time you had something really serious to argue about.

"The child seems better." This was the only thing Ubbe managed to say.

You rolled your eyes at his statement and felt your blood boiling. It felt like he was in disbelief that you managed to take good care of your son and he was healthy all over again. You were mad at him for all the other situation with the slave girl, but him undermining you was worse than cheating.

"Did you believe that he wouldn't?" You tone was harsh and bitter. At the sound of it, Ubbe's expression changed. His features hardened and his jaw was clenched. The battle had started once more – like any other time.

"Would you blame me for that? It isn't like you are the most caring person around." His tone was matching to your own which enraged you even more than before. You had all rights of Midgard to be angry and he was trying to turn it to you being a bad mother because you were mean to him.

It wasn't like you didn't know it – you knew that your actions towards him wasn't kind but the opposite. But you weren't this way to your son. Ragnar the Younger was your only comfort, your only companion. The person who made you like your life when you hated it more than ever.

Your love for him was sincere. How could it now be, he was your only child even though he was also the son of your nemesis you couldn't feel any less love for the person who grew inside your body and got out of it. He was yours and you adored him.

"But your whore is, right?" You felt like you were going to strangle him to death with your bare hands. After your words, you didn't even wait for an answer of his or any movement, you were mad and you wanted to take it out of you without pressing your hands on his throat. You had never did something like that – you had slapped him, yes, but your hands never went further than that. "If you believe that she is, you are stupid enough. I have learned not to underestimate any rival of mine and I certainly haven't underestimated you or her. How could I underestimate a slave girl? Slave girls can do anything to get them out of the low position they are and be in power and when they manage to free themselves, they want more and more." A fire was dancing inside the color of your eyes. You were mad and you couldn't keep the words from getting out – you didn't want to keep them.

Ubbe didn't get to say anything. His eyes were glaring directly inside your own burning eyes – his gaze was no different than yours. He didn't answer and you after a short breath you started again with the poisonous words.

"It's so easy to notice that she is a gold digger after your status. Just by looking at the way she has all of you – the sons of the mighty Ragnar Lothbrok – wrapped around her little finger you can say it. You fools have sincere and true feelings for her – how pathetic. But I won't blame you, you can't choose who your heart belonges – unfortunately. Just don't ever judge me again. You can't because you don't me." One long breath again. Your eyes always on his – sign of you believing every word that came out of your mouth. Ubbe was listening to you, preparing for his own little speech.

"I won't deny that I am a cruel woman – I know I can be harsh and bitter, but that's how I grew up. It wasn't easy for me either. I am not a thrall, but all my life it felt like I was. My fate – it seems – is controlled by men, treating me like an object they can use to secure some kind of alliance or a womb that's only use is to produce heirs. But I am a woman – a person." You almost tear up, but before even your tear came make it further than your eye you manage to wipe it away.

When you finished, Ubbe was running his hand through hair, ready to speak himself.

"You speak a lot without really knowing what you are saying – yet your words is your truth. I am not saying that life was kind to you – I can't know what has happened to you before I met you, I can only assume. My life hasn't been kind as well. Everyone is expecting extraordinary things from me because of my father – a father that was never there for me. Most of my life I've been only with my mother – who was never really there – and my brother – Bjorn. If it wasn't for him, I probably wouldn't be the man I am." Ubbe was starting calmly and yet so intensely.

"As for Margrethe, don't judge her you don't know her the way me or my siblings do. The problem is between us – it had always been there. We are the people to blame about the tragedies of our lives. You and I have made mistakes and the worst of them all was our lack of interest in hearing to each other. You had problems and I had mine when we married and we let those problem tear us apart. Both of us haven't been the ideal person for the other, but here we other stuck with each other having a conversation that had to be made a long time ago.

"We fucked up our lives with our bare hands and now after all this time of failing ourselves we are called to deal with the consequences."

"You fucked up our lives big time." Your words came out in the most selfish way possible when his own were spoken wisely and reasonably. That was Ubbe people knew and loved.

"Me, alone? As if you are a saint." His bitterness was back, but it wasn't enough to make you stop. You were mad at him.

Yes, his words were right. You were the authors of your destruction and downfall, but his doing – his intimate relationship with her and the aftermath of it, their child – was the worst part of it and was his own doing. He had tore you apart and signed your end. He couldn't say it was both your doing. Well, partially it was, but Ubbe was the one to take the most of the credit about it.

"I am not, but I wasn't the one who humiliated you by sleeping and impregnating a thrall. Be the reasonable man you claim you are and accept the amount of the blame you have, along with the consequences that follow." You spoke calmer than before and took first your eyes away from his. You moved away from him to the crib of your son to check on him. He was asleep, luckily you were calmer than usual and he was able to take his nap.

"This incident is just the tip of the iceberg. We have equal amount of blame for the rift in our marriage." He continued behind you in a tired tone of voice.

Your eyes moved away from the small form of your son and moved to the much larger one of Ubbe. You rolled your eyes once more frustrated. You were done by this. You knew what you had to do to stop all these arguments and drama – you were going to leave just a couple of days had left for you to endure Kattegat and Ubbe.

"Which marriage are you talking about? There's no marriage. You destroyed that." You weren't yelling – just scoffing. But your words, you damn well that wasn't the entire truth. It would be the whole truth if you said that you both destroyed your marriage with your foolish actions.

Your scoffing made Ubbe even more than he was. He moved towards the table and sat down on one of the wooden chairs. You stayed at your former position. You were standing close to your son's crib in front of him.

"You are my wife and that won't change even though both of us would like that." Harsh and calm tone, enough to make your blood boiling for once more. Your lips pursed in a thin line and your jaw clenched.

"Yeah, I forgot you would love to free her and then marry her." Your own tone was an ironic one when you referred to her.

"I intend to marry her regardless."

Your eyes turned to meet his – his blue ones were already gazing you. It was one of those rare moments he caught off guard. For a moment or so you thought that you misheard him, but the fucking expression on his face told you otherwise – told you that you heard clearly his words.

"What?" Your voice wasn't louder than a whisper.

"I'll take her as a second wife of mine. I would tell you under different circumstances, but I have to realize that there would never be ideal or even better circumstances between us. So, yes, Margrethe will be my wife and she will give birth to my child." The whole time Ubbe was speaking, his eyes were studying you – your eyes, your expressions, everything.

You managed to take a couple of steps away from the crib. You couldn't even form a word, because you couldn't process his words.

"Your first and only wife you meant to say."

"You are my first wife."

"I am not your wife anymore."

Your whole conversation was happening – surprisingly – in the most civil way possible. No bitterness, not poisonous words, nothing. The first and hopefully the last time.

"This conversation goes nowhere. You are way too stubborn to understand a couple of things and I have a tone of fucking stuff to deal with. If you decide to calm down before the marriage, good. If not, then I'll take matters in my own hands the way I know." Ubbe stood up from the chair and moved towards you not too close, but not far enough.

"Don't do anything impulsive for your sake."

Low voice, quite threatening and eyes gazing deep in your soul. But you would never let him notice that. You were eyeing him the same way – you would never back down to none especially him.

"I am not afraid of you." Your voice was challenging and for the first time after days a vicious smirk formed on his face.

Ubbe leaned towards you, his hot breath fell on your neck. He took a sip of your scent before any word came out of mouth.

"Maybe not at the moment, but you will be." His voice was soft – softer than ever. Yet that was definitely a threat.

You didn't get to answer to that because he stormed out of the house, leaving you behind confused and angry – definitely not afraid.

The days felt insufferable. Each was another torment for you. You couldn't even step out of the door of your house, everyone was pointing their fingers at you, gossiping about your husband's offspring with the slave girl. They were mocking you – something that you proud self couldn't accept. You glared at them but that wasn't enough to restore your dignity. The only thing that would help your reputation would be to leave him for good and never ever step a foot on this damned grounds.

And the big was finally there. You were only an hour away from your freedom, but your heart was aching. It felt wrong and apart from this another strange feeling were eating you up alive. You felt like you shouldn't leave with your son, but this wasn't an option. You were out of options indeed at the end of the day.

You didn't bother to wake up Ragnar. You wrapped him in a thick fur and put your own black cloak on.

The sheet of snow on the ground and the roofs of the houses was thick. It was very cold this time of the night out there. You shouldn't be out, but you had to make it in the dock and leave to save any little dignity you had left after your husband's achievements.

You walked like a shadow in the way that led on the dock. Your weird feeling was getting stronger and stronger at each step you took towards the directions you wanted. It felt like your heart was trying to warn you not to go – not to leave Ubbe – but your mind was telling you otherwise. You had to leave, to get in that boat and move away from Kattegat.

Eventually, you made it on your destination and took off the hood of your cloak, but something felt off. Things didn't go as you planned them to.

Two men were standing in front of the dock and there wasn't any boat close enough. Moreover, the fisherman you had paid to help you was nowhere to be found. You were watching them like a hawk, trying to study them and find to get away somehow. There was no way back to Kattegat.

You turned around to step back – not to your house – to the forest. There should be a way to escape from the forest. However, when you did turned around, your eyes widened when you spotted Ubbe eyeing you with two men standing next him. Both of them were his brothers – Bjorn and Hvitserk. You couldn't read his face, but you knew by heart that he was angry and tried to hide it under this mixed expression.

Before you even thought about anything to say, Ubbe had already started walking in your direction. You couldn't really anything – you didn't need to. Both of you knew that this was the only right thing to do for the sake of your dignity, but Ubbe would never let you slip away in the middle of the night with his son on hands. Once Lagertha had managed to leave his father and Bjorn had gone her. Ubbe couldn't let you take his eldest away. He couldn't bear the thought of his boy growing away from him.

"I told you not to do anything impulsive, but per usual you didn't listen to me." Ubbe whispered to you when he was just a breath away from you. His hands wrapped around your son's little body and pulled away from your hands violently, waking him up by the way he pulled him.

The boy started crying and you yelling.

"Don't touch him! Give him to me! Ubbe!" You were yelling at him as he was walking at the other way around towards his brothers. You tried to reach him and take your son back, but the two men you saw earlier grabbed you by force by both of your arm and didn't let you approach. You were hitting them and were trying to break free but they were far more stronger than you. "No! No! No! You can't do that to me, Ubbe! NO!" You were yelling crying. Your son was crying as well on Hvitserk's lap. You sank on your knees, still trying to break free and reach your son. "You are a monster! I fucking hate you!"

Hvitserk was trying to calm down your son, but he couldn't unsee your state.

"Ubbe, maybe you should—" Hvitserk tried to reason with him, but Ubbe stopped him using both words and movements of his hands.

"Don't get involved in that, Hvitserk. This is between me and my wife." Ubbe's voice was stern as his steps were bringing him closer to your wrecked form.

"Your former wife. Former." You spitted as he was kneeling in front of you. He clicked his tongue inside his mouth when he heard you.

Swiftly his hand pulled your face by your chin and your eyes met – yours were burning full in tears and his had gone darker, they had the darkest shade of blue you had ever seen. Shortly after your eyes met, his hand moved from your chin to your throat. It wrapped around your neck so firmly that you almost couldn't breathe, but you didn't care at this point. The worst part of this situation you were into was your son's crying – it broke your heart. You wanted to reach him and caress him, sing to him and calm him down.

"You are my wife. Mine. Like it or not this is the way." Ubbe was speaking in hoarse and stern tone all the time. He was imposing and serious. "Now you have two options here and that's because I am a generous person. If it was for another man, you wouldn't have the option to see your son again, because you would be dead or worse." He left your throat and ordered his men to help you stand. At first you resisted, but eventually you did as he said. Ubbe stood up as well and for once more you were facing each other.

"Your first option is to leave. You are free to go where ever you like away from Kattegat – away from me." He started say and motioned to his men to set you free – something they did instantly.

You frowned you couldn't believe your ears. There has to be something there he wasn't going to let you leave just like that – not after all this chaos.

"But my son stays here. You will leave and never lay a foot on Kattegat. You will never see him again."

At the sound of this, you felt your heart clenching. It was like he had stabbed you with his knife directly in your heart and then ripped it out of your body. You couldn't leave your son behind and never see him again.

"No, I can't do that! You can't do that!" You cried and gazed only at your son, but Ubbe's hand wrapped around your jaw tightly and forced you to look at him, when you tried to look back at your son he didn't let you. He kept your face stable at your former position.

After your words, Ubbe smirked.

"So this leaves us with the second option. You will stay here, be my wife – my loyal wife – and you will move in the Great Hall with me. You will accept my marriage with Margrethe and give us your blessing. Also, you will never try to harm her or my child or else you will never see Ragnar the Younger again. That's a promise." He continued and left your face. After that, he moved back to his brothers who were watching the whole scene without talking after Hvitserk's attempt to reason with him. "I'll give you a second to think about your options. Think about it well."

Ubbe took Ragnar on his hands trying to calm him down himself, but he couldn't – Ragnar was still crying.

You approached them – tears were falling like waterfalls from your eyes – and opened your hands for Ragnar. Ubbe didn't give him to you even after he saw the boy's hands lifting towards you – he wanted you.

"You won't get to touch my son unless you choose correctly."

Before you mumble your answer, you wiped your tears from your soaking cheeks.

"Everything will happen as you wish. We will go to the Great Hall and I'll give you my blessing for your marriage. I'll take care of your wife and your child. Just give me my son. Please Ubbe." You hadn't felt more humiliated than this moment ever again. Even when you learned about the slave girl and her child, you didn't feel like this.

He let you have your son. When he brought him on your hands, you let your tears fall freely. You closed your eyes and smelled his scent. After that, you placed a long kiss on his forehead.

"He is my son and don't you dare think of doing something like this again, because next time I won't be this generous to you." Ubbe whispered to you and you didn't answer.

As long as you had Ragnar on your hands, you didn't care about anything else. Neither your dignity nor who Ubbe slept with. You were defeated for good. You had lost the war of your life. Your life had no meaning apart from your son. You were nothing more than a mother. Ragnar was all that had left in your life and you would give it to protect him – or end with the worst way possible whoever dared to harm him.

The following day you moved in the Great Hall, earning scoffing and mocking looks from the people in it – even the queen had a weird look on her face like she was questioning the choices you had made and your approval for Ubbe's second marriage with a thrall. The people who knew were the only ones who showed quite the sympathy, but still they were on Ubbe's side. You had no allies in this place. You were on your own as you had always been.

"Welcome in the Great Hall." The queen was the one to welcome you first. You didn't even pretend that you were glad about it, didn't even bother to force a fake smile on your face.

"It's good to have you here. Maybe you could help us with the preparations of the wedding." Margrethe was the one to speak next. She approached you smiling. Your gaze met the one of Ubbe's who was already on you, expecting your answer to his bride. You knew better than to cause a scene.

"Sure. It would be nice." You spoke, earning the laughter and mockery of Ivar. You couldn't blame him though. If it wasn't for Ragnar, you would scoff at yourself for your foolishness.

The day of the wedding was even worse than anything you had to endure so far. Maybe that was the worst day of your life and not the day of your own wedding to him. This day and the day you tried to escape with your son had been marked on your memory as the worst day of your life – you couldn't really choose which one had been worse than the one. You only knew that on those days you had been humiliated and violated in the worst ways possible.

You used to be a proud woman – now you were the exact opposite of that. You were dishonoured. You felt small and vulnerable in public, but kept trying to not break in front of the prying eyes. They had disgrace your honor, but you would never let them see how much it affected you.

You wore one of your finest dresses and put on your best of efforts to keep forcing fake smiles on your face. Your hair was braided on a tight bun. The dress you wore was black unlike the bride's white.

You were the first one to walk down the aisle and notice everyone. It was an open wedding – all Kattegat participated to confess your public humiliation, but you kept your forced smile there and waited for them. Ubbe and Margrethe followed shortly after you.

Everything was blurry for you until the Gothi asked who would give the bride to her husband. You forced a smile and without a lot words you gave her the ring made of gold Ubbe had picked for her. Then, the priestess blessed the three of you with the blessed blood of the sacrifice and it was you who had to give your bless about their union next, before the Gothi would bless the ring and Ubbe would put it on her finger.

That was the most difficult part of it. You weren't hurt about the fact they were getting married – you couldn't be. Ubbe had treated you the way your father did and that was enough to had the same feelings for him as you had for your father – to despise him. They treated you like one of their possessions, like an object. You wantes to believe that even the person he were towards you – Ubbe was different from him. But eventually they were all the same.

Margrethe lifted her hands which were inside a wreath and you touched it. You wanted to destroyed the moment your hands touched it, but you didn't do that. Instead, you freed her hands from and let it slip on the floor.

"You are free." You looked at her with your fake smile and tears threatening your eyes. Tears that you would never let them fall. You were stronger than that. Apart from relying on your own strength, you had asked Frigg herself to help you endure this. "Go, marry my husband... with my blessing." You paused for the shortest of breaths and touched your hands with Ubbe's and Margrethe's. After that you were enough not to remember the rest of the ceremony.

A feast came after this parody of a wedding. You were seated on the right side of Ubbe and Margrethe on the left. You didn't really payed attention to the conversations in the Hall, neither tried to start one. You were seated on your chair drinking ale from a curved horn.

You were quiet until Lagertha – or Earl Ingstad – approached and sat down in the empty chair next to yours. You smiled politely at her and fake. By the look on her face you were sure that she could say whether or not that smile was sincere. She knows more than people would like to.

"I have a question for you, though I know the answer myself." She started and got all of your attention on her.

"What would that question be?"

"Why did you blessed this union? Why did you stay?" Her voice was soft along, but her gaze sharp. She was studying you – reading your mind. "You and I have more in common that we would like. Once I was in your place as well. I know the feeling."

You took a long sip from your drink and worked on your answer for some seconds. You weren't going to say the truth – you weren't going to mention anything about that night. You wouldn't like to be called a coward, but better a coward than a childless mother. After all, you were there because of Ragnar the Younger, not because of Ubbe.

"Not all of us are as strong as you."

Lagertha seemed pleased by the way you chose to answer. Her hand reached for yours and she leaned closer to you. Her voice was softer than a whisper – you barely heard her – and when her words made it in your ears you were surprised.

"Yes, because you are stronger. No woman would let herself be disgraced in such way because of the love for her child. I – I didn't. When I left Ragnar, Bjorn didn't choose to come along, but eventually changed his mind. A son should be close to his father – yes – but no mother must be away from her child." Her words made your heart clench. As one mother to another she could understand your agony and pain for your only child.

A true smile formed on your face and you gave it to her, before she retreat to her original seat.

The rest of your night went by the same way it did before Lagertha showed up. Ivar would leave his offensive remarks which didn't really bother you anymore. Hvitserk wouldn't be in his usual mood due to this marriage – something like yourself. Sigurd didn't really seem offended or affected by Ubbe's choice to marry the girl. Bjorn was Bjorn – he was his usual self. After all he was the only one who never had or seeked any kind of relationship with her.

When you retreated to your chamber, you found Ubbe having Ragnar on his lap, talking to him about one more story of his family's saga. When he spotted you, he left the chair he was sitting and came closer to you, giving you the child.

"You were unexpected today." Ubbe noted and you almost let a bitter chuckle leave your mouth.

"I didn't have a choice." You spoke, looking only at your son. The only time you decided to look at him was to ask him about something. "And why are you here, anyway? Isn't your wedding night? Shouldn't you be with your new wife?" There were more than a question – more than you intended to ask – but it came out naturally.

Ubbe decided to avoid the answer you gave him after his remark and focused on your questions.

"I wanted to see my son." He said casually tickling with one of his hands your boy, making him jiggling and laughing. You smiled at the sound of his angelic laughter. "And you." This time his voice was much softer than any other time. Your eyes met and you tried to focus back on your son and not on the fast rate of your heartbeat.

"Ragnar is fine, I am fine. Go to your wife." You said quickly turning your back.

You were walking through the room, caressing your son's back. That was one of your desperate attempts to put him to sleep. He was upset the nights away from home – your former home. He wasn't used here and he would refuse to go to sleep.

"You are also my wife."

You sighed harshly when he reminded you – like you could forget when he was around all the time. Or you could forget when you were giving your blessing to wed another. Or when he forced you to stay. Or—

A soft knock on your door was enough to stop all your thoughts and prevent you from giving him any answer. Ubbe opened the door himself and revealed Hvitserk.

"Sorry to interrupt you." He spoke looking at you and you smiled at him.

"You don't. Ubbe was just leaving."

"Yeah, that was exactly the reason I came. We are expecting you. Don't be late." He whispered to his brother, but not low enough for you not to hear them. You didn't even want to think about the topic of their conversation, but you could imagine – much to your displeasure. Your mind was getting there not following your attempts not to. After these words from brother to brother, Hvitserk turned to apologetically. "Sorry again."

"Goodnight." You muttered and he winked at you. Ubbe closed the door, but not before he overheard your whisper to yourself. "I suppose that it will indeed be a good night." You laughed to yourself and he did the same as he closed the door behind his brother.

"We—" Ubbe started saying awkwardly. A hand was at the back of his head, scratching him skin. You stopped him, before he could even form a second word.

"No need to tell me anything. It's your personal life." You told him quickly, raising one of your hands – the one which wasn't holding the child – to stop him.

"You are part of my personal life." His voice was hoarse and calm for once more. As he was speaking, he was moving towards you for once more.

"I am part of your chores. I suppose." You smiled. One more real smile that evening. He smiled as well.

"No. Do you want one truth?" Ubbe was whispering now. He had stopped right in front of you. Your son was the only thing who kept you apart.

"Only one?" You kept whispering as he did.

Both of you were smiling.

"Just one."

"Go ahead, say it. I promise I won't tell a soul."

"Good. Coming back to you had always been my top priority since we met."

Your whole conversation was made of whispers and smiles – like a sacred prayer. One that was so sacred and holy that shouldn't be heard from the other. Your first and only silent one without yelling or anything loud.

You hadn't noticed how close to each you were standing until you stopped talking. All this closeness felt uncomfortable.

You took your eyes off of him and looked at your son – he was asleep. You smiled at the sight.

"He is asleep." You told Ubbe softly enough not to wake the boy.

"Yeah – um – I should probably get going." He was saying awkwardly as you were placing your son inside his crib.

"Yes, I think you should. Goodnight." You muttered and smiled uncomfortably at him.

Ubbe took a few steps back and mouthed a rushed "goodnight" before he was out of your door.

You felt yourself smiling at the memory of your previous conversation, the most real in all this time you knew each other. The only one which didn't end up in a fight or happened within one. The most calm and yet the most intensive you had.

If only this was the beginning and nothing had happened before that.

You moved you head in an attempt to remove these thoughts. Ubbe was in Margrethe's chamber with Hvitserk celebrating their first night as a wed couple and before he had forced to stay in Kattegat and suffer under the roof of the Great Hall.

Things wouldn't change with a couple of romantic thoughts. After all, any time you had one of those things had the tendency to become even more wild between Ubbe and yourself. As far as you stayed in the comfort of your chamber – away from everyone and their drama – you were safe.

Your child was the only person you needed around and Ubbe was the opposite – the person you definitely hated to have around. He and his new wife were the people you wanted to avoid and you were going to try.

Tag list: @bruher, @utterlyhopeful-fics, @hypocritic-trash-baby, @fofisstilinski, @brianochka, @thelirofnorthlands, @malamistka

#vikings ubbe #ubbe imagine #ubbe ragnarsson #ubbe lothbrok #ubbe #ubbe x reader #vikings au #vikings x reader #vikings imagine #vikings fic

[geeky-introvert]

I Wish I Could Quit You . Modern Hvitserk X Divorced OC

Summary: Erica left her husband, Hvitserk, while pregnant after having enough of putting up with his cheating habits. A couple of years pass and they have shared custody over their son. He is with her parents for the weekend and decides to go out with a friend, but of course her past had to follow ….One-shot.

Authors note: This was part from a short request I did a long time ago but can’t find it, don’t know if it’s been removed or just lost for good. Anyway I had the draft saved and turned it into something bigger. This might turn into a two part story but I’ll see what people think of this first. Enjoy!

Word count: 2694

Warning: Angst, drinking, cheating and smut.

Tag list: @lisinfleur​ @mdlady​ @didiintheblog​ @alicedopey​ @rekdreams247​​ @mblaqgi​ @oddsnendsfanfics​ @aphnxrising​ @happydaysandersen @therealcalicali @naaladareia @inforapound @captstefanbrandt @waiting4inspiration @tabalugax @p8tn0lish @igetcarriedawaywithyou @laketaj24 @darlingp @tephi101 @youbloodymadgenius​ @lordsexmachine  @wonderlandofsu @alwaysbenhardysgirl @sparklemichele @hecohansen31 @readsalot73 

If anyone else wants to be added to the tag list let me know please.

It was a family dinner that Aslaug had been planning for months. Erica sat and waited at the table for her husband to arrive. She had caught a taxi here since he sent her a text saying he was held up at work and that he’ll meet her there. Hours later and he was still late. Then finally, he arrived, looking rushed and out of breath as he finally joined her at the table.

“Why are you so late?” She was annoyed and disappointed. It was supposed to be a nice evening dinner with his family and he showed up late.

“I’m sorry babe, work is crazy. I promise to make it up to you later.” He smiled before kissing her and acted as if everything was fine. No, it wasn’t fine, not for a long while now.

At that moment nothing mattered anymore. Erica licked up her lips to taste the cherry gloss given from him and got a good sniff from his fruity perfume. He was with her again, Margrethe. Looking at Ubbe she saw the space next to him was empty as well and it was no surprise to her that Margrethe turned up just five minutes later acting innocent and kissed her husband before sitting down beside him.

It wasn’t the first time and she forgave him before but tonight was the last time. She couldn’t continue doing it anymore, pretending to be happy when deep down she was breaking. Erica loved Hvitserk, but he tossed her around like a used rag and not giving two shits about her feelings anymore. All the promises he made he has broken.

As the evening went on she sat silently in her chair and poked at her food. A few people had noticed her mood but didn’t question, not wanting to poke to bear. Hvitserk had tried holding her hand under the table but she moved it out of his grasp. She simply didn’t want to be here anymore, she had enough of his bull shit.

“Erica, what’s wrong with you tonight?” Hvitserk had the nerve to ask, loud enough for others to hear and gaining their attention. He wanted to make a scene, so be it.

“I can’t do this anymore.” She won’t let him walk all over her anymore.

“What are you talking about?”

“Tell me, how was work? Or should I say Margrethe’s cunt?” Nothing could be done to take it back, it was out and everyone heard her.

Hvitserk said nothing at first. No one dared to say anything. All Aslaug wanted was a nice evening with the family and now she was going to ruin that, but she needed to do this in front of everyone, so they knew how much of a shitty husband he was. Ubbe was aware of what was going on but never said or did anything to stop it was his doing as well. Margrethe shifted in her seat feeling uncomfortable, and so she should.

“I-I….Erica-”

“Don’t bother explaining yourself.” She felt my eyes sting with tears and looked up to see everyone staring at her. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I’ve ruined this dinner, haven’t I? Well, how about some good news?” She raised her glass of water in a mocking way and put on a fake smile for them. “I’m pregnant.”

Erica then threw her drink into Hvitserk’s face and stormed out the home without even a goodbye to anyone or giving Hvitserk a chance to react to the sudden news. She hailed a cab and took it back to their shared place where she packed up as much of her things and called her mother to ask if she could stay at her place for a bit. She took the ring off and left it on the counter before heading out of the life she thought would be a dream come true. She was wrong. All she had was yourself and the child growing in her.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Of course it didn’t take long for Hvitserk to track her down but she was done, growing tired of his cheating and lying behavior. She filed for divorce not long after and he knew there was nothing he could do to talk her out of it, but he still wanted shared custody of your child.

She couldn’t prevent that and so agreed.

Nine months later and she gave birth to a healthy boy, naming him Olaf. Her mother was in the room with her, and Hvitserk, because he was the father. Least he wanted to be there as a father, too bad not as a husband.

Erica managed to save enough to get her own place, despite the Lothbrok’s trying to give her money through checks she tore them up, not wanting their money. She had nothing against them but wanted to be independent for her son. Hvitserk did the right thing and gave child support, and that was all she would accept.

It’s been four years now since she divorced Hvitserk. Living as a single mother had honestly been a weight off her shoulder, not having to worry about a husband brought some relief even though she still had to deal with Hvitserk, but she always will since he was the father of their son.

He remarried. A woman named Thora who seemed good for him. She wasn’t happy for him though, she didn’t care what went on in his life or what he did. If he was happy that was all that mattered. Least she was nice to their son though.

As much as she loved being a mother she also missed the freedom. Her parents noticed and offered to take care of Olaf so she could have a night to just do that. A little bird must’ve whispered to her best friend because she was eager to take her out clubbing. Not what she had on mind, she was never to party type, but it was just once and decided to go along.

Her best friend, Elizabeth, or Lizzie as she liked best, had been amazing support for her over the years with her son. They’ve known each other since high school, so they were close.

After leaving Olaf with her parents they then went out hitting the club together. It was loud and crowded but she had a drink and a shot to relax her.

“You know what?” Lizzie shouted over the music. “We need to find you a man!”

“I don’t need a man in my life!” Erica smiled, shaking her head.

“Oh? So a woman?” This caused her to laugh.

“I don’t need anyone, I’m happy being single.”

Coming outside onto the balcony  for some fresh air they talked for a little longer, just catching up, when Lizzie looked over her shoulder and cursed. “For fuck sake.”

Erica narrowed her brows before turning around herself. It was Hvitserk.

“Hey Erica.” He was already so close, no doubt already noticing her before.

“The fuck are you doing here?” Lizzie was very protective of her friend as she stood by her side, hand over hip as she glared at the man who broke her friend’s heart.

“I’m with my brothers.” He shrugged. “It’s not like I’m not allowed here.”

“Well, go back to your brothers.” Lizzie then linked her arm around Erica’s to lead her away but he simply stopped them. Erica didn’t know what to say to him, all she wanted was a fun night, and now he was there, the last person she wanted to see.

“Where’s Olaf?” The tone in his voice made her glare a little.

“Oh, he’s at the strip club across the street. The ladies there will take very good care of him.” Erica found her voice making Lizzie snicker behind her drink. Seeing that Hvitserk was being serious she rolled her eyes then. “He’s staying with my parents tonight. Did you think I was going to leave him home by himself?”

“I didn’t mean that, I’m just curious.”

“I’m sure.” Erica wanted to leave him now.

“Alright, great chat!” Lizzie jumped in again. “Perhaps you should join your brothers again, or perhaps do what you do best and bury your cock in Margrethe, or your new wife, Tora? Whatever her name is, just leave Erica alone.”

She then pulled her away, leaving Hvitserk standing there as they went back in.

“I need a fucking drink.” Erica just wanted to have fun, to let herself go and enjoy the night.

That’s exactly what she did, they both did and ended up pretty drunk together.

Erica felt warm and bubbly as she danced in the middle of the gathered crowds, swaying her hips with the beat of the music and just simply enjoying herself. Lizzie was with her being distracted by a guy who approached her and slowly disappeared in the crowds. Erica didn’t realise this until it was too late and she found herself alone.

She wasn’t surprised, her friend was a party animal and loved sex, but she was a little pissed she would ditch her like that. It was then she decided that she had enough of the club. As fun as it was, she was ready for bed.

However she suddenly felt an arm around her waist and tried to move out from whoever had her. It was a man but she didn’t even know him. She tried pushing him away but he wouldn’t have it and only held her tighter.

But then the grip was gone and out in a blur was Hvitserk as he punched the man, pushing him onto the floor before turning to her and helping her up, taking her out the club.

“Come on, I’ll take you home.”

Right then the shots were settled in her head and everything was a buzz. It had been a while since she’s gone out drinking, she was never a heavy drinker anyway.

Hvitserk hailed a cab and took her home where he helped her inside and into her bedroom.

“I saw Lizzie leave the club with another man.” He suddenly spat. “Some fucking friend she is.”

Erica was pretty drunk but now she was just so tired and felt like sleeping. His words just went in one ear and out the other, there was no care about her friend.

Laying on the bed Hvitserk helped take her shoes off and even brought her some water and snacks on her beside. He needed to make sure she was alright. Seeing her tonight brought old memories back. Yes, he saw her all the time, but it was different this time.

“Do you need anything else?” He asked, caressing his hand over her head.

“No…no.” She sighed. “You didn’t need to bring me home.”

“Yes, I did. I wasn’t just going to leave you like that.” He was so protective.

Sitting up in the bed now she stared into his eyes, searching through them.

“Thank you. I guess I would’ve been in trouble if you didn’t help me.”

“That guy was a dick, got what he deserved.”

Erica didn’t know what she was thinking anymore, but suddenly she leaned forward and kissed him. It was quick before he moved away, looking like he was struggling.

“Erica, you’re drunk…”

“I don’t care.” She kissed him again and this time he fell apart against the heated kiss. Yes, they both knew this shouldn’t happen and yet it was. Erica knew she was drunk but she was also aware of what she was doing. She just needed one night to not care, just once.

She won’t admit it but she missed him, so much. Divorcing him was not an easy choice but it had to happen, she was tired of getting hurt over again by him. Now, she needed to feel him again, she ached for him for too long.

Hvitserk missed her too, he still loved her. When he met Thora he thought he could start over and love another. Yes, he loved Thora, but there will always be a part of him that will love Erica, always, no matter what.

They helped each other remove their clothes while sharing the passionate kiss, touching their naked bodies and laying on the bed together as she reached down to stroke his already throbbing cock. It never took much for him, she remembered this.

He kissed against her neck, trailing over her breasts and lower between her legs where his warm tongue invaded her dripping core making her hips arch up.

Only he could ever make her feel like this. Since divorcing him there hasn’t been anyone else having no interest. Perhaps tonight she could’ve with another, but with Hvitserk wasn’t something she imagined how the evening would turn out.

These thoughts didn’t linger though and just fell in the moment with him, moaning in delight as her fingers tugged at his grown out hair.

Hvitserk lapped eagerly at her sweet nectar, moaning against her. It had been so long and he missed her sweet taste as he eagerly took in as much as he could from her.

After a time he crawled back over her naked body, kissing her before filling her aching depths with his throbbing cock. She moaned lowly, her legs wrapping around his hips as he set a firm pace, not holding back while rocking her body against the bed.

His grunts of pleasure sounded against her neck as her own against his. It had been too long since she’s had a cock in her, she forgot what it felt like and now she wanted more of it.

“Hvitserk.” His name moaned from her lips, his pace becoming more firmer as his hips slapped against her own over again. “Shit, fuck!”

“Fuck! Too soon!” He held back but she just wanted this and quickly let herself go, clenching tightly around his throbbing cock and bringing him over the edge as well.

It was pretty fast but she didn’t care as she was still very satisfied with his seed filling her. Suddenly she blacked out, falling asleep with him on top of her sweaty body.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

The next morning Erica woke up rather early feeling a little hung over. Right away she knew what happened and wished she didn’t dig up something buried, but it was too late now.

Leaving him to sleep she showered and made herself some coffee with some pain killers, not the best mixture but it’s what she wanted. Sitting at the table she drank her coffee as she thought over everything that happened. Looking at her phone she saw Lizzie hadn’t tried to ring her yet. She’ll be having a word with her afterwards.

Then Hvitserk appeared, dressed again and looked over at her at the table.

“Morning.” He said very casually. This was a little awkward.

“Morning.” She said back softly. “I would offer you coffee but….”

“Yeah, I get it.” He didn’t need her to explain. What happened last night was both right and wrong. Despite their feelings, they were divorced and he was married.

She walked him to the door then and he stood out the front before turning to her, looking like he wanted to say so much, just like she wanted to. But that will only dig up more problems.

“Erica….” He licked his lips softly, thinking over his words for a moment. “I’m sorry, for everything. I fucked up our marriage and I’ll carry that regret to my grave. But you’ve given me a beautiful son. I just…I wish….”

“I know.” She whispered as her eyes teared up a little. “It can’t happen again, you’re married now. Thora doesn’t deserve that.”

Nodding he understood and leaned forward quickly to kiss her forehead before hurrying off in the taxi that waited for him. Closing the door she pressed her back against it and slid down to the floor, letting out a soft whimper as her emotions rolled out from her.

As much as she wanted to forget it, she already missed his touch, his smell, his voice, everything about him. Old feelings were back and she wanted to bury it all over again.

What a fucked up position she was in.

#vikings #hvitserk #hvitserk x reader #hvitserk x oc #hvitserk imagine #hvitserk x margrethe #ubbe x margrethe #modern #divorced #angst #smut #drinking #cheating #fandom #fanfiction

[lisinfleur]

Indefensible

Not for your mistakes, nor for your choices. 

But the cowardice that made the actions unacceptable...

#imagine vikings #sister wives #vikings history #ubbe #ubbe ragnarsson #Ubbe Lothbrok #ubbabe #ubbe x margrethe #ubbe imagine #sad ending #coward choices #you could have done better #Not my Ubbe #ubbe's wolfpack #Prince of the Day #POTDUbbe #POTD: Ubbe #prince not so prince...