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collecting-stories · 1 year

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Oceans - Ubbe Ragnarsson

Summary: Ubbe stumbles upon a person in the woods.

A/N: This is really just me trying to get back into writing Vikings cause I've been in the mood to lately.

Vikings Masterlist

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Mud caked the rims of your boots, soles sinking into the grass as you stood at the edge of the wooded area, fingers gripping the hilt of the knife that was secured on your belt. Through the trees, seemingly ignorant of the violent rain that was obscuring a usually clear line of vision, stood a man in armor like you’d never seen before. He was tall, taller than men you were used to, and everything about him was entirely foreign. The snap of a branch under his foot had alerted you to his presence in the woods. You weren’t alone any longer. Like a little kid coming across a wolf on the forest path, you felt frozen in space. Usually quicker on the draw, and on the defense, you were stuck in limbo just waiting. Who would move first? You or this man who looked like he had just startled a deer and was trying to calm it with his immobility.

There were stories, warning tales that floated from village to village the closer you got to the channel about men who came from strange lands and pillaged whatever they could. You were not as unfamiliar with the idea as some of the villagers who repeated the stories told to them. This place was foreign to you too, though perhaps not as foreign as you’d heard their land was. You’d never known anyone who’d gone there and back again or knew anyone who knew anyone who had. It was all speculation, each time growing darker, with sharper teeth and more villainous endeavors. They didn’t just kill, they slaughtered. They didn’t just steal, they burned whole villages to the ground. As if the devil this village feared had possessed them, sent them up from hell to do his bidding on the good, true christians that had stolen you from your home and sold you to the family you lived with for a price you could never hope to pay off.

“There are more of you?” You spoke saxon, hoping he knew something of the language you’d been forced to adopt. It wasn’t yours and you realized that he knew that when he tilted his head. Eyebrow quirked and for a split second you forgot how tall and demonic and out of place he was because he looked as bewildered as the little boy you kept watch over when you tried to explain the phenomena of the universe.

Finally he nodded. He didn’t seem afraid at all and you didn’t blame him. Who were you to inspire fear in anyone? You let go of the hilt of your knife, chancing a step toward him. The only thing he could be doing, by not yet killing you, was biding his time. If he assumed that you were faster than he was, that you knew the woods better than he did, then he could assume that you would reach the closest village sooner than he and his men would. And if you did, it could give them chance to run, though you could assume that running was in vain. This man looked the very part of death and it was an inevitable fact of his existence that wherever he went, so did it. Even if you ran, even if you warned whoever you had to warn, he and his people would find you and kill you and it would mean nothing.

Though you life so far had meant nothing anyway. “I’m not going to run away,” you continued speaking. He had understood you before. “I’m not afraid of you.” That was a lie and the little half smile that he gave you told you that he knew it was a lie.

“No?” He took a step closer to you, leaves crunching beneath his boots.

You swallowed the nerves that bubbled up into your throat, keeping your gaze on him and your stance relaxed. You weren’t afraid. What was the worst he could do to you? Kill you and put you out of the abject misery that your life had equated to since you had been brought to this village? Leave you alive and take you back across the sea to wherever he was from so that you could live exactly as you lived here somewhere else? You had no alliance to the people in the village where you lived.

The closer he got to you, the better you could see him and you were struck with the odd thought that he was incredibly attractive. There was something about the way he moved that vaguely reminded you of something you once knew in another life. You could see also, as the rain began to lessen, that there was a series of small markings tattooed into his skin, parallel to his eye. You hadn’t seen anything like that in a decade, maybe longer. Sometimes it felt like the place you were before this village was an imagination of yours, just a daydream that you invented. Other times, like this one, it felt like you had just been standing in the doorway of your little house watching your father sharpen a sword.

“Perhaps you aren’t afraid,” he teased when you reached your hand out and touched the side of his face where the tattoo was.

Just as quickly as he’d felt the roughness of your fingers against his cheek they were gone, your hand clutched to your stomach as if you’d been burned. “You’re going to kill them?” You asked, not daring to look away. He could devour you if you even blinked and you knew he would not hesitate to do so.

“We are already on our way.”

Ubbe had split from his brother at the sound of a brook, eager for water after the long journey to shore. When it’d begun to rain he had abandoned the expedition, heading back towards the encampment to rejoin his brother and his army. It was then that he’d seen you, standing in the middle of the forest and staring at him as though he were some apparition sent by the gods. He’d been on shores like these before, had seen other saxons. They were nothing inspiring, if not for the wealth of land and riches that were offered in the raids, they offered little that peaked his interest. But there was something in your eyes, even through the dense rain he knew you were different. And when you spoke, the accent that carried your words was nothing like the saxon ones he had grown accustomed to. You were no christian.

You wondered what repayment of a debt entailed for his people? Would these supposed heathens be as brutal as your christians had? Surely not. “Would you take me back with you? Is it foolish...to beg for my life?”

“Are you begging?” The way he asked was almost teasing. As if he was saying ‘weren’t you the one who said you weren’t afraid’. When you squared your shoulders, the hand that had caressed his face going back to your knife, he smiled. You were positively enticing.

“No.” You replied, forcing yourself to keep yours eyes locked with his. They were blue like the ocean. Like the stream by the house that you vaguely remembered living in as a child.

“What about your people?” Ubbe asked, looking passed you as he spoke. Unlike you, unsurprisingly, he wasn’t afraid to look away. What could you really do to him. You doubted your knife would do more than tickle him. “You’ll let them die?” He’d encountered plenty of saxons and while he had little respect for them, he didn’t know them to abandon each other.

“They’re not my people.” You explained, “they are nothing to me.” It would be beyond your ability in saxon to tell him exactly what they were. To explain the pain and anguish that you’d suffered all these years though you suspected he knew by the way his eyes softened at your words. Still tall and intimidating and yet, his eyes made you doubt that he could be as terrible as the stories you’d heard. No one with eyes that soft could kill the way these men supposedly did. Or maybe he could, but you couldn’t believe that he would kill you that way.

“What should you have me do?” He asked, though he had already made up his mind. Possibly when he first saw you. Bjorn had told him once of a person he’d taken back to camp with him as a sort of trophy and he’d heard stories of Athelstan from men who’d travelled with his father. Whether it was some hereditary thing in him, a need to possess something beautiful and different, or whether it was something about you and the way you stood so unafraid in the middle of the woods and refused to cave to him, he knew that he was already planning to take you home with him.

“I could work...if you gave me passage. I could work to pay you back.” You offered.

Ubbe frowned in thought, reaching his hand out and running muddy fingers against your hairline. The caress felt almost intimate and for the first time since you saw him in the clearing you let yourself lose focus, closing your eyes for a moment as you leaned against his touch. When he pulled away, you opened your eyes, tensing again as if you had never let yourself relax.

“What would you do?” He asked, blue eyes shining as they met yours again.

“Anything.” You promised, “I have nowhere to return and I will not die.”

“You refuse it?”

“If you wanted to kill me, you would have.” You reasoned, knowing it was true. There had been plenty of moments from when he saw you to now that he could have killed you. He could have done anything he wanted to but you were both still standing here in the woods and it had started to rain again and you could smell the smoke in the air. “So then, if you’re going to let me live...take me away from here.”

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ritual-unions · 8 months

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A Curse I Cannot Lift

Part One of Wolf Like Me: Read the rest here

Pairing: Ubbe x OFC

Summary: Eir, daughter to the King of Sweden, worries that her father has promised her hand in marriage, though he denies the claim. Arriving at the shores of Kattegat, Eir sneaks away from her family, running into a stranger she hopes to never see again.

Setting: slightly pre-season 4b, maybe by a few months.

Word Count: >2000

Warnings: none, unless a “meet-cute” is a warning.

Her mother had complained every day since stepping on the boat that the salt soaked into her dress would never come out. Eir had to admit, she too was ready to be on land again, though she does not voice her complaints as loudly as her mother.

The warriors rowing look as though they will gladly trade positions with the Queen of Sweden, whose hands are void of any calluses, and the jewels dripping off her head and neck would fetch enough coin to feed them and their families for three years. The men grimace, and grunt as Eir’s mother whines, thinking instead of the glory and the gold they will obtain when they finally sail to the Mediterranean.

The first stop will be Kattegat, where Eir’s father, King Anund of Sweden, will begrudgingly pay tribute to the man responsible for the voyage. Eir asks her father if she too can sail to the Mediterranean, only to receive a wide-eyed look of wonder in return. King Anund will take her younger brothers, yes, but no, Eir will stay with her mother, Sif, waiting patiently in Kattegat, until they return.

Her parents are hiding something from her. Eir knows by the way her mother stares at her longingly as if she will never see her again. As if she will blink her eyes and Eir will disappear. Sif offers each night to brush Eir’s hair, even though she had not done such a thing since Eir was ten years old.

Anund has lovingly squeezed Eir’s shoulder so frequently that Eir is sure there will be an indentation where his fingers have pressed against her skin. Each evening Anund finds Eir at the bow of the ship, opens his mouth as if to say something wise, stands like a gaping fish and promptly walks away.

When Eir asks if something is wrong her parents shrug their shoulders, frown, and look off into the distance, the orange glow of the sun blinding their eyes, as if Eir should look for answers there.

It would be of no surprise to any of her handmaids that Eir slips away the moment the boat docks on the shores of Kattegat. It is possible that they even look the other way when she silently holds herself back before timidly heading down the shoreline.

The cliffs that stand like silent sentries over the fjord have been calling to Eir since they sailed in, two days earlier. Leaning against the prowl of the ship she had stared up at their glory wondering what it must be like to stand on top of them.

The hollow in the hillside seems the most obvious route, but as she struggles over the rubble, her fine leather boots slipping against the rugged rocks, the journey becomes almost impossible.

She turns around in search of a better route, not yet willing to be deterred. There is a game-trail down the way that she eyes but it is a steep climb and in her dress she does not think she has the mobility to make it. She will try anyway, she has to make it to the top. There is something waiting for her there, only waiting to be discovered.

A man she had not noticed before is at the base of the path she wants to take. He is off his horse, fiddling with the straps of his saddle, a large black dog circling his heels impatiently. Cautiously, she freezes in place. The way he had slid into view without a sound, is unsettling. With no one around to see he can easily attack her. Eir does not have the skill or strength of a shieldmaiden or even a country girl raised to carry bags of wheat twice their size. She is a princess untrained in the art of war, instead she gapes, shifting on her feet unsteadily, unsure what to do next.

With as much courage as she can muster, she acknowledges him. “Who are you?”

Silently, the man gazes at her in acute interest, a whisper of a smile on his lips as he takes her in. His dirty blonde hair is wind swept and wild atop his head. His face is clean of dirt but she cannot place his station, much to her annoyance. He could be a local or a warrior traveling to Kattegat to sail with Bjorn Ironside. She does not know, making her even more cautious.

The black dog, more a wolf, steps in closer, long nose sniffing at the air. Not able to steady her nerves she takes half a step back. The man snaps his fingers twice, causing Eir to jump in surprise and the wolf to sit back on his haunches. The wolf-dog looks at her with the same watchful eyes as the man.

“Are you the kennel master?” Eir demands. Her gaze travels to the two rabbits hanging off of his shoulder. “The gamekeep?” She asks again, her nerves causing her to ramble.

This makes him laugh, a throaty chuckle that creases the corners of his eyes. A kind smile greets her and she can not help but warm to it. She has never thought of herself as a funny person but she wishes she knew a few jokes just to make him laugh that way again.

“Do you always demand someone’s profession before their name?” He inquires with a tilt of his head.

A blush creeps along Eir’s throat. Embarrassed, she looks anywhere but his face, to the horse that stands patiently beside him or the hillside she still desires to climb, even as he tries vainly to find her gaze once more.

“I am Ubbe,” he finally announces, and Eir can no longer ignore him. His voice is soft, there is no hint of haughtiness as if she should know who he is. Most men she meets in her father’s great halls wear their pride heavy on their shoulders and chest, demanding an abundance of attention just for being. This man does not and Eir frowns, not used to such modest demure.

“I am not the kennel master or the gamekeep.” His mouth holds a humor hidden in the corners as he speaks. “Though my brothers probably think otherwise.” He shrugs his shoulders, as if this is the way of the world. Ubbe laughs under his breath, shaking his head when Eir frowns in discontent.

“I want to go up there,” Eir says when Ubbe does not offer to explain himself. To deflect his attention she flicks her chin in the direction of the cliffs.

Ubbe’s face is somber as he follows her gaze, allowing Eir’s disposition to settle away from his searching eyes. “Yes. I can take you,” he says, reaching out for her, fingers slipping around her waist.

With a gasp of surprise she twists out of his grip. Never in her life has she been grabbed at so rudely. This man is clearly some boy from the country, not trained in the ways to treat a lady of her stature.

“What are you doing?” She shrieks.

Again Ubbe laughs at her. “Helping you on my horse. You cannot think to walk.”

“I don’t ride horses.” Her tongue feels heavy in her mouth. She does not have to explain herself like this back home. Her hands find her hips, eyes narrowing in an attempt to show that her mind will not easily be swayed.

“It is fine if you have never ridden before. Skadi is a good girl.” Ubbe pats the snowy rump of the draft horse and the mare flicks her head in silent agreement, white mane flashing in the sun.

Eir shakes her head, taking half a step back.

“Come,” Ubbe goads with a wave of his hand. Eir chews her lip in apprehension. She should not trust this man but a wild sense of curiosity bubbles in her belly, pushing her forward. She is desperate to go to the top, something is calling her there.

“Here, I will show you.” Ubbe is on the horse in one fluid twist, holding out his hand in offering when he has settled. His eyes spark with mischief. Curious, Eir takes another step towards Ubbe and his horse. She has never been one to dabble in the unknown but here she is scrambling on top of a horse she does not know with a man she has just met. Her mother would faint at the sight of her.

Gripping onto the leather of the saddle, Eir mumbles, “this is wrong.”

Cool breath tickles her ear. “That is what makes it fun.” He is laughing at her again but she does not get the chance to glare at him over her shoulder. He spurs the horse forward, startling Eir, and she has to bite the inside of her cheek to keep herself from letting out a shriek of terror.

Ubbe is right about not wanting to walk this hillside on foot. Eir can hear the horse’s labored breathing, its first strides quick then she slows as muscles strained to push on. This is why Eir refuses to ride horses. It is not right. To abuse an animal, to force them to carry their weight just to make their lives easier, she wants nothing to do with it.

She opens her mouth to protest. She would walk the rest of the way.

“Here,” Ubbe says, halting the horse, his fingers on her waist nudging her down. With shaking arms she slides to the ground.

Letting out a sigh of relief, she remembers to pat the horse’s neck in thanks, whispering promises of a treat. It will not be enough for her conscience but the sight before her pulls her away from her guilt.

From here she can see the entire world. The fjord long and endless, Kattegat small and bustling, plumes of smoke rising from tiny houses, and up the valley, to the mountains and beyond. At the mouth of the fjord boats sailed in, tiny dots on the vast landscape. They come from all over, places Eir had never been and would probably never go.

“I think my father means to marry me off,” Eir blurts, words tumbling out of her mouth without consent.

Ubbe is relaxed on a large lichen covered boulder, his wolf perched on a patch of snow next to him. They share a mirrored thoughtful look but neither offer an opinion on the matter. She rolls her eyes. She should not expect so much from a kennel master. It is better this way. She does not need his opinion. She knows what she really wants.

“I want to scream.”

“Scream.” Ubbe’s subtle nod of permission allows Eir to open her lungs. She screams, loud and hard, until her throat hurts and her ears ring, until she feels right again.

“Better,” she says with a heavy sigh, brushing over her skirts, straightening out the wrinkles and her temporary embarrassment. She would never see this man again. It does not matter how he views her. “You can take me back now.”

This time Ubbe does not laugh at her, instead he helps her on his horse and silently they make their way back to the shore.

Her mother, Sif, is there, frantically calling her name, as she paces the sandy shoreline. Ubbe's steady hands help Eir off the horse, making sure she has her feet under her before he steps away. Mirth is once again lit in his eyes as he watches Sif, rushing toward her.

Eir wants to say something, thank him for his help or scold him for laughing at her mother’s nature but she does not get the opportunity, instead Sif’s crushing hug leaves Eir swaying on her feet.

“I was only gone a moment,” Eir mumbles against her mother’s shoulder.

“Don’t do that!” Sif replies, already turning back down the shore, towards town where her maids and a few king’s guards wait patiently for their queen’s return. Eir’s elbow is clenched tightly in Sif’s hand as her mother directs Eir back to the bustle of town. With one last fleeting glance over her shoulder, Eir plans to call out her thanks to Ubbe but she finds that his eyes are still full of mirth. He is laughing at her, at her mother. His mouth is alive with humor though he tries vainly to damper it with a slip of his tongue against his lips. Eir scowls, happy that she will never have to see Ubbe again.

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Entire Vikings Masterlist or Wolf Like Me series masterlist

#vikings fic #ubbe #ubbe x oc #Ubbe x Eir #ubbe fic #vikings ubbe #ubbe ragnarsson #vikings history #ubbe lothbrok #ubbe imagine #vikings fanfiction

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literaryuppsala · 2 years

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I can’t stop you putting roots in my dreamland.

Title: Another Taylor Swift song, this one is ivy

Pairing: Ubbe x Fem!Reader

Summary: That’s my very own arranged marriage I’ve written for my baby @goldaggers

Words: 2k(ish).

Warnings: We have forced marriage and just overall old centuries’ misogyny, but no smut in this one.

A/N: I deleted my other account (stylinsonliving) and all my works will be reposted here, any doubt send me an ask. Here, just remember that the reader, despite being forced to get married, acts like she accepted her fate at first. And Ubbe won’t be forcing himself on her, but there’s a few moments where she will be forced to do things she’s not comfortable with, so If that’s a trigger, please don’t read this. 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.

Second Chapter here

First CHAPTER below the cut, enjoy ♥

CHAPTER I

You would never forget the first time you laid eyes on the Northmen, the memory was carved into your mind like It was set in stone. That day, the brutality of their attacks wasn’t a surprise to you, even though you were only four. The story of the raid in Lindisfarne spread through the people of Northumbria like wildfire and you heard every saxon murmuring prayers to themselves every time someone mentioned the Vikings. But you knew something different.

When they came, they first raided the village and took every worthy object they could find, gold and silver, even from the church. It wasn’t too long until they came to the castle, so your father, king Aelle, took you, your mother and your brothers to his chambers and locked you all inside, putting four guards outside the door.

A wooden door could never contain you, you smiled to yourself at the thought. Using the hidden door your father used to sneak out late at night to go after servants, you ran away under your mother’s nose, and just like she didn’t see your father leaving every night, she didn’t see you either.

You ran through the castle following the noise, curious about these beasts who were taller than trees and stronger than lions, or so they said. Your tiny feet covered in leather boots made thud noises against the stones on the ground, your heart was beating so fast you could feel it in your ears. You reached the kitchen and heard the screams outside, all of your courage vanishing fast when you hid behind a wall of pots, hugging your legs against your chest, hearing their weird talk and deep voices.

Next thing you know, your eyes met his. The most beautiful pair of eyes you had ever seen, a cerulean color that reminded you of the ocean, a deep blue that could drown you at any minute. When you thought he would get you out of your hiding place, he smiled and put his index finger over his lips, his blood covered lips, asking you to stay silent. He then took a cloth and covered your head with It, making impossible for the other raiders to see you there.

“My lady…” Your maid’s voice took you out of your daydream. “Your father is waiting.”

You nodded, getting up off your chair carefully and holding your wedding dress so you wouldn’t trip over the hem. You walked the same path you did when you first met the Northmen, this time as a bride for one of the Ragnarssons. You heard he had five, but did not know which one of them would be your husband. Your maids followed you closely as the guards led the way and protected you, but you knew you didn’t actually need protection, not from the Northmen, not after you were offered in marriage to them.

Every step closer the castle chapel was a step far from your christian heritage, from everything that was known and precious to you. You knew It was your duty as princess of Northumbria, but you wished your father had consulted you before selling you to the Vikings like a broad mare. What they wanted was something else to guarantee King Aelle‘s army wouldn’t attack their settlements, other than his words. After king Ecbert’s betrayal, they needed more, they needed you. In exchange, the Northmen would never raid in Northumbria again and their warriors would join the king’s army anytime needed.

“Daughter.” Your father greeted you outside the chapel. “Our people will always be grateful for the sacrifice you’re making. I will always be grateful.” He murmured, giving you a chaste kiss on your forehead. You said nothing, just smiled at him and turned towards the wooden door.

He nodded to the guards and they opened It. Your breath caught on your throat right before you started walking down the aisle, your arm intertwined with your father’s. That was the first time you ever saw your future husband, but you couldn’t separate him from the others. There were five Northmen side by side next to the altar, all of them sharing the same beautiful blue eyes you saw as a kid.

The path was short, too short for your liking, you ended up very quickly in front of the men who looked at you like hungry wolves staring at their prey. You glanced at your father right before one of them stepped away from the others and walked towards you. You snapped in his direction, your body trembling in terror. He stared into your eyes making you feel like he knew all of your deepest secrets, your skin raised in goosebumps when his hand touched yours.

“Princess.” He whispered, so low you doubted he said anything at all.

He reminded you of the man who saved your life years ago inside that kitchen, the same kindness written in his face when he gave you an apologetic look, a tattoo crossed his face from his brow to his cheekbone, beautiful furs covered his shoulders making him look big and frightening. You didn’t love this man, you shouldn’t be marrying him.

“In nomine patris et filii et spiritus sancti.” The priest made the cross sign with his hands, pointing at the altar where you and your future husband should kneel to receive the blessings.

And so you did. Both of you kneeled before the priest, but none of you were actually listening to what he was saying, your mind wandering through the possibilities of your new life, the uncertainty of your new life. You couldn’t help the single tear wetting your cheek, the silent cry of fear was your last rebellious act against that fate chosen for you by the king.

By the end of the ceremony, your now husband held your face between his hand and kissed your forehead, you shivered. Both of you walked down the hall and took your places at the center of the table while the others spreaded all over the place, by your side and at the other tables, and as soon as you were all settled, the feast was served.

You weren’t hungry, the food remained untouched in your plate as your eyes wandered, your mind was elsewhere. Every now and then you would glance at your husband, Ubbe was his name, his body all relaxed on the chair, smiling alongside who, you could only guess, were his brothers. You took your cup of ale and drank as much of it as you could, then asked for a refill, catching the attention of the people close, your cheeks burned, but you ignored the looks and just drank again.

The night went on, crawling away from you like a leech running away from the fire. Time was never very much of a friend to you, rushing when you wanted It to stop, creeping when you badly wanted to reach the end of a torturous situation. Every minute into that feast was a minute faster into the bedding ceremony and you needed to be prepared, even though you didn’t know what to expect of It, you knew what you were supposed to do that night. Every glance you traded with your husband made you more aware of the proximity of your torment and when the people finally gave out, you were called by your maids, your father and the bishop awaited for you by the door.

You raised, followed by all of the remaining people around the table, so did your husband who gave you a warm smile before offering his hand to help you out of the table, you accepted, giving him a discreet bow and following your maids out of the hall. Walking fast to the marital chambers, you could feel the air starting to heavy around you, the realization of what was about to happen filling you with fear and sorrow, your body started to shake uncontrollably as you arrived.

Your maids started undressing you, your wedding veil at first, the silk cloth were taken out, carefully folded and left at the armchair so they could proceed. Your jewelry followed, then they started to untie your dress, undoing the buttons on your back until they could slide the sleeves through your arms and help you out of the heavy garment. You were finally on your nightgown when they started to loosen your hair.

“You will be alright, my lady.” One of them finally said, catching your attention as she brushed your hair. “We heard this Northman, your husband, is a good man. He was baptized, accepted our god, I am certain he will not harm you in any way.”

You smiled, but could not answer in time. The door was opened showing all of the noblemen of the court and the church, accompanied by your father and your husband dressed in one pair of cotton pants, barefoot on the stones with an expression that made you think he could be just as nervous as you.

He walked to you, his body free of the furs were no different, he was still big and frightening, his torso was covered in tattoos. Your eyes trained on the floor, your mind still wandered while the priest kept saying the words, giving his blessing for your wedding night. You were shaking, visibly shaking, the worried glances you stole from Ubbe left you way more self conscious about everything.

“Out.” He growled all of a sudden. “All of you.”

“My lord, we need to confirm that the marriage has been consummated.” One of the lords inside the room explained.

“You can confirm tomorrow seeing the blood on the sheets.” He argued.

“My lord, but this… This is not right, the blood may be from anywhere. How will we know for sure?” The lord from before tried again, nervously laughing.

“You’ll believe the words of your princess, or would she lie to you?” Ubbe did not get any response for this question, so he took a deep breath and told them again. “Now get out.”

It took a few minutes to convince everyone, but they eventually left you alone with your husband who closed the doors and locked them up.

“I am sorry about all of this, princess.” He murmured, his back still turned to you. “I know this is not how you imagined things would be for you.” He turned to you then, his icy blue eyes boring little cold spots on your skin, making you shiver.

“It’s alright, my lord.” You answered quickly, your voice shaking from fear, even with your eyes trained on the ground you could sense his approach.

“I know it isn’t.” He insisted, his hands finally reaching you and gently touching your bare shoulders. You hugged yourself trying to cover your upper body, but did not avoid his touch completely. “Look at me princess.” Your eyes finally met his, while his hands slowly slid from your shoulders to your neck, then to your face, his calloused skin leaving a little burning trail behind until his thumbs met your wet cheeks. “Please do not fear me. I won’t harm you, I promise.” You just nodded in response. “And I promise to try and make this marriage a little less difficult for you, in every way that I can.”

You nodded, still struggling to look him in the eyes. You held his hands and moved them away from your face, taking more steps away from him too, closer to the bed. After taking a deep breath you ask him:

“H-How do you want me?”

“Do you want me?” He asked back, making you frown a bit, eyes blinking in confusion as you stared at him.

“What do you mean?” You insisted, just to be sure.

“Do you want me?” He repeated. “Do you want to have sex with me now?” You blinked confused. “Like I said, you don’t have to do anything, only the things you want.”

“But, when they come tomorrow, they will ask for the sheets and for the blood.”

Ubbe approached the bed and took a small knife from his back, probably somewhere inside his pants, you didn’t know. Carefully, he made a cut on his hip, taking a few drops of blood to stain the white sheets.

“I’m afraid we’ll have to share the room so they won’t doubt what happened here, but other than that, you don’t have to do anything.”

Both of you kept your stares, looking at each other’s faces carefully. Your soul was now filled with gratitude for that man. He surely reminded you of Ragnar, not only because of the deepness of the blue in their eyes, but the kindness you found inside them.

“If you could hand me a pillow and maybe a blanket to make my night on the ground less painful, I would be very grateful.” He told you with a playful smile, making you smile too.

“Please, take your place by my side.” You asked shyly. “I couldn’t let you sleep on the floor. And besides, It would be strange If someone entered our chambers and found you on the ground.”

“Fair enough.” He mouthed, slowly walking towards the bed and carefully taking his place on the right side.

You did the same, taking the other side and covering yourself, but you didn’t immediately laid down, leaning against the headboard for a few minutes before finally blowing off the candle by your side, giving Ubbe the permission to do the same with his. In the middle of the darkness of the room, without his prying eyes on your face, you could mouth something under your breath:

“Thank you for your kindness, my lord.”

***

#vikings #vikings fic #vikings imagine #ubbe ragnarsson #ubbe x you #ubbe x reader #vikings ubbe #ubbe fic #arranged marriage #fanfiction #+18 #fanfic #au #ubbe au

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therealvikingstrash · 1 year

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Finally, I can share all the art I made for @doctorwhoandfairytaillover entry Recuerdo to the @vikingsbigbang Winter '22 event!

Moodboards and Edits:

The divider:

#vikings #vikings moodboards #vtrash edits #vtrash moodboards #ubbe #ubbe x ofc #recuerdo #vikingsbigbangwinter22 #vbbw22 #art reveal #fic reveal #fandom event #ubbe fic

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vikingsmasterlist · 10 days

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Winter Solstice Prompt

Stargazing

Holly

Snow

Candlelight

Furs

Sauna

Body Heat

#vikings #vikings fanfic #vikings fanfiction #ubbe fanfic #ubbe fanfiction #ubbe fic #wintersolstice

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undiscovered-horizon · 8 months

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Vikings preference: your friend hits on you and gets aggressive

@ivartheb0neless

Ragnar Feels genuinely hurt because he thought he could trust your friend. Whenever Ragnar went away, he'd ask your friend to keep an eye on you and generally make sure you're safe and sound. Makes veiled threats and passive-aggressive jokes at first, hoping that he can both force a boundary and not sour any relationships but his humour is gone when he realizes that your friend is not keen on taking no as an answer. If you raise your concern about "safety vs. keeping a friend", Ragnar makes a sarcastic comment about your sentiment - because a guy who forced himself on you is such a great friend to keep, right?

Gives you a knife to keep on you at all times. If you have the guts, and such an occasion arises, to stab the man once he gets physical with you, Ragnar will have your back no matter what. Also, low-key thrilled. But if you don't end up fighting your own battles, he'll gladly do it for you. Not an ounce of regret on his face during or after.

Bjorn Pretty direct. Makes plausible threats and will fulfil them. Terrifyingly calm and collected for the most part. He's angry but also disappointed that someone you considered a friend could repay your kindness and affection in such a way.

If you tell Bjorn that you're unsure what to do because you want to keep your friend or you think that he's overdoing things, he might get short with you but it's not out of malice. He's worried that if you don't see your male friend for the lying snake that he is, you might get even more hurt and that possibility enrages him so much he doesn't entertain that thought longer than necessary.

Bjorn is definitely the type to make his revenge somewhat public. Not only will that make others keep their distance from you but it will also earn him respect among other men - he takes his husbandly duties seriously. Whether your "friend" lives or dies is entirely up to them and how callous they have been with you. Whether he meant to or not, Bjorn causes people to look away from you when you're walking through the town. No one wants to risk getting your friend's treatment.

After that, Bjorn will never trust any man who tries to be your friend or claims to be one.

Ubbe Tries to be the bigger person at first and has a stern word with your friend. Ubbe is probably the only one to seriously take your word/assurance that there's nothing to get worked up about. He will also wait relatively the longest before getting seriously involved - not because he doesn't care, it's quite the contrary. He doesn't want to impose on your independence, so even if he's uncomfortable with the situation but you keep saying "I've got this", he will keep to himself although will voice his concerns (and will refuse to leave you alone at any place or time). When things become serious and the man starts to get physical, Ubbe will make it clear that from now on he's more concerned about your well-being than your freedom: "I'm sorry for disregarding your wishes but I can't sit and watch you get hurt". Believes to be responsible for your safety as your husband.

Ubbe is the type of person who will seek your friend out on his own and resolve the issue right then and there. He goes to the other man's house one night and leaves it only when an agreement is reached - doesn't matter how far he has to go to ensure that. Ubbe's not afraid to get his hands dirty for the right reasons.

Hvitserk Also hurt because he was actually getting along well with the other man. Hvitserk will ask about your perspective and wishes but if your safety is compromised, he won't make them a priority. At first, he's trying to get you out of harm's way, so you're leaving your house only if he's by your side. But once he learns that your supposed friend forced his way into your home and put his hands on you, Hvitserk is determined to take things into his own hands. He won't seek out your friend on his own but rather wait for an opportunity to arise; doesn't start the fight but surely will end it. The next time another unwanted advances are made towards you, Hvitserk has an axe in his hand and this time, he's the one who doesn't take no for an answer.

If you ever befriend another man after that, Hvitserk will tolerate him but never let go of any suspicions. Also, might tell the story of your previous "admirer" to scare your new friend into behaving properly.

Sigurd The most probable to get into a brawl right away. At first, he feels quite self-conscious seeing another man flirting with you but when the man in question starts to become aggressive, Sigurd coins his insecurity into hostility, effectively picking a fight. After what seems like lakes of blood and an entire concert of bones breaking, the brawl ends. Sigurd looks like he's been through Hell and still that's a lot better than your friend, who would be pronounced dead if it wasn't for the sporadic raise of his chest as he tries to take in a ragged breath. Sigurd will also voice his anger as he's caving in the other man's skull ("Was it fun when you grabbed her? Enjoying a little manhandling, eh? I'm happy to provide").

Gains respect in his brothers' eyes but none of them quite wants to admit it.

Ivar He would also feel self-conscious at first. Considers your friend's bold behaviour an assault on his masculinity ("You think I'm not man enough and therefore think you have any right to bother my wife"). Not surprised in the slightest. Hated the guy's guts from the very beginning and made it obvious. Might actually say the dreaded "told you so".

Because he perceives your friend's aggression as somewhat personal, Ivar is driven to go quite far in order to make the punishment fit for the crime. Not only does he do it for your sake but also to make sure that everyone knows just how much of a true Viking is inside him. Some say that "silence is golden", so if your friend decides to use less-than-savoury language towards you, he might end up with his throat filled with liquid gold to ensure no more offence leaves his mouth. Similarly, he's going to suffer the "equivalents" for whatever other thing he's done. He grips your hand so hard there's a bruise? Ivar will wrap his hand with a chain and slowly tighten it until all the bones crack and the wrist is literally torn away from the forearm. But no matter what he does, in the end he still feels like it doesn't quite make up for your friend's wrongdoings.

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bjornswoman · 4 months

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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

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miss-madness67 · 6 months

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What is a Viking? (Ubbe)

Prompt: When Ubbe follows Floki’s trails to the new land, he finds more than he expected: you. Slight AU, Ubbe’s not with Torvi.

The tall grass caresses your hands softly. The seagulls dance in the sky. A shiver runs through your body, the sea breeze is cold, especially at the peak of the cliff. From your position, you have visibility over the coast. Waves crash on the rocks to your left, and at your right, a vast sandy beach extends. You have been here for hours, it is your favorite spot. You love the land that you live in, even if recently there have been certain curious developments to your routine. Some time ago, from this same cliff, you were the first one who spotted him. The crazy man that spoke another language and crafted wood. He was in bad shape, malnourished, when he arrived at the shores in a tiny boat. You had taken him to your mother, Pekitaulet. Despite the cautiousness, your people welcomed him. Nevertheless, all of you were a bit on edge, he could not have been alone, could he? So you waited for the rest of his people to arrive. Waited and waited, until one day, another boat docked.

The first few days, your tribe was careful. They left the newcomers alone, just to see what they would do. They were less than you, after all. You could defend yourselves if something were to happen. Your mother, knowing how curious you were, forbade you to go near them. She did not want you to make the same rash decision you did with Floki, the mad man. It certainly took all of you not to approach them, but you managed. However, you could not help looking at them from afar. Just like Floki, they were fascinating. They wore so different clothing and acted even more so. You wanted to learn more about them. Still, that interest in their culture was nothing compared to what made you feel specifically one of them. You saw him in your first illicit exploration, he carried himself as the leader. Tall, with broad shoulders, light hair, and eyes a color you have only seen on Floki. Yet, they were a different shade, much brighter. Blue eyes. Your mother had told you before that blue eyes meant danger. But what a beautiful danger he was. You were so utterly entranced by him that he almost caught you once. You swear that he saw you; your eyes connecting with his. But then he left. Maybe he did not see you after all.

It was a few days later when they found your camp. They were following the traces your people placed for them, and they bought it. You still remember the wary look in their eyes when they saw your people. You still remember the look in Ubbe’s (you learned his name then) eyes when he saw you. He was smitten. You knew then that he had indeed seen you before. You wanted to question why he did not say anything, but you could barely understand him. That would be something for you to ask once you could communicate more.

To be honest, that first meeting was a little tense, both groups expecting attacks. It was until the little girl pulled the old man's facial hair that everyone laughed and ate. You could barely take your eyes off Ubbe. Not that he was doing a better job at concealing his interest in you. After they left, your mother chastised you. She wanted you to be friendly with them, but to be careful.

The second meeting went smoother. Their people invited you back to their camp and showed you around. You sat with your sister-in-law, Nikani, and a woman named Torvi, while you braided your hair. Torvi appraised you once you finished, though the result was a poor attempt to duplicate her hairstyle. On the other side of the camp, you saw your brothers Peminuit and We'jitu have an aim contest with Ubbe and the other men. Shortly after that, Ubbe sat with you by the fire. He wanted to tell you something, but just like you, he did not know how to express himself without words. Yet, he was stubborn. He looked you in the eyes and murmured, “du er vakker.” You smiled, although you had no idea what he meant. However, it was like no words were necessary to express each other’s feelings because, after that, he rarely parted from you. That evening, you took his people to Floki’s house.

Slowly, you learned the way of his people and he learned yours. You would dry fur for him to wear and sew beads for necklaces. He accepted all of your gifts happily and returned some. He gave you meat he hunted and a beautiful fluffy fur he brought along with him. Languages were exchanged, and you began to understand better what he said. One of those times, when Torvi was teaching you a few words, you asked what ‘vakker’ meant. Knowingly, she responded that it was ‘beautiful’. You blushed, remembering all the times Ubbe had called you that. Even so, the relationships between tribes were still fragile when one of them killed your brother We'jitu. Your family was devastated. For a moment, you thought everything accomplished would be lost. That you would have to forget about Ubbe and whatever blossoming relationship you had. Luckily, Pekitaulet was wise and wanted no war. She granted the foreigners a chance to redeem the loss. But even when they killed the murderer, everything remained tense. During the punishment and funeral, you were not able to look at Ubbe in the eyes. You were too lost in grief. And even after that, it took a while for things to settle down, for you to spend time with him again. Once you did, though, you realized him coming here was destined.

“Are you still up here?” a voice calls you softly from behind. You glance back, your husband is making his way towards you. His blue eyes shine bright in the sun. He smiles charmingly. “I thought Pekitaulet told you to be careful and not to climb the cliff for a while.”

Your guilty laugh echoes through the abyss, “I’m feeling much better now, don’t worry. Why don’t you sit beside me for a bit?” Ubbe hums but does as requested. Once settled, he takes you in his arms in a gentle embrace, placing you between his thighs.

It took more than you would have liked to learn the Norse tongue. In fact, Ubbe learned faster your language. Nevertheless, that was no barrier for your love to thrive. Steadily, the two of you became closer. You would often exchange lingering gazes, smiles, and soft touches. Everyone could see the love blossoming between the Viking and you. Soon, he asked your mother for your hand in marriage. Despite past events with his people that lead to the death of We'jitu, Pekitaulet recognized that Ubbe was a good man. She blessed the union and you became one heart.

“So,” Ubbe murmurs into your hair. He places a sweet kiss in your temple and continues, “are you going to tell me what are you doing up here?”

A few days ago, you started to feel lightheaded while in the woods. You took a nasty fall because of it, managing to injure your ankle. The healer warned you about going out until it was healed. She was about to leave when your mother requested to know the cause of your dizziness. It was no surprise what the healer responded. In fact, it was more than welcomed news. You have not told Ubbe yet. As far as he is concerned, your ankle has not healed yet.

“I just wanted to see the sundown, it is a beautiful time of the day, is it not?” You respond, gazing lovingly into your husband’s eyes.

He stares back and smiles at you. “You are beautiful.” You blush, making his smirk grow wider. He inclines and captures your lips in a small kiss. “Tell me what is it, wife of mine,” he says once he parts from you, “I know you now well enough to notice that there is something you are keeping from me. And it is not the beauty of the sundown.”

You exhale, well, it seems like you won’t be able to keep it a secret much longer. The only ones that know so far are your mother, Nikani, and Torvi (whom you befriended). You place your hand on his, softly tailing his wrist tattoos. “First, I would like to ask you something that I never had the chance to do before.” He regards you curiously, but nods. “The first time that you saw me, it was not in my camp, was it?”

Ubbe looks away sheepishly. “No. I saw you first in the woods.” He seems embarrassed, “I know you saw me too, we locked gazes.”

“Then why you say nothing to your people?” You ask.

A faint blush colors Ubbe’s cheekbones as he responds, “We had just landed, we were thirsty, and there you were, in the middle of greenery nature, all gorgeous, like a true goddess.” He peers back at you, and confidently admits, “I thought I was seeing things, losing my mind.” The hand that is not encased by yours lifts and caresses your jaw. “When I saw you again at the camp and I realized you were real…” He leaves the sentence incomplete, but you know what he means. You know too well, after all, you felt it the first time you saw him.

His utter honesty must be compensated. He needs to know the secret. “My love,” his eyes shine at the nickname, “you are right, there is something you should know.” You bring his hand slowly to your lower belly and place it there with a light squeeze. The breeze plays with your hair. You smile shyly, looking at him through your eyelashes. Ubbe inhales sharply. There is no need for words to be said, he knows what you mean, just like he always knew what you wanted to say even when you could not speak his language nor his yours. And yet, you want to say it because it is the best news ever. “Jeg er gravid.” And you know, by the look in his eyes and the smile on his face, that it is indeed the best news. He places both hands in your face to bring you closer. This time, the kiss is full of hope, love, and happiness. You can swear, to his gods or yours, that this moment, right here, was destined.

#fanfiction #ubbe #ubbe ragnarsson #ubbe fanfiction #ubbe lothbrok #vikings #vikings fic #ubbe x reader #ubbe ragnarsson x reader #vikings x reader #ubbe fluff #vikings ubbe #ubbe lothbrok x you #vikings x you #ragnarsson

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blakeswritingimagines · 2 months

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Wiping away their kisses

Ragnar: He'll laugh and smile, then he'll jokingly chase you around, trying to kiss you again, though he's pretty much pretending to put in any effort into it. Once he's caught you, he'll wrap you up in his arms, and kiss you on the neck instead.

Athelstan: "What are you doing?" He can't help but ask as he frowns at the act of wiping away a kiss. He is not happy about you being playful, especially when it comes to something as intimate as a kiss. He sees this as a sign of you not valuing the connection you have, and it bothers him.

Floki: His grin spreads wide at this like he's finding the situation hilarious. He lets his lips curl into a lopsided smile before leaning back slightly and playfully sticking his tongue out at you, teasing you. He winks and giggles, "I guess you're just not into it, huh?" His voice is teasing but playful.

Lagertha: She'll chuckle to herself, secretly entertained by the playful gesture. She'll lean forward and press her lips against yours once again, enjoying the feel of your skin against her own. When you playfully wipe it away again, she grins and says in a teasing voice, "I'll keep kissing you until you're too overwhelmed to wipe them away anymore."

Aslaug: She'll laugh after knowing it was a joke, and give a teasing look, then pull you close again and softly kiss your lips. She'll whisper, "Who said I was done yet?"

Bjorn: Is annoyed at first, but he quickly becomes playful and grabs your hands, preventing you from wiping away any more kisses. He leans in and slowly kisses your cheeks, lips, and finally neck. He'll release your hands and trail his fingers along your body, gently squeezing your hip before backing away.

Ubbe: A look of playful annoyance crosses his face. But that quickly turns into a devilish smirk. When you go to wipe away another kiss, he gently grabs your hands and pulls you closer so you can't.

Hvitserk: If you playfully wipe away a kiss, he would playfully pretend to be offended, then he would playfully grab your arms and pull you into another kiss while saying in a playfully playful tone, "You can't get rid of me that easily."

Sigurd: "What are you doing?" He'll laugh to hide his embarrassment and playfully reach for another kiss. He moves closer to you and wraps his arms around you, pulling you in close. With one hand, he'll cup your chin and lean in close. He'll gaze into your eyes and gently kiss you again, taking his time and letting your lips softly brush against each other.

Ivar: He gives you a playful glare, letting his lips curl into a small smirk. "Oh, you're asking for it now." He leans forward, putting his hands on your hips, and starts kissing you again.

Halfdan: He smirked at the little trick you tried to play on him. He then leaned forward and wrapped his arms around your waist and kissed you passionately, deeply, and repeatedly as he runs his fingers through your hair, leaving strands of it disheveled as he does so.

Harald: He would look you in the eyes and smile, leaning in to kiss you again. He takes your hand and gently pulls you close. He'll whisper in your ear: "I couldn't help myself, darling - your lips are too irresistible to resist." As he kisses you again, more deeply this time, and gently bites your bottom lip before pulling away. He looks deep into your eyes and whispers again, "Let's not be play tonight, shall we?"

#ragnar lothbrok x reader #athelstan x reader #floki x reader #lagertha x reader #aslaug x reader #bjorn ironside x reader #ubbe lothbrok x reader #hvitserk lothbrok x reader #sigurd lothbrok x reader #ivar the boneless x reader #halfdan the black x reader #harald finehair x reader #vikings fic #vikings

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imaginesmai · 10 months

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Once upon a fairy tale - Ubbe Ragnarson (7)

Barely alive, it’s been a couple of rought weeks BUT I’M BACK. Other parts: Once Upon A Fairy Tale Masterlist

Plot: Ubbe and you take important decisions, about your future and the future of your kingdoms, not knowing that something bigger than you is happening outside the castle’s walls.

When Ecbert told Ragnar about your decision to stay, the king didn’t look surprised at all. He humored you with your father, agreeing about the old age and bad knees. They both exaggerated their physical conditions between laughs, and concurred that they needed to take the hunting trip easy.

From behind your father, you watched with a soft smile the interaction.

You hadn’t noticed until that year how close your father and Ragnar were. Back at Wessex, you didn’t have many friends, and not a relationship as close as them. As you stared at their interaction, you felt your heart growing bigger, feeling that you had taken the right decision.

The moment was cut short when Ubbe and Sigurd appeared. Apparently, Aslaug had had a bad night and wouldn’t be gracing you with her presence. And, since Hvitserk hadn’t shown up for breakfast, he had declined going with them.

The hunting raid was complete and ready to go, you guessed. And it was time to share with Ubbe the news.

Both kings looked at you when the brothers arrived. Before you could notice the difference between them, Ubbe talked.

“I’ve been looking for you” he lifted the corner of his mouth, not completing the smile. “Good morning, father. King Ecbert”

“Ubbe” your father nodded in recognition.

“Where is your saddle?”

Indeed, while Sigurd was wearing his riding clothes, Ubbe was still in his usual, prince-ish robes. Not only he was wearing a long, cobalt tunic with silver embroidery, but he didn’t carry the usual smell of staying in the barn for hours.

When his brother rolled his eyes and walked away, Ubbe smiled. He had had enough time to prepare his horse, clean his riding boots and choose his favorite saddle. If he had wanted, he could have gone to the hunting raid, just as it was planned for him to go.

He liked to hunt. Like the adrenaline of chasing a prey and the silence of the forest. When they hunted, his father and him went back to his childhood, where they shared a deep bond. But he had decided against it.

“I won’t be accompanying you today, after all” Ubbe explained. “There are… matters I need to take care of. Maybe I can help princess Y/N packing”

“You won’t have to” Ecbert interrupted him.

“Oh”

Looking at your father, Ubbe lowered his head. His idea had been to stay behind with the excuse of helping you to pack. He didn’t know why, but after you were interrupted in his chambers, he had felt the need to spend one last day with you. Hvitserk had left the castle early in the morning to complete his weekly activities in the cabin, which included two brunets’ servants and the daughter of the baker.

So there was little chance of being interrupted.

He tried not to show his disappointment, because if you didn’t have to pack bags, then he didn’t have a reason to stay.

“We’ll be… staying. For another day” you explained, not meeting his eyes. “Because my father might get tired in the hunting raid, and it’s a long way back to Wessex. If it’s not a problem”

When Ragnar didn’t answer, Ubbe realized you were talking to him.

It took him by surprise that you were staying, but it was even more surprising that it was just for a day. Because he had known, deep down, that his intention today was to convince you to stay. That, during the last seven days, he had tried; first unconsciously, then as a choice. He started the summer mildly convinced that he had to marry you, and now he didn’t know what he wanted anymore.

Just that a day was an awful short amount of time.

“You could always check the old storage room” Ragnar proposed finally, breaking the silence. “It’s full of games and objects you used as children, and I’ve been asking you to take a look for a while. Maybe Y/N can help you”

“She can. She’s really organized” Ecbert contributed. “Besides, it is a bad day to stay outside. Just let these old dogs enjoy the hunting raid and find something to do. We will be back soon. Don’t want to get too tired”

“Indeed. Only God knows how many days in bed will earn us the hunting trip” Ragnar started at you with an amused smile. “Might be weeks”

“Might be, my dear friend. Shall we go?”

Both kings turned around and walked towards the carriage, that would take them to the designated part of the forest. Where the rest of the town would be waiting, with their dogs and bows ready.

While they walked away, you thought about how lucky you were. Your father would willingly stay for the whole summer if that’s what you wanted to, if that made you happy. He would also cancel the hunting raid and ride back to Wessex himself.

You stayed in silence as they got into the carriage and told the driver to move, until they drew up dust from the path and Sigurd kicked his horse to lead the way.

You had never had any problem talking with Ubbe. With remarks or mean words, you always kept the conversation going until you were torn apart by the adults or one of you couldn’t physically talk. But while the first drops of rain hit the ground, you kept quiet, not knowing what to say.

The meaning behind your decision was clear – that you wanted to try again, that you were willing to finally accept his hand. That you had consciously turned away the chance of changing your fate, consciously had chosen to marry him, without a proposal or weeding plans.

Staying meant you had admitted your intention of moving forwards, to whatever future you could hope for, and now it was Ubbe’s turn to answer. The decision of staying instead of going to the hunting raid could be an answer, but he didn’t know your decision yet.

So you waited, as rain started to wet your hair and soak your dress.

You waited in silence, until a cape was wrapped around your shoulders and a pair of hands turned you away from the path your father had just disappeared from.

“We should get inside” Ubbe spoke through the rain, that had gotten heavy a matter of seconds. “Fuck. It’s – fuck!”

“Oh my god” you couldn’t help but laugh when suddenly you were hit with what felt like a gallon of water.

You let yourself be lead away from the main door while Ubbe wrapped an arm around your shoulder. With a natural instinct, you shifted closer to him until you fit under his arm.

It wasn’t funny, but you couldn’t stop laughing, and soon, Ubbe was laughing too. It wasn’t the pearly smile you had seen that day at the courtyard, that flashed in your mind without your permission. It was different, and at the same time, wonderful.

You ran through the rain, not tripping against each other’s feet by luck. Servants that were taking cover in the barns stared when you passed by, and a man with bulky clothes tried to stop Ubbe with a scandalized scream.

Once you finally took cover, you were soaked. The rain had drenched Ubbe’s cape, now heavy on your shoulders, and the bottom of your dress was full of mud. Even your socks, under thick books, were wet. Still smiling, you stared at Ubbe as he moved your hair out of your face, letting you see his full smile. It was beautiful, his chipped front tooth a reminder of you.

Although he was too drenched to the bones, his hands felt warm, or maybe it was your cheeks. Or maybe you were running a fever and you were hallucinating, because suddenly, it was a déjà vu from that morning. He was looking at your lips and you were wondering what it would feel to stay forever, not just for a day.

His finger hovered over your mouth, a ghost touch.

“You look like a wet rat”

“And you smell like a wet horse”

He scoffed and for a second, you thought he was going to actually kiss you. That he was going to move forward and you were going to meet him at the middle. In a perfect fantasy, he would ask you to stay and you would choose to, not using excuses or prologues.

You would never know, because thunder roared in the sky and the moment was broken.

What Ragnar defined as an old storage room was everything but that. It could have been a room, a long time ago, with high windows and a clear view of the forest. But someone had decided to start accumulating things inside, and now you could barely take two steps straight.

You hadn’t bothered bathing, neither had Ubbe. As if not spending every minute of the day together was an offense, you changed clothes with your backs to each other, not even using the bathroom. You chose a dark green dress that showed your boots, comfortable to move, and Ubbe had put on a different tunic.

He showed you the storage room, moving the curtains. Everything was covered with white, dusty sheets, and you were in for a long morning.

“I threw Hvitserk down the stairs with one of these” Ubbe said from behind you, breaking the comfortable silence in the room. “He broke through a window and didn’t even get a bruise”

You looked away from the pile of children’s clothes that you were trying to organize. He was holding up a large piece of wood attached to one wheel, the other missing. Indeed, you remembered using a similar one in some occasions, although you didn’t have a specific memory with it.

Between mountains of garbage, you had found many children’s toys and clothes. After spending a lifetime of summers together, you had gathered a good amount of entertainment options. In a useless attempt of bringing you closer, your fathers had brought you everything a child would want or need. Not realizing until it was too late that you would hit each other with it before sharing.

“Didn’t you race me with one of those in the gardens?” you tried to remember, getting closer.

“You were winning so I tried to shorten through my mother’s roses” he chuckled. “She got mad, but you were furious”

“You destroyed every last of them!” you laughed too, remembering that summer.

It was one of the first ones you spent in Mercia, and you had never used a toy like that one. Thinking you wouldn’t know how, Ubbe had raced you and you had won, and in the meantime, he had destroyed half of his mother’s garden. You remembered her scolding and feeling furious at him.

So angry, that you used his favorite wooden sword as a throwing dagger during the next day.

You moved closer to him, looking at the piece of wood. Even if you had argued more than talked, it wasn’t always boring. There were games and competitions. When you were all young, Ubbe didn’t discriminate you from being a girl, and included you in the games where he thought he could win. Somewhere in the way that changed and your worlds drifted apart.

“You care too much about flowers” he said, raising from where he was sitting.

“It’s not I have many things to care about in here. I can’t cook, train or ride, and needlework is definitely not one of my passions. No matter how much your mother tries” you explained. There was only a foot between you two. “Flowers are… nice. They are beautiful”

“If you want to, I could assign some more servants to the garden. So they can help you take care of them”

If you want to stay, I could make you happy, just so you know

Ubbe let the hidden meaning clear. Because if you left after your father rested, then the garden was the least of your concerns. He couldn’t care less about the flowers or the garden, and he knew right then, that if it made you stay, he would send his whole army to take care of those flowers.

In that dark room, crowded with objects from your past, he waited for you to answer. It was impossible that you hadn’t understood what he meant, and by the way you stared at him, he knew. In just seven days, he had made a decision that had been asked from him for sixteen years. Sixteen years under the pressure of getting to know you and take you as his wife.

Only when you were no longer under that much pressure, he finally saw it clear.

“It would be nice” you answered, your voice small. “You could help me sometimes. If you want to”

Through the window, another lighting broke the sky. The storm was now loud and wild, thunders and lighting accompanying the rain. Someone appeared through the trees riding a horse at full speed, towards the castle. It would take them a while to reach the gates, and you didn’t notice them.

Not when Ubbe’s blue eyes were staring right into your soul, and when yours couldn’t decide where to look – to them or to his mouth.

“You’re staying” he tried, not a question but a fact. A need.

“If you want me to”

Before you could notice the smoke that was raising from the middle of the forest, he crossed the invisible line he had drawn sixteen years ago and pressed his lips against yours. They were rough and demanding, not like the shy, first kisses you had shared with boys in your kingdom.

You could have fallen if it wasn’t for the table that was behind you, or for his hand that pressed your hips against his. There was no air between you two, no space for second guesses. Only his lips and hands on your body, and yours on his neck.

One of yours caressed the back of his head, your thumb brushing the soft hair where his braid started. Not knowing what to you with the other one, you held yourself together by holding onto the desk. Afraid he would let you go and you would crash into the ground, knees turned into jelly.

But he didn’t let you.

With his free hand holding your head straight, demanding more of you, he broke free for air. His pupils were blown, almost no trace of blue behind them. No one had ever touched you the way he was, and you understood that no one would in the near future, if you had a saying in it.

Ubbe didn’t move his hand from your face. Instead, giving you time to push him away, he lowered it down your neck. Something inside him screamed to let go, to forget about what was expected from him and lower his hand more, until there was no turning back. The way you were looking at him, the way you weren’t moving, made it harder.

But he resisted and let his hand go to his original place, to your cheek.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked after a long minute, his voice rough and deep. “We don’t – you don’t have to. Not even if you stay”

“Shut up”

Once more, you crashed your lips against his and he let you, smiling against them. You could feel every curve and corner of his body that you had guessed that morning under the covers. The room’s temperature grew in seconds, and when the hand on your waist moved lower, you let him.

Sixteen years of frustration, hate and disagreement were forgotten as you felt your skirt move higher, his leg making its way between yours.

One thing was to sleep in the same room, to let people assume you were together, but another one was to actually do it. Before you could regret your decision or let your brain caught up with your heart, someone knocked at the door urgently.

“It’s the king! The king is dead!”

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated

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starogeorgina · 7 months

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Tattered hears

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

Pairing: Ubbe × reader

1.01

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

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

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

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

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

“Y—yes.”

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

“Is it—”

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

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

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

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

“I know.”

“Does he know?”

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

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

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

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

“Okay, I look forward to it.”

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

Your heart hammers in your chest. “What?”

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

“Ubbe…”

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

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

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

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

“I’m scared,” you admit.

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

“What about your mother?”

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

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

“I promise.”

—

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

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

“I don’t mind.”

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

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

“Stop?”

“I’m not in the mood for… that.”

“What?” He frowns.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s wrong?”

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

#Vikings #ubbe x reader #Ubbe x you #Ubbe smut #ubbe lothbrok #vikings smut #vikings x reader #vikings ubbe #tattered hearts #ubbe ragnarsson #Ubbe Ragnarsson smut #Ubbe Ragnarsson x you #Ubbe Ragnarsson x reader #ubbe fanfic #Ubbe/reader #Ubbe Ragnarsson/you #Ubbe fanfiction #vikings fics #vikings fanfiction

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literaryuppsala · 2 years

Text

I can’t stop you putting roots in my dreamland.

Title: Another Taylor Swift song, this one is ivy

Pairing: Ubbe x Fem!Reader

Summary: That’s my very own arranged marriage cliche I’ve written for my baby @goldaggers

Words: 2k(ish).

Warnings: We have forced marriage and just overall old centuries’ misogyny, still no smut but we’re getting there fellas, there’s a little crush emerging.

FOURTH CHAPTER here

THIRD CHAPTER below the cut, enjoy! ♥

“I did not have the opportunity to properly thank you for your kindness last night, my lord.” You whispered while both of you walked towards the barn, both pulling the animals by the saddle.

“No need to thank me for that.” He answered you with a stern look on his face. “I would never force you to lay with me.”

Your cheeks flushed almost immediately, embarrassment washed over you making you gasp under your breath, your eyes going wide for a moment as you avoided Ubbe’s face and stared at the ground. He smirked at your shyness, pretending he didn’t see your soft reaction to his words.

“Well, I wanted to thank you for It anyway. The men around here don't show this type of kindness to their wives, especially not on their wedding nights.” You continued. “So I insist, I want to help you in any way that I can to repay you.”

He was about to say something when you entered the castle, the guards greeted you both before opening a small space between both of them where you could pass. As you crossed the long corridor, the only sounds you could hear was the metallic click of your boots against the ground of stones, your breathing heavy on your chest.

“You can help us If you want to, you’re always welcome at the settlement, you’re family, but only If you want to.” He started, looking at you with side eyes. “Not as some sort of payment, there’s no need for that.”

“You really are… Not what I expected, my lord.” You said after sometime.

Before he could answer he was interrupted again, your mother showed up in front of you out of nowhere startling you a bit. With your hand on your chest you looked at her with widened eyes.

“Where were you?” She asked sternly.

“At the settlement.” You answered with a frown. “I sent the guards back to tell you.”

“Well, It took you a whole day to come back.” She gulped, cheeks flushed, eyes filled with worry.

“Queen Ealhswith, I can assure you…”

“I’m afraid you can not assure anything, my lord.” Your mother interrupted him. “Nor protect my daughter If you don’t see your kind as the threat.”

“Mother!” You scolded. “Why are you acting like this?”

“Go to your chambers, your father wants to talk to… him.” She whispered the last word, not daring to look Ubbe’s way, something that enfuriated you for some reason.

“You mean my husband?” You asked angrily.

“Go, now.” She insisted, making you growl under your breath.

“You don’t-” You started but he interrupted you.

“It’s alright, i’ll talk to him, you can go.” He assured you while kissing the back of your hand. “Listen to your mother, princess.”

Against your will, you nodded, watching as one of the guards escorted Ubbe, the other two were ready to escort you and your mother, but before you started to walk you looked at her.

“What’s the meaning of all this?” You scolded.

“You vanished for a whole day, the guards came back saying they left you at that place, we imagined the worst.” She explained, her voice strained and high pitched.

“At the settlement? With my family?” You mocked.

“THEY ARE NOT YOUR FAMILY!” She yelled.

“THEY ARE!” You yelled back. “Thanks to you, I am married to one of them, remember?!” You started, walking towards your mother, raising your hand and showing her your wedding ring. The queen took the same few steps back, trying to step away from you. “They are more of a family to me than you are now!”

Her eyes widened, she looked at you with anger and slapped you, hard and firm. Your mother never hit you, not even when you were a child. You looked at her in shock, hand on your cheek trying to soothe the burning on your skin, while she settled her dress on her body and looked at you disdainfully.

“Don’t you ever forget why you married that heathen in the first place.” Your mother told you sternly, forefinger up to your face. “You have to bring them to our side, not the opposite. You are a princess from Northumbria, not a heathen whore.”

“Then why did you sell me to them like I was?” You were hurt, even though you were never one to complain.

“Because it is your duty to do the best for your country.” She answered. “You keep complaining about this like a spoiled little child, like someone in this house cares about your feelings, they don’t matter, they never did.”

The guards were silent, as soon as you both started fighting they turned their backs at you trying to offer some sort of privacy without leaving you out of protection but when everything stayed silent again, they turned back. Your mother settled her dress on her body and looked at you one more time before moving her hand in the air, silently telling you to go. You didn’t wait any longer, walking away from her as fast as you could.

“Wait.” She called and you stopped in your tracks. “Your father wants you to do something for him, he wants you to help convince them to abandon their old, heathen beliefs, and start practicing the only good faith. He wants you to take a priest with you next time you go to the settlement and help him settle a mass.”

You looked back, breathing heavily with widened eyes.

“You can go now.” She breathed before leaving, two of the guards with her while the others were still behind you.

You dismissed them with a wave of your hands, they looked at each other but obeyed you. You walked towards your room with a hand on your forehead and a strange feeling on your stomach. It was fear. Fear of the judgment from the people at the settlement, from Ubbe and his family. You locked yourself in your room and leaned against the door, sighing. Your maids knocked right after asking to help you change for sleep, but you were not ready to see anyone, your face still tingling from the slap, worried about what your father might have to talk with Ubbe and how to approach him with your mothers request. Walking from one side of the room to the other, you waited until you heard a soft knock on your door, Ubbe pushed the wood in and entered, looking a little restless.

“Is everything ok?” You asked, looking at him with widened eyes.

“Yeah. With you?” He asked back, closing the door behind him, walking towards the armchair on the corner of the room, starting to untie the straps on his tunic. “You seem uneasy. Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Can I ask you what the king wanted with you this late at night?” You breathed out nervously.

“He wants us to fight for him in Wessex.” He shrugged, taking off his tunic and his boots, your cheeks flushed at his nakedness.

“Fight in Wessex?” You frowned. “What fight in Wessex?”

Ubbe shrugged, crossing the room and sitting at the edge of the bed. You turned to look at him, trying to find the courage to talk, but you just kept looking at him with glossy eyes and a strange expression on your face.

“Come here.” He asked, tapping his side on the bed. You obeyed, sitting with a safe distance between the both of you, he smiled. “Tell me.”

“I don’t know how.” You answered honestly.

“Just tell me.” He tried again and looked away, you didn’t see the frown on his face when raised his hand, softly touching your face and startling you a bit, making you dodge his touch a bit.

“I’m sorry.” You asked, sitting straight and trying not to move away from him again. “Father wants you to let a priest inside the settlement.”

Ubbe looked at you with widened eyes, the bluest pair you ever saw in your life staring blankly at you making you feel sick to your guts.

“I don’t know If Bjorn will agree with that.” He answered softly and you could sense the honesty in his voice.

“You could just… Try to convince him.”

“It’s not easy to convince the king to let a priest inside our settlement… I know what your father is trying to do.”

“I’m sorry… I know… I shouldn’t… I shouldn’t have said anything.”

You got up feeling stupid for even trying, walked towards your dressing table, starting to take off the jewlry you had on you. You stood in front of the mirror and struggled to untie the bodice on your back, Ubbe then got up too, staying behind you on a safe distance, his hands quickly finding the knots on your corset and starting to untie them, you quickly held the front of the garment, your eyes watching his concentrated face on his reflection in the mirror, slightly embarrassed by his proximity. When he finished, his hands quickly found your shoulders and his eyes found yours, a tiny smile on his face when he said softly:

“I’ll talk to him.”

The next morning when you got up, you were alone again but your maids quickly entered, finding you already sitting at your dressing table. After changing into something fresh, you wished to avoid breakfast with your family, but your wishes were cut short when the guards met you in the middle of the corridor outside of your chambers, both of them escorting you to the table where your parents were waiting for you. As you arrived, you were surprised to see Ubbe sitting at his right place, the man smiled at you and stood up as soon as you came, your parents did the same, both of them looked at you with dismayed looks, but didn’t say anything.

“Good morning.” You greeted them softly, keeping your eyes on Ubbe and avoiding your parents accusatory gazes.

“Good morning, princess.” He answered with a smile, taking your hand in his so he could kiss it. You smiled at him accepting his help to sit at the table by his side.

It was a strange feeling meeting your mother after what happened between you two the night before, to avoid her gaze was the only thing you could do at that moment. As you ate in silence, the quietness at the table was feeling heavy between the four of you, the only sounds were the chewing of your father, his heavy breath and eventual coughs.

“Is it already done?” Your father asked all of a sudden, you looked at him with a frown. “The consummation of your marriage.”

Your cheeks flushed immediately, your eyes widened and you almost choked on your own spit.

“Your marital life doesn’t belong to you, I need to know things.” He insisted.

“I thought we had already discussed this, father.” You answered shyly.

“I didn’t believe what you said, but I gave you another night to get on with it.” He drank from his cup before continuing. “But I see your husband is not interested.” His tone was restrained, but you could sense the rage boiling inside him, you knew your father better than anyone. “That is not acceptable.”

“I do not owe anything else than what I already gave you.” You answered softly, eyes on your plate avoiding his angry gaze.

“How dare you talk back to me!” He got up from his seat, pointing his forefinger at you.

“Calm down.” Ubbe growled under his breath, raspy tone catching everybody’s attention, eyes trained on your father, body stiff in his seat.

“Well, she needs to learn how to show respect to her father, that’s what's required from her.” The king growled, this time looking directly at Ubbe.

“Respect is not something you demand, King Aelle. You have to earn.” He finally looked up, but didn’t look at your father, he looked at you.

“What do you mean?” King Aelle asked angrily.

“You know what I mean, your highness.” He mocked.

Suddenly, Ubbe looked at you, you felt when his hand met yours under the table, making you feel strangely safe. He looked on your face for any sign of disapproval, but found nothing, you were rather grateful for him standing up for you at that moment.

“Well It seems like both of you have found something in common.” Your mother said all of a sudden. “That means it won't be a problem to consummate this marriage.”

You felt your stomach twist It again, rage filling your veins while tears gathered in the corner of your eyes. Ashamed, you ran out, leaving everyone behind and marching towards the barn but quickly heard heavy footsteps following you closely. You didn’t bother looking back, intended to keep going when someone held your wrist gently, making you stop in your tracks. You struggled to free yourself from the strong grip, but gave up eventually, finally looking at the person stopping you from moving. Ubbe was there, looking down at you with true concern in his eyes.

“If you came here to-” You started but he interrupted you.

“You didn’t eat.” He said, eyes trained on your face watching the tears running free down your cheeks.

“I-I… I am not hungry.” You stuttered, looking back at him with a confused frown.

“I don’t believe that, don’t lie to me. Last time you ate was last night at the settlement.” He addressed, hand leaving yours to meet up with the other and cup your face.

You swallowed hard, his proximity getting you anxious and self-conscious but not frightened, not in the slightest.

“I am alright, you can go back inside and finish eating.” You murmured, reassuring him.

“How can I sit and feast while you’re out here in pain, my wife?”

The skin on his fingers were rough, calloused, you could feel It on the sides of your face, so different from every other man in Northumbria. There was nothing soft about your husband, not his skin, not his personality, his voice was deep, raspy. Surprisingly enough, you found yourself relishing in that roughness, basking in the way he talked down at you, feeling incredibly small next to him, but feeling strangely safe at the same time.

“Thank you for your concern, my lord.” You mumbled, your hands meeting his wrists. He kept trying to soothe you, wiping your tears away with his thumbs. You took a deep breath. “I didn't mean to leave that way, I was just...” You tried to explain yourself.

“Forget about it, princess.” He assured you. “I am not mad, I have no reason to be mad.” Smiling kindly at you, Ubee pulled your face towards his and left a soft kiss on your forehead.

“Your highness.” You heard the voice of a guard coming from behind you making both you and Ubbe move away from each other and look back. “Your mother asked to see you.”

“Tell her we’ll talk when I come back.” You answered sternly.

“But the queen-” He tried to insist, but you stopped him.

“Tell the queen that I’ll talk to her when I come back.” You repeated, more firmly this time. “You can go now.”

***

#ubbe ragnarsson #ubbe x you #vikings ubbe #ubbe x reader #ubbe smut #ubbe au #ubbe fic #ubbe fanfiction #ubbe fanfic #ubbe imagine #vikings #vikings fic #vikings imagine #vikings au #vikings smut #+18 only #arranged marriage #alternate universe #fanfiction

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axelsagewrites · 1 month

Note

wWoohooo open requests ❤️❤️❤️Could you maybe create something for Ubbe or Bjorn form the Vikings series?

Ubbe Ragnarsson*Meet Me Where We Met

Pairing: ubbe x f!reader

Word count: 1602

Warnings: hunting animals, fluff

Masterlist here

Ubbe loved his brothers in the weird way his family did but even he needed a break from them. the issue was there was few places to be alone in Kattegat. One particular eventful dinner had Ubbe excusing himself to take a walk which ended up taking him deeper into the forest than usual.

He wasn’t worried though. He knew these woods like the back of his hands. As Ubbe sighed and settled down to sit on a fallen tree a twig snapping had his head snapping up. It was probably just a rabbit but still he reached for the handle of his dagger when he realised the sun was setting.

Then there was a whoosh of leaves. Ubbe was ready to pull his dagger out when the rabbit ran out from behind a tree, straight across from where he sat. Ubbe almost laughed at himself, but his smile fell when the arrow hit the rabbit.

He hadn’t even seen the bow that fired it, but he was on his feet. “Who’s there?”

“Shh,” a voice hushed him from the trees.

Ubbe whipped around, looking to see where it had come from, but the voice seemed to mix with the wind. He turned and saw a deer, standing still, eyes dancing with fear.

Then the next arrow came. The deer hit the ground before it could run. Ubbe pulled the dagger from his belt just as a person walked out from amongst the trees. you were holding a bow out in front of them, their spare hand in the air empty. “I didn’t mean to startle you,”

The cloak you were wearing was a mix of dark greens and blacks. With your hood up and a black fabric wrapped across the lower half of your face it was no wonder he hadn’t seen you.

“Put the bow down,” Usually he figured himself a good one on one fighter, but he didn’t need to see what else you could do with a bow. You threw it forward, dropping it at his feet before reaching up to pull the fabric around your face down.

What he really hadn’t expected was to find you so attractive. Now he could see you it was clear to him how beautiful you were as you lowered your hood. But there was something else, “You look familiar,”

“I live in Kattegat. Perhaps you have seen me around now,” you said, walking towards the rabbit near his feet, “Would you mind putting your own weapon down?”

Ubbe could feel his cheeks heat up when he realised, he was still in a protective stance. He quickly stashed the dagger back in his belt. he watched as you picked it up and took out the arrow before tossing it into a bag on your side. “Quite the hunter I see,” he said, nodding towards the full bag by your side.

“Someone has to do it,” you said as you walked to the deer and crouched down.

Ubbe followed you over, grabbing your bow so it didn’t get lost. “You don’t enjoy it?”

You paused for a moment, “I enjoy the quiet. Being alone. Being able to not have to think. I don’t enjoy killing them,”

It was an odd thing for Ubbe to hear. Everyone in his family seemed to enjoy killing and hated the idea of quiet. “Sorry if I ruined your peace,”

“Nah,” you grinned up at him, a quality he founded oddly endearing, “I’ll forgive you if you help me carry this back,”

Ubbe grinned right back at you, “You drive a hard bargain,” he said as he crouched down across from you. “I never got your name,”

“You never asked,”

“I’m Ubbe,”

“(Y/N),”

The next day Ubbe went on another walk to the same spot, sat on the same fallen tree, and waited. It was on his walk back he realised how foolish he was. Of course, you would not be in the same spot twice. But how else was he to find you? When you arrived back to Kattegat last night a man you claimed as your brother saw you and took over for Ubbe to carry it home since the sun was long gone.

Still Ubbe went back each day just encase. He enjoyed the quiet of it all. He found himself able to relax for the first time in a while as he sat on that tree. it had been a week since he had saw you, so he almost didn’t recognise you at the market.

Your hair wasn’t braided back out of your face. It was left mostly loose with small braids throughout. Your dress was red and would never be able to blend with the trees. But one thing was the same.

“Ubbe,” you grinned, that same smile as before. You greeted him as he walked up to your stall at the market. It was mainly animal skins and pelts with a few other items scattered around.

“I was starting to think you were avoiding me,” he said, chuckling to try make it sound like a joke, but the thought had crossed his mind, “You’re a hard person to track down,”

A smirk tugged at your lips, “I try. Anything take your fancy?” you asked.

Ubbe looked over the table, wondering how many nights it took you to gather these all. One caught his eye in particular, “Is that our deer?” he asked, pointing to the skin.

“Our deer? If I remember correctly my arrow killed it,”

“I helped you carry it back,” he countered, “Don’t I at least get a discount for that?” he teased as he leaned over the table. You pretended to think about it before shaking your head.

“Ten silver for the pelt,” you told him. Ubbe went to reach for his money, but you continued, “Or eight if you help me hunt tonight,”

“Ah so I did help?” he teased.

You rolled your eyes, “Not even slightly. But the company was not bad,”

Ubbe shook his head at you, grinning like a fool as he pulled out the silver, “eight it is,”

“Meet me where we met?” you offered as Ubbe rolled up the deer hide.

“You mean where you almost killed me?”

“Honey if I wanted to kill you, you’d be dead,”

There was no reason for Ubbe to feel so nervous as he sat and waited. You told him you’d meet him after supper, but time was marching on. Maybe he was in the wrong spot? Or maybe he was too early or-

“Boo,” you said, leaning down next to his ear.

“What the fuck!” Ubbe screamed, jumping up off the log as you began to cackle. His shoulders relaxed when he saw it was you, but he still was panting out of breath, “Don’t do that,”

“Did you not hear me?”

“Clearly not!”

“Alright I’m sorry,” you laughed, stepping over the log to sit on it.

Ubbe finally regained himself before turning to you with a confused look. “Where’s your bow?”

“Eh, thought I’d give myself the night off,” you said before looking between him and the tree log, “You wanna sit?”

“So how come you wanted to meet me?” he asked, moving to sit beside you.

The way his blue eyes bore into you with such confusion and hope made it hard to look back at them. “Don’t know really. Just thought it would be nice. The quiet you know?”

“You invited me to come sit in silence with you?” he asked, an eyebrow raised and a smile on his lips.

You felt yourself becoming unexplainably shy under his gaze, “We don’t have to be silent the whole time,”

“It’s alright,” he said, settling into his seat, “We can just sit for a while,”

So, you did. For a good hour you sat silently beside each other, at some point moving to rest your head on his shoulder and his on your head, just enjoying each other’s company. After a while though you began to make small talk.

The small talk did not last for very long though. You moved from topics of how many siblings to venting to each other. You told him about how much you hated hunting, how you only did it to survive, how you’d rather farm instead. He told you about his brothers, how loud they were, how aggressive they were, how much he longed for a quiet evening.

“I love them, I do I just- “

“Don’t like them sometimes? I get that,” you said, turning to face him, a task that was far less daunting now.

Ubbe turned away though, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, “I shouldn’t be putting this on you,”

“I don’t mind,” you said, leaning forward to force him to look at you, a small smile on your lips, “Sometimes its nice just to talk,”

“I’ve never been good at it. the whole talking thing. Its easier to just accept things. it’s not like they’ll change,”

“You never know. Besides,” you said nudging his knee with your own, “I like when you talk. It’s good to talk about these things. honestly until this tonight I think I was slowly losing my mind,” you laughed.

Ubbe chuckled as well, “I get that. trust me,” he paused as he looked into your eyes. You were both silent again, a smile on both your lips.

“I should probably go back soon,” your words made his heart drop, but he did his best to conceal it, “Will you meet me again tomorrow?” and just as quickly it fluttered again.

“I’d love to,”

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

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lokifromvalhalla · 1 year

Text

A nice punishment

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

Ivar The Boneless x [gender neutral] Reader Genre: Smut / Comfort Words: ± 2 100 Kind of content: Oral fixation / Nipple play

Playing with his chest does get Ivar to shut up for a little. It feels way better than it should.

Not proofread! Sorry for any mistake!

╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝

“How many times do I have to tell you?” You sighed as your hands ran across his warm back, feeling every muscle and the bump of every scar under your fingertips. That was something you had done so many times already that you almost memorized his whole back, always knowing if there was any new scar, as small as it could be.

Ivar scoffed, his back vibrating with each word. “And what do you want me to do? Simply not go anywhere? Just sit here like your little doll, is it?” Of course he would be dramatic, twist your words just so you could feel guilty and let him do whatever he wanted, but you already had a resistance to his whining just like Ubbe and Hvitserk, even if it wasn’t as strong. Dealing with Ivar wasn’t any new to you; you were there long before Ragnar returned, then with him when Ragnar came back and took him to England, helped avenge his father’s death, and now dominate York.

The flames from the torches hanging from the stone walls illuminated the room. Ivar had taken over the cathedral so he could establish his base, and used one of the main rooms—probably the bishop's—for himself. It was wide, rather luxurious, as a noble's place. In the first days, you would just hang around the room, but with how he kept asking you to help him with massages or undoing his braces until late at night, now it was also yours.

Today was something like this. A long day of unnecessary efforts and blueish eyes by the morning had Ivar’s muscles protesting in pain, so you were there once again, your hands rubbing oil against his rough skin in an attempt to help him despite all the complaints. He did appreciate what you were doing, though. You knew it was some sort of facade because, even between four walls and a closed door, Ivar still had to keep his goddamn posture at least in a few points to ‘keep you humble’. As if you couldn’t shape him exactly the way you wanted, just like Ubbe would do with his younger brothers sometimes.

“It wouldn’t be a bad idea,” you chuckled against his skin and pressed a kiss to the back of his ear. “My pretty little doll, all for me to use, hm?”

Ivar was silent for a moment, choking on his own words to the same level his cheeks heated up, just seconds before he was turning around and throwing his hands in the air. “What do you think you’re saying? I’m going to feed you flaming hot iron if you keep it like this!”

Another chuckle escaped your lips as you pushed him to face forward again. “And what?” You pulled him against you so his back met your chest instead. “Lose your best warrior? Best strategist? I don’t think you could handle even a day without me, knowing I’m not coming back,” you mumbled, chin over his shoulder and arms under his whilst watching your hands work against his ribs, slowly going up.

Whatever was going on in Ivar’s mind, vanished at the moment your hands started running over his chest. Instead, there were only quiet and incoherent grumbles that you could barely make out. “(Y/n), what...” His words trailed off, breath caught in his throat—he tried to fight against the will to arch his back at the feeling of your fingers tracing his nipples, running around them until they were hard. "Wh..."

"I'm just doing the massage you asked for," you scoffed, hands going down his torso just to come up and stop right under his pecs, proceeding to go up slowly. Ivar hissed at the friction as he arched his back; his hands tugged a little on the sheets before they found their way to your thighs, hence his nails sank into the skin messily in an attempt to both ground himself and warn you. Fruitlessly, of course. "How was your day, Ivar? You just mentioned why you're in so much pain, but never really told me what happened while I was gone.”

“Quit playing.”

“I asked you a question.” The weight in your voice had him shutting up for a moment, though the silence was quickly broken by a moan. Your fingers pinched his nipple, and it shouldn’t feel so good.

Ivar sucked in a breath, at first just spitting out stutters until the way you squeezed his pec had him speaking. “I—I was training, but then got... got in a fight.”

Got in a fight? You clicked your tongue. “Ivar. You woke up with blue-ish eyes, why would you even do that?” It was entertaining to watch how sensitive he was, slowly starting to squirm just because of his chest being fondled.

An indignant gasp came from Ivar, but he paused for a moment; his head leaned back against your shoulder for a moment while his hand adjusted against your thigh. “No...! I couldn’t let that happen! H—He was challenging me! Provoking!” His voice cracked once you pinched his nipple, playing with it between your index finger and your thumb, daring to give it an experimental tug. A louder gasp escaped his lips, back arched against you.

Oh, the old discourse about how a cripple can’t rule properly, you thought. It was already getting annoying to deal with.

“Of course, you ignored everything,” you mumbled, continuing to pinch his nipple, though now also doing the same to the other, and it was enough to start reducing him to pieces—the already uneven breathing lost its pace completely while his fingers trying to grip onto your skin however they could, almost having him throw his hips in the air in search for friction. “and grabbed your little sword so you’d kill the poor man.”

“Not a poor man!” Ivar growled. “He dared to doubt... of one of the sons...” He never finished his sentence, words lost into the dark corners of the room once you let go of him so you could get off your position. “Hey! What are you doing?” The blue irises were nothing but thin rings around the dilated pupils that observed you in desire.

Your chuckle had his eyebrows lowering, mouth pursing. “I thought you didn’t like it?” You raised an eyebrow, moving around until you straddled his thighs, pushing him back against the pillows. Whatever answer he had on the tip of his tongue, it died down with the way you parted his legs with a knee, carefully, instead earning yourself a glare, but it would take a lot more to discourage you. His hips were warm under your hands as you held onto them while leaning down to press kisses to his neck, sometimes nibbling on the skin. “You complain so much, sometimes I don’t know whether it’s real or not. How do you feel being so annoying?”

“I think that you should shut the fuck up before getting yourself killed.” Empty words, of course. Ivar liked the teasing, if anything. In contrast to his words, his arms wrapped around your shoulders at the same time he threw his head back into the pillows to grant you more access.

You breathed a chuckle against his skin, feeling it rise with a shiver according to how you trailed down. “Oh, honey, you still insist on tricking yourself that you can live without me? Pitiful.”

It was fun to tease Ivar then silence him, watch the frustration build up in groans and quiet complaints, his nails sometimes pressing into your skin a little too hard. He was once again silenced, letting out a hum instead at how your lips worked on a spot some inches down his collarbones, sucking and nibbling on the skin until a purple spot was left behind. You knew he had some sort of sensitivity when it came to his chest, but you never knew it was that great until you decided to start exploring it that night; it probably was greater that time, given how long he had gone without being touched like that.

The way he shuddered and breathed shakily just because of how your tongue ran flat over his nipple was truly rewarding. You did it once more, this time snatching a moan that extended itself by how his crotch found a nice source of friction when meeting your thigh on the way once it pushed up. Your grip on his hips didn’t really prevent him from moving, more of guiding his movements and limiting his freedom.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if you came untouched,” you mention. You could taste the light herbal taste of the oil on your tongue—it wasn’t bad, actually.

Ivar clicked his tongue, glancing down at you with a glare that would’ve made anyone else start praying for their life, but not you. Never you. That look didn’t give you anything more than entertainment. “Do you wish to die?”

“To kill you would be fun, actually.” A grin tugged on your lips, easily having Ivar more flustered. He wasn’t in position to criticize anything anymore, nor had enough coherent thoughts for it; he just turned his head away instead.

At first, soft kisses surrounded his nipple, soon being replaced by your teeth softly tugging on the skin, and there it was—whines spilled from his mouth with every nib until he clasped a hand over his own mouth in an attempt to muffle his sounds. It had you pausing, taking a moment to observe his messy form. Sweat had some of his hair strands stuck to his forehead, skin already flush and glistening softly under the dancing light of the flames. His chest heaved up and down with the deep sharp inhales.

The lack of interaction had Ivar’s eyes slowly turning to look at you, and that fucking deathly gaze had something stirring in your lower stomach.

“I wanna hear you,” you finally said, pressing a kiss to his fingers before you started to tug his hand away from his face, finally kissing his lips instead. His hands somehow felt in the way of something, something he didn’t know, but it still didn’t really feel right to just grip onto the sheets while you worked on him. He whined softly against your lips, kissing back with little care because all that mattered was how good you treated him, nibbling on his lips and letting your tongue meet his.

His back started arching once you started trailing down his neck once again, this time starting to nibble on the area around his nipple right away, this time working on the opposite one, with your hands back around his hips, tightly. “Fuck,” he whispered softly, voice tight in his throat, soon replaced by a moan. Your lips wrapped around his nipple to suck softly on it until he was arching his back and fighting against your hands, so you’d change to running your tongue flat against the nub instead.

It was slow and agonizing. Every single time the feeling would start to take over Ivar, erase the thoughts away from his head and have his eyes rolling back, you were there to pull him down, ground him again. Ivar crashed back into reality with quiet complaints and groans that only motivated you to continue, even if your lips would be left sore later. Then, there it was, finally. This time, you weren’t pulling away at the moment his hips started pushing up; you continued to suck on his nipple, even letting your teeth tug on it, and he wasn’t even that restrained anymore, with one of your hands letting go of him to instead fondle with the opposite side of his chest.

A string of curses escaped Ivar’s lips, though soon interrupted by the lack of air in his lungs, his teeth gritted and eyes pressed shut. His hips dragged slowly against your thigh, sending sparkles up his body and down again, right to his lower stomach. His shorter breaths had each time more space between them, as if just breathing would drive his focus away from his release, but then, there it was; a long moan was drawn from his lips at the same moment he finally came. As much as you wanted to see the face he was making, it seemed more of an advantage to continue messing with him until he was squirming, on the edge of oversensitivity.

You pressed a kiss to the bright red skin before you finally brought yourself up to look at him. He had his eyes shut, mouth moving lightly in inaudible mumbles to himself until he opened one eye lazily to observe you.

“You good, love?”

Ivar nodded lightly. “Do you need me to...?”

“No, no.” You shook your head and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “For the gods, Ivar,” you chuckled, “look at you. Came untouched, in your pants!” And just a few words had the haze that took over him fading away, replaced by his usual annoyance, curses and threats that escaped his lips seemingly unstoppingly.

#fan fic #fan fiction #ivar lothbrok #ivar the boneless #x reader #x male reader #x female reader #gender neutral #vikings #writing #ubbe ragnarsson #bjorn ironside #hvitserk lothbrok #ragnar lothbrok

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