#Rollo lothbrok fanfiction

[gratelove]

Okay yall, I’m a little late to the party, but Rollo Lothbrok🫣 I’m only on season 3 of Vikings and I’m officially in love with the beauty of this man. Be prepared for more Vikings fics🤤 Also, this is a LONG fic, but it’s worth it!🥹

Bridge Between Worlds

Rollo Lothbrok x Reader

In a marriage arranged for political alliance, you, a Christian princess, and the Viking warrior Rollo find yourselves unexpectedly drawn together, bridging the divide between your faiths, cultures, and hearts.

Warnings: smut, fluff, struggles with faith, religion, drinking, cursing

The grand hall fell silent as your father’s voice rang out, echoing through the stone walls. His words seemed to linger in the air, heavy with purpose, like a chain slipping over your wrists. “The Northmen have proposed an alliance, my daughter,” he said, his gaze steady as he looked at you. “King Ragnar has offered his brother, Rollo Lothbrok, to wed you. This marriage will bring peace to our lands and protection from their raids.”

The room seemed to close in, the walls pressing down as you struggled to breathe. Marry a Northman? The very thought filled you with dread. You’d heard tales of these people—warriors who worshipped strange gods, men who swept through villages like storms, leaving only ruin in their wake. And now, to bind yourself to one of them, to Rollo Lothbrok of all people… It was unthinkable.

“But, Father,” you protested, your voice wavering. “Surely, there must be another way to secure peace. A treaty, a negotiation—anything but marriage.”

Your father’s gaze softened, but his voice held the iron weight of duty. “This is the only way, my daughter. We need this alliance. You have always known that your marriage would serve a greater purpose, and now that purpose is upon us.”

You felt a lump rise in your throat. Your life had been a careful sequence of preparations for this role, every lesson, every sermon instilling in you the virtue of self-sacrifice. You’d known that one day your life would be bound to someone chosen for you, but you had always imagined it would be to a noble from a nearby kingdom, someone who shared your faith, your values. Not to a pagan warrior from a distant, brutal land. A beast more than a man.

And yet, you had no choice. The Northmen’s proposal had been clear, and your father had already accepted it. The fate you had so long been prepared for was now sealed.

***

The day of your wedding dawned, cloaked in an eerie stillness. The grand church where you were to wed Rollo was adorned with flowers and candles, symbols of a sacred union. You wore a gown of fine lace, your veil trailing behind you like a whisper of grace. You felt numb, as if moving through a dream—or a nightmare—waiting for the moment to be over, waiting for the reality of it to settle.

Rollo stood at the altar, a tall, imposing figure, his features set in a mask of silent defiance. He looked as out of place as you felt, his gaze hard and unyielding, his mouth a tight line. When he glanced your way, his eyes were unreadable, a mixture of resentment and resignation. It was clear that he, too, had little desire for this union.

The priest began the ceremony, his voice a steady drone of Latin prayers. You barely heard the words, your mind elsewhere, tangled in memories of home, family, the life you were leaving behind. Each phrase, each gesture, seemed hollow, an imitation of the wedding you’d once imagined as a child. This was supposed to be a moment of joy, of love. But there was no warmth here, only the cold formality of duty.

When the priest instructed Rollo to take your hand, he did so without meeting your gaze, his grip firm but impersonal. His hands were rough, scarred from battle, the hands of a man who had known violence more than tenderness. You felt the weight of his touch, solid and unyielding, a reminder that you were bound now to this stranger.

The priest continued, his voice a solemn echo as he blessed your union, but you could see the slight hesitation in his eyes. This marriage between a Christian princess and a heathen warrior defied every tradition, every vow that was meant to sanctify it. And yet, the ceremony proceeded, binding you together in the eyes of your God and your people.

When the vows were exchanged, Rollo spoke the words in a language foreign to him, his voice thick with an accent that turned each promise into something distant, almost detached. You struggled to keep your voice steady as you repeated your own vows, feeling as though you were surrendering more than your hand. You were giving up your life, your dreams, to a man who would never understand you, nor you him.

As the ceremony ended, the church fell silent, a strange, somber quiet lingering between you and Rollo. The people gathered offered their restrained applause, their faces a mixture of relief and curiosity. To them, this was a strategic victory, a bridge between two worlds, but to you and Rollo, it was a prison.

You stole a glance at him, trying to discern any hint of emotion in his eyes. But his face remained a stoic mask, unreadable and distant, as if he, too, were waiting for this day to be over.

That night, as the festivities continued, you and Rollo exchanged only the briefest of nods, acknowledging each other out of obligation more than anything else. You sat at opposite ends of the grand table, separated by language, by faith, by the vast chasm of your different worlds.

And so, as the night grew darker, you resigned yourself to this new life, feeling like a stranger in your own skin. Bound by vows spoken in words that felt foreign, you wondered if you would ever find warmth in the cold, unyielding presence of the man you now called your husband—or if this marriage would remain as empty and silent as the vows you had uttered in that grand, hollow church.

***

The sea air of Kattegat was colder than anything you’d known back home. The winds held a bite, reminding you each day that you were far from the familiar warmth of your homeland. It had been a month since you’d arrived, a month of silent days and sleepless nights in a place that felt like another world. Though married, you and Rollo had barely exchanged a glance since arriving, your only link to understanding his world was the quiet monk Athelstan, who patiently taught you Norse.

Days passed in strange routine. The Northmen spoke a language rough and wild, each word sounding like thunder to your ears. But Athelstan was a skilled teacher, and over time, the foreign words began to settle into your mind. Slowly, painstakingly, you came to understand snippets of conversation, whispers of words. And though you’d never spoken to him directly, you felt Rollo’s presence more keenly than anyone else’s.

Beyond learning their language. You learned of their gods.. gods that were not so different from the one you knew to be true. In the quiet moments of your days in Kattegat, when the biting northern winds were at rest and the village hummed with the peaceful rhythm of daily life, you found yourself questioning truths you had once accepted without hesitation. This land was raw, its people fierce, yet you had begun to notice an undeniable beauty here. And with it came questions—questions that took root deep within your heart, challenging the very foundations of your beliefs.

At first, the differences between you and these people had seemed insurmountable. Their rituals, their prayers to unseen gods of thunder, fertility, the sea, and the harvest—all of it seemed like blasphemy to your ears. Yet, as the days turned to weeks, you saw their reverence, how their lives were woven with purpose and respect for the land, for each other, and for forces they couldn’t see but trusted in deeply.

They worship their gods as we worship ours, you thought one day, watching as a woman carved runes into a wooden charm meant to protect her family. They seek strength, guidance, blessings. Are they so different from us?

The question unsettled you, and you struggled against it, recalling sermons from your homeland, the teachings that painted pagans as savages, their gods as dark spirits. But there was light in these people, too, wasn’t there? A unity, a sense of duty, and a love for family that you had always been taught were the virtues of your own faith.

Your gaze often drifted to Athelstan, your quiet teacher and guide in this foreign world, who had once been a Christian monk but had found himself torn between the faith of his past and the gods of the North. You wondered if he felt the same turmoil you did. Perhaps he, too, had wrestled with questions of what was true and what had been constructed by the hands and minds of men. After all, Athelstan had once told you that the Vikings’ gods had existed long before Christ had walked the earth.

This thought lodged in your mind, growing roots you couldn’t shake. Could it be possible, you wondered late one night, lying awake in the cold silence of your home, that the stories of my faith were born from theirs?

You thought of the tales you’d been told in church, stories of miracles, sacrifices, and holy men who could summon storms, heal the sick, or commune with higher beings. But here, you had seen similar stories told around the fires in the evenings—stories of gods who controlled the weather, who guided their people, who demanded sacrifices to keep balance in the world. You watched the children listen with wide eyes, just as you once had, their awe and reverence echoing your own memories of kneeling in a grand church, captivated by stories of your God.

And the symbols—they weren’t as different as you’d once thought. The hammer of Thor, which hung on a leather cord around the neck of nearly every warrior, wasn’t so unlike the cross worn by priests and devout nobles back home. Both symbols represented strength, protection, a hope that something greater watched over you.

What if, you wondered, heart thundering with the weight of the thought, these people had seen the same truths but woven them differently? What if, in some ancient past, we had all followed the same gods, the same ways, and only time had divided us?

It was a question you dared not voice, even to Athelstan. But the idea stirred something within you, something that frightened and intrigued you all at once. You felt the weight of the cross you still wore around your neck, a symbol of your devotion, yet here, it felt somehow…lonelier than before. Was it possible that your understanding of the divine had been limited by the walls of a church, by teachings passed down without question?

Each day you rose and went about your new duties, the questions circling in your mind like a hawk over the fields. Each time you watched Rollo go to the sacred woods or pour mead onto the earth in an offering, you felt a strange pull, a whisper in your heart that perhaps the world was larger and more mysterious than you had ever allowed yourself to believe.

One night, as you lay beneath the northern stars, you found yourself praying, not just to your God but to whatever forces might hear you. A strange peace settled over you then, as if your heart had found a rhythm that it had been seeking all along, something beyond names and symbols—a sense of connection to the world around you, to the mysteries and wonders that spanned both your people and his.

For the first time, you felt that perhaps there was more than one way to honor the divine, more than one truth, and that perhaps, in marrying Rollo, you had not been lost to a foreign faith but rather drawn closer to understanding the many ways humanity sought to make sense of this world and the next.

***

One evening, after a long day of lessons, you returned to your new home, hoping for the comfort of a bath to soothe your weary body and mind. You went to the small, private bathing room, where a tub of steaming water awaited. But as you reached to untie your dress, you found yourself struggling, your hands fumbling clumsily over the stubborn knots at your back. Frustration welled up, and you cursed softly under your breath, wishing for just one familiar comfort in this strange, foreign life.

Suddenly, a presence loomed behind you, close enough that you could feel his warmth. You froze as a large, rough hand gently touched your shoulder.

“Let me,” came the deep voice, and you knew instantly it was Rollo. His voice was as rough as the northern winds, yet softer than you’d ever heard it, as if afraid to shatter the silence that had always lain between you.

You held your breath as he deftly began to untie the laces, his hands surprisingly gentle as he worked through the knots with ease. Neither of you spoke for a long moment, his closeness overwhelming, every brush of his fingers against your back sending sparks down your spine.

Once he had loosened the dress, he lingered, his hands resting against the fabric at your shoulders. You felt your heartbeat quicken, and with a shaky breath, you finally turned to look at him. His intense blue eyes met yours, filled with an unreadable depth.

“Thank you,” you murmured in Norse, proud yet hesitant as you stumbled over the unfamiliar sounds.

His lips curved, just barely, in something close to a smile. “You’ve learned our language well,” he replied, his voice low. “I am…impressed.”

Your cheeks warmed, and you looked down. “I wanted to understand. To not feel like a stranger here.” There was a long moment of silence before you finally spoke the question you had been wondering since you arrived. “Will we have a pagan wedding?”

Rollo looked at you with confusion. “We already had a wedding.”

“Yes, but that was a Christian wedding. Our marriage is not recognized in the eyes of your gods, therefore… we are not truly married. Not in the eyes of you or your people.” You held up your, now falling, dress as it slumped around your shoulders.

“Is that what you want? For us to not truly be married?” You hadn’t realized how difficult the answer to that question would be. You would have assumed you would have immediately said yes, but now, in this moment… you’re not so sure.

“It’s what you want, isn’t it? You do not love me.” Rollo scoffed at your words.

“As you do not love me, Princess.”

“Yes, but I love no one. You do love someone, it’s just not me.” Rollo’s eyes widened at your words and he came so close to you, you could feel his breath on your cheeks.

“What do you know of who I love?” You swallowed a lump in your throat, realizing you had hit a sensitive spot.

“I know more than you think, husband. I’m not some stupid and scared girl. The whole month I’ve been here, I’ve been quiet and observant.” Rollo rolled his eyes, taking a few steps back.

“And what is it that you have observed?” You nodded, holding your chin high in retort to his evident doubt.

“I’ve noticed that you are angry. At both yourself and your brother. You’re jealous of him. You feel you are less than and this makes you infuriated. I know you’re in love with Lagertha, but she has never shared that feeling. Though I never knew Siggy, I see the way you act when people talk about her. You loved her, but not in the way you love Lagertha. For this you carry guilt and it fuels your self hate. Did I observe correctly?” Rollo’s expression was one of frustration and astonishment.

“You’ve been busy, Princess. Do you agree with your observations? Am I less than Ragnar?” His question took you by surprise, but didn’t at the same time. The idea that he cares for your opinion is shocking, but not that he needs the validation.

“The truth?” He nods in response. “I think you are a great man. I think you’re honorable and kind. You’ve never forced yourself on me when you could have. You treat me well when you do not have to. As much as you are jealous of your brother, I truly believe that you love him and would not hurt him. You are an honorable warrior, which from my understanding is one of the things you Northmen pride yourselves on. Why you do not see yourself as such, I dont understand. Even my people back home knew your name, Rollo. The Bear, they called you.” A smile spread on his face at the name, and you couldn’t help the one that found yours. “I am proud to be the wife of a man with such high honor.” Rollo was silent for what felt like eternity, just staring at you. You began to feel self conscious, pulling your falling dress as high as you could, and dipped your head to hide your face. “Why are you just staring at me?”

“I suppose I’m surprised. You do not talk to me the entirety of our marriage and the first time you open your mouth you have insulted me and spoken so highly of me in one sitting. I thought you hated this marriage,” he said, each word measured. “I thought you hated…me.”

You looked up, startled by the honesty in his gaze. This was the first real conversation you’d had, the first true exchange, and it struck you how different he seemed now than the man you’d first met. Gone was the stoic warrior, replaced by a man with insecurities, a man who, perhaps, felt as much a stranger to you as you did to him.

“It was never hate,” you whispered, choosing your words carefully. “Fear, maybe. But not hate.”

His hand lifted, his fingers brushing against a strand of your hair as if testing the boundaries of this new understanding between you. “You are braver than you think,” he murmured, his voice like a quiet promise. “More brave than I.”

You swallowed, your heart thundering in your chest. “No, Rollo. Not braver than you.” He smiled, his hand slipping from your cheek to your neck.

“You speak your opinion where I cannot. That’s much braver than facing battle.” The hairs on the back of your neck stood as his hand danced from your neck to your exposed shoulder.

“Maybe we are just brave in different ways. Maybe we can teach each other.” He stepped closer, his fingers curling around the loose neckline of your dress.

“You want to learn to fight?” You shrugged, a smile finding your lips.

“If I am to be a Northeman’s wife, I should learn their ways, no? You teach me the skills of battle and I shall teach you the skills of wit.” He began to pull the fabric of your dress down and you clutched it. He stopped, his eyes meeting yours. “Rollo, I’m…” you realized you did not know what the word was in their language. You searched your mind for it.

“You’re what?” You took a deep breath, embarrassed to have to explain.

“I’ve never been with a man. I don’t know the word in your language.” Rollo chuckled, grabbing your small hand that was holding your dress up.

“Ah, virgin,” he said, squeezing your hand, as if to ask if he could remove your clothes.

“Virgin,” you repeat and he nods.

“Yes, Princess. You are my wife. Should we not bed at least once during our marriage?” You felt your cheeks getting hotter as you finally succumbed to him. Your hand released and your dress fell, pooling at your feet. Your hands covered your breasts, feeling too exposed. His large, scarred, hands clasped your wrists lightly, pulling them down to your sides. “There is no need to hide from me, my wife.” His calloused fingers ran down your exposed chest, to your stomach, stopping at your hip. Goosebumps lit ablaze across your whole body. “It is as if you were carved by the gods.” You giggled as he pulled you close, your bare chest now flush with his.

“As were you, Rollo.” Your palms lay against his chest.

“My gods or yours,” he asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“I haven’t decided yet, but being here… I do question if my god is even real,” you say honestly.

“Are we turning you into a pagan,” you laugh, shrugging.

“I’m starting to think it wouldn’t be such a bad thing.” With that, his lips are against yours, hot and wanting. You moaned into his mouth, entranced by how warm he is, how his beard tickled your cheeks with each synchronized movement of your lips. His hands gripped your hips, picking you up with ease. You wrapped your legs around his waist, your lips never leaving one another. He walked you to the bed, gently laying you down.

He got off the bed, standing at the edge. You watched as he undid his pants. His eyes never leaving yours as he moved slowly to untie the laces. He is a man of beauty. Perfectly chiseled and large. His long hair flows down his chest and his tattoos perfectly caress his skin.

“After tonight, we will be officially married in the eyes of your god, no?” You peeled your eyes away from admiring his body to meet his gaze.

“Yes. We never… I don’t know the word. To make a marriage official, the man and wife must lie together.” He pulled his pants down, revealing himself to you fully, as you are to him. You sucked in a breath, an undeniable feeling of want and nervousness filling you.

“Do you want to lie with me? To truly be husband and wife?” He ran his finger along your collarbone, down to your nipple. He circled it lightly and you couldn’t help the moan that came with it. He smiled, licking his lips. You grabbed his wrist, using it to pull yourself to your knees. You are now face to face with him at the edge of the bed. You grabbed his other wrist, placing both palms on your breasts.

“I want you. Just- just be gentle, okay?” He kissed your cheek as his hands squeezed your chest.

“Northmen are not gentle. We do not fuck gently.” He kissed your neck.

“As much as I want you to fuck me like a Northman, I’ve been told your first time hurts.” You looked down at his already hard cock, feeling yourself getting more nervous. “And you are quite large.” This made Rollo laugh as he continued to trail kisses across your neck and chest.

“Don’t worry, Princess. Me and my large cock will be gentle.” You giggled and slapped his chest, making him laugh again. He laid you back down on the fur covered bed, climbing on top of you. You took in a deep breath as he spread your legs. “Don’t be nervous, my beautiful wife.” The words made butterflies erupt in your chest. He kissed your forehead, then both of your cheeks, easing the tightening in your stomach. He grabbed your hands, holding them above your head. He continued to leave gentle kisses as he slowly started to enter you. You squeezed his hands so hard you’re sure your knuckles were white as he pushed farther inside you. He is extremely large and you wince in pain from you being stretched open.

“Rollo,” you whined and he stopped, meeting your gaze. You gave yourself a minute to adjust, then nodded your head. He continued pushing in further until he was finally fully in you. He pulled out, then slowly thrusted back in. His movements were slow and gentle and eventually the pain turned into pleasure. Pleasure like you’ve never experienced. Your head tipped back and your mouth fell open, letting out a moan.

“Does it feel good, Princess?” His hot breath hit your neck as he whispered in your ear and it lit something wild in you.

“Go faster,” you moaned and wrapped your legs around his waist, giving him more access. You felt him push in deeper as he picked up his pace. He was hitting deeper and deeper inside you with each thrust and your eyes fluttered shut at the intense pleasure.

“You look so beautiful.” You opened your eyes to see he is staring at you, drinking in your appearance. Staring into his blue eyes makes all the sensations better. He rested his forehead against yours and you couldn’t help but fall in love with the way he is staring at you as he thrusts harder and deeper inside you. The room is filled with each other’s moans and gasps. You feel yourself reaching a point of release and you can tell he’s about to hit his too. He kissed you passionately as his thrusts become sloppier. You moaned into his mouth as a wave a euphoria rushed over you and your legs shake from utter pleasure. You feel him release inside you and he rides out his high with a few more thrusts.

He laid next to you on the bed and you rolled over to lay your head on his chest. His heart is beating fast and his breaths are short. You ran your fingers up and down his abdomen as you both fall into a comfortable silence. You’re not sure where you find your confidence, but the words that finally come out of your mouth surprise not only you, but Rollo.

“I do not love you, Rollo Lothbrok. But, I can see my falling in love with you.” You meet his shocked expression, but it eventually turns soft.

“Goodnight, my beautiful wife.”

***

The night air of Kattegat was alive with laughter and song, the flickering torchlight casting a warm glow over the village as the Vikings celebrated with wild abandon. Mead flowed like rivers, horns clashing in toasts to the gods, to family, to life itself. You felt the familiar warmth of the drink pulse through you, each sip lighting your blood with a fire you hadn’t known before coming to this land. Tonight, you danced without restraint, twirling with the crowd in the great hall, your feet moving with the beat of the drums, the earth beneath you thrumming with life.

You had grown accustomed to the spirit of Viking celebrations, their passion for life something you had come to appreciate. Though you were not of their faith, their customs, or their world, the sense of freedom here was intoxicating, a heady contrast to the strict life you had known. Tonight, you felt a part of it all. For the first time, you truly felt like you belonged.

The world around you was a blur of laughter, music, and flickering torchlight. You spun and swayed, your feet carrying you to the beat of the drums, your heart pounding with the thrill of freedom, of finally feeling as though you belonged here in Kattegat. The mead warmed your blood, filling you with a giddy lightness that melted away your reservations. This was a new side of you, one that you hadn’t known before—a part of you that had found joy in this wild land, surrounded by people who embraced life as fiercely as they embraced battle.

As you moved, you caught sight of Rollo, standing on the edge of the crowd, watching you. His intense gaze was steady, following your every movement. His face, usually hardened by shadows and silent restraint, now held something softer, almost tender. You felt his stare like a touch, tracing over you, lingering with an appreciation that made your pulse quicken. You and Rollo had not been able to go a few hours without being intimate since your first time.

Without thinking, you met his eyes and smiled, your feet carrying you closer. He didn’t move, his stare unwavering, as if transfixed. The other dancers melted away, leaving only him in your focus, your heart pounding louder than the drums. Before you could second-guess yourself, you held out your hand, a silent invitation, your eyes daring him to join you.

For a moment, Rollo hesitated, his usual guarded expression flickering with uncertainty. But then, slowly, he reached out, his large hand enveloping yours, and you pulled him into the crowd. He stumbled slightly, unused to this kind of playfulness, but his eyes remained locked on yours, an amused glint sparking there as he let you lead.

You laughed, feeling as though the walls between you and this man, the ones that both had been breaking down slowly, were finally crumbling completely. You pressed his hand to your waist, guiding him to follow your movements, his body close to yours as the drums echoed in the night. Though he towered over you, his presence solid and intense, you felt a softness in the way he held you, his grip firm but gentle.

“Are you sure you know how to dance, warrior?” you teased, your voice light and filled with the boldness that only mead could bring.

He huffed, a smirk breaking across his face. “Dancing is not the way of a Viking. At least not the way you dance, Princess,” he replied, his voice deep, but his eyes sparkled with unspoken laughter. “But for you… I will try.”

The two of you moved together, your laughter mingling as you guided him through each step, each sway. His movements were unpracticed, slightly stiff, yet he relaxed with every beat of the drum, letting himself be drawn into your rhythm. It was as if the crowd, the village, the night itself faded, leaving only the two of you bound in this moment, where titles and gods and duty did not matter.

You felt his hand tighten on your waist, pulling you closer, his other hand coming up to cradle the side of your face. The playful smiles faded, and in their place, a deeper warmth simmered between you, something vulnerable and unspoken.

“I’ve never seen you like this,” he murmured, his voice barely audible above the music, his gaze tracing your face as if memorizing every detail. “So Free. So Happy.”

You smiled softly, your fingers brushing over his hand. “I feel alive here, Rollo,” you whispered.

His thumb gently stroked your cheek, a tenderness in his touch that you’ve grown accustomed to since the night you first made love four months ago. “Then perhaps,” he said, his voice rough, “this land, this life, is more yours than you thought.”

You felt a swell of warmth in your chest, a feeling that chased away the last remnants of doubt. Here, with him, in this wild, untamed place, you had found a part of yourself you never knew was there—a part that yearned for freedom, for belonging, for love.

The drums beat on, but the world around you was still, your gaze locked with his, the silent understanding between you deepening. And as he lowered his forehead to rest against yours, his breath warm against your skin, you realized that the music had stopped. Everyone around you had gone quiet. You and Rollo broke contact to see the cause of it. Walking through the great hall doors was Athelstan. Bjorn had told you both that the monk had thrown his sacred arm ring into the fjord.

Rollo’s voice thundered through the crowd. “Athelstan,” he roared, his voice laced with anger.

The crowd quieted, all eyes turning to the monk-turned-Viking who had lived with one foot in both worlds. Rollo stormed toward him, his face twisted with rage, and gripped Athelstan’s wrist, holding it up for all to see. “Look at this man!” he bellowed, his voice echoing through the night. “Where is your sacred ring, Athelstan? I was told you through your ring, the one our king, Ragnar, gave you into the fjord!”

You felt the blood drain from your face as you watched, horrified by Rollo’s fury. You had always known Athelstan was a man of two worlds, like yourself—caught between his old faith and the ways of the Northmen. A pang of sympathy tore through you, a deep understanding of the pain and doubt he must have felt to make such a decision.

Athelstan’s eyes darted toward the crowd. “You have betrayed the gods who welcomed you,” Rollo growled. “You stand here, pretending to honor both, but now we see who you truly are.”

Ragnar pushed through the crowd and wrapped an arm around Athelstan’s shoulder. He dragged him away from the crowd, into a back room, whispering something in his ear.

The celebration resumed, though it was subdued, the laughter tinged with unease. You lingered near the fire, lost in thought, watching as Rollo stalked away, his jaw tight with anger. Before you knew it, you followed him, the words you’d held back now bubbling to the surface.

When you both arrived at your shared home, you closed the door behind you, crossing your arms as you gathered the courage to speak. “Why are you so angry at Athelstan?” you demanded, your voice sharper than you intended. “You’ve always known he was torn between both faiths, just as I am. Why is it different now?”

Rollo turned, his face dark and unreadable in the dim light. “You don’t understand,” he replied coldly. “Athelstan has cast aside his ring. He has thrown it away, shown us he has no loyalty to anything but his Christian god. He cannot be trusted.”

“Cannot be trusted?” you echoed, frustration flaring in your chest. “Athelstan has always been loyal to you, to your brother, to your people. His struggle with faith does not make him any less trustworthy.”

Rollo’s gaze hardened. “He is weak. He cannot choose between one god or another, and now I see he tried to be something he’s not. He insulted the gods by pretending to be one of us.”

“But you do not see it, Rollo,” you pressed, your voice trembling with a blend of anger and desperation. “I see myself in him. I, too, am torn between worlds—between my God and your gods, between my homeland and yours. Am I a betrayer because I am still finding my way?”

Rollo’s eyes flashed, and for a moment, you thought he might lash out. But instead, he just clenched his fists, his voice low and fierce. “You must choose as well. You cannot love both. You cannot be a Christian and a Viking.”

You shook your head, feeling a pang of sadness as you looked into his eyes. “Athelstan was struggling, just as I am. Faith is not a simple choice, Rollo. It’s complicated, and sometimes it takes time to understand what it truly means. He was searching for where he belongs, and he has found it. This does not mean he cannot love your people… just as I love you.”

Rollo’s shoulders tensed, his eyes going wide. It’s the first time you had said it. Neither of you had ever spoken those words. You weren’t even sure if Rollo loved you. You felt embarrassment and anger at his lack of words.

“Is this why we have not had a Viking wedding? Because you feel I have not chosen your gods?” You felt tears pricking your eyes, but you fought to hold them back.

“If you do not choose our gods, we will never be in Valhalla together.” You scoffed, wiping a tear that slid down your cheek.

“Why does it matter if I end up in Valhalla or Heaven? You clearly do not love me back, so why do you care which afterlife I spend my days?” You began to turn away from him, but he grabbed you wrist, pulling you into his chest. His hand met your cheek, wiping away one of your tears.

“I do love you. But everyone I have ever loved either died or did not love me back.” You met his gaze and your heart hurt at the sight of tears in his eyes.

“Rollo, everyone dies. Just because the people around you die, does not mean you’re the cause of it. You cannot be afraid of death. You, more than anyone, know that. You Northmen do not fear death.”

“It is not death that I fear. What I fear is loving a woman who will not join me in Valhalla. It is not being able to spend eternity with you.” You stood on your toes to reach his lips. You gave him a soft kiss, then pulled away to meet his sadden gaze.

“I love you and I would do anything to spend eternity with you. We were fated to be together, Rollo. I can feel it. No matter what god willed it to be.” He looked down at you, his expression softening further, the anger that had once filled his gaze replaced by something warmer, deeper. In that moment, you felt that perhaps, just as Athelstan was searching, you and Rollo were finding something—a bridge between worlds, a space where faith, love, and understanding could coexist, no matter how different they seemed.

“We were fated to be together.” He pulled you as close as he could, kissing you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, standing taller to deepen the kiss. When you pulled away, you were both out of breath.

“Does this mean we will have a wedding?” He let out a deep chuckle, nodding.

“Yes, of course we will.” A smile spread across your face.

“Good, because I wouldn’t want our child to be born without married parents.” You grabbed his hand, resting it on your belly. His face lit with excitement and he let out a laugh.

“You’re… you’re with child?” You nodded, tears falling freely to see the joy that found his rough and beautiful face. He picked up you, twirling you around. You let out a laugh as he set you down, kissing you.

You nodded, unable to stop smiling. “Yes, Rollo. You’re going to be a father.”

He let out a shout of pure happiness, his arms wrapping around you again, holding you tight as if he were afraid you might disappear. His hand returned to your stomach, resting there reverently, his thumb brushing over the place where new life grew.

“I cannot believe it,” he murmured, his eyes shining. “You… you have given me more than I ever thought possible.”

The look in his eyes was raw, filled with joy, wonder, and a fierce love that made your heart swell. He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, then your cheek, and finally, his lips met yours in a tender, lingering kiss, his hand still resting protectively over your stomach.

When he pulled back, he grinned down at you, his expression so soft, so full of love that it nearly took your breath away. “You have given me a family,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I will protect you both. I will give you everything I am, everything I have. I swear it.”

The drums beat on around you, the celebration continuing in the background, but in that moment, the world felt like it held only the two of you, wrapped in a love you hadn’t dared dream of, a love that had grown against all odds.

And as you stood there, feeling the warmth of his hand on your stomach, you knew that whatever came next, you and Rollo would face it together—with joy, with strength, and with a love that was stronger than any doubt, any fear, any past that had once divided you.

[fantasydreamland]

Answered Prayers

ragnar lothbrok x fem reader

Summary: After being captured by the Vikings your prayers to god remain unanswered, as you come to realize they always have. An intriguing Viking man teaches you of their ways, and all your prayers are answered. (No language barrier & Ragnar is unmarried for the sake of the story).

Notes: 18+ ONLY!!! Smuttt, maybe some fluff, loss of virginity, p in v, angst, kidnapping/violence/raiding in opening story, possible spoilers.

Word count: 3763

I’m very into Norse spirituality so I loved writing this

masterlist

Everyone in the city moves in a panic as the bells ring, alarms in response to the Northmen pulling up to your shores. You find a spot in your house to hide and clutch your cross close to your chest as you pray to god to protect you from these heathens.

A bang startles you as a Viking man kicks down your door. Your heart races as you hear him tearing apart the house searching for valuables. You hear screams outside and continue whispering prayers to god begging him to keep you from being found.

The Viking eventually finds you hiding in a corner between your bed and the wall. Your heart stops when his bright blue eyes meet yours. His eyes examine you from head to toe before he smirks.

“Please… please don’t kill me.” You beg through oncoming tears. “Take whatever you want, just please.”

“Come.” He reaches his hand out for you to take.

You look up at him with furrowed brows in confusion.

“You said I can take whatever I want.” The man says. “So come.”

“No, no, please. Please don’t hurt me…” You cry.

“If you come with me, I will have no reason to hurt you.” He steps closer. “Otherwise…” He gestures to the axe in his hand.

You sniffle as you get up onto your feet. The Viking gestures his hand out to you again which you reluctantly take. He rushes out of the house, dragging you along with him. A small shriek escapes you as your eyes take in the dead bodies and blood everywhere. The man pays no mind to any of it as he pulls you through the city and leads you right out the front gates and into their Viking camp.

“Well, well. What do we have here?” A large Viking man with long dark hair approaches you. You pull away as he tries to brush hair from your face.

“Leave her be.” Your captor says as more of the men come over to ogle at you.

“Why? She is a useless Christian. Only good for one thing...” The man smirks at you.

“She is mine, keep your hands to yourself Rollo.” Your captor replies. “That goes for all of you! No one touches her, she belongs to me.”

You take a small breath of relief before your captor grabs your hand again and leads you far from the group and into a tent.

“Sit.” The man gestures to a small cot. “What is your name?”

“(y/n).” You say as you sit.

“(y/n)…” He hums. “Interesting name. I’m Ragnar Lothbrok.”

“Thank you Ragnar.” You say lowly.

“For what?”

“Out there, protecting me from the other men…” You respond. “And I guess… thank you for not killing me.”

“Like I said to the men, you are mine. They will not harm you as long as you are with me, understand?”

You nod your head.

“What are you going to do with me?” You ask.

He smirks in response before looking you up and down, making you nervous.

“I have not decided yet.” He shrugs with a smirk still on his face.

**********

The journey back to their land was long and dreadful. You had never been on a boat before and the ride made you nauseous. Ragnar kept a close eye on you and made sure no one bothered you.

As soon as they dock Ragnar quickly sneaks you away like he is trying to hide you. He leads you to his small farmhouse outside of town.

“Am I your slave now?” You ask once inside.

He laughs at your response and you scowl.

“I have no need for slaves.” He shrugs.

“If you wish to cook or clean for me, or do other things…” He smirks at you suggestively, making you blush. “I would certainly not object, but you will not be forced to do anything.”

“So I am not a slave… but I am not a free woman?” You question.

“Yes.” He simply responds.

“Then why am I here?”

“I do not know. The gods have not revealed your purpose to me yet.”

“There is only one god.” You say sternly.

He laughs again making anger rise in your cheeks.

“Maybe your god will reveal to you your purpose then.” He says teasingly.

**********

The next couple days were surprisingly peaceful. You did not dare to try and leave the house. Although he never asked you to, you cooked and cleaned mostly to have something to occupy your time but Ragnar appreciated you either way. He would disappear for most of the day to god knows where, but when he returned you would have a hot meal waiting for him.

Ragnar would ask many questions, about your life and your god. You asked about him in return and he told you all about his adventures and of his gods.

“Are you a virgin?” Ragnar asks out of nowhere while you are eating supper.

You choke on your drink, the question taking you off guard.

“Pardon?”

“Well, you are unmarried right?” He continues. “I have heard Christians remain virgins until they are married.”

“Well, um, yes. It would be a sin otherwise.” You respond shyly.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why is it a sin?” He asks with curiosity in his tone.

“I- um, I don’t know. It’s just a sin. You should only make children with your husband or wife.”

“Well, that is a bit silly isn’t it?”

“What is so ‘silly’ about that?” You scowl.

“Because making children is not the only reason to have sex.” He shrugs.

“What do you mean?” You ask, heat rising in your cheeks from annoyance and another feeling you couldn’t quite place.

“Do they teach you nothing?” He raises his brow.

“Not really… especially us women. They keep us sheltered from everything.”

“Well,” He says, taking the food bowl from your hands and placing it down.

He leans towards you until his breath brushes your ear, sending shivers up your spine.

“Sex can provide you with the greatest of pleasures…” He says lowly in your ear, your heart races. “If you know where to touch.” His fingers graze up your knee.

“Your gods… they do not care if you sin?” You ask but it comes out as a whisper.

He chuckles.

“To our gods, it is not wrong. The gods gave us the gift of such pleasure, why would they deny us from taking it?” He shrugs.

“I guess that is true…” You whisper.

“I can show you our ways, if you want.” He says with a devilish grin, moving his hand back to your knee.

“What? No. No I- Um, no… thank you.” You stutter, taken aback by his offer.

“Well, if you change your mind you know where to find me.” He whispers in your ear before standing and cleaning up from supper.

You go to bed early, trying to hide your flushed cheeks since your conversation. Ragnar eventually begins to lightly snore from the next room that was only separated by a thin wall with gaps you could see through. His words replay in your head, “greatest of pleasures if you know where to touch.”. Curiosity gets the better of you as you lightly trace your fingers along your neck and collarbone, the feeling creating goosebumps. Without even realizing, you start imagining Ragnar’s hand as yours travels lower. You grab onto your breast before your hand continues down. Your fingers tease at the hem of your pants before slowly moving down into them. You lightly touch the sensitive skin and it sends a jolt through you making you gasp louder than intended. You hear Ragnar stir in the next room and you quickly pull your hand from your pants as you look to him, still asleep. You sigh and try to get comfortable to sleep. Everything that has happened within the last few days has left you so lost and confused. You have been praying to god every day but nothing changes, nothing reassures you and what you are supposed to do in this place. Your mind continues to race until sleep eventually pulls you under.

**********

“I would like to go into the mountain to pray.” You say to Ragnar.

“Why? So you can run away?” He gives you a teasing scoff.

You can’t hide the small laugh that escapes your lips.

“You know I would not make it very far without you.” You roll your eyes at him. “Besides, I need you to show me the way.”

“Alright then… perhaps tomorrow.” He shrugs.

“No, today.” You push. “Right now… please.”

You were desperate to have a moment of solitude and a private moment speak to god.

“Very well, we should go now while the sun is still high.” Ragnar says as he heads towards the door, you stand and follow after him.

He leads you up the hills of the forest until you reach a clearing facing the water. The stunning view took your breath away.

“I… I need to be alone.” You say to Ragnar.

“Do not try to escape.” He winks at you. “I will be just down this hill when you are done.”

You give him a grateful smile and you watch him walk away until he is out of sight. Turning back to face the edge of the cliff, you close your eyes take a deep breath as you feel the breeze brush across your face. You crouch to the ground onto your knees and bring your hands together in prayer.

“Heavenly father… Please help me to find my path. I feel so lost in this unfamiliar world and do not know what I am to do next or who I am meant to be now… And I feel… as if my prayers to protect and watch over me have gone unanswered, especially when I was taken by these people.” You pray with tears coming to your eyes. “Please god, if you are there, if you are watching over me… if you are real… please send me a sign.”

You open your eyes and watch for any sort of sign that your god is with you. Nothing happens.

“Please, give me any sign so I know you are watching over me as I have always believed.”

You wait again, and wait, and wait. The world was still, not even a stronger gust of wind to show a possible sign from god.

You drop your hands into your lap in defeat. Tears begin to roll down your cheeks until an idea crosses your mind. You breathe out a laugh to yourself feeling a bit silly for what you were about to try. You bring your hands back together but instead have a strange urge to connect to the earth. You bow, reaching your hands forward into the ground, feeling the dirt and grass between your fingers.

“Odin…” You close your eyes and begin, whispering so quietly it’s nearly silent. “Freyja… Thor… Please hear me. Hear my prayers. Help me, guide me, to who I am supposed to be now… what I am supposed to do.”

Suddenly, a raven lets out a loud ‘caw’ startling you. Your head shoots up and you look to the bird watching you from a rock to your side. Your heart races and your eyes go wide as you watch each other. A tickle on your hand makes you look down to see a white butterfly that landed on you. You lift your hand to admire it and it flies around your head before flying away, at the same time the raven flies off with it.

As your brain tries to comprehend the unmistakeable signs that the pagan gods are answering your prayers, you hear a rumble of thunder. The skies turn grey within a matter of seconds before rain suddenly begins to pour down. You stand and let out a laugh of disbelief as you spread your arms wide and look to the sky as you let out a heavy breath of relief. The rain washed over your entire being, cleansing you of your troubles. It felt like a different kind of baptism, a rebirth.

“(y/n)?” You hear Ragnar call from behind you.

You turn to him with a wide smile on your face. He noted how beautiful you were when you smiled like that, he realized he had never seen more than a faint one cross your lips.

“Are you alright?” He smiles back at you. “We should head back. Thor’s wrath may become brutal soon if we remain all the way out here.”

“No, he is speaking to me.” You smile, making Ragnar’s brows furrow in confusion.

“Your gods… the gods…” You continue. “They answered my prayers…”

“So, suddenly you believe in our gods now?” He teases. “And what of your god?”

“The Christian god has never answered my prayers. Never even given a small sign he is with me.” You explain. “I prayed to Odin, and a raven appeared… Freyja, a white butterfly landed on my hand the same moment… and Thor…” You gesture to the skies the rain continues to pour down from.

You walk closer to Ragnar.

“I want to teach me your ways…” You say lowly.

“All of our ways?” He smirks, mischief dancing in his eyes.

“All of your ways…” You say as you move even closer until your noses brush.

He traces his finger up your neck, making you shiver. His finger continues to move along your jaw before he gently lifts your chin, making your eyes meet his piercing blue ones. “Are you sure about that?” He says with his classic devilish smirk.

Instead of responding you bring your lips to his, which was answer enough. He doesn’t hesitate to kiss you back hungrily, a small growl escaping him. He cups your cheeks as the rain pours down on you both, the kiss is wet and passionate. His tongue demands entrance to your mouth and you let him take the lead, following along a little awkwardly. His hands move from your face down to your hips as he pulls you against him. The hardness pushing against your stomach makes you gasp.

“Do you wish to return to the house…” Ragnar whispers, against your lips before kissing you again.

“No… I want you to take me right here… under the eyes of Thor and all the gods watching over us…” You whisper back, bringing your hand to his cheek.

Your words light a fire in Ragnar as your eyes meet in an intense gaze. He reaches out and begins to slowly pull at the strings of your dress. His eyes watch yours carefully, as if daring you to stop him. You would do no such thing. Once the ties were loose you let him pull the dress off your shoulders, completely exposing your breasts. They instantly perk up in the cold chill of the rain, droplets of water falling down your skin. A moan escapes you as he leans down and takes one in his mouth, flicking his tongue over your sensitive nipple. Your entire body felt aflame. You welcomed every cold raindrop that touches your heated skin.

His sinful tongue continues to explore down your stomach until he’s on his knees in front of you. You look down at him with lust filled eyes as pulls down the skirts of your dress, leaving you completely bare for him. His gaze meets yours as he squeezes your thighs hard and gives you a smirk.

“Ragnar what are you-“

Your words are cut off when his tongue licks your most intimate area. You gasp and whine as he begins to messily eat you. Your legs shake and wobble as you try to hold onto his shoulders.

“Ragnar I can’t…” You breathe.

He could sense you were barely able to hold yourself up. In one swift movement he hooks your legs over his shoulders and you yelp as he lifts you up. His tongue does not stop working at your bundle of nerves as he walks you over to a tree. You lean your back against the rough bark. The feeling of him was so overwhelming that you hardly felt the tree scratching at your skin. He ate you ravenously like a man starved. Your hands quickly find their way into his hair, tugging lightly, he grunts against you in response. You pant as you look up to the grey rainy skies, the entire moment felt like a dream. A knot begins to tighten in your stomach and your vision starts to blur. Ragnar dips his tongue into your entrance and that is your undoing. You scream out as your thighs squeeze tightly around his head. You would be worried about hurting him but you could swear you felt him grinning against you as his tongue works you through your orgasm.

Ragnar carefully lowers you back to the ground, you feel both your body and your mind come back down to earth. You shiver as he lays you down on the cold wet ground. He removes his now soaked shirt before climbing over you and capturing your lips in a fierce kiss, you moan at the taste yourself as your tongues dance together.

He stands again to quickly remove his pants, your eyes widen at his length before he climbs back on top of you.

“Are you certain?” Ragnar asks lowly, noticing your worried expression.

“Yes but… I don’t think it will fit…” You whisper shyly.

He gives a cocky chuckle before he begins kissing on your neck.

“It will.” He mumbles against your skin.

You feel him rub his length against your core making you whine and buck your hips in response.

“So eager.” He smirks.

He slowly begins pushing in making you grimace in pain. You instantly question his reassurance that it will fit.

“Shh,” Ragnar tries to soothe you.

His lips move back to your neck kissing, sucking and biting, trying his best to distract you from the pain. You moan at the feeling before he pushes right through the barrier and you gasp loudly. Ragnar groans loudly as he feels you squeezing tightly around him like a vice. You pant heavily with tears in your eyes as you adjust to his size. He does not move until you’re ready, then he starts pushing in and out slowly. The pain soon fades and you wrap your legs around him, forcing him deeper into you.

“Please…” You breathe out.

“Please what?” Ragnar whispers directly in your ear, making you shudder.

“More…”

“More what?” He teases you.

“Ragnar, please.” You groan in frustration. “Faster. Harder. Give me more.”

He smirks before finally obliging your wishes and starts pounding into you relentlessly. You quickly begin to see stars as your second orgasm washes over you and you cry out his name. Ragnar slows his pace once you have hit your peak.

“So this is…” You pant. “This is how Vikings… fuck?”

“We fuck however we want to.” He says as he kisses your neck, still hard inside you. “Viking women enjoy riding their men like wild horses.” He mumbles against your skin, like a challenge.

“Then I shall do that…” You say as you sit up and force Ragnar onto his back.

Ragnar’s eyes widen as you move to straddle him.

“I shall ride you like a wild horse.” You look down and meet his eyes, fire in your eyes and a devilish smirk on your lips. “I shall fuck you like a true Viking woman.”

He does not take his eyes off you for one second as you start to sink back down onto his cock, causing your mouth to drop at the feeling. Being new to all of this, you awkwardly try to bounce up and down until Ragnar grips your hips and guides you to move them back and forth.

“Oh…” You moan, eyes rolling back.

You follow his direction and rock your hips back and forth, increasing the speed. The position sends tingles through your entire body. Ragnar watches you in amazement, taking in every inch of your wet naked body as your beautiful moans ring in his ears. His hands move from your hips to grab your breasts and you ride him harder in approval, earning a groan from him.

You still felt like you were dreaming. You had lived such a strict sheltered life and felt so trapped for so long… But as the grey clouds swirl above you and the rain pours down over your shamelessly naked body, as you ride this god of a man who made your entire body vibrate with life, as you cried out loud enough for the gods to hear, as your prayers had finally been answered and your path now clear, as you feel your very souls connect. For the first time in your entire life… you felt free.

Your peak hits you even more intense than any time before, zings of pleasure radiate throughout your entire being. You felt yourself cry out Ragnar’s name but the sudden crack of lightning in the distance completely drowned out the sound. Your eyes shot open and you caught a glimpse of the fast line of lighting across the mountains at the same moment you came. Ragnar digs his fingers hard into your hips as he finds his own release. A loud rumble of thunder booms as he chokes out a moan. In that moment you felt so tremendously powerful, like a you were a god and goddess.

As you come down from your high the rain suddenly becomes much lighter. Panting, you look down at Ragnar who’s grinning smugly up at you. You give him a smirk back before leaning down and capturing his lips in a hungy kiss, your tongue instantly demands entrance and Ragnar happily obliges, moving his hand to your cheek as he eagerly kisses you back.

You roll off of him onto the wet grass, the rain now stopping completely. You felt so wild and free you that had no care about the mud that had gotten all over you.

“So…” Ragnar huffs, still catching his breath. “You really believe in our gods now?”

“They answered my prayers…” You respond, also panting. “It is hard to deny their existence after all of that.”

Ragnar just grins at you.

“We should get cleaned up.” He says as he stands, lending a hand to help you up.

As you stand he pulls you into a quick passionate kiss.

“Welcome to my world, (y/n).” Ragnar smiles.

[ryuzakemo128]

Vikings Writing Prompts

Trigger Warning:

Mention of Death, fighting, miscarriages, suicide.

If anything mentioned above triggers you. Please remove yourself and continue with your day. Your mental health is just as important as your physical health. Vice versa, as the mind can affect the body in equal measure.

Prompts for either imagines, headcanons, one-shots, anything you possibly desire. As long as it is clearly stated as to what character you want it written for. Otherwise I will not be able to satisfy the particular itch you might or might not want itched and scratched.

Characters from the Vikings Show that I am willing to write for as follows:

Male Characters

Rollo Lothbrok

Ívar Ragnarsson

Björn Ragnarsson

Ubbe Ragnarsson

Athelstan

Hálfdanr Hálfdansson

Haraldr Hálfdansson

Female Characters:

Lagertha Lothbrok

Aslaug Sigurdsdottir

Personal Note: I would also preface that I will not write things that trigger me. Things like Cheating and Affairs. At least not in incredible detail as it will harm and hurt my mental health in the long run. And if you respect my mental health, you will respect my personal boundaries as well.

If you would like to peruse my previous works in the past feel free to do so. I will not prevent nor shame those who would want to read them.

Here is a link to two masterlists that contain them.

Masterlist 01 / Masterlist 02

Prompts

Listed below are prompts to choose from if you want to make a specific request for a specific character. First list being SFW and the second one being NSFW underneath the cut.

SFW - Dialogue Prompts

"Whatever souls are made of, yours and mine are the same. As much you might dispute that fact."

"You could just tell me things instead of insinuating them. Communication is important."

"Let me eat my feelings in peace and quiet. Otherwise we are going to have many, many, many problems."

"I know I can't go I'm the one getting nearly all the time."

"I don't trust anyone who would place value of one child above another. Regardless of what someone else may or may not have said."

"For a mother you play favourites quite a bit."

"Depends on what you consider to be fair."

"Aim better! Stop trying to hit me and hit me!"

"You are not my problem. You are theirs. I plan to keep it that way. So neither begging nor pleading to me will not work."

Canon Character x OC/ Reader - Dialogue Prompts

"I am well enough to fight. I am well enough to move around do things myself. Do not coddle me as I were a child and I will not do the same to you."

"I was in exile, I did not abandon anybody, least of all my brother."

"I don't ask for your understanding, I don't ask for your trust either and quite frankly I do not want either one from you."

NSFW - Dialogue Prompts

[TBD]

Vikings Headcanons - Link

Food for the heart and soul - Halfdan the Black x Female Reader - Link

Tarnished and Unveiled Intentions - Bjorn Ironside x reader - Link

Life After Death - Bjorn Ironside x female reader - Link

[at1nys-blog]

Masterlist

【Ragnar Lothbrok】

↳��;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ nothing yet

【Lagertha】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ nothing yet

【Björn Ragnarsson】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ nothing yet

【Floki&Helga】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ nothing yet

【Athlestan】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ nothing yet

【Rollo】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ nothing yet

【Siggy】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ nothing yet

【Aslaugh】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ nothing yet

【Ubbe Ragnarsson】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ nothing yet

【Hvitserk Ragnarsson】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ My own Valkyrja

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ more to come

【Sigurd Ragnarsson】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ nothing yet

【Ivar Ragnarsson】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ nothing yet

【Halfdan the black】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ nothing yet

【Harald Finehair】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ nothing yet

【Torvi】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ nothing yet

【Heahmund】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ nothing yet

【Gunnhild】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ nothing yet

【Kalf】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ nothing yet

【Kjetill Flatnose】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ nothing yet

【Yidu】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ nothing yet

[bouncehousedemons]

Out of the Fire

Rating: E  Pairing: Rollo x female character (written in second person, no use of y/n) Warnings: Eventual smut, implied childhood sexual abuse, past sexual abuse, canon-typical violence, angst, forced marriage Word count: 11,790 (8 chapters)

Summary: When life as you know it literally burns around you you assume you are free. That is until you're captured by a Viking intent on making you his. Will you succumb to him or finally find the freedom you so desperately seek?

Written for the Spring 2022 @vikingsbigbang​ 

Moodboard by @supervalcsi​

Read the full fic on AO3

[spaghettificationandpretzels]

Hello! how are you? I don't know if your requests are still open, but I would like to ask Ragnar something... with a lot of dirt, something like Ragnar falls in love with a Christian she meets his desires with a lot of dirt... lol thank you! (sorry my first language is not english) ��

Thank you so much for this request, you have no idea how much your support for my writing means. Not proofread we die like men

Requests are open

Little Doe

4,166 words

Warnings: Fluff, smut, P in V sex, oral sex (M and F receiving), fingering, loss of virginity, running away to live with a handsome Viking, talks of religious repression and arranged marriage. While this sort of fits with the cultural timeline, I must stress that it's all consensual. Period typical treatment of daughters and women.

Ragnar sees you from far away on a raid. It's love at first sight, and now he has to have you.

He had been trudging through the woods when he saw you, crouched by a stream in nothing but your undergarments washing your clothes.

He was awestruck, it was like Frigg herself had opened up a window to Valhalla to shine upon you.

The rustle of other raiders behind him pulled him out of his daydreams; you in the river, coming out with your clothes stuck to your form.

"By the Gods, she is beautiful" at that moment Ragnar hated the sound of that man's voice, you were his alone to look at, to admire.

"She's not yours to pluck Olaf, we must stay quiet or we'll reveal our position." Ragnar felt like a wolf staring down a doe, you would be his.

He gave a whispered order to the rest of his men "we have no idea how many people are in the area, we need to backtrack and go through a more dense area of forest."

His men listened without a question, he knew he was just adding hours to their journey but there was no way he would put you in their path.

"Frode take them men around the back while I stay here and check for scouts" Ragnar knew there were no scouts in the area, the men here were lazy and clearly didn't know how to fight. He was there to take a longer look at you, maybe he would even get to hear your voice.

He moved closer methodically, being careful not to make a sound, then he slipped on a loose rock.

You're head shot up at the soft sound, you have heard rumours of men from the north coming to your shores and you were prepared. Your damp clothes forgotten, you reached behind a rock to produce a sword.

Ranger watched as you took the stance of a warrior, sword held in hand like a practised expert. He felt pride spread through his chest, maybe his little doe was more of a wolf than he thought.

He slinked away, content at his first experience of your beauty.

Your POV

You were being watched, you could feel it like cold hands running up your back. A soft crack directed you towards a cluster of trees, for only a brief movement you saw a flash of white flesh and the outline of a large man.

A realisation of both fear and excitement crossed over you, the Northmen were here.

"I saw a man in the trees this morning father." You had mentioned it in passing while you chopped the vegetables, your Father was sitting in a wooden chair doing nothing, as usually.

"It's was probably one of the boys spying on you, I really wish you would wash from the well, you will dishonour my good name if you keep it up."

You hated the man, he was a lazy, rude, drunk. Not only that, but he was planning on marrying you off to the highest bidder the moment your older brother left. You were already late to marry, having turned down every suiter at your door, your Father would be very displeased if he found out you had no plans on marrying the man he had lined up for you.

Ragnar POV

He could not think of anything other than the feel of your skin under his hands, he imagined it would be soft but with the hardness of village life underneath.

He imagined the children you would give him, he could see girls as brave and beautiful as you, with his eyes and your hair.

He imagined you as his Queen.

****

Your POV

It had been three days since you saw a flash of a man by the river. A storm had come upon the area, God was angry for some reason, maybe it's because you couldn't stop thinking about a faceless man whisking you away from here, away from your Father and your wrathful God.

"We need water!" your Father's voice was far too booming for your small home. It was pouring outside, the rain so cold it had turned into shards of hard ice.

"Father I collected enough for the day this morning" you knew you should have kept your mouth shut but it was so cold out there, and your bother had taken all your furs to go hunting.

He was not having your backtalk, before you knew it, you were being tossed outside, and the bucket was being launched at your head. "Go get some water from the river or you will sleep outside tonight."

The only thing you could feel was the cold, you were soaked the moment you started walking, but you could hear the river racing close by.

Wary of the things that might be lurking in the woods, you walked as fast as you could in the almost pitch dark. You hoped your Father had the sense to start a fire for your return.

As you got closer, the raging river was spitting icy water at your face, it felt like the brush of tiny knives. You have moved to a slower moving area pilled with rocks, at least if you fell in here you wouldn't be swept away. But it was slippery and the heavy bucket was weighing you down, all it took was one foot wrong and you were falling into the unforgiving water.

Ragnar POV

He had split from the group to have some time by himself and found himself by the same river he saw you washing in three days ago. His thoughts drifted to you for the millionth time that day when he heard a pained shout, his head flung over just in time to see your form falling under the water.

His legs were moving before his brain gave him permission, he could see you losing the flight to the cold and the current. He did not hesitate to pull off his tunic and drive into the shallow water after you.

The cold didn't bother him, many swims in the frozen North Sea had prepared him for this very moment, he reached you with speed he didn't think was possible, it was as if Hermod the Swift had taken control over his body.

Your POV

This must be the coldness of death, your lungs burnt with the urge to breathe, you had seen people disappear under the cold water more than once, you knew you had to get out but the rolling surface was drifting suther and further away.

Then you felt it, an agonising heat that felt like the hands of a demon, and then you could breathe. The last thing you saw was a face and a mass of hair before you passed out.

Ragnar POV

You were shaking and there was no life to your skin, gone was the woman who looked ready to slit him from navel to nose, he felt as if he was holding the most fragile thing in all the nine realms.

He saw the looks he was getting as he came upon his tent, he did not care. Your clothes were stuck to you in the worse way possible, he could almost see them sucking the heat from your skin.

"You can never let someone stay in wet clothes, they will steal the warmth from someone. I've seen people die faster from wet clothes than from the cold water" He was ever grateful for Kattegat's healer, the insistent that everyone learns how to treat a drowning victim had never gone astray.

This was not how he imagined removing your clothes for the first time. In his dreams, you were awake and responsive, he imagined you would moan like a valkyrie.

He chose to advert his eyes while he pulled off your life-sucking clothing, he would look at you when you were awake and soft and small under his touch.

Duty done, he wrapped you in as many furs as he could find and went about building a fire close enough to the tent that you would be able to feel its warmth.

****

Your POV

God must have taken pity on you, for you were sure you were in heaven. You were wrapped in something warm that smelt of spices and musk, you could hear the crackle of a fire and smell the burning wood.

Except as you opened your eyes, you didn't think heaven would look like a small canvas tent. When you sat up, you could see someone sitting just inside the tent, the man shared the same shape as the man you saw in the woods days ago, the man that picked you from the icy depths.

The warmth meant that it took time for you to realise you were naked. However, you felt no pain, only heat and safety. Regardless you looked for a weapon and your eyes fell on a small dagger in the corner.

"I'm not going to hurt you little doe, there's no need to stab me" his voice was foreign but friendly, his tongue slid over the words like cream falling over baked apples.

He looked like one of the paintings in the church, made by God himself and painted in his image. He had the kindest blue eyes you had ever seen, like pools of seawater in the winter.

"Thank you sir, but I must go back home. My Father will be worried sick" you knew he wasn't but that didn't matter, the rumours would spread fast and you couldn't be seen near a Northmen encampment.

"No, he won't, I overheard some men in your village talking about how much he wanted to get rid of you" he seemed very angry, it wasn't directed at you by you found it hard not to be scared of him.

When he saw the change in you he softened himself. "He sent you out in the freezing cold to collect water you didn't need, he hasn't sent anyone to look for you and he hasn't come looking himself." He was not being mean or harsh, his tone was kind, like how a parent explains a nastiness to a sensitive child.

You had no idea how he knew all of this. Maybe he was a demon.

"Don't be alarmed, little doe, you talk in your sleep" thoughts of evil were gone, all you could think of was this nice stranger wrapping you in his arms to keep the cold air at bay.

"You may stay here as long as you like, your clothes are almost dry." He looked so sad as if he was letting go of a bird whose wing he had healed.

"Or, you can stay and I can show you the world and make you my Queen."

****

That night had been uneventful after that, he had collected your clothes and turned his back while you dressed. When it came time to settle for the night he pressed himself to the opposite side of the tent so you could sleep in peace.

That didn't matter, by the time the morning glow drifted into the tent you were in his arms with your face pressed into his chest.

"Good morning little doe, did you sleep well?" he had a smug smile on his face, he knew something he wasn't letting on.

"Yes actually, for the first time in a long time I'm not waking up feeling like the walls are falling in on me."

"You really do talk in your sleep, I had no idea you thought I was so tall" you went to hind your face in shame but he grabbed your hands.

"There's no need for that anymore, when you come back to my kingdom you can have me as much as you want" it felt as if you'd known him your whole life, there was no doubt in your mind you would follow him to the ends of the earth.

He looked over your face carefully "So you are staying with me?"

You took a deep breath and squared your shoulders "I see no reason to go back, you've shown me more kindness in the last few hours than I've had in my whole life"

"Do you have a name little doe?" he didn't know what would fit you, he imagined it was something that reflected all he saw in you.

"Perhaps I should introduce myself first, I'm Ragnar Lothbrok, king of Kattegat and the scourge of Christians through all of England.

"I'm y/n, I have no titles or claims or royalty, just y/n." You seemed so sad, like you had been told being you wasn't enough.

Ragnar POV

He wanted to blood eagle your Father, however, he didn't deserve a warrior's death. So he would settle for raiding his village, corrupting his daughter, and then, he will make watch while he makes you his Queen.

He could see far more of you this close, the found the colour of your eyes and the fall of your hair more intoxicated than any mead or wine he has ever drunk.

His thoughts were drifting again, your hair wrapped in his hands, your lips around him. His thoughts didn't matter now, as far as he saw it you were his and he was yours.

****

The raid had ended much easier than he expected, the village was poorly defended and there was very little to take. In fact, per your request, no one unarmed was hurt and the men kept their hands to themselves.

Ragnar never had the stomach for that sort of thing, real men fought with their fists and swords so he had no problem telling his men to take the loot and leave the women.

Your younger Cousin had decided to follow you to Kattegat, wooed by Ragnar's brother's tales of women being able to learn to fight, of being able to own property and partake in the law.

The only one that was dragged away against their will was your Father. He was put in chains and made to walk behind Ragnar's horse, you could feel the steady breathing of the beast under you, Ragnar had been stunned by your care for the animal, your worry that he couldn't hold both of you.

The ride to the boats was calm, the horses trotted along stopping occasionally to eat some grass or drink some water. Your Father soon learnt to keep his mouth shut, he had met his match in Ragnar, all it took was one look and the man was shrinking away from him.

You had always been frightened of the ocean but the broiling sea may as have been an ocean breeze when you were in Ragnar's arms, you spent the journey hearing of tales from your new home and of the Gods.

As you got closer you could feel the excitement, it was like a charge in the air. Your cousin had taken a liking to one of the younger men, he couldn't have been more than 16 but he was tall and already had tattoos over his arms and chest. Ragnar told you he was a good choice, that he was a brave warrior and good man.

At the end the of last day you could see the fires of Kattegat burning in the distance and see the tall watchtowers. As the ship pulled into port you'd felt like you were coming home after being away for years, this place was so much brighter than your tiny hamlet.

****

Nightfall brought a huge feast, you had never seen so much food or so many kinds. Ragnar look at you with joy as you tried all the new things, fresh berries and tender meat that had been cooking for days

Ragnar lifted a sticky yellow goo to your mouth. You had grown to love every one of his touches, each one portraying his building affection.

"Is this honey?" There was a wonder in your voice that made his mind drift to other things.

"Try it and find out" he didn't know what you'd do, he was hoping you'd take his finger into your mouth so he could get a taste of what was to come.

You leaned forward and licked the tip of his finger, the slight of your pink tongue was making his life even harder. You couldn't help the smile that came over your face, it was the most delicious thing you had ever eaten.

You could see the expression on Ragnar's face, like he wanted to consume you whole, like he wanted to climb inside your chest and see what was going on in there.

"Perhaps you can show me to our new quarters?" you didn't want to overstep, maybe you only slept so close in the last few weeks because of the lack of space.

"Of course, my doe, it's getting late anyway."

****

The room was huge, in the middle was a vast bed that could have slept at least 4 people, it and the floor were covered in various furs and there were draws and chests throughout the room. It was lit with a few large candles, casting a soft yellow light that faded at the edges.

"This is your home now y/n I want you to have anything your heart desires"

"And if my heart desires you?"

You knew what you wanted to say but you were having trouble getting the words out. The open and casual contact was a lot to get used to. You had come from a place where you don't even kiss a man until your wedding night, and you were about to crawl into bed with someone who only a few weeks ago, you thought was a godless heathen.

"I heard some of the other men talking, they said you would enjoy me." You took another deep breath.

"I would like to be able to enjoy you as well"

Ragnar reached up to you with a soft touch, your eyes closed on instinct as he leaned in to kiss you. This was not the first time you two had kissed, it wasn't even the tenth but this one was different.

You could feel an edge, an urgency. You wanted nothing more than to collapse into him, to let him have you in whichever way his heart wished.

"I'm yours little doe"

With that you were falling to your knees, Ragnar looked a little shocked, if not very happy.

"I heard some other women talking, it sounded fun"

He let you undress him, let you run your hands over his body and regard him. You were a little taken aback when his undergarments were gone, sure you had seen one in person but it didn't look like that.

Ragnar saw your curious look, "We are much cleaner than English men, there's no need to remove anything when we bathe every day"

You suddenly looked shy.

"I'm not sure what I'm doing here" he ran his hands over your scalp, it was a gesture full of love.

"Do whatever feels right, I'll help you if you need it"

You wrapped your hand around it, you were surprised at how warm and soft it was.

"Can you show me what you like?" you wanted it to be good for him, you knew men strayed when they didn't get what they wanted.

He looked at you with such fondness as he reached down to wrap his hands over yours, his grip was a little harder as he moved your hand up and down his cock.

His head was slowly dropping back and his mouth was slightly open, you leaned forward and mimicked what you did to his finger earlier in the night and Ragnar inhaled like he was dying to breathe.

"You're doing so well my doe" Ragnar wanted nothing more than to fuck your face until he came down your throat but there's was plenty of time for that later.

Emboldened by his praise you put the tip in your mouth and sucked gently, Ragnar made the mistake of looking down at you and he realised that if he let you continue the night might end sooner than he wanted it to.

"Your turn y/n"

He stood to his full height and you suddenly felt very small. He was deliberate in removing your clothes, each piece gone was met with a brush of his hand over your skin and a kiss to your face.

"You are the most beautiful thing I've ever seen" by the look on his face you believed every word.

"Lay on the bed and relax"

You knew what was coming next, all the older girls talked about it.

"It always hurts, the sooner you put up with it the sooner it's over"

"Men don't care how we feel, they just get off and leave"

"Don't deny your husband ever, it will just make him hard to live with"

Ragnar saw the change in you, his touch become gentle and benign.

"We won't do anything you don't want to do and I promise I will never do anything to hurt you, if you don't like something or it causes you pain it stops"

You wanted to weep with relief, maybe the hushed whispers between some of the women were true and this would be good.

He kissed just your face at first, then he slowly moved down your body. Over each collar bone and to your breasts, he kissed your nipples and when you let out a breath he pull one into his mouth.

He looked up at you, assessing for a change of heart. When he found none, he continued his path down your body, over your hip bones up both your legs and then towards your centre.

"You're so wet already, good girl"

"Please" You had no idea what you were asking for but he seemed to. With a practised movement he licked from your clit to your entrance and then back again.

After doing that for a few minutes, he brought your clit into his mouth and sucked softly. Your back bowed, there was no way this could feel so good.

It got even better when you felt something breach you, it didn't hurt quite the opposite, it was a wonderful pressure that created an exquisite stretch. Another gasp, this one higher and more desperate.

"More, please more" all you could hear was the rush of blood in your ears and Ragnar's soft chuckle against your skin.

You felt him shift and the pressure increased, it was just past the good side of comfortable.

"I feel so full"

Ragnar didn't think he could get any harder, you were going to be so much fun.

"It's just two of my fingers my love, how about we do this for a little while then see how you feel?"

You nodded and then moaned as he pressed his fingers upwards. You were starting to feel overwhelmed in the best way possible. You felt something snap and within the next heartbeat, you were filled with amazing pleasure.

You lost count of how many times you reached that peak before Ragnar pulled away from you. He was spreading the ample wetness from his earlier work all over his cock.

"You are ready little doe?" You nodded violently.

"Remember, if it hurts we stop" the look he was giving you gave you the impression that he really meant what he said.

"Yes, please I need you"

With that, he was on top of you laying soft kisses on your lips, you could feel him moving his body around and then one hand was holding your leg open.

You felt more pressure, this time more intense.

More

More

More

And then it stopped and you felt as if he was going to spilt you open, he took in the look on your face and your small breaths.

"Do you want me to stop?" you shook your head.

"Do you want to stay here, just like this for a little while?" you gave a tentative nod and he pressed some more weight onto you. It was comforting, the added weight of his body added to the floating feeling that was taking over your brain.

It may have been a minute it may have been a heartbeat when you felt the uncomfortable fullness fade.

"Move please" with another kiss to your lips Ragnar began a slow drag in and out.

In out in out in out in out in out.

Your fingers dug into his arms.

In out in out in out in out in out in out in out in out.

Your back bent as you shook.

Inoutinoutinoutinoutinoutinoutinoutinoutinoutinoutinout.

"Y/n, by the Gods you are a gift" he let out one last groan and you felt him pulse inside of you as he dropped on top of you.

You shuttered as he pulled out.

"Sore?" he sounded worried.

"No, just a little sensitive"

After a few moments, he got up and got a cloth to clean you up. Then he was pulling you into his arms and draping a blanket over both of you.

"I love you little doe"

"I love you, Ragnar"

I hoped you liked it, it's by far the longest thing I've written.

Feedback is very much appreciated.

[forvalhallaandodin]

The Girl With Fire In Her Veins

Here is little sneak peak of a story I’m working on. I’ve had it stuck in my head for like a year or so and I’m finally putting it out there. 

Summery: Rowena MacLeod’s life came crashing down around her when she was 17. For eight years, she is forced to fight her way through the Saxon’s challenges until the Vikings show up. 

I was 17 when my family and I were traveling across the country of England with just our packs and caravan. My mother, Ada, and father, Fergus, had decided to travel after my brother, Callan, was born and we did. We traveled from our home in Scotland and over into Norway and Denmark, making our way into Germany and into Frankia before eventually getting to southern England.

Eventually we were going to be making our way back into Scotland but at the time we didn’t know that Scots was in a feud with England. By the time we reached Northumbria, we had barely been bothered since we usually kept off the main roads. I was the only one that could speak Saxon along with our home language of Gaelic, with Norse, French and German.

When we reached Northumbria when I was 17, our family had expanded with mother giving birth to another boy, Kian, and then a girl, Mollie. Father could speak basic English and some words in Norse. Callan could speak French while my younger siblings were still developing with Gaelic.  

After about a week of traveling, we were confronted by a group of King Aella’s soldiers. They were questioning my father on why were on the King’s land. That we were unwelcomed. We had no clue that England was in a feud with Scots (Gaelic speakers) at this point in time. My father didn’t understand and wanted me to translate but the soldiers were getting aggressive and would not let me speak.  

It happened so quick.

The soldier ran my father through with his sword.  

I was stunned and almost couldn’t move as I watched my father fall the ground.  

The sound of my mother and siblings screaming snapped me out of my thoughts. Clenching my jaw, I rushed forward towards the men that were reaching for my mother and siblings. I went for the smallest man, taking his wrist that was reaching for his sword and twisting it while my free hand simultaneously reached for his sword to pull it from his sheath. I twisted myself under his arm to put him an uncomfortable situation to put the sword through his armpit.  

Two of the soldiers that had stood next to him had frozen in shock at the fact that I had downed one of the soldiers. I took the opportunity to slice at the one on the right, twisting as I swung. Blood poured from his neck and splattered onto my neck, face and chest.  

My mother took the distraction and ushered my siblings into the caravan and then stood behind it.  

I quickly turned to the other soldier, standing sideways as I bent back as he tried to stab me. I quickly swung the sword into the opening he gave me as he stumbled. I cut his side and then when he fell to his knees, I positioned myself behind him to grip his chin and taking the sword to his neck and slicing it.  

I locked eyes with the man that killed my father as I glared at the twinkle that gleamed in his eye.  Two more of the soldiers rushed forward and they stupidly both swung at my head, making me duck down and I lunged forward to slice both tendons at the back of the knees.  

One of them dropped one of their swords and I quickly picked it up. Twirling the swords in my hands so that I was holding them backwards I thrust the swords back, stabbing the soldiers in their necks.  

Pulling them out, I kept my breathing even, but I could feel the blood in my veins on fire as my energy kept up with my movements. I twirled the swords in my hands so that they were facing the right direction. I kept my eyes on the other soldiers in front of me. There were about eight more and I knew that the gods were not in my favor today, but I was not dying without a fight.  

The biggest soldier along with two more came forward and the big one swung hard.  

I jumped to the side to avoid the hit and then parried the soldier to his left.  

Eventually, I was grappled by the big one and his arms were wrapped around my arms and waist, crushing me and making me drop the swords.  

I was cursing him in Gaelic and English as I thrashed around in his hold before Mother’s yell caused my head to snap over.  

The leader had grabbed mother’s hair and had forced her to her knees and then put a dagger at her throat.  

Mother locked eyes with me. Both of us had tears trailing down our cheeks before her resolve hardened and she gritted her teeth.  

“Fear cuts deeper than swords.” She spoke to me in Gaelic. A saying we learned in Germany.  

Clenching her jaw, she closed her eyes just before the man sliced her throat.  

She gargled as he threw her to the ground while locking eyes with me.  

The sounds of my siblings' sobs along with any other sounds slowly disappeared from my senses as the only thing I felt was anger and devastation at this man killing both of my parents.  

My face scrunched up in pain and anguish before I screamed loud and then leaned forward as much as I could before knocking my head back into the head of the man holding me, I could hear a crunch of his nose breaking and he let me go as he reached up to his broken nose.

Diving for the sword at the ground, I was barely able to grab it before a boot covered the metal of the sword.  

Quickly looking up, the lead man looked down at me before he punched me in the face. Falling back, I was disoriented, and the taste of copper filled my mouth. Looking up, my eyes focused while blinking very slowly at the silhouette of the leader standing over me.  

I felt him grab at my tunic and him pulling me to sit up before he punched me again... Knocking me unconscious.  

[sammyjadedavis]

Ragnar: What’s the best way to calm down your child who wishes to murder his wife’s ex boyfriends?

Rollo: Which son of yours wishes to kill all of their wife’s exs?

Athelstan: Is it Bjorn? Please be Bjorn! Jarl Borg and Erlendur have always freaked me the out! Dear God let it be Bjorn!

Ragnar: It’s Bjorn he found out about how Guthrum was conceived and now to add to that he also saw a video of Erlendur hitting Torvi…

Floki: Why don’t we just let Bjorn do what he pleases then we just need a really good lawyer…Rollo is Gisla still a lawyer?

Rollo: Yes she is, and they say she’s one of the best…I think I agree with Floki on this one.

Ragnar: Athelstan are you sure your okay with this?

Athelstan: For once I support this…I’m all in…

Bjorn: Thank the Gods! And Rollo remember to tell Gisla she’s my favourite Aunt…

Rollo: She’s your only aunt…

Bjorn: Not the point.

[stefivare]

Bjorn’s test was brutal

[themuselesswriter]

Kattegat Dessert and Sweets

Characters: Ragnar Lothbrok, Rollo Lothbrok, Floki, Bjorn, Ubbe, Hvitserk, Sigurd, Ivar, Aslaug, Lagarths, Torvi

Summary: in a world, where Vikings is a reference to the workers of a sweets cafe, Ragnar Lothbrok, runs a cafe with the aid of his five sons, a documentary about their work and life is being filmed by a show named Behind the glass doors, that shows the struggles of being a worker of a successful place, the stress, the tears, the laughs, the breakdowns, all exclusive. Basically an AU where our beloved Vikings are in a modern setting and instead of invading lands they make cupcakes and cookies.

Word count: 13323

Warnings: alcoholism, ptsd, implied death, drugs

A/N: this is unfinished work which will probably remain unfinished because the writer is museless but you can still enjoy it

Credits: Filter -viking by me, image- pintrest

———————————Teaser————————————

Kattegat, the famous dessert and sweets cafe which everyone is obsessed with nowadays, the hipsters like the authenticity of the place and now, you need to book a table to eat here on the weekends! Kattegat has been in the Lothbrok family for a few years now, Ragnar Lothbrok bought it from Mr. Haraldson, it is now run by Ragnar Lothbrok and his five sons, but life’s never been as magical as it seems.

11:30 a.m.

A fiftyish years old man entered an office in the back of the restaurant with the cameramen following him, filming everything, not leaving any details out, he seemed both, uncomfortable and eager “remind me, how does this work?” He asked as a nametag showed on the left Ragnar Lothbrok, manager, it read “we’ll film every second of your lives for the next week, and use the clips in an exclusive show that’s called behind the glass doors, you’ll have to do interviews and such, it’s like keeping up with the Kardashians, only better and it’s for people who actually earned their fame through hard work” the man behind the camera replied “oh, I’m familiar with that show” Ragnar replied with a smile.

“alrighty then! Let’s start! When did you buy this place?” The voice said again “I bought it when my son, Bjorn was only a child... I believe around ten? I’m bad with dates, I was broke, not the infamous Ragnar, I lived in a studio apartment with Lagartha and my two children, I was just a dish boy at first, cleaning up after people, Haraldson fired me for wanting a promotion” he laughed “I disappeared for a while, worked hard in different jobs, then I heard Haraldson was selling the place, me, Lagartha, Rollo, and Floki… We put our money together and bought it, and now we own branches in Iceland and France!”

“How did you come up with the dessert idea?” The voice asked again “well, funny, it started as a cupcake shop, we had cupcakes to die for, we still make them, Lagartha always liked cupcakes, one day I thought what if we make cookies too? Lagartha didn’t like it, she said we should focus on cupcakes they are our masterpiece, and leave others, for now, I refused… our first try to sell cookies, wasn’t successful and it caused problems, plenty, eventually, Lagartha left the job, then me, Bjorn and Gida with her, then Aslug came and I started a new life, had children… four, and developed the shop, you know, life goes on, but most of those desserts are Bjorn’s ideas, he’s an explorer! He comes up with something new all the time!”

“How’s life as a manager?” , “as the manager, I have to deal with papers more than anything, I’m retiring soon though, all of my children have a role here, Bjorn will take my place as manager, Ubbe will be hall manager, Hvitserk will run the kitchen, Sigurd will handle the social media and Ivar will do the economic stuff, all I did by myself when I was younger but now I can rely on my boys.” Ragnar replied then looked at a family portrait on the wall

“what about Gida?” The man asked “Gida’s more into a simple life, restaurant stress isn’t for her, she’s helping refugees in Saudan instead as a teacher” The next minute was Ragnar going through papers and checking up on their other branches, the France branch was on fire but Iceland needed more work according to their latest statics

02:05 p.m.

Two tall men were whispering to each other in a corner, as the camera went closer the name tags appeared reading Bjorn, the hall manager, and Ubbe, the host. it was midday and more than half of the tables were taken “boys please, keep your mics on you all the time! It’s in the contract!” The producer, Holly Smith begged behind the camera “apologies, we were talking about a private matter” Bjorn said bowing his head “you agreed, no secrets or privacy for the next week, if you gonna discuss dirty matters, the whole world gotta hear it” she replied and the boys laughed

“dirty matters? No! We were discussing what to put for tomorrow’s special!” Bjorn laughed “yeah, our lives is that boring, that when we have a chance we discuss even more food matters” Ubbe added.

“I don’t believe that! But since we’re talking food special... Can we know what it will be?” the voice behind the camera asked “no spoilers! That’s the first rule in show business” Bjorn winked at the camera then looked at the door as it opened, he nudged Ubbe’s arm and sighed “we have a case of thirty-nine” the camera turned and showed four middle-aged women walking in, Ubbe walked to them and greeted them then helped them find a seat.

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[lovlydovlyjaycie]

Ævi - The Protector

Hey, so this is going to be a mini series on something I have tried to do before. But I thought of a different way to make it shorter and to make it make more sense. I hope you like it, this idea has been in my head for honestly.. a couple of years now lol. I just decided I really want to put it down somewhere. And where is better than here? Am I right?! lol

Summary: This is set in 2010. There are no such things as superheroes. Right? Maybe Iron Man, but that is it. It has to be. Y/n was just trying to celebrate her birthday, but that quickly changed when she got a gift from a mysterious man.

Warnings: Fluff, violence, maybe one swearword

Characters: Y/n, Bjorn Ironside, Ragnar Lothbrok, Floki, Lagertha, OC Emma, OC Lars, OC Sanna, OC Nils, OC David Mentioned: Iron Man, Odin, Ivar, Ubbe, Hvitserk, Sigurd, Rollo

Main Masterlist 

Series Masterlist

Part 3

Bjorn Pov

This Frost Giant seemed to have gotten the upper hand on me. I was laying on the ground doing anything in my power to push him off, but nothing seemed to work. The Frost Giant got his sword and tried to push it against my throat, but before he could start doing that he fell limp. Y/n had killed him and the other Frost Giant. I knew she could fight, I was so proud of her. But she seemed to be a little distraught. “See you’re a better fighter than you think.” I tried making her feel better. I knew where were she was from before she got here, that fighting was not a skill you needed. But she was a natural, she just didn’t believe it. She had to let go of what ever thought was holding her back and I will keep reminding her of her to let go even if it is the last thing I do. After my comment she could only muster up a; “You’re stupid.” After all of that happened it made me laugh. She knew she did something incredible deep down. I quickly looked her up and down for injuries and I saw she had a cut on her arm. Or there used to be a cut, there was blood on her clothes but not on her arm. How strange. “Are you ok?” I asked y/n. Maybe it was blood of one of the Frost Giants. She also checked her arm like she was expecting a cut but nothing was there. ”I-I’m ok.. I thought I.. I’m ok-.” Then a sword went through her abdomen. Everything seemed to slow down and speed up at the same time in this moment. Her blood came gushing out the moment the sword got pulled back and I didn’t think twice and looked at the creature who did it. Another Frost Giant. The Frost Giant came charging at me, but I ducked away from his blows. In that time I picked up my axe I had dropped earlier and without thinking I threw my axe as hard as I could at his skull. I hit him right between the eyes and he dropped to the ground instantly. 

Then I saw Y/n laying lifeless on the ground. This cannot be happening. A moment ago she saved me, a moment ago I kissed her, a moment ago I met her in the woods and she blasted me away. A moment ago she was alive. “No, no, no, no! Wake up!” I said as I kneeled down and held her head with my hands. “You are supposed to live! You hear me?! Come on wake up!” I yelled at her, hoping somehow she would wake up and this was all a bad dream. But nothing happened. Her cheeks were all gone of the red color it held when I was around her. Her eyes also looked like there was no life in her body anymore. “Come on wake up!” I yelled again. Nothing. I decided to pick her up and go back to the longhouse quickly. I don’t know why I felt like I needed to go there, but I did anyway. I also quickly picked up the sword I had given her also moments ago and ran as fast as I could. 

Ahead of me I saw Frost Giants running. If this is the end faith had decided it and this is how I die as well. As I got ready for whatever the Frost Giants were going to do to me, nothing happened. They ran right past me. Was I dead as well? I can’t be right? Whatever that was I decided to ignore it and kept running towards the longhouse.

When I arrived my family was there. Ragnar, Lagertha, Rollo, Ubbe, Hvitserk, Sigurd, Ivar and my friend Floki. They all seemed bruised up from the fight. “What happened id y/n ok?” Lagertha was the first one to notice me coming in and holding y/n. That seemed to gather everybody's attention. And I moved forward towards a table that I could lay y/n down on. and put the sword next to her. “One of the Frost Giants got to her. I.. She’s gone.” I felt defeated. She was the one to save us all. I convinced everyone that she was the one. I still think, no, I still know that she is the one to save us all. But this.. She was gone, how could she be gone. Ragnar came standing right next to me and put his hand on my shoulder. “Then we have to save us. It is what the Gods intended.” He spoke. Was it? Then why would they send her. “She was never going to save us, she didn’t even know how to fight she was weak and now she’s gone.” Ivar said from his spot far away from where everybody had gathered to stand by y/n. “Ivar have some respect.” Sigurd retorted. “Oh shut it. You only liked her for what was under her skirt.” Ivar retorted. This seemed to piss off Sigurd and myself as well. “Enough! We don’t know if she was here to save us or not, but now we will never know. Like father said, we have to save us. We have to fight for Kattegat. And we will win.” I said loudly. How dare they disrespect a beautiful woman like y/n. They didn’t see her fight. I turned around and held her hand. “She was our hope and now we are our own hope. That’s what she was here for..... Hope.” And I squeezed her hand. But then she squeezed back. Was I imagining things? “Y/n?” I said softly.

Y/n Pov

I was surrounded by darkness, floating. I didn’t feel like me. Then all of a sudden I felt something squeeze my hand, but it didn’t feel like I was holding anything. I tried to squeeze back. And then I felt it. It felt like a hand. Slowly I started feeling my whole body again. And my I felt my stomach, it felt like I was on fire. I wanted to scream, but no sound came out, no air came out, nothing. Even more slowly I could feel my whole body again and then I realized I was not breathing. I gasped for air and sat up, my eyes wide open. I was couching up a storm trying to catch my breath. I quickly glanced around me and saw Bjorn, Lagertha and Ragnar before something bright surrounded me and I flew up. Bright colors were surrounding me and it almost looked like I could see stars behind all the colors. Am I dead? What was happening? I went at a speed I had never experienced before. 

I wanted to scream, but then I landed with a thud on something that looked like glass or crystal. I looked around me and everything was gold. In front of me was a tall man with golden eyes. He looked like a VERY strong men. Compared to him the Vikings I met were nothing. I looked behind me and saw the weird rainbow and out came a whole table flying at me. I quickly dodged it and the man didn’t seem to be fazed that I almost got hit by a table. As I started to stand up looking back at the rainbow thing a sword flew out as well. This one almost impaled me and then it landed on in the stairs. It looked very stuck. Some more planks flew out of the rainbow before it closed.

I turned towards the tall man with the golden eyes. “Who are you and where am I?” I asked him. “You are in Asgard my child.” He said as a matter of fact. Like that wouldn’t confuses me. “Am I dead?” I wondered out loud. Is this where people when they die. “No, You are quite the opposite.” I walked around the stairs, but he stayed standing still in his spot. “Who are you?” I asked again. “Heimdall.” What the.. I am dead. There is no question about it. This can’t be real. “You seem confused.” He noted. “Well yes. This past week has been really strange. I got thrown into some weird place where everybody is a Viking. They have been telling me that they need me to fight some Frost Giants, which is apparently a real thing.. I think or this is still some weird dream I can’t wake up from. Then I got woken up in the middle of the night where I had to fight said Frost Giant and got ... Stabbed.... Are you sure I am not dead?” I was pacing around him but stood still in front of him for that last part. “You are not dead. It is not your time.” He was still staring at the place the rainbow was before, like I wasn’t even there. “How are you sure I’m not dead?” I asked. “Because I only see living souls and yours is very much alive and you will be for a very long time.” He can see the future? “Why am I here?” I asked him, like he had all the answers. “The all father wants to speak with you.” Who..?

“Y/n.” I heard from behind me. From all of this going on I didn’t see anybody walking up towards me. “Who are you?” I asked the old man. One of his eyes was covered with a golden eye patch. “Who do you think?” I had my ideas, but saying it out loud made me feel like I was crazy. But he was waiting for me to answer him, So I just say it out loud. “Odin?” I was unsure of myself. This can’t be real. But he nodded his head. “Follow me y/n, we’ll get you some new clothes.” He told me as he started walking away. I looked down to now only notice the big cut in my dress and covered with blood. This only made me question even more if I was dead. But I decided to follow him anyway. We walked on a very long bridge going straight towards a golden.. castle? It was enormous. Was this really Asgard?

-

Odin had shown me around the castle, but it was all a lot to take in. He had introduced me to his sons Thor and Loki, his wife Freya and a handful of other people I already forgot the names of. It was a lot to take in. I was given new clothes, but I kept my belt I luckily didn’t lose in everything that was happening and put it on. Even though it was very ironic the tree became my symbol, it spoke to me. It also felt like they were playing a joke on me here as well, as I was given a white dress to wear.. again. I was asked to meet Odin outside of my chambers to follow him somewhere again.

We went into a room that was covered in gold again. Everything was gold here. I felt so small everywhere I walked here, because all the ceilings were so high and every room was so big. “Why am I here.” I asked Odin. I didn’t specifically mean this room. Just in general here on Asgard or with the Vikings. Although Bjorn was a definitive plus side to all of this happening to me, I’d still rather go to where I was from. “For many reasons. One to start with is that stone you have there.” He said pointing to my chest. I looked down and didn’t see anything. “I.. I don’t have a stone.” I responded. “You do. It is hidden right there.” He told me. He came closer to me and all of a sudden me chest started lighting up. It was the same light I saw when I touched the stone before. “You are it’s chosen protector.” Odin said like it was obvious. Then the light suddenly stopped. “Look I don’t know what has been happening and I don’t care, but whatever was just lighting up in my chest you can have it if it means I get to go home.” These last coulple of days made no sense and I just wanted to go home, everybody was probably so worried. “But the home you grew up in doesn’t exist. At least not yet.”

This confirmed what I have been afraid of. I am in the past. “I will never see my family again.” I said under my breath. My mom, my dad, Emma, Sanna, Lars and even Nils. “Not necessarily.” Odin spoke. “What?” I asked, from by the looks of Bjorn and everyone around me there it looked like I was at least a thousand years in the past. And that certainly is not someone’s average lifespan. “It needs a little more explanation. Come here.” He said walking towards a big golden table. On the table there was a tree. It looked like Yggdrasil.

“before creation itself there were seven singularities.” Odin started as the table started to light up. Above it was something floating, it looked like space. Odin continued. “Then the universe exploded into existence and the remnants of these systems were forged into concentrated ingots. Infinity stones.” He spoke as seven stones came in to view above the floating table. A blew one, yellow one, red one, purple one, green one, orange one and a slightly bigger white one compared to the rest. “These stones can only be brandished by beings of extraordinary strength. The blue stone otherwise known as the Space stone, yellow known as the Mind stone, red the reality stone, purple the Power stone, green the Time stone, orange the Soul stone and white the Life stone.” All the stones came into view one by one. “All these stones are powerful on their own. On their own the carriers can use the stone to wipe out an entire civilization. But to use more stones at once you need the Life stone to make it all work together. Because what is a soul, mind, power, time, space and reality all mean if it is not living. But soon after their creation the Life stone disappeared and was nowhere to be found, until you. Now a lot of people are trying to get the power you poses. Because once a group of people tried to use two of the stones without the life stone, but they were quickly destroyed by it.” I was shown images of all the death that was surrounding these stones. “And now you being here with the stone it means it is now possible to use more stones at once.” Odin went on to explain. “What if I give it to you to protect it? I’m not- I can’t protect it.” I told him. How was I supposed to do that? “The stone clearly has a life of it’s own and it chose you to defend it. Haven’t you noticed that anybody that came too close to you followed some repercussions?” He asked already knowing the answer. “The stone you posses shields you and gives you more power to protect you and the living around you. It has a very strong energy to keep the beings away that try to take it from you. Only you are it’s protector. You are the protector of the living as long as it’s needed. Maybe until you are back from where you are from. Vörðr  Ævi.” Protector of Life.

Would that make me immortal? Protecting this stone until that time. And who is to say that I would be done protecting it by then. “So this stone is giving me strength, some kind of energy and immortality?” I asked him as he would know the answer. “Yes and I believe you can manipulate that energy in whatever way you want to.” Odin walked around the table towards me. “How would I do that?” I asked him. “That’s why you’re here. We are going to figure out how that works.” For some reason I got really excited. I felt really powerful. I believed him even though it all still sounded so crazy. “But the people on... Midgard.. There are Frost Giants there. If it all is true what you are saying, shouldn’t I be there before anything happens to them. If I am the protector of the Life stone shouldn’t I also protect the people that are living?” I asked him. “Then we better hurry up.” He said as the table stopped with its projection floating above it.

-

I had been training for three days, which was hard in general, but I was also trying to figure out how to use the energy I had to my advantage which was even harder. Diferent people were training me and I barley had any rest. One day it was Odin and Heimdall, other days I got to train with Thor and Loki and the last day I got to train with the Valkyries. I felt like Thor was a show off and Loki was usually more in the background of things, even though I noticed when he was not in the back he liked to make everything like a grand entrance. The Valkyries were amazing fighters and it was hard to keep up with them. The whole time I could only think that Lagertha would love to fight with them. But Heimdall and Odin were the hardest to fight with. My guess is because they knew what I poses. Odin had told me to keep the information of me having the Life stone for myself.

On the last day of my training Odin had brought me to Freya to put a spell on me that would make it impossible to detect I was possessing this power. It hurt to put the spell on me, it almost felt the same as when I first touched the stone. “It worked, I don’t feel any power on her anymore.” Freya said. Good I would go unnoticed. “This will stay between us. No one must know of your power as it could be far to dangerous for the universe to know.” Odin told me. “It is time for you to go back and I will ready my army to join you later. But before that I have one last gift.” Odin walked away for a second and then came out with a big box. “Freya and her maids made this for you.” He explained.

I opened the box and inside there were clothes or a suit. I pulled it out and held it in front of me. It was all a broken white color. The boots were gold and they would reach over my knees on the chest was the tree Yggdrasil in gold as well. Then there were some golden lines the accentuate curves. And lastly there was a long golden flowy cape that would reach the ground. “Thank you it is beautiful!” I told both Freya and Odin.

After that I suited up and followed Odin back to the Observatory of Heimdall. “What will I be facing down there?” I asked Odin. “The Frost Giants came in the possession of the space stone, that is how they got to travel to Midgard. They want to start another Ice age there.” I don’t know what I was expecting, bit it was not that. “How did they get it?” I asked. “Hela gave it to them. Chaos and death surrounds her.” So everything Bjorn told me was true. Hela was there with them. But they are all so strong and well trained and now I was supposed to stop them? How? “How am I supposed to stop all of them?” “I am getting my army ready as we speak and we will be there shortly after you arrive.

He didn’t gave me time to respond as he guided me towards where the rainbow was beaming. “You posses more power than you think y/n, now use it.” He told me. “I will keep an eye on you out there.” Heimdall said in his calm voice. I was about to walk into the rainbow before Odin said something. “Don’t forget your sword.” I took it from his hands and held it up. For a brief moment it seemed to light up. “Now it is ready to be used by someone powerful like you. Now go you don’t have much time.” Odin said and I turned and walked in the rainbow. 

Everything was lighting up again and I could kind of see the stars behind the rainbow. It almost felt like this time it was quicker and I was back on earth, this time in my whole get up. I landed on the beach where everyone was staring at me. In the crowed I saw Bjorn running towards me. “Where have you been? Where you..?” He said as he looked up at the sky. “Yes. And now I’m here to help.”

...

..

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Let me know what you think :)

Also the suit I’m having in mind is kinda inspired by Wonder Woman 1984. At least the boots would be the same and the shoulder pieces would be gold. Besides that I’m imagining it a one piece in white and not really like armor, like Wonder Woman has in the movie. And then of course a tree on he chest. Hope that makes sense :) And btw also no helmet.

[superprincesspea]

Chapter 10: As you Please

Masterlist

Edithe’s sweet innocence infatuated Rollo like nothing else and the temptation to claim her was unending. Every touch they shared heated his core, every glance sizzled on his skin. How could she be so wild and tempestuous one minute and so deliciously naive in the next?

Did she have any idea what she stirred within him?

He laughed miserably at the way she ran from him. Cursing the Gods and cursing his overeager cock for filling with desperation at even the slightest hint of attention. But she had given it some attention, that much she couldn’t deny. She’d looked, and in his opinion she’d looked interested.

Perhaps that was why she ran and why she raged so vehemently in the next room.

His hand tightened around his length. Would he once more have to relieve the pressure? He closed his eyes, picturing her, not just looking at him but reaching out to touch.

By the God’s, if she had touched him he would have flipped her onto her back and plunged inside her with no restraint at all. How close she came to making him forget he’d ever promised to wait for her.

Now she lurked beyond the door and he willed her to open it, to see him, his legs spread and his hand pumping up and down. Already his release was close but he stopped, denying himself the final pleasure.

He’d not been so self reliant since he was a boy getting his arm ring and maybe a little pressure was what he needed now. He hadn’t brought home such a beautiful bedmate to spend every night touching her only in his fantasies.

Already it had been well over a month since he’d found her. They couldn’t go on like this forever. Their wedding day was fast approaching in his mind, a man could only wait so long with such sweet temptation laying in his bed night after night. He would be her husband soon enough and perhaps it was time he made greater headway in his endeavour.

He opened the door, stretching sleepy muscles and flexing everything else, much to her horror.

“Rollo!” she exclaimed, turning to face the wall and the sound of his name on her lips was music to his ears, filling his chest with a warmth that went beyond lust.

Strangely, after all this time she’d never called him by his name, always calling him heathen or some other insult. He’d learnt to enjoy those and receive them as love letters but Rollo sounded far better. He wanted her to say it again and perhaps standing here naked was not the best way to gain her favour but he’d committed to it now.

“It is just a body,” he said, lying to his own highly-strung libido as he grabbed a sack of oats from the shelf beside her. “You can look at me all you want. I am yours to do with as you please.”

If only she could say the same to him.

These days he didn’t know which of his words she understood. But from the way she shifted, her head ever so slightly turning to steal a glance, he thought perhaps she had understood him well enough.

He swallowed hard, desire almost reaching out to choke him. He was walking a dangerous line between his promise not to not touch her and his baser instincts.

“You can do more than look...” he dared to say, allowing his fingers to tiptoe along her spine.

She straightened her back, her attention now entirely on the wall. “ Heathen .”

Rollo chuckled, his fingers unable to stop as they swept the hair from her neck to expose her soft, untouched skin.

Edithe’s breath hitched and he licked his lips, a little kiss wouldn’t hurt. Just a little taste.

Slowly he edged closer to her, half expecting her to run away and promising himself he would stop if she did. But she didn’t move, she held her breath and as he learned in, the front door opened. Haedde appearing as she did every day yet the sight of her almost gave him a heart attack.

“Good morning,” he muttered, snapping himself from the heady spell of lust and quickly moving the sack of oats in front of him to preserve her old eyes from too much alarm.

“I will go,” she replied, eyeing them both with a smirk.

Every day he liked the old woman more and more and she seemed to settle into his household far easier than her Lady.

Rollo beckoned her, laughing softly now at his own misery. “Come in Haedde, I am just making breakfast for Edithe. I can see that she is very hungry this morning.”

He certainly was.

Edithe ran to Haedde’s protection, gesturing wildly as she condemned him in their private tongue.

“She says you are a beast,” Haedde scorned with a knowing smile. By now she was used to sending their messages without need for a filter.

He laughed again, Edithe said he was a beast most days and today she wasn’t wrong. Though he was fairly certain there wasn’t a man in the entirety of Kattegat who could have resisted her this morning or any other.

“I think she is a Goddess,” he praised but Haedde didn’t relay his words, Edithe was too busy hurrying to the bedchamber with another slam of the door.

After a few seconds, his clothes came flying out.

“Do you think I’m a beast, old woman?” he grinned, pulling on his trousers and partially regretting his actions.

Haedde didn’t answer but that was an answer all of its own.

“You can go for today,” he decided, ushering her out the door.

“But Lady Edithe-”

“Is in safe hands,” he promised, to Haedde, to himself, to any power which could stop his animal urges.

After a small breakfast, Rollo walked Edithe along the well-worn path to the meadow. It seemed no matter his behaviour she was still keen to leave the house and it was an exceptionally beautiful day.

When they reached their destination he spread his cloak across the grass before sitting to bask in the sunshine. It wasn’t often they had weather as hot as this, and even less often that he could take the time to simply enjoy it.

“I’m waiting, heathen,” she told him, tapping her sword impatiently against her leg.

Rollo breathed deeply, relaxing as he hooked his arm under his head and lay back to enjoy the burn of the sun's rays on his face. “It’s too hot a day to fight.”

His eyes were shut so he couldn’t see exactly what she was doing, but he could sense her frustration like the coming of a storm.

“Sit, Edithe,” he said, patting the grass beside him. “It will not kill you to relax.”

Still, she did not sit and slowly he opened his eyes to see her standing with her sword ready to strike.

“Why must you always be so stubborn?” he sighed.

Her eyes narrowed, her sword stance becoming more purposeful. She might have been a pious little Christian but she was not above hitting a man when he was down.

She struck with full force, her sword barely missing the side of his head.

“By Thor’s Hammer!” he cursed,  reaching for her, his hand bunching into the hem of her dress. He yanked it, forcing her off balance.

She wanted to fight, so he would fight but not in the way she hoped. He wrestled her to the ground, rolling on top of her, pinning her body under his. It was too easy, too tempting.

Was she doing this on purpose?

Maybe part of her wanted his hands on her?

“Stop,” she told him, wriggling in all the right ways to make him want to continue.

His eyes grazed her lips. “I will stop if you will stop,” he said, unsure if he could keep his end of the bargain.

She wriggled more, forcing him to hold her tighter.

This morning was not the only time he’d noticed her watching him when she thought he was distracted, or stifling her laughter at his jokes.

Surely she felt the spark every time their skin touched as it touched now.

He could feel the way her pulse raced under his fingertips and the look on her face was not one of fear. Nor was it one of hatred. Her cheeks were pink, her pupils blown.

“I think you like this, Valkyrie. I think you want to feel me between your thighs,” he whispered in her ear, daring her to deny him.

Slowly she stopped fighting and he loosened the grip he’d held on her wrists.

“We were fated for each other by the Gods. I think you can feel that too,” he said, it seemed impossible that he would be alone in such affection but he had been wrong before.

“I feel nothing, Rollo. I hate you and I’ll hate you until the long winter sets in and the world is swallowed by the sea and even in the void I will hate you.” Her words were dripping with venom but her voice was soft with uncertainty.

It seemed Edithe understood far more then he gave her credit for. He’d told her the story of Ragnarok many times and now she was using it against him.

His whole life, Rollo had been rejected by everyone he ever cared for. First his parents, then Lagertha, even the God’s favoured his little brother over him. Why should Edithe be any different?

She pushed him away and he let her, gathering his sword and shield.

“I’m done fighting with you,” he said, walking back towards Kattegat.

Edithe lingered in the field and he left her there. If it was fate, then it shouldn’t be this hard to win her favour. It would take a thousand lifetimes to make her care for him and he only had one.

By the time he was walking into town she’d caught up with him, keeping half a pace behind. Even though he was angry he still walked her safely home, leaving her there before he continued on.

At the training grounds he challenged any man who dared to fight him and when the day was over, his face was bruised and bloodied yet still he was still unsatisfied. He had an itch he needed to scratch and even the whore house did not satiate it.

In Ragnar’s longhouse everyone gathered to feast and drink and Rollo took his place at his brothers table with the others. He wanted to quench his thirst with mead and ale but all anybody could ask was why he was there and not in bed humping his Saxon woman. It was a good question.

Why was his setting himself this test?

“If you cannot handle her then she is always welcome to stay with Lagertha and I. Or maybe even Athelstan would enjoy the company...” Ragnar teased.

Rollo downed his drink sloppily before wiping his lips with the back of his hand. “Don’t test me, little brother.”

Ragnar laughed, “I am only trying to save you. Having a beautiful woman seems to make you even more miserable than before.”

Lagertha nudged her husband, rolling her eyes, “ignore him, Rollo.”

But he was hard to ignore. Ragnar was like all little brothers, a constant pain in the backside. He knew just how to claw his way under Rollo’s skin.

“Why not bring her here?” he said, jumping up on the table, dancing with his cup in hand, “let the ale strip her inhibitions and with any luck her clothes.”

“You are confusing the difference between a wife and a whore. Even an animal like me can wait until she is joined to me before the Gods.”

Ragnar stopped his dancing and the laughter at the table quietened, they were surprised. Even Rollo was surprised by his admission.

Of course, they’d assumed he was bedding Edithe. Why would anyone consider the alternative? He was well within his rights to do with her as he pleased, whether he married her or not.

But this was supposed to be his chance at something special, something that was his alone. Something which belonged to him instead of Ragnar.

Rolf was the first to speak, still cradling his ribs from the beating Rollo had given him in the training grounds. “You have not broken her in, Rollo? No wonder you are so foul-tempered these days.”

Rollo tightened his jaw, letting them laugh, what did it matter anyway?

“To my brother,” Ragnar smirked, raising his cup, “bedmate to the only maid in Kattegat.”

“Skol,” everyone at the table cheered except for Lagertha whose smile was more pitiful than anything else.

“I’m glad I can amuse you,” he said, leaving them to their jokes. Moving to drink with people who would not ask him so many questions.

He drank until he could no longer stand and slept where he fell. A heap on the floor with the rest of the drunkards while the lovers found comfort in each other's arms. This was where he belonged. Why try to change that?

It wasn’t fate to find Edithe. Just bad luck. He’d caught her to bring him happiness yet she’d brought nothing but torment and that was his curse. He was never meant to be happy, only ever alone and in the shadow of Ragnar.

[damn-stark]

Fools ~ Rollo imagine

Rollo Lothbrok x Fem!reader

Requested by Anonymous- Could you do something with Rollo?

Warning- fluff

—

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

“Mhmm, naturally. I don’t want to see you.”

You push yourself off the pillar and began to walk away from Rollo, only for him to follow after you, making you let out a fustrated sigh.

“Let me talk to you.” He says behind you, as he tried to keep up with you.

“I don’t wish to talk to you, Rollo,” you continue to walk faster to try and lose him behind you but he only quickens his own pace until he falls beside you. You hear him say something to you but you only ignore him—what you said was true, you didn’t wish to talk to him, especially not after what he did; to his people, brother and...you.

He never went back to Kattekat, he stayed in Frankia to peruse after people that hated him. He left you for fame and titles, and even if you never liked to admit it, he broke your heart. And now you are no fool to fall for his charms and good looks, again; you are stronger then that and have....gotten over him.

“Listen to me!” He shouts, pushing you to the nearest wall and keeping you there, making sure you won’t escape from his grasp; you stay still for a while, and take in his features, features that you’ve haven’t seen in years....but again you are no fool, he left you, so quickly you pull out your sword and threaten him.

“Touch me again and I will cut your manhood off before I cut your head off.” You hiss, pushing him off you, ignoring his chuckle as you stormed off finally getting rid of him, for now.

—

The raid was over and now you were heading back to Kattekat; but before you could get home you needed to pass by Frankia and drop the traitor off—he should be dead in your opinon, not being left back at his castle; but nobody listened, but if they asked, you’d want to kill him, and you would....probably.

“Let’s talk now.” The sound of his deep familiar voice makes you stand up but ultimately sit back down as their was nowhere to go on the ship, all you could do was turn your back to him and hope he would get that as a sign that you didn’t wish to talk to him, but he didn’t and continued talking to you. “You have a right to be mad at me, I understand that..” he pauses as if waiting for you to respond but all you do is respond with silence, making him shift in his seat next to you and continuing with what he was trying to say.

“...I’ve thought about you, I haven’t stopped—”

“Oh really? Because by you staying in Frankia and leaving me, it didn’t seem like it.” You inturrupt quickly, anger clear in your tone and the way you had spun around to face him. “I waited for you to return and you never did, that broke my heart, I’ll admit that to you and only you and I also admit that I hate you Rollo Lothbrok—”

“And I still love you Y/N”

Your breath hitches in your throat, and you feel as if you heart had been punctured by an arrow, you part your lips to retort but nothing seemed to come out, instead you turn your back to him again.

You were no fool...but those words he uttered still got the best of you, they made you feel weak and for the feelings you tried to kill away for him to show themselves. You wanted to hate him; but the truth is you never could as much as you did try.

“You’re married and have children, you can’t love me.” You finally say, still with your back turned to him.

“Yes, but my life is not there, it’s with you....I want to go back home, with you.” He speaks softly, placing a hand on your shoulder and moving it to your jaw to turn you to face him; letting you see the small smile on his lips and for your anger to be replaced with unshed tears.

You place your hand on top of his and look down at floor, swallowing back the tears you were holding in, before meeting his eyes again. “Than I suppose we’re both fools for still loving one another.”

[dollwritesarchive]

Anyways, send me Vikings requests. My muse for the ragnarssons is extremely high right now. Can be smut or angst or fluff or whatever :)

[bouncehousedemons]

Denial

Rating: E Pairing: Rollo x female character (second person, no use of y/n) Warnings: Angst, smut, enemies to lovers, mildly dubious consent Words: 1.6k

Summary: You and Rollo are no strangers to denial - denial of feelings, denial of compliance, denial of orgasms...

Written for @underragingwaves​

Read the full fic here.

[sifshoney-notactive]

Rollo and Gisla - Serie.

Fandom: Vikings

Pairing: Rollo x Gisla

Prompt: five times Rollo kissed Gisla, one time Gisla kissed Rollo.

Format: a serie of 6 short fanfictions.

Chapter I.

"The groom should kiss the spouse".

When Sinric translated the priest's words Rollo felt his heart sink. This wasn't how he had imagined his marriage, that morning. He was told she was indeed happy to marry him, and he was indeed happy too up until the ceremony.

He already felt strong feelings for her, feelings that he couldn't quite describe, but they were there. Since the day in the wall they were there, and they were stronger than any other feeling he had ever felt in his life.

Rollo looked at Gisla, her despair and her wet cheeks in neat contrast with the golden dress she was wearing. She looked glorious, and at the same time she looked miserable, and it was his fault.

He didn't want to disrespect her, but he felt pressured to do something, especially because the whole church was looking at them silently, waiting for something to happen. Gisla was waiting too, tears streaming down her cheek, expecting the worst to happen.

She didn't want to kiss him, it was clear, and he didn't want to kiss her unless she consented to. He was there because he loved her and wanted to care for her, but now he wasn't so sure if her father's interests matched his own, since he stood there among the crowd and did nothing.

He turned to Sinric and again to Gisla. Sighing, he tried to smile, taking her hand.

Gisla looked at him surprised, and the whole church's interest was raised. He held her hand for a moment, memorizing how soft it was, then he kissed the palm of his own hand and placed it on top of hers.

Everyone in the church was confused, Gisla more than anyone, so she turned to Sinric and asked explanation.

"What is the Northman doing?!"

Sinric didn't have an answer, so he looked at Rollo and said "you should kiss her, Rollo".

Rollo smiled, turned to him and answered with a simple "I did!"

Tagging: @therealcalicali @ceridwenofwales @seersaw @alicedopey