#Bjorn Lothbrok

[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

Coming Back || Björn Ironside x Oc

gifs by: unknown & @gifshistorical

Summary: Bjorn returns back to Wessex just in time for the birth of his first child with Evangeline. After being forced into marriage, it is the first time they see each other after the wedding.

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Kingdom of Wessex

“Move it!” Björn yells as he moves past servants and guards rushing around the place. Ragnar follows, amused at his son’s mood. They had just set foot back in Wessex after news came that Evangeline was expected to give birth very soon. Of course shocked, Björn wanted to be by his wife’s side when his first child is born.

The married couple had not seen each other in many months as he left right after their consummating ceremony. Although their marriage was only a political matter, Björn still cared about her.

“Ah, my son-in-law! How are you Björn?” King Ebert opens his arms wide. Björn awkwardly looks to his father before hesitating and moving closer to the King who pulls him in for a hug and a pat on the back.

“My dear Evangeline has missed your presence, but rest assured, her pregnancy has been very smooth. I pray to the God above that she delivers the child safely without much pain.” He does the sign of the cross as Björn slowly nods. “And where is she? The soon to be mother of my child?” His deep voice questions the King.

King Ecbert beckons a servant, “Take them to the birthing room,” And with that, Björn quickly follows the servant, Ragnar following suit but not before giving a look to the King.

The two walk into a hallway where they could already hear Evangeline’s cries of pain. Björn stiffened at the sound of her screams, it was his first time becoming a father so he did not know what to expect. Ragnar takes ahold of his son’s upper arm making him stop. “When you go in there, she is obviously in a lot of pain. Take her hand, comfort her. And pray to Freyja.” He says lowly to Björn who just nods before exhaling from his nose.

The servant waited in front of the door. Björn nodded and the door opened revealing his wife pacing slowly around the room. Her hands on her back as she breathed heavily. Her hair was sticking to her shiny face and her white gown slightly covered with blood. Evangeline had not yet noticed his presence in the room.

Another cry left her mouth as she threw her head back, massaging her stomach as servants press a cloth to her sweaty forehead. Ragnar stayed leaned up by the door, his eyes scanning around the room. “Evangeline…” Björn called out making the princess turn her head to his direction.

In a matter of seconds, she stormed up to him, hitting his chest a few times. “Where have you been! I have been waiting for you-“ She stopped mid sentence as she winced and leaned her head against his firm chest. “Because of you, I seem to be fighting against a demon inside my stomach!” She fumed before she turned back around and continued pacing.

Björn watched his wife in shock as she kept yelling “get out, get out, get out” over and over. He looks behind his shoulder to his father for help but Ragnar only chuckles. “Sounds like a typical Viking baby” He shrugs as Björn walks to Evangeline. He takes her shoulders, “I think you should this to the bed, yes?” He says to her with his slight accent.

“I think that is a great idea, my Prince. Let’s go lay down in the bed shall we?” An older handmaiden gently takes Evangeline’s hands and move her to the bed. Now that he was married to the Princess of Wessex, he was technically considered Prince. It sure was still new to Björn.

Evangeline laid down on the bed with her husband trailing behind, his hand on her lower back. Björn takes ahold of her hand, just like what his father told her to do, placing a kiss on her knuckles before silently praying to Freyja.

“Princess, you need to start pushing!” Evangeline screams in pain but nonetheless pushes. “What are you doing?” She says in between her yells of pain. “Praying to the Goddess Freyja, so that you safely deliver our son or daughter” Björn says as he looks her in the eyes.

She doesn’t say anything but continues to push, tears streaming down her face from the pain she was experiencing. “This baby is going to be the death of me!” She screams before she gives one final push, her hand squeezing hard with Björn’s but he did not mind.

For the first time that afternoon, the villa fell silent until the noise of a baby crying broke it . Evangeline fell back on the bed, exhausted with her eyes closed. Björn stares amazed at the newborn, his child, a daughter. The handmaiden wraps the baby in cloth before taking her to the exhausted mother.

“Look, isn’t our daughter beautiful?” Björn softly whispers in Evangeline’s ear as she slowly opens her eyes, her daughter resting on her chest as tears of joy flow down her face. Björn couldn’t stop smiling at the little human being he helped create.

“She’s beautiful,” Evangeline whispers, looking down at the baby. “What should we name her?” The Princess looks at Björn with searching eyes as he takes a moment to think before looking to his father.

“I think we should name her Ingrid. It means beautiful goddess, because I know our daughter already is one,” He smiles down at the baby, her tiny hand wrapping themselves around Björn’s finger. Evangeline’s eyes move to Björn as everyone in the room exchanges looks.

No doubt were they questioning the name of the Princess’ child as it was old norse originated. “Ingrid. Princess Ingrid. I like that name,” Evangeline says softly as Björn smiles at her and kisses her cheek.

“Where is my granddaughter!” King Ecbert rushes in and stops to see the sight infront of him. His eyes immediately soften before coming to his daughter’s side, Evangeline notices his older brother Aethulwulf standing by the door awkwardly. Evangeline carefully gives her father Ingrid as the King admires his granddaughter silently.

The young Princess beckons her older brother who takes a hesitant step forward. He moves past his father and engulfs the younger in a hug. “How are you dear sister?” He rubs her back as Evangeline lets out a breath. “I’m fine. Though rest and sleep is all I can think about right now,” She chuckles as the others around do the same.

King Ecbert than passes Ingrid to her uncle. Evangeline watch as the two fuss over her daughter as she rests her head on Björn’s chest. “Thank you for being here,” She looks up to him with a gentle smile. He says nothing but moves her closer to him and places a kiss on her forehead.

The door opened and revealed Lagertha and Ragnar. The famous Shield-maiden immediately moves to the bed where the couple laid. She engulfed Björn in a tight hug before giving Evangeline one aswell. Lagertha moves to the other side and Aethulwolf passes Ingrid to her.

“Oh she’s beautiful,” Lagertha softly says, looking at Evangeline and Björn. “What is her name?” She questions as she brushes Ingrid’s cheek. “Ingrid.” Evangeline answers with a proud smile. “Ingrid.” Ragnar nods, moving behind Lagertha to look down at the baby in her arms.

“A beautiful name for a beautiful baby,” Ragnar acknowledges with a smile and winks at the young Princess.

[gulnarsultan]

hey i don't know if u write for vikings but if u do could you write some yandere headcanons for bjorn ironside nsfw and with kids

if your comfortable

Hello dear. Yes. I am writing for Viking. I hope you like it.

Yandere Bjorn Ironside headcanon.

~ Maybe you are his childhood friend. Or someone who was captured during a raid. It doesn't matter who you are and how you met. When Bjorn falls in love, your fate is sealed forever.

~ He has a very high desire to prove himself to you. He will try to show you that he is a real man, a worthy husband. He will not hesitate to show off his talents.

~ He is possessive, protective and jealous. He cannot stand other men approaching you. He enjoys dueling with his rivals and eliminating them.

~ He has a fear of abandonment and loss. His parents' broken marriage makes him somewhat paranoid. Losing his sister at a young age is a factor that strengthens his paranoia.

~ He will provide you with furs, jewelry and anything you want. He wants you to stay at home. He will never let you participate in wars and raids unless he has to. He will make sure that there are soldiers and shield girls around you to protect you even when you stay at home.

~ (Nswf) He will have sex with you for hours when he gets jealous. He will make you scream his name. He always likes to leave love bites on your body. He is obsessed with your belly swelling with his child.

~ He tries to be a good father to his children as much as he can. He is protective of them. He will try to meet all their material and spiritual needs.

[axelsagewrites]

Bjorn Ironside*Captured

Pairing: bjorn x f!rival!reader

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

Word count: 1818

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

Masterlist Here

Kinktober List Here

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[ubbesbabymama]

Björn Ironside falling first.

↳ Pairing. Bjorn Ironside.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I can’t deny or confirm that.”

“Right.”

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

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

“Why would I?” You hum.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

NSFW properly.

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

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

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

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

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

He is insatiable.

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

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

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

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

[levithestripper]

“When will he be better?” “In a few weeks’ time, your father’s wounds will be healed if he is careful.” VIKINGS— 01x05 “Raid”

[blakeswritingimagines]

4:56 pm

Bjorn's hips slam into your cunt from behind, the bed shaking so much the headboard slams against the wall. forcing you to stay there. his cock sliding in and out of your gummy walls, hitting the right angle to make you see stars. “fuck, your pussy’s so good baby.” he groans, gripping your hips so hard, you felt the crescent-shaped dips forming already. he was a very possessive man, always wanting to leave his mark on you. whether it be scratches, hickies, bruises, he needed it. “choke me. please, Bjorn.” You begged, making him go feral. he wrapped his bicep around your throat, flexing his muscles to restrain you even more. you clenched around him, not knowing if you’d be able to last any longer. a breathless moan escapes your lips, your hands gripping the pillow in front of you. suddenly, you felt him grip you by your hair, pulling you up towards him. “Perfect little toy, all just for me.” He whispered into your ear, his arm moving in front of your chest to keep you up. you shuddered at his words, your pussy swallowing him even further. The sound of his heavy breathing and the wet squelching noises their bodies were making echoed throughout the room, amplifying the intensity of the moment. You closed your eyes and focused on enjoying every last drop of his cum as it filled you up completely. While trying to catch your breath, he placed you down on the bed gently, then laid beside you. he rubbed your back as he grabbed your water beside the bed, then got up to start his aftercare routine with you. he loved fucking you every which way you wanted, but loved taking care of you after sex even more. you felt your body go limp as Bjorn held you closer. you curled up more into him with a whimper, resting on his chest and listening to his panting. he looks down at you and kisses you.

[miss-madness67]

Married Woman (Ivar & Bjorn)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[gratelove]

Stay This Time

Bjorn Lothbrok x Reader

Separated by fate but reunited by fire, a childhood bond between Bjorn Lothbrok and a fierce shieldmaiden reignites into a passion as untamed as the storm that brews between you. Bound by choice, not need, you demand your own legacy — but Bjorn vows to stay, not to claim you, but to stand beside you as your equal.

Warnings:p in v, fluff

The clash of steel filled the air, ringing out against the chatter of onlookers. You were locked in a heated practice fight, your breath coming in short, determined bursts as you sparred against one of Kattegat’s men. He was twice your size, but that only drove you to push harder, your movements swift and precise.

With a final twist of your wrist, you swept his legs out from under him and planted your foot on his chest. The crowd erupted in cheers and laughter, and you allowed yourself a proud grin.

From across the training field, a familiar pair of piercing blue eyes watched, filled with curiosity. Bjorn Lothbrok had returned to Kattegat, and though he looked different—stronger, broader, with the air of a man who had seen battles—you recognized him immediately. He was no longer the boy you had once called your best friend, but a warrior who carried himself with a quiet confidence.

Bjorn’s gaze lingered on you, a spark of recognition dawning on his face. It had been years since he left with his mother, and yet here you were, standing tall and fierce before him. His brow furrowed slightly, as if he were piecing together a puzzle.

Suddenly, arms wrapped around your neck and a deep laugh erupted in your ear, breaking your locked gaze. The arms of Rune, your long time friend and recent sexual companion. He left a sloppy kiss on your cheek and you laughed, grabbing his forearm with your small hands. He began to drag you away, but not before you got one last glance at Bjorn, who was still watching you.

_

Later that evening, Kattegat was alive with celebration. The great hall was filled with laughter, the smell of roasting meat, and the clinking of cups. You felt a strange excitement coursing through you, knowing Bjorn was somewhere in the crowd. You stood away from the crowd, leaning against a pillar.

As you sipped from your horn of ale, a voice spoke close to your ear. “I thought I recognized that fierce look on the training field,” Bjorn said, his tone laced with amusement. “You always had the same look on your face when we fight as kids.” The voice made its way to stand directly in front of you.

“If I remember right, I always kicked your ass too.” He laughed, only a few inches away from you. You leaned your head against the wood pillar, tilting it up to meet his gaze. He stood several inches above you, and was definitely not the boy you remembered him to be. He was all muscle, scars, and tattoos now. A true Viking male.

“It was only because I let you win.” You let out a breathy laugh, rolling your eyes.

“Is that what you tell yourself to help you sleep at night? Can’t help being beat by a girl?” His index finger found one of the curls of your hair, playing with it. You breath hitched at his touch.

“Not much of a girl anymore. You’re a woman now.” You raised an eyebrow, trying your hardest to not let him see he’s affecting you.

“Yes, as you are now a man,” you say as your eyes travel down his body, then back up to his eyes. A playful smirk finds his lips as his hand travels down to grab yours.

“Will you dance with me? Or will your boyfriend be angry?” You furrow your brows at his accusation.

“What makes you think I have a boyfriend?”

“I saw that boy you were with earlier.” Your eyes widen in realizing you laugh.

“Rune? He is not my boyfriend. I am no man’s. I belong to no one.” Bjorn smiles and pulls your hand so your flush against him.

“How does such a beautiful woman not have a boyfriend.” He tilted his head in question.

“Because, I will never be known as someone’s wife. I will be known as a shield maiden. People will know my name, not because of who my husband is, but for the person I decided to be.” An expression flashed on Bjorn’s face, one of appreciation. One of respect.

“Good, then you will dance with me.” His gaze was intense on you, his eyes sharp and playful.

“I never said yes.” You squinted at him.

“Come on,” he said, his voice rough with amusement. “Or have you grown too proud to dance with an old friend?”

“Proud,” you shot back. “If anyone’s proud, it’s you.”

He laughed, his grip firm as he tugged you into the swirling crowd of bodies. People moved aside, giving him space as he pulled you in front of him, his hands sliding to your waist with the confidence of someone who never asked permission. You stared up at him, your breath caught in your chest as the world around you blurred into flickering lights and music.

“Show me, then,” he murmured, eyes locked on yours with an intensity that made your heart pound harder than the drums. “Show me if you’re still as wild as you used to be.”

You tilted your head, arching a brow, unwilling to back down. “You’ll have to keep up, Bjorn.”

He grinned, his hands gripping your hips with just enough pressure to make your breath hitch. The music shifted to a deeper, headier rhythm, the steady thump of the drums echoing through your veins. You moved together, your bodies falling into sync as if no time had passed at all.

The air grew thicker with every beat, every sway of your hips. His eyes stayed on you, watching every movement like a predator stalking prey. You matched his energy, rolling your hips slowly, deliberately, knowing exactly what you were doing. His grip tightened in response, his fingers pressing into your sides as his gaze flickered down to where your bodies were almost—but not quite—touching.

“Still think you can handle me, Lothbrok,” you teased, breathless from the thrill of it all.

His eyes snapped back to yours, sharp as a blade’s edge. “I don’t think,” he said, his voice low, rough, and far too close to your ear. “I know.”

Heat spread through you like wildfire. His hands slid up your sides, his fingertips tracing slow, deliberate paths, sending sparks along your skin. The space between you disappeared as he leaned in, his lips so close to your ear you could feel the brush of them when he spoke.

“You’ve grown dangerous,” he murmured, his voice dark and smooth as honeyed mead.

Your heart thundered in your chest, but you refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing you falter. Instead, you spun in his grasp, your back pressed against his chest now, your head tilted just enough to catch the sharp smirk on his face.

“Careful, Bjorn,” you said over your shoulder, your voice a little too breathless for your liking. “You might not be able to handle me after all.”

His breath was hot against your neck as his fingers splayed wide over your stomach, pulling you flush against him. “Try me,” he growled, his voice rough with something far more dangerous than playfulness.

The crowd around you blurred into shadows and firelight. It was just you and him, the rhythm of the music a steady pulse between your bodies. Every movement was deliberate, every roll of your hips matched by his. It wasn’t just dancing anymore — it was a challenge, a battle of control, of tension, and neither of you was willing to surrender.

Your breath came in quick, shallow gasps as you tilted your head back against his shoulder, the warmth of him seeping into your skin. His hands stayed firm, guiding you in a way that felt more like claiming. He wasn’t just following the music — he was commanding it.

“You know how many times I thought about you while I was gone,” he whispered in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. His hands moved from your hips, running up the small of your waist. You spun back around before he had the chance to move further.

“I always knew you had a crush on me,” you teased, as you tangled your hands in his short blonde hair.

His hand cupped the back of your neck, and suddenly his mouth was on yours. The kiss was nothing short of wildfire — fierce, consuming, and utterly unstoppable. His lips were rough but sure, moving against yours like he had been waiting for this moment for far too long. Your breath hitched as you gripped his shoulders, your fingers digging into the leather of his tunic. He pulled you in tighter, crushing you against him as if he could fuse you together.

The crowd around you barely existed now. There was only him — his warmth, his strength, the taste of him on your tongue like honeyed mead and salt. His hand tangled in your hair, tilting your head to deepen the kiss, his teeth grazing your bottom lip just enough to make you gasp. He took advantage of it, his tongue sliding against yours with a slow, deliberate intensity that made your knees weaken.

But you weren’t about to be undone by him.

Your hands moved to his jaw, your fingers tracing the sharp edges of his beard, then fisting in his hair as you tilted his head back, taking control of the kiss. He groaned, low and deep, a sound that rumbled through his chest. His arms wrapped fully around your waist, his grip unrelenting, as if he was afraid you might slip away.

When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathing hard, your foreheads pressed together. His eyes were still on yours, wild and unyielding, his lips swollen from the kiss. You were sure you looked just as wrecked.

“Still think I can’t handle you?” he murmured, his voice rougher now, like it had been dragged over stone.

“Not bad,” you admitted, a slow grin tugging at your lips. “But you’re not the only one who’s learned a few things.”

His laugh was deep and raw, the kind that made your chest tighten in the most infuriating way. His gaze dipped down to your lips again, and he leaned in, his voice nothing more than a husky whisper. “Then show me.”

Your heart pounded so hard it echoed in your ears. For a moment, you glanced around at the hall — the firelight, the laughter, the crowd still dancing and drinking. None of it mattered. Not anymore. The only thing that mattered was the steady thrum of his heartbeat under your palm, the unspoken challenge in his eyes, and the heat that had coiled low in your belly, too strong to ignore.

“Follow me,” you said, your voice low but certain.

His eyes flashed with something wild and untamed. Without hesitation, his hand slid down to grip yours, his fingers lacing with yours like it was the most natural thing in the world. He let you lead him, weaving through the crowd.

The cool night air hit your face as you stepped outside, but it did nothing to cool the fire burning under your skin. His fingers stayed locked with yours, his grip firm but never controlling. You led him through the winding paths of Kattegat, past dimly lit streets and the distant sound of waves crashing against the shore.

Your home wasn’t far, but the walk felt longer with him so close behind you, his eyes boring into your back. Every step felt like an eternity, every brush of his fingers a spark against your skin. When you finally reached the door, you glanced over your shoulder, catching the way he was looking at you — his eyes half-lidded, his breathing uneven, like a wolf that had just found its prey.

“Are you going to stand there staring,” you teased, reaching for the latch, “or are you coming in?”

The words barely left your mouth before his hands were on you again, spinning you around and pressing you back against the door. His mouth was on yours before you could finish drawing breath, his kiss searing, desperate, and all-consuming. You fumbled with the latch, both of you too caught up in the pull of each other to care. The door gave way behind you, and you stumbled inside, still tangled in each other’s arms.

He kicked the door shut behind him, his hands already moving over your back, your waist, pulling you against him. His fingers traced the curve of your spine, pressing you closer until you could feel every inch of him, hard and unyielding. Your fingers worked at the laces of his tunic, tugging them free with urgency, and he let out a sharp breath against your lips, his forehead resting against yours for just a moment.

“You’re impatient,” he murmured, his voice thick with that familiar cocky edge.

“Don’t pretend you’re any better,” you shot back, pulling the leather from his shoulders.

His grin was wicked and full of promise. “Fair point.”

He pushed you gently, guiding you backward until your back hit the wall. His lips were on your neck now, slow and deliberate, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin just below your jaw. Your head tipped back, a gasp escaping your lips as your hands found his bare chest, tracing the hard lines of muscle. Every scar you touched was a story he’d never have to tell, and you found yourself memorizing each one.

His lips returned to yours, his kiss more focused now — no longer a clash of wills, but something deeper, something hotter. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, and his groan reverberated against your lips.

“Tell me to stop,” he muttered against your mouth, his voice so low and raw it sent a shiver down your spine. “Tell me now, and I will.”

You pulled back just enough to meet his eyes. They were dark, wild, but there was something steady there too — a flicker of restraint, a promise to pull back if you asked. But you didn’t want him to pull back. Not tonight.

“Don’t stop,” you said, your voice steady, your gaze unwavering.

His eyes searched yours for half a heartbeat, then something inside him snapped. His hands were on you again, rough but never careless, lifting you with ease. Your legs wrapped around his waist as he carried you further inside, his lips never leaving yours. Your back hit the fur covered bed and Bjorn quickly reconnected your lips.

Bjorn’s hands were everywhere — rough, warm, and possessive as they roamed the curves of your body. The air in your home was thick with the scent of pinewood, firelight flickering against the walls, but none of it mattered. The only thing you could focus on was him — the weight of him above you, the feel of his body pressed so tightly against yours it was hard to tell where you ended and he began.

His mouth was on yours again, hungrier than before. His kisses were fire and steel, each one hot enough to sear away every rational thought. His beard was rough against your skin, but you didn’t care. If anything, you welcomed the sensation — the way it grounded you in the wild, electric storm of him. Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging just hard enough to draw a low, guttural groan from his chest.

“Still think you’re in control?” he rasped, his lips brushing against the hollow of your throat, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there.

“Don’t mistake patience for surrender,” you shot back, breathless but still defiant. Your legs tightened around his waist, locking him in place. “If I wanted to stop you, Bjorn, you’d already be on your back.”

That earned you a sharp, wicked grin. His hands gripped your thighs, fingers digging in just hard enough to make your heart race faster. “Is that right?” he muttered against your collarbone, his voice rough like the scrape of stone on steel. He nipped at your skin, drawing a gasp from you, and then soothed the spot with his tongue, slow and deliberate. “I’d like to see you try.”

“You will,” you promised, tilting his head up so his eyes met yours, fierce and unyielding. “But not tonight.”

His breath caught, his grin faltering for half a heartbeat before it returned, sharper now, more dangerous. “Then I’ll take what you give me,” he said, his eyes locked on yours with a heat that threatened to consume you both. “But know this — I’m not gentle.”

“Good,” you said, your lips brushing against his. “I don’t want gentle.”

The moment you said it, he surged forward, capturing your mouth with a kiss so fierce it left you breathless. There was no more teasing now, no more restraint. His hands were on your waist, pulling you closer, his body pressed so tightly against yours it felt like he was trying to carve himself into your bones. The heat between you was unbearable, every brush of his skin against yours sending sparks down your spine.

You fought back, of course. Your hands explored his chest, nails raking lightly down his skin, tracing old scars and new ones alike. His muscles tensed under your touch, and you felt his sharp inhale, his body shuddering slightly under the weight of your touch.

His hands found the hem of your tunic, sliding under to rest against the bare skin of your waist. The warmth of his palms sent a shiver down your spine, and you arched into him, your breath catching as his thumbs stroked slow, lazy circles against your skin.

“You’re quiet now,” he teased, his breath hot against your ear. “Where’s all that clever talk from before?”

“Careful, Bjorn,” you warned, turning your head just enough so your lips brushed the shell of his ear. “You might regret what you’re asking for. Most men don’t want a woman who dominates them.”

He growled, the sound raw and primal, vibrating low in his chest. His eyes met yours again, his pupils blown wide with something wild and untamed. “I want all of it,” he said, his voice low and dark as a storm on the horizon. “Every part.”

You swallowed hard, heart pounding so hard it echoed in your ears. You weren’t sure who moved first, but suddenly, he was on his back, his eyes wide with shock before a grin broke across his face. You were straddling him, your hands on his chest, pinning him down with a grin that matched his own.

His laughter was sharp and wild, his eyes bright with pride and something else — something hotter. “There she is,” he said, his voice full of approval, his hands gripping your hips with bruising strength. “That’s the girl I remember.”

“She’s still here,” you said, leaning down so your face was just inches from his.

“And by the gods, how I’ve missed her.” His eyes darkened, his grin fading into something more serious, more dangerous. His hand moved from your hip to the back of your neck, pulling you down into another kiss, this one slower, deeper, like he was no longer rushing to win. No, this wasn’t about victory anymore — it was about savoring every second, every taste, every inch of you.

His hands roamed your back, your sides, gripping, holding, claiming. You felt his heart pounding under your palm, wild and fast, just like your own. The steady thrum of it matched yours beat for beat, as if the two of you were caught in the same storm.

“Say it,” he muttered against your lips, his voice hoarse with need. “Say you missed me.”

You pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, those blue eyes that had haunted your dreams for years. “I missed you,” you admitted, breathless but unashamed. “More than you’ll ever know.”

His breath hitched, and for a moment, something softened in his gaze. His hand cupped the side of your face, his thumb brushing your cheek with a tenderness you hadn’t expected. “I missed you too,” he said, his voice so quiet you almost didn’t hear it. “More than I should have.”

For a heartbeat, the world slowed. The only sound was the distant crackle of the fire, the only light the flicker of its glow. His eyes searched yours, his gaze raw and open in a way you hadn’t seen before. The weight of it settled deep in your chest, warm and aching all at once.

But then the storm returned.

His lips were on yours, fiercer than before, his hands pulling you down against him like he never wanted to let go. Your hands were in his hair, tugging hard enough to make him groan, his teeth grazing your bottom lip. He flipped you again, his body pressing you into the bed, his weight a welcome, grounding presence.

There were no more words after that, just the sound of your breaths mingling, the scrape of rough hands on soft skin, and the steady, unrelenting crash of two people who had been apart for far too long. It was wild. It was reckless. And it was everything you had been waiting for.

Your fingers clawed at his back, your legs tangled with his as the heat between you grew unbearable. Every touch was fire, every kiss a clash of wills. You lost track of time, of space, of anything but him. His name was a whisper on your lips, and yours was a growl on his.

He quickly undid the ties of his pants, pulling them down. You did the same to yours, neither of you seemingly able to move fast enough. He grabbed your hands, pinning them above your head. He buried himself in you and you let out a cry of pleasure. He was true to his word. He was not gentle. His thrusts were fast and rough, and you basked in the immense pleasure of him pounding into you. Your head fell against the pillow, your eyes rolling back. He was hitting you deeper and deeper with each thrust.

You met his gaze and he was a thing of beauty. His blonde hair clung to his forehead and his piercing blue eyes drank in your appearance. His muscles tightened under his scarred and tattooed skin as he relished in the pleasure of his cock inside you. If you could see this for the rest of your life you may die happy, you thought to yourself.

With your legs wrapped around his waist, you used your strength to flip yourselves over, once again. You were now on top, palms flat against his muscles pecks. You pushed into them, using them as leverage to grind on him. You moved your hips back and forth, watching as his mouth fell open in pleasure. His hands squeezed your waist, pushing you back and forth with more speed. Your head fell back as you began to bounce up and down on his length. You let out a loud moan at his deep he was entering you.

His hands clasped your breasts as you bounced faster and faster. He let out an animalistic groan and you matched it with your own moans. You could feel the pressure building in your lower stomach. You were so close to the edge.

“Bjorn,” you moaned his name, earning a moan from him. Your movements became sloppier as you reached the edge. You finally tipped over the edge, a wave of ecstasy washing over you.

You kept up your movements until Bjorn hit his climax. You felt him spill into you and you let out one last moan, before falling next to him on the bed. He wrapped his arm around your naked body, pulling you into him.

When it was over, you lay tangled together, your breath still coming in shallow gasps, the heat of his body a steady, grounding presence against yours. His fingers traced lazy patterns on your arm, his head resting against your shoulder as he lay beside you.

Silence hung between you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was the kind of silence that comes after a storm, calm and steady, like the world had finally decided to give you peace.

“You’ll stay this time,” you said softly, turning to face him.

His eyes met yours, steady and sure. He reached up, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I’m done running,” he said, his voice firm with resolve. “I have nothing to run from anymore.”

Your eyes searched his, looking for doubt but finding none. You nodded, your heart a steady thrum of warmth and certainty. “Good,” you murmured, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips. “Because I won’t let you leave again.”

He didn’t answer at first. His eyes searched yours, and for a moment, you wondered if he would say something reckless, something that would make you shove him right back out the door.

But then he smirked, his thumb brushing slow circles over your skin. “I thought you didn’t want a man tying you down,” he said softly, his voice teasing but not cruel. “Didn’t you say you didn’t need a husband or a man to be remembered?”

Your heart stuttered in your chest, but you didn’t look away. Instead, you tilted your head toward him, letting your fingers trace the edge of his jaw. His beard was rough beneath your fingertips, but his eyes were soft now, softer than you’d ever seen them.

“I don’t,” you replied simply, brushing your thumb over his cheek. “I don’t need a man to carve my name into the sagas.”

His grin widened, slow and wolfish, but he didn’t interrupt.

“But,” you continued, your voice strong and clear, “if I choose to have one at my side, he’ll be there because I want him to be. Not because I need him. And not because he defines me.”

His grin faded, replaced by something deeper. His eyes, sharp as they were, held something raw and unguarded now. His fingers squeezed your hip, his grip firm but not possessive. “You are an exceptional woman. I never wish to change you. I never wish to define you. I will stay,” he said quietly, his eyes locked on yours like he was making a vow before the gods themselves. “I will stay because I want to stand beside you. It would be an honor to be know as yours.” His voice lowered into something rougher, more honest. “If you’ll have me.”

You blinked slowly, the weight of his words settling into your chest like a steady, thrumming beat. It wasn’t possession. It wasn’t control. It was choice. And that made all the difference.

You leaned forward, pressing your forehead to his, your eyes closing as the warmth of him surrounded you. Your voice was soft but steady when you replied, “Then stay, Bjorn Lothbrok. Stay and see if you can keep up.”

His sharp inhale was followed by a low chuckle, his breath warm against your lips. “I’d like to see you try and leave me behind,” he murmured, his voice filled with a challenge you both knew would never truly be tested.

You tilted your head, brushing your lips against his, slow and deliberate. “I don’t think I could, even if I wanted to.”

[professonalarttheclownfan]

Bjorn Ironside

Not So Useless

tw- mentions of weight

Bjørn X plus size female reader

Every woman that ever saw Bjørn Ironside would tell you how unbelievably gorgeous the man is. That he was an incredible warrior with the heart of a bear, and you wholeheartedly agreed.

You had been quite fond of his mother Lagertha, she had been kind when others were cruel. It was common for you the get insults cast your way, being a bigger woman meant people some how thought you were dim & useless, but you worked hard and knew how to handle an axe.

You finished your day helping harvest crops with your farther and made your way to the woods in the surrounding area. The axe your farther gifted you sheathed in a leather holster round your waist. Once you had arrived to your destination, you shrugged off your furs and hooded cloak grabbing the small basket you had hidden between a rock and tree containing your bow and arrow.

Small targets dotted the trees trunks and the sun poked through the leaves casting a golden light, it’s was beautiful, your favourite place on earth, no judgement, no harsh words, no sneers.

You, your axe and the beautiful surroundings. Your happy place.

You pulled your axe free, rolling your shoulders in order to loosen them up. With out missing a beat you hurled your axe, like always it hit the target dead centre.

Bjørn had spotted the targets a little ways away, intrigued he walked further into the woods toward the clearing where you stood. He had taken a walk to try get away from his brothers, a breath of fresh air always seemed to help his racing mind. Thats when he saw you, you hadn’t noticed his approach at first. Being far to immersed in what you were doing you threw the axe again, narrowly missing the princes head. You let out a small scream, proceeding to apologise profusely. Cheeks burning red at the embarrassment, followed by almost instantly feeling self conscious at the fact you hadn’t hid your body under your cloak like usual. Although you wore a dress, you felt nude without it.

Bjørn was immensely impressed by you, you threw and swung your axe with precision and shot your arrow with ease. You’d make a fine shield maiden. You’d also make a fine wife too, he found himself smiling at the thought.

He’d always known of you his mother would speak kindly of you telling him that you were a hard worker with the heart of a true warrior. But to him you were nearly a stranger you’d be quick to make an exit when he was around, so he always thought you disliked him which is why he’s never approached you, he’d never want to make such a beautiful woman as yourself uncomfortable. His gaze would always fall upon you if you were near taking you all in, this sadly meant he was often teased by his brothers for liking the “far to plump woman”.

When he saw you bathed in a golden light and with a axe in your hand he and almost instantly felt himself fall in love. He imagined he’d melt if he ever saw you in armour.

He’d never been around a woman like you, you were soft yet strong, curvy & agile. Like you could bare his children but kill 100 men with ease.

“You are full of surprises y/n” he laughed showing his perfect smile, your stomach fluttered. “Never thought you were one to throw axes.”

“Well im glad I could surprise you, people are quick to assume im not good at anything.” You’d finally spoke, your voice was a sound he was yet to hear before this moment, and it was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard. “I do apologise for nearly taking your head off though, im sure you’d rather keep it attached to your neck”

Bjørn stepped into the small clearing walking toward you, taking in every inch of you as he did when ever he saw you. Wondering if you were sent by the gods. Handcrafted just for him.

“I’d like to start training with you, you’re a lot calmer then my brothers and a lot more pleasing on the eyes” he said as he placed a gentle hand on your upper arm, looking down at you, a small smile crossed his lips again.

“Of course you can train with me, I’d like the company. But I just hope your not seen with me. I wouldn’t wish for you to be teased or be spoken badly about for being seen with me” your insecurities seeped through from your words. Bjørns smile turned into a frown, he knew people had said unpleasant things to you. Unbeknownst to you there had been times where he’d over heard rude comments made about you, and he’d have no choice but to put them in their place. He hated that you ever thought he’d be embarrassed to be seen with such a beauty as yourself.

“Y/n, any man or person that has something unpleasant to say is a fool. You’re beautiful.”

Your breath hitched in your throat, Bjørn Ironside. The most sought after man was calling you beautiful.

“If you’re saying that to bed me please don’t. I don’t want to be someone’s dirty little secret” there had been many times men have asked you to bed with them, wanting to know what it was like with a bigger woman, but would be highly embarrassed if others were to find out, so you’d reject them and they’d be quick to go back to throwing venomous words at you. Bjørns face twisted, hurt by your words. He and his brothers were known to have their way with females. So he knew deep down that it was a genuine worry. But no, he meant every word. Training with you would give him opportunity to make you fall for him too.

“No, y/n. You caught my eye years ago. To be given the opportunity to train with you will also give me the opportunity to get to know you.” He caught your eyes, the circular blue pools making you weak at the knees.

“Come to the feast with me tonight, allow me to show you I do not care what others think. You are beautiful to me regardless of what ever anyone one else thinks, and if they were to say anything they will be promptly dealt with. I would love to get to know your mind to and what lays deeper behind your beauty. So please consider it” his hand was still on your upper arm, luckily your dress was long sleeves so he couldn’t feel the goosebumps that now lined your skin. He leaned down to place a soft kiss on your cheek. This really did feel like a dream.

Despite your nerves, and being not 100% convinced. You wouldn’t know if you didn’t agree to it.

You nodded, humming a yes. Causing Bjørns smile to fill out once again.

[voluxpa]

CRÉDITER LUX.

[comradekarin]

listen, i do not play about bjorn or lagertha. why the fuck does it sound like floki and the king is plotting to kill him bjorn-

[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 🫶🏻

[gulnarsultan]

Please write more Yandere Ragnar and his childrenhos... I'm loving it too much! 🥺♥️

(Sorry for any spelling mistakes... English is not my first language)

Hello. Do not worry. English is not my first language. And your request is well written for me to understand. I hope you will like it. Feel free to write more requests.

You became pregnant shortly after you married your Yandere husband, Ragnar. After your first child, Bjorn, was born, Ragnar wanted more children from you. After you became pregnant with your son, you stopped running and fighting. You were determined to be a good mother for your son. Maybe you thought that after a while you would forgive Ragnar. Honestly, he would never show you physical violence. When you were very angry, you would raise your voice from time to time. You and Ragnar had nine healthy children.

Your children's birth order and their names are in this order:

Bjorn

Gyda

Lova

Eirik

Ubbe

Hvitserk

Sigurd

Ivar

Aghda  

You love each and every one of your children very much. You try to be a good mother to them as best you can. You love sewing clothes and preparing toys for your children. You comb your girls' hair and shape them with different braids. You want them to know how to defend themselves. You sing songs, stories and lullabies to your children. You try to be a good wife in Ragnar. He will never let you go raiding with him. When Ragnar and your children are injured and sick, you get very worried and don't leave them for a minute.

[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.

[neon-junkie]

[waiting4inspiration]

Stories IV (Bjorn x Mermaid!Reader)

Summary: You find Bjorn injured and take him to a cave where you can heal him. He sees a figure in the water when you are away. You see the same woman after saying goodbye to Bjorn and something strange happens to you.

Warnings: strong language, mythical elements, angst, fluff, a long-anticipated 4th part is finally here

Word Count: +3k

Part 1 II Part 2 II Part 3 II Vikings Masterlist

There are only so many places you can go to look for Bjorn, where streams, rivers, and other bodies of water link up to the fjord you were released into by Hvitserk during the raid on Kattegat. Still, you’re determined to find him no matter what. You can’t bear to think that he has died for something like... the title of King. 

It’s almost like hunting, sensing any prey moving around in the water or at the edge of the water. If it’s not Bjorn you find and instead another human, you can make them find him. You can be intimidating if you want to, even though you haven’t used your intimidating looks in a long time. Maybe the feeling of your nails turning into claws will feel weird to you. But if it will work to get someone to help you then so be it. 

You sense something in the distance, like a call to you through vibrations in the water. Pausing for a moment, you wait to see if you feel it again just to make sure it’s something and that you’re not following a dead end. But you sense it again. And you know it’s blood. Human blood. 

It’s not hunger that pushes you forward, propelling you through the water. It’s fear. You know what’s going on out there in the surface world. You know that there’s a war going on and you know that Bjorn is involved in it. You know that where there’s blood, there’s a man and if he’s still alive, you can find Bjorn and make sure that he’s alright. 

The stronger the smell of blood gets, the quicker you swim, popping your head out of the water every now and then to see if you can see something before you get to it. When the water starts turning red, stained with blood, your heart drops in your chest.

Then you see it. The figure that had set your senses off. And you’d know that braid of hair anywhere. “Fuck,” you mutter before pushing yourself forward. With just a few flicks of your tail, you get to the water’s edge and to Bjorn lying face down with his hand in the water.

Pushing yourself half out of the water, your tail still in the water, you roll him over onto his back and see a broken arrow embedded in his chest. “Shit,” you whisper, turning your attention to his face that you cup between your hands, hoping that his eyes open. 

His eyes flutter open at your touch and that’s enough for you to pull him into the water with you. Keeping his body close to yours as you swim with his head above water, you can feel his slow heart beating against his chest. You can feel the breath in his lungs, the life in his body. 

It’s hard to keep yourself above the surface with Bjorn dragging you down, but the determination inside of you to keep him alive and safe is enough to keep your tail beating against the currents. You hear him muttering your name, your head turning down to him for a second. Fearing that he doesn’t have much time left, you force yourself to go faster, ignoring how tired you are. 

You finally get to where you want, an underwater cave where you push yourself to go faster than ever because you don’t want the already unstable man in your arms to drown. But when he’s finally on the rocky surface, you can allow your tail to rest for a moment. Your tail can rest, but your mind cannot. You try to push aside the constant warnings that he does not have a lot of time, that whatever you need to do, you must do it now. 

Your claws come out without even a thought, ripping open the tunic covering his chest to inspect his wounds. The thundering in your heart deafens you to the dripping sounds in the cavern or how Bjorn calls out your name again. Now that you know what his wounds look like, you know what you need. You only hope that these seas have what you need. 

Bjorn’s eyes catch sight of your tail before you disappear under the water. He smiles to himself, happy that his plan to find you worked, happy that you had stayed, that you didn’t swim away home when you were released. But most of all, he’s happy that you’re alive and out of Ivar’s reach now. 

His mind goes blank, thinking about you, imagining the glee you must have felt to be back in open water. In his mind, he can see the way your tail flicks in excitement and the smile on your face to be out of the confinement of the tank you were living in. He wishes he could see it himself.

He feels something against his face, something wet that breaks him out of his dreams, and his eyes snap open to find you hovering above him. There’s a glowing light around you, making him think he’s still in a dream. Perhaps he has gone to Valhalla and you are a part of his. 

“Tell me you’re alive,” you whisper to him, caressing the side of his face with the back of your hand. 

He reaches up to touch your hand, taking it in his as he smiles. “Only if you were the one to save me,” he whispers back, his eyes adjusting to the light of the cave so that he can see you smiling down at him. 

“I thought I couldn’t,” you say, moving closer to him as you glance down to his chest, his wounds now covered in a substance that you had made with sea life, a substance your kind uses to heal wounds. You didn’t think it would work above the water, but it did. “You have different sea life here than at home. But it worked.”

“And I didn’t think you would find me. I thought you had gone back to the sea. But I thought that if there was still hope that you stayed, maybe you could find me by my blood,” he says, trying to move but you stop him by placing a firm hand on his chest. 

You laugh at his words, shifting closer and causing your tail to move out of the water. “It worked. And now you should rest while I look for food,” you say, reaching up to caress his cheek. 

He grabs your wrist, almost as if he’s asking you to stay. But he’s not strong enough to keep his grip on your wrist. You smile gently at him, the softest you’ve ever given him, and you lean closer to his face. Then, you start singing in a language Bjorn has never heard before. It sounds like a lullaby from the soft, gentle melody leaving your lips. He wonders if it’s the song you said your kind uses to lure men to their deaths. If it is, at least he will be happy when he dies. 

When he drifts into a restful state, you smile down at him and continue to caress his face. Your eyes drift down to his lips, your fingers making their way down to them as you remember how close you’ve come to kissing him, the times when he wanted to kiss you but you stopped him. You stopped him not because you didn’t want to kiss him, but because you didn’t want the story of The Mother to be true and you end up turning him into a merman. It would not suit him. He is the King of his people and how can a King lead if he does not live with his people. 

Thinking about that now, you make it a note in your mind to make a stop before hunting for food. You’re going to find out what happened with the war and if there are still people fighting. You’re going to find out if there is a way Bjorn can get back the throne that is his.

When Bjorn wakes, the cavern is quiet except for the dripping sound somewhere in the distance. He opens his eyes, and pushes himself up to look around to find you. But you are not at the water’s edge. He almost misses another figure in the water, his head doing a double take and looking in the distance at the head just jutting out of the water’s surface. 

“(Y/n)?” he calls, squinting to see if it is you. 

It’s not you. He sees that when the figure moves closer. Bjorn shifts back, cautious that this is another mermaid that has found him and sees him as prey. He moves away from the edge of the water, but the woman keeps moving forward. 

But when she gets to the shoreline, Bjorn can see that she does not have a tail like you have. Instead, she has legs. She smiles down at him, holding out her hands to show that she means him no harm. “Who are you?” he asks, his voice echoing in the cave as she comes to kneel down in front of him. 

She said something to him, but it is as if her voice gets lost in the air, the sound floating around him as she rests her hands on his chest. He feels a stir in her heart and it’s as if the breath is being pushed out of his lungs. Then he hears her last words before his mind goes black. 

“Give her a good life.”

His eyes open when he hears rocks clicking together, echoing in the cavern. When he sits up and turns to the sound, he sees you propped up with two stones in your hand and a makeshift fireplace beside you, and a big fish next to it. You mutter curses to yourself as you continue to strike the rocks together. Bjorn can tell that you’re trying to start a fire. 

Before he pushes himself up, he looks out to the water where he saw the woman. He tries to figure out if it was a dream or if it happened. Considering the wounds he has, he must have been in a fever that caused him to be in and out of dreams. 

“I didn’t think you knew how to make fire,” he speaks, catching your attention and making you turn to look at him. 

You laugh, shrug your shoulders, and look back down at the rocks in your hands. “I don’t know anything about it. Only that you use it to cook food because you do not eat it raw like I do,” you say, looking down at your tail. “I only know things to do with water.”

Bjorn moves closer to you, sitting beside you, and reaches for the rocks in your hands. “I will teach you if you want to learn,” he says, his fingers brushing against yours as he takes the rocks from you. 

Nodding your head, you train your eyes on his hands to watch him strike the stones together with such skill that it only takes a few tries before you see a spark. Seeing the spark makes you gasp in excitement, your eyes growing wide to see him do it again. Then, one final strike lights the fire pit. 

“You built it well. Strong,” he mentions, smiling at you as he reaches for the fish you had brought back on your hunt. 

You smile, happy with the praise given to you. “I watched you do it,” you say, looking up at him in glee. He imagines that it’s the same look you had on your face when you saw the open ocean again to hunt. 

And yet, you still came back to him. 

“I went back to Kattegat,” you mention when he starts to cook the fish. His eyes snap up to you, his jaw tightening at the thought that you might have put yourself in danger. “Hvitserk is still fighting against Ivar. There are still people that are loyal to you,” you explain, thinking that he would be happy to hear that. But he instead casts his attention back to the fish. “When you are strong again, you can fight back again.”

“And what about you?” he asks, your smile falling from your face at the question. 

“What about me?”

“What if I win? Would you want to go back into that tank now that you are free?” he asks. “I do not think I could do that to you again.”

He doesn’t look at you but you can see there is guilt in his mind. You reach out to lift his gaze by touching his cheek. “This is my home now. I cannot go back to where you found me. I will stay in the fjord and all you have to do is call me and I will come,” you say, shifting closer to him, your tail making the water splash around it. “I can help as much as I can in this fight. Whoever is closest to the water, I can take.”

Seeing your enthusiasm to fight and give him back this throne makes him smile. Knowing that you have decided to stay makes him all the happier. He leans forward, pressing his forehead against yours, knowing that if he tries to kiss you, you will only pull away again. He knows you have some kind of fear in your mind about it, but he doesn’t know what. 

You rest your forehead against him, leaning into his touch when he cups your cheek. The quietness in the cave makes this moment all the more intimate. There is no shouting from outside like there was when you were in his room in Kattegat and you know there is no way someone can burst in and interrupt the two of you. 

It’s perfect. And you wish to have more moments like this in the future.

You’re surprised at how quickly Bjorn’s strength came back. You thought that it was almost as if The Mother had blessed him to heal quickly. It took him a day to be back on his feet and the next day, you’re confident that he is strong enough to go back and fight again. You can only imagine that the cold cave isn’t the best environment for a human to stay in. It’s ideal for you as a mermaid because of the dampness and you think that you might come back here after Bjorn is king again. 

When the sun has set and you’re both ready to leave the cave, you lead Bjorn into the water where you both float on the surface where the underwater entrance is. You take his hand in yours, smiling gently at him as your other hand comes to his shoulder. “Take a deep breath,” you whisper, moving closer to him.

He can feel the fins brushing against his legs, reminding him of when he swam with you in that pond. He remembers the moment he had with you under the water. “Don’t eat me,” he teases, making you laugh as you start pushing him down by his shoulders when he takes a deep breath. 

“I’ll try not to,” you tease back, with a big smile on your face. 

Bjorn swims with you, knowing that you’re taking it slow and that you’re not swimming at your normal speed so that you can keep up with him. It’s always amazing to see you swim. The way your tail moves in the water is so strong and so majestic, the bubbles forming in the water seem to be like little pearls leaving your tail. It only makes his decision to not cage you anymore stronger. 

Hvitserk is waiting for Bjorn at the boat builder’s house, not far from your cave. When you get there, Bjorn pushes himself out of the water and onto the dock where a boat rests beside it. You pull yourself up to rest your arms on the wood, keeping your tail in the water. Bjorn sits beside you, his legs hanging off the edge as he reaches for your hand. 

“Don’t die away from the water where I cannot save you again,” you say, holding his hand tightly. “If you are hurt again, go to the water and I will find you.”

Bjorn can tell that you’re scared that this fight isn’t going to go well. You’re scared that he will get hurt again and you won’t be able to save him again. You’re scared to lose him. 

He cups your face in his hands, leaning closer to you as you push yourself farther up to get closer to his face. “I will see you again. This I promise,” he whispers, causing you to smile. 

You know that there are men at the end of the dock watching the two of you. They only heard stories about you, only being able to see part of your tail during the movement from the Great Hall to the pond. This must be the first time they’re seeing you in your full glory. But you don’t care. 

You mutter a small prayer to The Mother before you do what you do next. 

Pushing yourself up more, you press your lips to Bjorn’s, finally kissing him as you wanted to do for the past few days. You push away the fear that your kiss might turn him into a merman, thinking that if he is on land and you don’t pull him into the water, it won’t change him and he’ll remain a man.

Bjorn pulls your face closer to his, relieved that you have finally allowed him to kiss you. He kisses you back, his hands weaving through your damp hair. He wants this moment to last forever, but when Hvitserk calls his name, making you pull out of the kiss. But you keep your forehead against him and he keeps his against yours. 

“I will meet you at the docks in Kattegat when it is over,” you whisper to him. 

Instead of saying anything in response, Bjorn just places another kiss to your lips before he lets you go back into the water. The last he sees before you disappear under the water in the fins of your tail. 

As you swim, you feel something stirring in your chest. Your vision goes blurry and it’s like your lungs are screaming for air. Unsure what’s happening when your tail starts to falter, not allowing you to swim forward anymore, you quickly breach the surface and take a deep breath of air. 

Breathing the fresh air outside of the water has never given you such relief. You pull yourself out of the water, and onto the shore with a tree canopy overhead. Your heart beats wildly in your chest as you glance down to your tail, only to find that your scales and fins have started to disappear. It’s as if your tail starts to split in half, but you feel no pain. And when the scales fade, the skin replaces them, and feet and toes replace your bottom fins. 

Hearing someone walking closer to you, you lift your head and see a woman a few feet away from you, holding a pile of clothes in her arms and a loving smile on her face. You know exactly who she is. 

The Mother.

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