#ubbe x oc

[ritual-unions]

Gatekeeper

Pairing: Ubbe x OFC

Warnings: NSFW, explicit

Word count: 4k

Setting: season 6ish, Kattegat

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

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

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

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

Hvitserk was mostly to blame for it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ver.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

He would never hear the end of this.

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

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

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

“You disobeyed me, Verdandi.”

“He is my brother.”

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

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

“What did he say?”

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

“Torfinn will not see reason.”

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

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

“Yes,” he sneered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Torvi.”

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

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

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

The silence deepened further.

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

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

They were alone.

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

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

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

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

No, he had commanded it. As king.

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

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

“I had no choice.”

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

She had chosen to disobey him.

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

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

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

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

She moved to stand.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where are you going?” She demanded.

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

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

****

masterlist to see almost everything I have written

#vikings fanfiction #ubbe x oc #ubbe fanfiction #vikings history channel #vikings #vikings fandom #ubbe smut #vikings smut

[sigridsdottir]

Reflecting, on him & I [ubbe fic]

Ubbe's wife watches him from the window, playing with their children. She cannot help but reflect on what he means to her.

I admired Ubbe. 

I watched his braid dance in the air as he played with our children in the sand. The sun shining, a gentle zephyr, calm sea. 

When I gave birth, crying out in ancient female pain, he was there. And when the midwife pulled out our baby to reveal a daughter, his eyes glistened with tears. Tears of joy. 

And the same with our son. 

He took pride in them, and spent the days teaching them things. How to find the fullest berry bush in the woods, how to carve the sharpest arrows, how to sing Nordic songs. But he worried for them, too. He feared the day of our son’s first raid. He feared that men would covet our daughter.

These are the things he would tell me before we slept at night. We laid together each night, and I traced his cheekbones, like knives, lit by moonlight. He held me closely to him, his arms unyielding but delicate.

I was drawn to him when I was young. He was Prince, and I was invisible. I feared that I would remain so forever. 

Until one day. I was carrying a bucket of water, on top of my head, when I tripped. It came crashing down, turning the dirt to mud and soaking my dress. Hot tears of frustration rushed to my eyes. But before I could weep-

“Do you need help?” A voice asked.

He stood there in front of me. Blue eyes staring into mine, quizzically. 

After a beat, he nodded to himself. “I’ll get you water.” 

What… the fuck… is happening? 

He picked the bucket from the fresh mud and headed off. 

Nearly every day after that, he appeared. Flowers in a bundle on my doorstep. Wolf skins, for warmth. Skeins of the softest yarn. A teasing flirt. A thoughtful conversation. A kiss.

Eventually, we married. All the sudden, I was the most visible woman in Kattegat. And these moments, at the end of our days, when we lay alone together, became precious.

I stare into his oceanic eyes, stormy as seas, clear as skies. I smell his scent, wild like the woods. I touch his face, scarred skin soothing at my caress. I feel his body pressed against mine, his heat welcome in the winter. His rough palms lay on my stomach, where I have held his children. His soft lips kiss my cheek and his beard tickles my neck. He whispers things in my ear. That he loves me, that the gods made me with him in mind.

I admire Ubbe for he is good and kind, but he does not bend to the will of any man. I must be favored by some god, for Ubbe is the man who rocks me in his arms, night after night.

#this is my first fic! ahh #pls be nice #its kind of mush because thats how looking at ubbe makes me feel #ubbe ragnarsson #ubbe x oc #ubbe x reader #vikings imagines #vikings fanfic #mywork

[collecting-stories]

Oceans - Ubbe Ragnarsson

Summary: Ubbe stumbles upon a person in the woods.

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

Vikings Masterlist

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We are already on our way.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You refuse it?” 

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

#ubbe x reader #ubbe x oc #ubbe x you #ubbe x y/n #ubbe imagine #ubbe ragnarsson imagine #ubbe fanfic #ubbe one shot #ubbe fic #ubbe fanfiction #ubbe ragnarsson fanfic #ubbe ragnarsson fic #ubbe lothbrok imagine #ubbe ragnarsson x reader #ubbe ragnarsson x you #ubbe ragnarsson x y/n #ubbe lothbrok x you #ubbe lothbrok x reader #ubbe lothbrok x y/n #vikings imagine #vikings fanfiction #vikings fanfic #vikings fic #collecting stories imagine

[mamaskullz]

:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:✦:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:

┊┋ Pairing: Ubbe x OC

┊┋ Series Summary: "I see you'll create a

┊┋legacy and when you knew your end is

┊┋coming, that’s when you start lacking

┊┋in the one wish you desired the most

┊┋because of your adventurous ways”,

┊┋the tone in the childs voice as she

┊┋spoke to the great Ragnar with the

┊┋winds flowing through her silver black

┊┋hair that would gently swiftly moves in

┊┋the wind with the hues of her white like

┊┋grey slate eyes knowing her destiny

┊┋would soon start dealing with the sons

┊┋of Ragnar.

┊┋ Notes: Tw:

┊┋ 686 Words Count

┊┋ Masterlist

:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:✦:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:

As the day crossed while the ravens squalled in their morning routine, a woman walked out of her cobblestone little cottage and proceeded to her daily routine wearing a strap dress with an undergarment that was fitted to her curves-like shape body as her animal hide tunic wrapped around her shoulder strap as well.

☽☾☽☾

The young assiduous woman came to a halt when the presence of a familiar figure came upon her approach he, with her doe eyes from her white like grey slate hue eyes as her demure state fell upon seeing the great himself, Ragnar. "You were just a little kid, Skuld Draugr", the great Viking king spoke towards her as she stood there with her taciturn nature like always to amaze the Viking Ragnar.

☽☾☽☾

"What has become of who was once the youthful, strong who now become the old and lost Ragnar Lothbrok", as the words fell from her pink perched lips with a voice that was seraphic with a rasp that soothes a person's ears she looked at the old man who she once had an encounter with long ago in her youthful as a child.

☽☾☽☾

"I believed at a time when I first encountered a child in the woods with a basket filled with herbs who still had that taciturn and demure fearless nature told me once that as I grew my legacy there will be a time when my journey comes to an end is when i lack the one wish i desired", Ragnar spoke with his bearded lips while coming close towards skuld as she stood still watching him, listening to the words she once told him when she was a child. "Your death is nearing Ragnar Lothbrok, where you will be greeted by the Valkyries who will take you home as they summon you", She spoke yet again knowing it was time for his offspring to continue a family legacy...

☽☾☽☾

As a flock of ravens flies around squalling as Skuld looks at the ravens her eyes set upon a man with runes embedded in his skin with one eye out of the socket wearing a black linen cloak with raven feathers covered around it appears in her sight speaking "The embodiment of the goddess of fate, and the skilled strength of a Valkyrie with the dark petrified aura of a Draugr... its time to prepare the journey of a great embark of your own for the offspring of Ragnar Lothbrok will need your presence and strength, Skuld Draugr", hearing his voice who was deep-toned and groggy she knew it was time for the one who spoke to her was none other than Odin himself who appeared in her vision, as kept looking coming back to reality seeing where Odin was standing was not there no more and the ravens was no more to be seen, as that was the sign that it was time for her journey to begin...

☽☾☽☾

Skuld Draugr was none like no shieldmaiden or no Viking but yet had the skill of a Valkyrie warrior, her mother was gifted by the gods to give such a daughter with the beauty of skin that color was different from the rest as her white-like grey slate eyes, as Skuld was set out to be Odin's Valkyrie, that in death she will be welcomed upon her fellow Valkyries. But as she grows, she encounters the great king Ragnar who she sees in her visions as a seer seeing what future lies in his paths and that it is she who will give her presence upon his offspring when they grow up into young adults, given shes slight younger than Bjorn but older than Ubbe, Hvitserk, Sigurd, and Ivar...

☽☾☽☾

"You are not like any woman I have encountered with such skills like yours" " The Eldest Son of Ragnar and Queen Aslaug spoke with such compassion in his voice that made Skuld grow a smile with her heart beating not knowing what's become over her. Until the visions leave the woman with her eyes slowly opening having a feeling that this journey is going to be difficult...

A/N: Sorry if the prologue was small…

#vikings #vikings imagine #black writers #x reader #ubbe x reader #ivar ragnarsson #ubbe ragnarsson #ubbe fanfiction #ubbe imagine #vikings history #vikings x you #vikings x reader #vikings ubbe #Ubbe x oc #ubbe lothbrok #hvitserk #sigurd #sigurd snake in the eye #sigurd x reader #hvitserk ragnarsson #sigurd snake in the eye x reader #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless #ivar imagine

[mrgabel]

Cover art for "Sleepy Mornings" by @ritual-unions for @vikingsbigbang

When I first read the title and then the draft I knew precisely that I wanted to draw a cover artwork in an Art Nouveau style, incorporating the title within the composition, but without neglecting to preserve the atmosphere and feeling I got while I was reading.

It was a joy to draw something for the Vikings fandom again, since this was one of the first fandoms I joined here on tumblr, and I will always remember it fondly.

Head on over to ao3 to read it now :D

#ubbe ragnarsson #winnifred #ubbe x oc #vikings #history vikings #vikingsbigbangwinter22 #vbbw22 #vikings big bang #ritual-unions

[golddaggers]

wherever you stray (i follow)

pairing: ubbe x you; dad!ubbe x daughter!oc

warnings: pretty much nsfw, fingering, sex, bit of nursing kink, ubbe being the sweetest dad ever

a/n: this was fun to write, came a bit out of nowhere to be honest. hope y'all like it!! leth x

word count: 2,7k+

Rain spatters against the fogged-up windows. A soft tap tap tap that is more delicate than harsh, but it wakes you up regardless. You palm the left side of your bed. It is a blind search for the welcoming warmth of his body, though all you can find is a vacant slot. Long cold. 

From the living room, you hear the dying creep of the fireplace. The crib, a wooden piece of furniture he had built months before you gave birth, was just as empty. You force yourself to sit upright, to look for him and the teeny babe around the room. Both are nowhere to be seen.

It wasn’t unusual for them to be gone in the middle of the night. Ubbe would tend to her if you were too deep into your sleep, which often happened. He wasn’t one to mind the late rousing. A nocturnal creature, that man. 

You wrap yourself with one of the furs, still yawning, and get out of bed. It doesn’t take long for you to find them. He's sitting back on a chair. Tove sucked her little thumb, her fierce blue eyes glued to her dada. A small part of you envied the way your daughter seemed to worship her father, even having been recently born. She would squirm, whine, and beg for the comfort of his arms. 

The midwife's announcement that you had birthed a gorgeous little girl had stuck you with concern. Part of you wondered if you would think less of her. If he would disregard this baby, a baby you spent weeks creating in the comfort of your womb, because he wanted a son. A boy to follow his steps. 

Ubbe surprised you, eyes gleaming with tears. He not only acknowledged her but adored his firstborn. 

Tove hiccups and he bounces her, humming some old tale in a rasp of a voice. Your chest swells with contentment. You're so lost in emotion you don’t realise he’s noticed your presence. A gentle smile grows on his face as he beckons you to come to him, the girl happily settled on one arm. 

“She was fussing,” Ubbe explains, once you, too, are comfortable on his lap. “Didn’t want to wake you up, sweetness.”

“You didn’t.” You stroke her ruddy, chubby cheek, your head falling to the side to lean against your husband’s. “Are you hungry, elsk? Do you want momma’s boob?” 

“Since you’re offering,” He quips, his arms wrapping around you as you take the babe into your arms, her soft warm face nuzzling to the plush of your breasts. “Why did you wake up, hmm? It’s too early.”

“Can’t sleep too long if you’re not in bed with me.” You shrug as you push the linen sleeve down to free your breast. The hungry lips of your daughter are quick to begin sucking, her tiny hand on your chest. “She needed to eat anyway.” 

“Are you comfortable? We could go back to bed, and you could lie down on the bed while she eats.” 

“Hmm, too far now… Maybe you could lean back and spread your legs, and I’ll get between them.”

“Last time I said that, well, we made this little thing,” Ubbe chuckles, kissing the skin of your neck. “Miss you, lovely, so much…”

You stifle a groan as you slide down from his thigh to sit between his legs, your back flush with his chest. Tove whines, but goes back to her supper, her eyes flickering between opened and closed. She would be sleeping soon, you could tell. Midnight feeds were growing rarer as she began to sleep through the night.

Ubbe begins to rub your arms, his nose trailing up from the juncture of your neck up to the shell of your ear. A little noise seeps, and you close your eyes to enjoy. His beard pinches your skin while his lips bite and suck. 

“Stop…” You whisper. “Not fair to me.”

“How is it fair to me that I have to control myself when you have your tits out?”

“I’m feeding your daughter.” 

“She’s already asleep,” He points out, her little mouth still sucking out of habit rather than hunger. “Why don’t we take her back to her crib, and I can work to put her momma back to sleep, too?” 

You roll your eyes as you pull Tove to rest her cheek on your chest, patting her back to help her burp. She stirs to spit, then goes back to a peaceful sleep. Ubbe scoops her away from your arms, standing back on his feet much more gracefully than you could ever do. She doesn’t even flinch, her round cheek smashed against his shoulder, little fingers giving the linen shirt mindless squeezes. 

He leaves you alone in the living room. It’s warm and cosy. You feel like lying back on the floorboards to enjoy the easy silence, which you do. Eyes closed with a bubbly smile. You don’t bother fixing up the neckline of your slip or hiking down the hem of the skirt. 

Your arms are splayed out. You’d have fallen asleep if Ubbe hadn’t snuck between your legs, his face pressed up against your inner thigh. 

Ubbe is a handsome man. In a way you expect someone to be. When your parents told you he'd be the one you’d marry, you were happy about the prospect. Though everyone spoke of his kindness, you still feared his lack of gentleness. Before being a man, he was Viking. A battlefield weapon made to maim and kill. You'd watched him split open someone's back with a satisfied smile. 

With you, there was never such a thing as him being rough. Even in the darkest times, the fights, the mistakes, he would never mistreat you. He would never speak an ill word meant to break your heart. Perhaps it was why you grew to love him so. To need him like flowers need the spring, or the seas need boats. 

“Too tired, sweetness?”

You huff out a sigh. 

“Let’s go to bed, you need to sleep.”

On your elbows, you eye him, a hint of amusement in your features. “I thought you’d put me to sleep.”

Ubbe laughs then, kissing the nearest patch of skin as a forewarning to the sinking of his teeth. You shiver, your toes curling while anticipation trickled like alcohol drops in the fire gathering in your lower belly. 

“How do you want me, wife? Want my lips? My fingers? My cock?”

“Mmhm,” It’s a purr-like noise. Your hands reach for his hair. “Want it all.”

“Greedy little thing,” He muses, “We can’t, don’t have enough time. Tove will wake you up in a few hours to eat."

"But Ubbe..." You whine.

"If I could choose it, I would spend the next hours with my face buried between your legs. Only then I would take you, hard, the way you like it, on your belly, your face pressed to the floor.”

“Fuck, Ubbe…” The pulsing grows to aching, your hips bucking against him. “Want you to take me. It’s been so long… All we get to do is fingers and mouth, I want you inside me. Want you to put another baby inside of my belly.”

Ubbe growls, a drawn-out sound that makes you slick with dripping want. He pushes up your slip, tearing it out of you, a soft ripping sound when it passes over your arms and head. You’re bare in front of him, spread open with nothing left unsaid. Your husband watches you as a hunter watches their prey. 

Your eyes roll when his hand find the crest of your sex, the pad of his thumb pressing down on your clit. 

“You’re so wet already, sweetness.” He pushes two fingers inside, reaping a sound that was a little too loud. “If you keep making those noises, you’ll wake up our daughter. You have to be quiet, darling, can’t make a peep when I make you come around my cock.”

You bite your bottom lip hard when he pulls out the fingers and stuffs them into his mouth, grunting at the taste. Gods, this man had fucking ruined you.

Ubbe pushes down his breeches and parts your legs further apart. He spits on his hand to fist himself, and the image makes your tummy flutter. It always feels like the first time, the giddy excitement, the adrenaline that makes your heart pump faster. 

He slides the fat head of his cock up and down your cunt, tantalisingly. You want to scream out. You want to beg him to take you, eyes welling up with tears. A desperate whimper is all you manage to spit out, and you're lucky Ubbe is compliant, sinking in with one snap of the hips. 

It had been a while since he last took you, so to have him again was an adjustment. He grunted, ravenous lips leaning in to suck on your neck. To be with him was addictive. A high that no alcohol could provide. A high no other man could take you to, just him. 

“Fuck’s sake,” He curses. “You feel so good. So fucking good.”

One of your hands sneaks between you to where you’re connected, trembling as it finds the sore swell of your clit. You wouldn’t last long if your life depended on it, not when you felt the rush of warmth flooding down and he was yet to do anything.

It’s a deliberate, slow motion. He pulls back out, dives back in, an iron grip on your hips to pin them down. You missed this. The feral noises, the animal caged inside being let loose. Each fuck a bit harder, less tamed, intenser, stronger. It leaves a burning trail in its wake, but you relish it, whining as you grab onto him to try and ground yourself. 

His lips find one of your dripping nipples, and when his hot tongue circles around the tender skin, you can swear you’re seeing stars. You’re too sensitive, too built up. The pressure from his hips isn’t helping. Neither is the stretch when he forces one leg to go higher, almost on his shoulder. Ubbe angles just right at that sweet spot that gets you reaching for anything to squeeze.

Lost between the daze of the constant jerk of his hips and his mouth on your nipple like he’s gulping down the sweetest of meads, you break. You arch your back so much, that he loses balance, laughing as his weight temporarily crushes you. 

You shake, and bite down on his shoulder so hard you can taste the iron flavour of his blood on the tip of your tongue. You’re a mess of limbs, tangled together while the pleasure washes over you. His lips find yours, a kiss that’s anything but peaceful. Teeth and saliva and tongues. 

Ubbe goes on a while longer, beseeching. Words slip out to be muffled by your mouth, words that aren’t meant to be meaningful. His noises are harsh and rough, a beast in the flesh of a human. 

His fingers dig into the soft skin of your right leg when he comes, your name like a chant. You pull him down to silence him, taking all the ruts he’s got to give you, thighs wrapped around him, the heels of your feet forcing him deeper. 

You’re somewhat aware of the sweat, that the living room now feels like a small sauna, but you can’t find it in you to mind. 

He laughs before he bends to kiss your forehead. A brush of lips so quick you almost miss it, gentle and warm. 

The flutter of summer air in the dying of the day. 

“I’m going to need to carry you, won’t I?”

A tired sigh fills the silence. You are exhausted and in need of your bed sheet’s comfort. Your eyelids droop and you blink to try and stay awake.

“Come on, sweetness, let’s get you to bed.”

Ubbe rolls off of you, and his cum dribbles down, sticking to your inner thighs. You are hot, and sluggish when he scoops you up soon after. One arm draped around your back while the other went under your kne to take you back to the bedroom. 

The white slip is left forgotten on the ground, a small souvenier so you can remember it happened in the morning. Not that the burn between your legs wouldn’t keep it fresh in your mind. 

“Love you.” The words slip out so mellow that you hide your face on his chest.

“You love my cock,” Ubbe jokes, his lips curving into a playful smirk as he pressed them to your forehead. “And you’re sleep-drunk.”

“Don’t be silly,” You whine when he tries to move away from you after he’s settled you under the comfort of the furs. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

He sneaks beneath to wrap himself around you, a strong arm curled on your waist, his nose buried in the crook of your neck. Only then do you fall back asleep. Gentle and easy.

#ubbe smut #vikings ubbe #ubbe x reader #ubbe x oc #ubbe ragnarsson #jordan patrick smith #ubbe x you #ubbe fanfiction

[solioquyforme]

Aftermath of Ubbe and Lhyrie’s spar. In the days after, she trains more with Lagertha and gets help from an unexpected guest. Ubbe spends his days with Alfred. Lhyrie treats a patient.

This chapter came together much too quickly. That’s what you get with sleeping issues.

#ubbe ragnarsson #fanfiction #vikings tv #au #fanfic #ubbe #mine #Ubbe x oc #Alfred #ao3 #lagertha and Heahmund in this chapter too #I need to stop writing this so fast #I’m not usually this fast #you need pants is probs my fav

[doctorwhoandfairytaillover]

Recuerdo

Summary:  Ubbe wasn't sure what he was expecting when he went to Mexico, and he certainly didn't think that he would fall in love with both a girl and the culture at the same time. When Xochilt comes into his life, the last thing he expected was that there would have to be a choice between family and love

AN: Thanks a bunch @vikingstrash for being patient with me and making the really great dividers and moodboards, and hope y’all enjoy this as I might write a series for these two.

Ubbe hadn’t really meant to learn Spanish.

When he and his younger brothers were still in high school, Hvitserk had chosen to sign up for a pen pal program in the school that was aimed at improving the student’s language skills. Needless to say, Hvitserk didn’t learn much Spanish while he was in school, it wouldn’t be until he was in university that he would even learn any of the language but to avoid his brother failing, Ubbe learned the language on his brother’s behalf. Looking back, perhaps it would have been better to let Hvitserk fail and learn on his own but ultimately Ubbe did appreciate being able to learn a language that was different from his own.  

In filling the role of “pen pal,” Ubbe had struck up a small friendship with the person Hvitserk had been assigned to correspond. She was a nice girl from Mexico; Xochilt and explained to him from their very first letters that her name didn’t sound like he probably thought it did. She was a sweet person; frequently speaking of her family and everything they did together, her ambitions to see more of the world and possibly become a translator, and so much more she shared with him through letters.

But this was a time when an email or phone call wasn’t quite as feasible for her compared to Ubbe, so as time went on, communicating simply became much harder for them. Until eventually, communication ceased between the two when Ubbe went off for university to take up a position in his father’s company.

Years went by and a lot happened in his life since his cheerful days of writing letters; he married and divorced, his father died, his brothers fought bitterly over the family company before they worked things out, and at last things seemed to be settling down.  

With all of his brothers working together to run their late father’s company, they all decided it would be good to expand it outside the company and who better to begin their expansion than Ubbe. Out of all his brother’s, he was the most fluent in multiple languages and they sent him off to begin the Latin American branch in the heart of Mexico City. He would spend the first year in the country as the company established itself and when that time ended, he would return back to his home in Denmark.  

January

He had been in Mexico for roughly three weeks when he decided to take one of his employees' recommendations to check out the local markets or visit the plaza when he had the chance. Things had been a whirlwind of getting used to the time zone, using another language frequently, and settling himself in his temporary apartment. Ubbe figured that with the next meeting being in two weeks, it would give him the opportunity to get to know a bit of the place that he would live in for the next year.

For it being January, the weather was a nice mild 72 F (22 C) and Ubbe really looked forward to seeing the tianguis that he had heard some things about. The employee had briefly mentioned that depending on the area, would also determine whether or not the tianguis would be set up or if the streets would be bare. It took a bit of asking around and making sure that he used the correct words to find out that it would be best for him to go out on a Tuesday, as every week that is when people from the area near his apartment would set up their stalls.

Everything felt so vibrant, loud, and exciting for Ubbe as he walked amongst the people that were clearly there to purchase goods from the many open stalls. Samples of fruit and tasty treats had been quickly placed into his hands from the various vendors as he let himself be moved and pulled along with the crowd that flowed beneath the tarps that sheltered them from the slight sprinkling of rain.

It did feel a little stifling for the man as he had rarely ever been to anything similar to the market that he was currently in, he was a little embarrassed to think that he had spent so long having someone else buy his groceries or items that he had missed out on experiencing something similar. In letting himself be pulled in every which way, Ubbe hadn’t had much of a chance to ask too many questions but it was amazing to him that so many people del barrio were the ones that had set up the market and stalls out the front of their homes.

He was on the edge of the market and close to an open road, when someone called out to him.

“Oye, güerito. Do you mind moving out of the way? Someone’s trying to get past you and you’re blocking their way.”

Ubbe looked over his shoulder and spotted an elderly woman trying to get around him but was struggling to do so, quickly he moved and helped the woman pick up her basket onto the sidewalk and was rewarded with a nice pinch on the cheek.

Once more the voice called out to him, “I have never seen you around these parts. Where are you from güerito?”

Ubbe looked around to find who it was that kept talking to him, a young woman with long dark hair gently waved at him in amusement from where she was perched. A much older woman sat beside her and she softly tapped at her shoulder, whispering something that he couldn’t quite hear and moved away from her stall of pottery.

“You never answered my question güerito, are you simply visiting the area or a tourist?” she asked.

“I suppose both, since I am from Denmark” he chuckled. “But I’m here for the year and wanted to see the tianguis that one of my employees had mentioned to me. I will be honest, I am a little bit overwhelmed with everything but I think that I would like to come again on the days that I am not too busy.”

“Well there is plenty in the city and even the barrio itself for you to see, if I remember correctly there should be more than 150 museums for you to choose from and see the things that they have to offer” she said with a pensive expression. “Some of them are free to the public, but like many places there are others that charge a modest fee for the experience of getting to see everything.”    

“You’re very knowledgeable about it all, have you been to all 150 museums?”

She laughed, “No I have not. But I am very proud of where I am from and what better way to show it off than to know as much as I can about the very place in which I was born.”

“Have you ever thought about being a tour guide?” he asked. “You seem like you have plenty of stories to tell about it all and would probably know much more than you’re letting me on.”

“I feel like you’re subtly trying to ask me if I would be willing to show you around some of these things since you have very little knowledge about these things” she said and smiled in amusement. “You’re still a stranger to me and I don’t go to places without at least knowing someone’s name.”

She looked at him pointedly and gestured to let him know that she was waiting.

"My name is Ubbe, Ubbe Ragnarsson."

"Huh," she chuckled. "I have no idea how common that name is in your country Ubbe, because I remember while in high school there was a boy who wrote on his brother's behalf with that exact name."

He frowned in confusion but also furrowed his brow in wonder.

"What's your name?"

"My name is Xochilt, Xochilt Rodriguez but my name doesn't sound like how you think it will be spelled."

"Well how would you spell your name? Maybe I do know how it's supposed to be."

"It's X - O - C - H - I - L - T"

"Looks like it is a very small world then Xochilt, because I am pretty sure that I was that same person that wrote to you on his brother's behalf."

A smile lit up her features and she called out to her great grandmother, "Mama Consuelo encontre el güerito de cuando estaba en la secundaria!"

May

Time went quickly and Ubbe couldn’t believe that he had already been in Mexico for 5 months, spending so much time with Xochilt and her great grandmother Doña Consuelo, it felt like he had always lived in Mexico. Of course, he couldn’t ignore that his brothers frequently called to ask him how he was doing and whether or not there was progress in the Latin American branch of their company but it only felt like background noise to everything that he was experiencing each and every day.

On weekends or whenever either of the two had the chance to see one another, they would go to see some of the sights that Xochilt was always telling him about.

They had gone to Xochimilco where the canals were filled with numerous color boats and they had a blast when they invited others to join them, drinking and laughing together as the people made the ride more exciting. They had been to the Zocalo, where Ubbe had been intimidated by the various men that were dressed in what Xochilt said was the traditional garb of warriors before the Spaniards had come to colonize the country. The men were understanding that it was a bit much and both ruffled his hair while giving him a fist bump to acknowledge Ubbe doing his best to not be intimidated.

Ubbe and Xochilt had done and seen so much together, now in the middle of May they stood before the imposing structures of Teotihuacan. The pyramids according to Xochilt were those of the moon and sun where ceremonies used to take place but also where sacrifices tended to take place.

The trek to get to the temples was long and Ubbe already felt like giving up when he saw the size of the structures but after a lot of pep talking from Xochilt and realizing halfway that the distance between going back and going up was the same, they had made it to the top of temple of the moon.  

It was a breathtaking sight around them as they stood there, both because Ubbe was absolutely exhausted after the arduous journey to get there and also because as he watched Xochilt smile in content when a cool breeze blew through her hair, his poor heart had skipped several beats.

“Te amo Xochilt.”

She turned to him startled, Ubbe felt as if his heart would beat out of his chest but he wouldn’t take it back. Perhaps they had only truly spent a few months together in person, but coupled with their adolescent friendship only solidified his feelings for her all the more.

“I know that I don’t have much time left in Mexico, but I need you to know how I feel and also, if you would possibly think about traveling with me back to Denmark.”

“Ubbe... as much as I would like to even think of the possibility, I can’t just leave my great grandmother behind to go with you.”

“We could bring her with us and with the branch of my company establishing itself better, we could come back more frequently if you’re ever feeling homesick.”

“Ubbe, I really can’t.”

“Why not?” he asked, “Is there something that I am missing?”

“Have you ever noticed how my Mama tends to ask you to repeat yourself at times or will sometimes forget if she’s done a task?”

“Yes...”

“She was recently diagnosed with Parkinson’s, and we don’t know how much her memory will deteriorate but I can’t just leave her alone while she’s going through this Ubbe. She needs me, do you understand?”

“Yes, I do” as much as it crushed Ubbe, he would never do anything to possibly hurt Doña Consuelo.

“Can we still stay friends, Ubbe?”

He smiled softly and gently pulled her into a hug, “Always.”

October

While Xochilt was inside cooking lunch, Ubbe offered his help to Doña Consuelo to put the various linens and shirts to dry out on the clothesline. It was a slow and clumsy attempt as he struggled to pin the things onto the line, but the elderly woman appreciated it all the same as she calmly pointed out what he could do.

“Mi niño, stop what you are doing for a moment” the woman said.

Ubbe worried that he would be scolded for either his lack of speed or that he was doing the task incorrectly. The woman motioned for him to crouch down and in his haste to do so, slipped and fell in the process.

“Buena cosa que mi nieta didn’t fall in love with your grace,” the woman laughed a throaty chuckle.

“We’re simply friends Doña, nothing more.”

“Me crees pendeja? I didn’t have five children without knowing how men’s minds work and recognizing the signs of love when I see them” she said. “But I also know that neither you or Xochilt want to risk taking the first step.”

Ubbe smiled sadly, “That’s where you’re wrong Doña Consuelo, I already confessed to Consuelo but she already rejected me.”

“Both of you are so dumb, my grandaughter more so. Listen to me carefully, fight for this love because it’s precious” she told him softly, holding his hands in her own weathered palms. “The older you get like me, the more people you lose and all that you are left with are the recuerdos when they are gone.”      

“But... I’m scared Doña,” Ubbe said softly. “What if I get my heart broken and despite what you say, Xochilt could turn me down once more and I wouldn’t want to push her to give me an answer that I want.”

“Matters of the heart are delicate, mî niño. I know that Xochilt is worried about me most when she answers you” said Doña Consuelo. “I have lived a long life and my memories get foggier everyday y un dîa no tendré recuerdos, but until then I want to see you both happy for as long as my memory allows.”

Ubbe clearly hesitated, but Doña Consuelo simply smiled at him and mouthed for him to go, gesturing toward her great granddaughter as she glanced at them from the open window.

4 Years Later

“Me da tanto gusto verte niña” her Uncle Alejandro greeted, happily wrapping Xochilt in a warm embrace. “I am grateful that you traveled all this way in your state to come and visit us.”

She laughed softly, “I am only pregnant tío, and the doctor gave me a check up to be sure that it would be okay to travel.”

Her uncle turned to Ubbe, “La cuidas muchacho. Her grandmother may not be with us, but I can scold you on her behalf.”

While Ubbe held onto their son Ragnar and was scolded by the older man, Xochilt carefully approached the small altar that had been placed in the middle of the room. The images of those they had lost through the years seemed to almost smile at her return. Every uncle, aunt, cousin, and even her parents. She knew each of them by name and knew who they were, even if she hadn’t known them very well in life.

Gingerly she kneeled to look at the newest addition to the altar and carefully picked up the frame of her great - grandmother, smiling at her the same way she had when given the news of another great - great grandchild soon to be born.

It had only been a few months since Doña Consuelo had passed and Xochilt still felt the dull ache of pain that she wouldn’t get to see her great - grandmother. But it was also a bitter sweet sentiment that she would have once a year in which the older woman would be able to come and visit, to see Xochilt’s children grow and learn more about her through the stories of her life.  

“Hi Mama,” Xochilt greeted Doña Consuelo. “It’s been some time since I have talked to you, but gracias a Dios, Ubbe, Ragnar and I were able to come for a visit.”

Carefully Xochilt pulled out the bottle of tequila that she had brought as an offering and poured out a shot, setting it on the table of the altar. “Normally I would drink a shot with you, but at 6 months, I wouldn’t do that considering I want your great - great granddaughter to be healthy.”

Xochilt hadn't been pregnant with her second for very long when she told her great grandmother the news, sadly both her memory and health declined drastically after the exciting news. Doña Consuelo never had the chance to learn that she was to have a great great grandmother before she passed away.

"You know Mama, both Ubbe and I were talking about names recently but couldn't seem to come to an agreement. But on our plane ride here, we found a name that we liked very much" Xochilt chuckled as she wiped away her tears. "How do you feel about Consuelo being named after you?"

Despite obviously receiving no response, Xochilt couldn't help but imagine the old woman would have told her that her name wasn't that special and to choose a more traditional name for the baby before ultimately giving up to then smother her great granddaughter with all the affection she had always given her.

"I miss you so much everyday Mama, but I know that you will always be with me por que en mis recuerdos siempre estarás." 

Tagged: 

@vikingsbigbang @vikingstrash @ietss @pinkrockstar19 @thenightperson @xbellaxcarolinax​ @quantumlocked310​

#ubbe imagine #ubbe x oc #ubbe ragnarsson x oc #vikings big bang 2022 #fluff #some angst #latina oc #vikings big bang winter 2022 #vbbw22 #ubbe x reader #vikings x oc #vikings x reader

[bouncehousedemons]

Lucky

GIF credit: @underragingwaves​

Happy birthday to @ritual-unions​ - this a small drabble I wrote for you, a part three to Salt of the Earth and Sea, as I know you like that pairing!

Read it here.

Part one can be read here.

Part two can be read here.

#vikings fanfiction #vikings history #vikings #ubbe #ubbe lothbrok #ubbe ragnarsson #ubbe x ofc #ubbe fanfiction #ubbe's wolfpack #vikings ubbe #ubbe x oc #vikings fic #vikings history channel #vikings fandom

[underragingwaves]

Well, now I can officially state that homeland, heartland is the longest fic I've written for this fandom so far. 😅 I'll be taking a little break from it so I can work on my Big Bang fic for this year, but this new update is a big one! A tiny sneak peek is below, but for the rest you're going to have to click on the link...

"Can you swim?"

She scoffs at the question. "Can you?"

He halts in a way that makes him go utterly still beside her. "I.. I am.." Ubbe huffs. Pauses. Groans in obvious annoyance as his legs stretch out beside her tail. "Forget I asked you this."

Cari sniggers to herself while one of her fins nudges his knee incessantly. "You just asked a mermaid"– she laughs, turning to look at him while she emphasizes the words –"if she can swim."

You can dive right into chapter 11 here! Have you missed the previous installments of this fic? You can start from the beginning here.

#vikings #ubbe ragnarsson #ubbe #ubbe x oc #ubbe x cari #ubbe's wolfpack #urwfic #art by me #homeland heartland

[ritual-unions]

I always imagined Ubbe having the biggest breeding kink ever, so I’m asking for that kind of image! Love your fics, I’m happy that people are writing for this beautiful fandom!

To help with the Sunday Scaries (of course I cannot keep any thing under 500 words, especially when it comes to these two):

It had been two moons since Avaritia had blessed them with a baby girl, and with each day that passed Ubbe showered his wife with gifts. Furs piling high on the bed, chests full of gold and treasures from his father’s first raiding plunder, a cottage out in the country, away from the stuffy halls of the King’s Villa, a place she could truly call her own.

Had he the mind to he would have worshiped the ground she walked on for giving him his first child. Avaritia seemed to sense this, hiding a haughty smirk in the corner of her mouth any time Ubbe cooed at the babe, or held her for his older brother to admire, or spoke words of praise about her to the shieldmaidens and warriors who asked after her health.

Since giving birth to their child Avaritia has been different. In a way he cannot quite put his finger on and so he lets it pass unspoken. 

“I have to meet with the king,” he says that morning, slipping the crucifix over his head. He grimaces at the weight of the chain resting against his neck and at the endless favors Alfred requires of him. “Tell Lagertha we will not make dinner.” 

“Tell her yourself,” Avaritia scoffs at the command. “I am not one of your thralls,” she sneers at the use of his mother tongue.

Ubbe chuckles quietly to himself, raising a brow in her direction. 

She does not meet his eye, instead consumed with the bolts of cloth on the table before her, imagining the different dresses she will have made for herself. The same bolts had he bought for her. 

His mouth twitches, with a half shake of his head he rids himself of his crueler instincts.

He steps towards her, wrapping his arm across her belly, leaning in her backside, pressing his lips against the exposed skin of her neck. She has not yet dressed for the day, still styled in her nightgown, that slips off of her shoulders.

“I like it better when you are with my child,” he says, not able to keep the amusement away from his mouth when she struggles against his grip trying to spin around so that she might glare daggers at him. 

The part of him that is still víkingr, even after all his time spent among the Christians, thrills at her struggle. He had tried to do better by his father, be a different kind of man, make peace among his enemies but there is still a piece of him, residing deep in the depths of his belly that lurches forward upon seeing others terrified at the sight of him. Witnessing the contemplation cross their features: run or fight. 

Avaritia holds her fighting instincts close to her, tight in her chest and in her heart. It does not bare its teeth or roar unceremoniously at him like he has seen in the Norse women of his past. It is only after the birth of their child that he starts to see that Saxon-bred beast lash out for him. 

And it excites him, a reminder of his heritage, of his forefathers who razored the lands they came across. Merciless against those who stood before them.

“You were kinder,” he says, grinning at the thought of her swollen with his child. She had followed at his heels like a puppy, seeking his approval any chance she got, desperate to keep his attention.

His lips move against the hollow of her ear once she has settled down, hands braced against the table before her, holding herself steady against his rolling hips. 

He nudges her jaw towards him so that he might catch her eye. See that fire one more time. 

Exasperated she rolls her eyes before finally meeting his gaze. He laughs, his mouth a beat away from hers. 

He does not kiss her like she expects, instead he moves along her jaw and down her neck, his breath hot on her cool skin. He would not kiss her, not yet, not when she was acting like this.

The anticipation causes her breath to catch in her throat, distracting her from his wandering hands. Her silk nightgown catches on the rough pads of his fingers as he pushes it aside, seeking her warm entrance.  

“And scared-” she gasps as his thumb brushes across her clit - “worried I might leave you.”

He grins at the memory and at her melting into his touch. 

He lets her move now. She turns around to face him, tripping over her feet, as his thumb moves in slow steady circles around her clit. She clutches at his shirt and around his neck, steading herself against him. Her forehead presses against his chest as he pushes a single finger inside her.

The blood that has been so vehemently pumping through his abdomen rushes to his head at the sight of her falling apart before him. He breathes out the heat of it through his nose, rustling the dark hairs atop her head. Her walls squeeze around his fingers, pulling him in, begging for more. 

Yes?” He asks, pushing her back against the table. He tugs her nightgown up around her belly and down past her breast, wanting to see every part of her as he fills her up. He unlaces his pants with his free hand, lining himself up with her entrance.

He grunts, pushing into her with a slow roll of his hips, fingers gripping onto her sides, as he tries not to growl as she swallows him whole. He drives himself a little deeper, pressing against her cervix, causing her to gasp.  

“Hm?” He demands again, quietly, wanting to hear how frightened she was at the idea of losing him while pregnant with his child.

“Yes,” she agrees with a hasty nod of her head, dark curls bouncing around her shoulders. “I need you, Ubbe.” She holds her peace for a moment, biting her lip, trying not to meet his gaze.

Finally she begs, “please.”

A grin ticks the corner of his mouth as he finds his pace. He becomes soaked in her juices, the sound of their bodies melting together fills the room.

“Full with the child of a heathen.” He can not help but mock her at the idea, how it terrifies more women than he had ever imagined. “My child.”

“Should just keep you full with my seed always,” he groans under his breath as she clenches around him at the announcement.

He reaches out for her neck, thumb caressing the base, before traveling out to her shoulder, keeping her place. Keeping her from running away.  

“Maybe,” he grunts, flicking his hips into her. “Your attitude will adjust after this one,” he says, holding himself flush against her as he shoots his seed inside of her.

+++

Thanks for requesting! I had too much fun with this one.

Avaritia is my Saxon OC from Green Ivy if you're interested in more of their dynamic.

#vikings fanfiction #vikings smut #ubbe fanfiction #Ubbe smut #Ubbe x ofc #Ubbe x oc #Ubbe x Avaritia

[ulfrsmal]

Trigger Warnings: none.

Gen (all audiences) ⫽ Original Male Character/Ubbe ⫽ No Archive Warnings Apply ⫽ one-shot

Panic. That was all Asa could feel now. One moment she’d been holding on to pappa’s hand talking about plushies, the next she was alone. She tried to be grown-up and brave, to not cry, to just stay quiet and here and not talk to strangers. But she ended up crying anyway.

Read On AO3

⫽ Credit for the Metalhead image in the middle of the fic banner goes to Brenna Bourque. ⫽

#my writing #vikings #ubbe ragnarsson #ubbe x oc #ubbe x omc #original male character

[paracosmoon]

king harald finehair would've risked it all for megan thee stallion

#vikings #vikings incorrect quotes #ubbe ragnarsson #ragnar lothbrok #rollo lothbrok #ivar the boneless #modern ivar #ivar x oc #ivar the boneless x reader #ivar the boneless x ofc #ivar the boneless x you #hvitserk #vikings valhalla #vikings imagine #vikings ivar #lagertha #bjorn vikings #bjorn ironside #bjorn ragnarsson #sigurd snake in the eye #the last kingdom fandom #the last kingdom #tlk uhtred #uhtred imagine

[mommytauriel]

+ · 。~ OC chart for Thyra

This is my oc chart for my oc Thyra! She will be the main character for my upcoming Vikings story! I’m still wondering if I should post the story on here as well, please let me know what you guys think! I hope you guys like her!

This was my first time doing something like this! I’m definitely going to be doing this for other oc’s of mine 🤗

Feel free to send in some asks or questions that you have for this story! I would love to answer them 🫶��

#🧣oc thyra #vikings #vikings x reader #vikings fandom #vikings fanfiction #vikings fic #ragnar lothbrok #bjorn lothbrok #vikings ubbe #ubbe ragnarsson #ubbe fanfic #ivar the boneless #vikings ivar #ivar ragnarsson #vikings fluff

[eu-nicola]

vikings x fem!oc

It was going to be with reader but I needed to give it a name

my first language isn’t English and I didn't correct this

summary: vikings brothers have a sister who can control dragons and has powerful magic (anon request)

The baby Freyja had been born with an eye the same as that of a snake with a different color and pupil shape, it was thought that it was because of her ancestors and that it was a way of proving that in the future she was going to be a strong and powerful as her father was. And they weren’t wrong.

In one of Ragnar's trips he found a somewhat strange egg, larger than a normal one with scales and green in color, he took it and took it to his sweet daughter, this was going to be the compensation gift for being gone so long. The day her father returned home the little girl was playing away from everyone while they were looking for her, she didn't care and continued with her game because she thought it was funny how she could move the twigs in the air and throw them far away she even try to try with a big stone but it was too big for someone so tiny.

When they finally found her, her mother didn't realize what she was doing, she just told her it was time to stop playing and took her inside so she could see her father, he welcomed her with open arms and a kiss on the cheek. When the girl began to ask him a thousand questions about where he had been he immediately smiled and took out his gift, Freyja was surprised to see her new gift, it was beautiful for her.

Over time the girl realized that it was not a normal egg and saw a small dark green dragon come out of there, just like its shell, she loved this but she did not want to tell anyone because it was her secret, it was her dragon and if she said so maybe they would want to take it from her and she didn't want to, so she decided to hide it in a cave that she had seen once with her father and brothers not so far from the place but that no one ever went to.

Months passed and even in such a short time the dragon had grown immensely, Freyja, only 6 years old, escaped every day without anyone seeing her and brought the dragon something to eat, she always convinced a prisoner to follow her and she took them there for the dragon she had called "Arrax", certainly she was never afraid to take a prisoner because she knew that they couldn't do anything to her because she had her dragon taking care of her.

One morning Freyja was trying to get a prisoner and escape but for the first time her brothers saw her and instead of telling her something they just followed her to the cave with the prisoner being sure that the man was not going to do something before they killed but it was not necessary because they were surprised when they saw the dragon eat the man in one bite. Immediately the girl noticed the presence of her brothers and smiled at them as if what she had done was a little game. "brothers", the little girl yelled, she came to hug them and at that moment Freyja introduced Arrax to them and she tell them that he was a good pet and very pretty, when her half-brother Bjorn wanted to push her away, she immediately made him fly away the air raising it as she had once done with that twig but now she had been able to do it with it.

"Don't try to take me away from Arrax again." she told them.

At first everyone was so surprised at the beast that even they who are not afraid of anything for a moment were afraid of the dragon. For now no one was going to say anything but maybe in the future when his sister became a woman they would be able to use the dragon for their own purposes. Without speaking they all looked at each other and it seemed that they agreed even Freyja herself that she was already eager to ride the dragon and feed it with her enemies.

#vikings #vikings ivar #ivar x oc #ivar the boneless #bjorn ragnarsson #bjorn lothbrok #ubbe ragnarsson #ubbe lothbrok #hvitserk lothbrok #vikings hvitserk #imagine #oneshot #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless x reader #hvitserk x reader

[istorkyou]

A Thousand Battles (A Modern Ivar AU)

A modern!Ivar x F OC (Julietta Lothbrok)

Warnings- Angst, violence, death, smut.

Synopsis - Julietta wakes up with no memory of her life or her husband, Ivar. Will it ever return? Does she want it to?

Word Count - 3113

Tag List - Let me know if you want on or off :)@smears-and-spots @punkrocknpearls​​ @youbloodymadgenius​​ @momowhoo​​ @zuxiezendler​​ @not-another-viking-fanfic-blog​ @ivar-s-my-brat-tamer​ @pieces-by-me​ @heavenly1927​​ @berryonasummerevening @synnersaint​​ @out-of-the-box-and-into-alchemy​ @petite-hime​​ @serasvictoria​​ @mimiiinspace​​ @itsmysticalmystery​​ @lonewolf471​​ @mylifeisactuallyamess​​ @draculasbride-blog​​ @love-all-things-writing​​ @southernbe​​ @redhead7799​​ @kaybee87​​ @ivarlover​​ @ivarhoegh​​ @idgafiamallthefandoms​​ @darkphoenix5037​​ @profoundtyrantharmony​​ @snarling-through-our-smiles​​ @crazyunsexycool​​ @xceafh​​ @noway4u @batmandallyboy​​ @complicatedbutrare @readsalot73​​​​ @meandmycherrytree

Masterlist

Chapter 14 - Final Chapter

He is in a meeting when his phone vibrates in his pocket. Well, it’s not really a meeting, more of an information gathering session in a warehouse involving sharp instruments and spilled blood. He’s been taking on more and more of these ‘meetings’ since she disappeared, a good way to expel some of his rage and sadness productively.

He walks away from the man he is dealing with, wipes his hands on a cloth and gets his phone out to an interesting message on his screen.

One of her passports was used to get into the country three hours ago.

A smile quirks onto his lips very briefly followed by a deep inhalation of breath.

“You, take over from here. Just kill him. I’ve got the information I need now.”

He hears a gunshot behind him as he heads out to his armoured SUV to take him back to the estate.

When he arrives back he doesn’t go to the main house but straight to their house. He knows Ragnar would have got the same message and he needs to check something out first before he sees his father. He hurries to their shared closet, still full of her clothes and he pulls out the black shoes with the red soles, her stash spot, pulling out an untraceable phone. He turns it on and waits. The phone beeps twice. Two messages. Both from anonymous numbers, both from her.

Coming home. Too dangerous now.

See me before they get to me? I will come alone. I miss you so much.

He texts back quickly.

Yes. Will message soon. I love you. Thank you for all the photos last week, baby.

As he stashes the phone back he lets his finger run over the notebook that took him less than three days to decipher. One of the reasons he searched so hard for her and established secret communication. He cried for days when he broke the code and read her words. An anthology of love, dating from the night they met, describing every feeling she ever had for him, her deep love, the light he had reignited inside her after years of living in the black. Much as he had before he met her. The reasons why she acted as she did after Sardinia, the threats made against his life, the coldness she showed him when underneath she felt nothing but adoration. She explained it all in a diary she never intended for anyone to read. Her soul lives in these pages, and so does his.

Always and forever, no matter how far apart.

———————

He heads to the main house and into his fathers study.

”I am sure you’ve seen the message. She has returned.” Ragnar says without looking up from his papers.

Ivar nods. “I’ll take care of it. She will contact me soon, I’m sure of it.”

Ragnar looks up and stares into his son's eyes, carbon copies of his own. “Will you be able to finish the job this time? She cannot live, Ivar. She simply must die. If you feel like you can’t do it, or she will get the drop on you again I’ll send a whole team to hunt her down.”

“I’ll do it father. She is my responsibility. I will not fuck it up again. I’ll let you know when she contacts me and what the plan is from there.”

Ragnar nods in agreement and rounds his desk to embrace his son. “I am sorry for this, sorry it has to be done. You understand though?”

“I do. It’s been a long time coming,” Ivar says tersely, “I’ll speak to you soon.”

———————

He leaves the estate in his own vehicle, he drives for an hour and no one is following him. He pulls into a multi-storey car park and switches cars and drives for an hour to another car park and does the same.

It’s dark by the time he reaches the hotel. A shitty, off the track hotel he’d never be seen dead in usually. He walks as quickly as he can to a door and knocks three times.

The door opens a fraction and he pushes it the rest of the way, slowly revealing his wife to him. She has her gun pointed at him.

“Alone?”

“Alone, baby.” He steps in and shuts the door behind him before they walk quickly towards each other, arms pulling the other into a tight embrace, clinging to the other, tears falling.

“I missed you so much, Liet.”

“Fuck I missed you so much too.”

They pull at each other’s clothing, frantic to get the other naked as quickly as possible. When their goal is managed they fall onto the crappy, lumpy hotel bed together on their sides, her leg over his waist before he pushes her onto her back and he crawls over her, their mouths attached the whole time. She grabs his hard cock and lines him up a half a second before he pushes deep into her.

Their mirrored groans into each other’s mouths make them giggle.

“Fuck, love, you feel so good,” he says into her mouth before moving her inside of her, drawing deep, low moans from her. “I missed you every second of every day.”

“Me too, Ivar. Harder, please, harder!”

Their fingers dig into each other's skin, pulling into the other, trying to close the millimetres left between their bodies, a desperate need to feel every part of the other, a desperate need to fill the two year gap since they last were with each other physically.

It takes no time for their knowledge of each other’s bodies to kick in and they make each other orgasm. Shuddering against each other, the air blue with obscenities.

When they finally loosen their grip on the other they stay as close as possible, noses touching, laying on their sides, hands running up each other’s backs.

“Hi, baby,” he laughs out.

“Hi, love,” she giggles in reply.

They just stare at each other, who knows for how long. Long enough for him to run his hand through her longer hair. To run his fingers over some new scarring on her body. Long enough for her to touch his thigh where she inflicted a break. Long enough to revel in his eyes and compare them to his.

“Anyone since us, Ivar? Are you happy?”

“No one. No one ever again. Always and forever, baby. You?”

“Never for me, Ivar. You and only you. I need you to be happy again though. After all this.”

Ivar waves his hand as if dismissing her words. There is no point in lying to her, pretending he will ever let anyone in again so he just changes the subject.

“I did what you asked, love, I killed Lev.”

Her eyes fill with tears and she lets out a giggle of relief. “Thank you, Ivar. How?”

“I peeled his skin off slowly and I made him watch videos of us when we were happy, after the accident. He begged for your forgiveness and his life in the end, love.”

A nasty sneer flashes across her face. “Good, he deserves every second of pain you inflicted on him.”

A comfortable silence settles between them again before Ivar breaks it. “Where is he, Liet?”

“He’s safe I promise. I will need to get back to him in the early morning. That’s why I’m back, it’s too dangerous now. I’ve had too many close calls and I’m frightened for him. He needs stability, Ivar. I’m done running. I’m here to face what I need to, and to give you your son. You need to keep him safe from now on. I can’t offer him that any longer.”

Ivar knew this is why she had come back. Knew his men had almost caught her in Belize. Had heard rumours of her father almost tracking her down in Peru. Ivar almost gave himself away numerous times trying to throw them off her and their sons scent, Ragnar was suspicious at one point and that was when the Belize incident happened. He had warned her but a little too late. He begged her to bring his son back to him but she wasn’t ready.

She is ready now.

Ivar clears his throat, trying to dislodge the ball in it. “I am going to talk to my father. Things are different now, with the baby. I… I’ll talk sense into him. We can be toget…” the rest of his sentence is cut off by her lips crashing his. When she pulls away she gives him a little smile.

“Ivar. We’ve talked about this. Your father will not allow me to live, for his reputation and his own peace of mind. I knew coming back here it would be the end for me, I’m under no illusion I will not die tomorrow. I thought you had come to terms with it, baby?” She runs her hand over his furrowed brow and her thumb wipes a tear away. “Even if Ragnar allowed it, which he absolutely will not, I wouldn’t allow it. If my father knew I was back, knew about our son, he would never stop coming for me, for him. He wouldn't stop until we were all cold in the ground, everyone, your mother, father and brothers. There would be no peace until he had our son in his care. I can not allow that. I’m here so our baby can have a life without being hunted for the mistakes I made.” She is aware her voice isn’t as soft as she would like it to be, but she also knows that Ivar responds to this cold, detached hard truth. “I have loved you enough for a whole lifetime, this is how it has to be, love. You know this.”

He doesn’t reply, he nods stiffly and a silence settles between them.

“Liet. He will always know about you, I’ll never let him forget how much you love him, how much we love each other. No one will poison his mind against you.”

His heart breaks entirely to pieces as she crumbles down in front of him. She knows this is her last night on this Earth. Her actual last night this time. She is giving herself up for the sake of their baby. Their 14 month old baby who has his fathers eyes nestled in the features of his mother.

The greatest sacrifice a mother can make.

“Ivar, try to raise him out of this life. I know that won’t be easy, but send him to college, make him useful away from the violence. Make sure my father doesn’t get to him. Make sure Ragnar doesn’t ruin him. I’m trusting you with our baby, Ivar. You need to do for him what my past had robbed from me, a chance at a happy future. Be soft with him, like you are with me. Be loving and supportive no matter who he turns out to be or the choices he makes. Show him my Ivar, not the Ivar everyone else sees. Promise me?”

“I promise. I will be the best father,” Ivar says resolutely.

She gives him a genuine smile. “I have absolutely no doubt that you will.”

“Tell me more about him, baby.”

They spend the next few hours talking about him, his likes, his dislikes, how he sleeps curled up next to her every night with his favourite Elephant cuddly. She explains how rough the next few months will be for Ivar, he is his daddy but FaceTime can’t replicate a real connection. She explains how to best comfort him, what songs to sing him and how to make him laugh, what she wants for him in the future. She tells Ivar she has written letters for when he is older so he can understand what happened, but that it will be up to Ivar to judge when and if he feels their son can handle the information. Ivar says nothing, he just soaks up every word.

“I think that’s it.” She glances at her watch.”I will send you a text at 11am to tell me to meet me at 4pm. Your father will intercept it, we both know he will send someone. Just…. Just cover his eyes before, promise me you won’t both watch me die.”

“I promise. I promise you. We have 8 hours until I need to be home to get the message.”

“8 hours.”

“Those hours are for us and us only.” He reaches for his phone, and taps until the room is filled with music.

Everywhere by Fleetwood Mac.

He stands up and holds his hand out to her. “Come dance with me one last time, baby.”

Her eyes mist over again as she goes to him, clinging to him tightly. She closes her eyes, compartmentalises the coming day and enjoys every second they have remaining.

————————-

9am rolls around and it’s time for him to go.

They cling to each other before she loosens her grip and grabs his face, pulling it closer to hers.

“In the next life, Ivar. I will find you in the next and every life we have after. Look after our baby.”

He holds her face, forehead touching hers. “This life and the next. I love you. I will keep him safe. I promise on everything I am, my beautiful Liet. The bravest person I’ve ever met, my fighter, my Valkyrie.”

They share a kiss, a kiss so full of love, pain, admiration and promise that they both smile and cry as they pull away and he leaves.

—————————

His phone beeps dead on 11am.

Meet me at warehouse 2c at 4pm. Just you. I have something for you.

He enters the main house to his father waiting in his study.

“You saw the message?” he asks his Father.

“I did. I wonder what she has for you?”

“A bullet in my brain I would imagine?”

Ragnar regards him, hard eyes travelling over his face. “Take your gun. You shoot her on sight. There is nothing she has that we need, nothing she can give you worth anything. Kill her and we can all move on.”

Ivar nods quickly. “That is my plan.” He turns to walk out of his fathers office.

Ragnar waits until the heavy slam of the front door hits his ears before picking up his phone. “4pm. The docks. Set up a sniper. Kill her if he hesitates.”

——————-

Ivar pulls up to the warehouse and sits for a second. He closes his eyes and breathes deeply, trying to stop the flow of tears that have been cascading down his face the whole 45 minute ride over. His heart is ripping to shreds inside his chest, despite having years to come to terms with it, a tiny sliver of bright hope lit his black soul thinking they could be a family one day. His rational brain knew it would never happen, she told him weekly it would never be the case, but the fact that the end is now is too much for him to bear.

But bear it he must. Not for her, or himself, but for their beautiful son.

He walks into the warehouse and his trained eyes see the minuscule glint from the sniper rifle up high in the corner. He will be sure to tell his father about the snipers fuck up.

His eyes find her, standing in the centre of the massive room, her back to him. His heart stops. She hasn’t brought the baby, he can’t see his son. When he is close enough he gets his gun out and points it at her.

“Liet?”

She turns slowly, their baby asleep in her arms, she doesn’t look at Ivar, she doesn’t take her eyes off their baby, soaking in every last second she has with him. He lowers his weapon as soon as he sees his son.

“The sniper is shit, love. I spotted him the second I walked in,” she chuckles lightly, “tell Ragnar I said he needs better men.

————

The sniper can’t hear what they are saying, and neither can Ragnar watching from his office from a camera feed attached to the rifle.

“Sir, she has a baby in her arms.”

“I can see that.”

“Shall I take the shot?”

“No. Do not dare. I’m pretty sure I am looking at my grandchild.” Ragnars eyes are full of tears. It’s been years since anything elicited such emotion from him. He understands now why Ivar has tried to keep her safe these past two years, not just out of love for her, but a fathers love for his child.

Ragnar wipes his eyes and rolls his shoulder. “Be ready. This is an exchange. When it’s done I will give the word.”

—————

Julietta gives Ivar a look of pure love. “Ready, baby? When I hand him to you I need you to turn away and walk out. Don’t watch me die, love. Okay?”

Ivar’s nods twice. They step towards each other, he drops his gun on the floor so he can embrace her one last time. With their foreheads touching, and tears on their faces she hands the baby to Ivar, bends down, sniffs the baby's head and kisses him before turning her attention back to his father, placing a slow kiss on his lips.

“In the next life, love,” she says

“Always and forever,” he replies.

She takes two steps back and Ivar swivels on his heels, clinging to his son, lurching away on his crutch.

———-

“Sir, shall I take the shot now?”

Ragnar is silent. His heart is breaking for his son but he knows what must be done. Even if he saw fit to let her live Ragnar knows her own father would never stop coming for her and if he were ever to catch up with her he would torture her to death. Ragnar rolls his shoulders and clenches his teeth.

———-

Ivar hears the pop and the whizz of the bullet from the sniper fly past him. He hears the grunt from her chest on impact and he hears as she falls to the floor with a thud.

The tears in his eyes blind him, he squeezes his eyes shut to clear them. He wants to scream up into the universe, make the whole world hear his pain. But he looks into the face of his sleeping son in his arms and knows he won’t, he won’t scare him. So he holds it in, to be let out at a later time when his son is not with him.

He will be the best father to their son

For her.

His beautiful Liet.

FIN.

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