#ragnar fanfiction

[sabbqj]

Ragnar Lothbrok

Just did this today, hope u like it<3

[witchthewriter]

𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐀𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐑𝐚𝐠𝐧𝐚𝐫 𝐋𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐤

⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!  

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ    

𝑨 = 𝑨𝒇𝒇𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Ragnar is very affectionate. He’s like a dog - he likes to nuzzle his face in your neck or stomach. He loves when you play with his hair, or run your nails over his skin. Ragnar is a very touchy person. 

𝑩 = 𝑩𝒆𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒚 (What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?)

That you can put him in his place. When you lean your head against his shoulder. The colour of your eyes. Ragnar sees a lot of beauty in you. Some days you have to remind him that the sun doesn’t actually shine out of your ass. 

𝑪 = 𝑪𝒖𝒅𝒅𝒍𝒆𝒔 (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

HE LOVES TO CUDDLE. The most cuddly. But a very ... forgetful cuddler? Many times he’s forgotten that you’re in his arms and he’ll wake from a nightmare and accidentally throw you off the bed. 

𝑫 = 𝑫𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒄 (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

He’s a King, he doesn’t do his own cleaning, and doesn’t expect you to either. There’s no chance of Ragnar settling down, he does want kids. But he doesn’t want to stay in one place too long. It’s the adventurer in him. It’s his destiny to seek out the world. But there comes a time when all he wants to do is go home. 

𝑬 = 𝑬𝒎𝒐𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 (When something is bothering them, how do they act around you?)

Ragnar always tries to hide whatever is bothering him. He doesn’t want to weigh you down with the information. But you’ve spoken to him about keeping things hidden. You want to be involved in decisions and that means knowing the whole truth. Whenever he’s upset, or worried, his goofy nature dials back. 

𝑭 = 𝑭𝒊𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒆 (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Ragnar would be quick in wanting to be married. Although he doesn’t want to settle down in one place, he does want a wife (or many ... wives?) and have as many kids as possible. 

𝑮 = 𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒍𝒆 (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Ragnar is gentle with you. Not so much other people, his flimsy nature can put others in the firing line. But with you, he’s always gentle. Some days he forgets that words can hurt, and he may go too far. But so does everyone, he does apologise for it though. 

𝑯 = 𝑯𝒊𝒅𝒅𝒆𝒏 (Do they tell you about their childhood? Their trauma? The sides of themself that they keep hidden from the world.)

Ragnar says he’s an open book but getting the past out of him is difficult. Either he doesn’t like the way he’s acted in the past, or he has so much in his head that he forgets. Either way, you’ve had to nearly pull the information out of him. He’s very touchy about his mother though, and Rollo won’t even bring her up. 

𝑰 = 𝑰 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Very fast. Probably the third time he saw you in a romantic setting. He falls in love very quickly. 

𝑱 = 𝑱𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒚 (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Yes he does get jealous, but from afar. He won’t show you he’s jealous, especially if another man is showing you attention. But will act like you have another lover:

    “Oh, sorry. I thought you were busy tonight. With your new husband...”

𝑲 = 𝑲𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒔 (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Breathtaking. Overwhelming. Sudden. When he kisses you, you aren’t able to think of anything else. No other thoughts can enter your mind when Ragnar is kissing you. 

Ragnar likes to kiss your lips, but more so your neck. Sometimes it can be innocent, but more often than not it leads to something more. 

𝑳 = 𝑳𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒔 (How are they around children?)

Ragnar is great with children, as he has a childish side. The crazy stories that kids come up with never faze Ragnar, and he usually indulges them. 

“Ragnar! My mother turned into a giant this morning!” 

     “I know, I saw her hanging out the washing.” 

𝑴 = 𝑴𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 (How are mornings spent with them?)

Ragnar hates getting up. He’s always groaning about wanting five more minutes. But that usually turns into ten and then fifteen. You’ve tried pulling the blankets from him, but he fell asleep anyway. You’ve also tried pushing him out of bed but he just sleeps on the floor. You’re next experiment is pouring cold water on his head. 

𝑵 = 𝑵𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 (How are nights spent with them?)

The nights are usually for feasting, and then he wants to sit in front of the fire and have you tell him about your day. He doesn’t like not being involved in your life. 

𝑶 = 𝑶𝒑𝒆𝒏 (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

You’re still finding things out about Ragnar. It was very hard to separate fact from fiction, because the townspeople like to create stories about him and pass them off as truth. But you know Ragnar, and you told him that you will believe nothing until he tells you directly. 

𝑷 = 𝑷𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆 (How easily angered are they?)

Ragnar is only quick to anger when he’s insulted or someone has insulted you. Otherwise, he’s as cool as a fish in winter. Oh, or if he’s been mentally bested by an opponent. 

𝑸 = 𝑸𝒖𝒊𝒛𝒛𝒆𝒔 (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

You thought Ragnar forgot about many things. And sometimes he does, but he remembers the colour of your eyes, especially after a long time apart, and he remembers the first day you met. He remembers your birthday ... but only your birthday. Sometimes he forgets his own, and definitely forgets Rollo’s. 

𝑹 = 𝑹𝒆𝒎𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓 (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

The first time you got mad at him. You had picked up one of his shoes and threatened to throw it at him. He dared you. So you did. It was that moment that he was sure you could handle him. And he completely fell in love. 

𝑺 = 𝑺𝒆𝒄𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒚 (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Ragnar is very protective over you, but he knows you can handle yourself. He won’t be by your side all the time, but will keep an eye on you during battles. And if someone makes you uncomfortable, he’ll go up to them, wrap an arm around their shoulders and whisper in their eye to fuck off. 

𝑻 = 𝑻𝒓𝒚 (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

He doesn’t remember anniversaries, and I don’t think you do either. But he does go out of his way to make certain nights special. To make sure it’s only the two of you together, sitting in front of the fire, or out in the woods in the summertime. He does like to take you to these ethereal, almost magical places in nature. 

𝑼 = 𝑼𝒈𝒍𝒚 (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Will fart and burp without hesitation. And will go take a piss wherever he feels like it. Sometimes you think he may be part animal, maybe a dog. 

𝑽 = 𝑽𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒕𝒚 (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Historically speaking, Vikings were actually really hygenic. Much more than the Englishmen, or alternatively known as the Anglo-Saxons. Fiction writes that England was the progressive and most knowledgable society. But Vikings bathed way more often, brushed and washed their hair and ... generally cleaned themselves. 

So Ragnar follows those customs - his hair washed and braided, he always cleaned himself up, especially after battle. But in terms of vanity - when caring about how attractive he looks ... he doesn’t really care. He knows that he’s a good-looking man, but doesn’t spend his days looking in the mirror and preening over himself. 

𝑾 = 𝑾𝒉𝒚 (Reasons why they love each other)

Ragnar loves you because not only do you encourage him, but you’re by his side, wanting to experience everything with him. Ragnar adores your creativity and open-mind. You’re just as much of a dreamer as he is. 

𝑿 = 𝑿𝒚𝒍𝒐𝒑𝒉𝒐𝒏𝒆 (What’s their song)

Eris Steals The Book by Harry Gregson-Williams

𝒀 = 𝒀𝒖𝒄𝒌 (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Someone close-minded, who couldn’t or refused to think out of the box. Or someone who held him back, who didn’t believe in him and his dreams. 

𝒁 = 𝒁𝒛𝒛 (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)    

Talks in his sleep. Will have actual, long conversations while in slumber. At first, it would freak you out, but after a while, you got used to it. 

[kilojulietsierra]

In Good Hands (Ragnar Ragnarson x OFC)

Couldn’t help myself, had to do one more for my favorite Ragnar the Younger!

Warnings - 18+ content, mentions of death and violence, childhood sweethearts to lovers, first kiss, flirting, jealousy, naked cuddling, smut

~~~

Earl Ragnar watched his son further up the beach talking to Saga, the brown haired, green eyed daughter of one of his men. The younger Ragnar was smiling, which was often the case when he and Saga were together, but the girls smile was softer, sadder than normal. "We should take her with us." His wife appeared beside him. "This again?" Ragnar acknowledged his wife briefly before returning to readying the ship. "They are children." "Who is it that says every day how Ragnar is a man now, ready to be blooded in battle." She emphasizes the last part with a gruffer tone to mimic his own. When she receives nothing more than a disgruntled scoff she continues on, "Saga will be of marrying age soon." "She will." "And Ragnar certainly..." "Ragnar is sailing to fight, not to hump." Ragnar finally turns to face her fully. "Once we are settled, have our lands, her family will come soon enough. Then we will see. " ~~~ "Will you miss me?" She asked, smiling, but trying to hide the tinge of sadness inside. Young Ragnar smiled down at her, "Of course." He pauses and then adds, with mischief in his eyes, "Though not for long."   The remark earns him a hard shove to his chest though it doesn't budge him an inch. "You're a pigs ass." Ragnar laughs and catches her hands before she can assault him further, "I only mean... that your family will be soon behind us. Father has said so." She does not respond, face still indignant, but she also does not pull her wrists from his grip. "Ragnar!" His fathers voice booms down the beach, over the sound of the tide. "It is time!" Young Ragnar looked his fathers way and nods before turning back to Saga, his own smile softer now, less teasing. "Would you kiss me before I go?" Saga blinks up at him, considering, before turning her face to the side and presenting her cheek. Again Ragnar laughs, smile wider at her teasing, but all the same he drops a light kiss against the corner of her eye. He rested his lips there for a moment, "I will miss you." When he pulls back he can see that her eyes are misty, but she takes a deep breath and sets her face. Her hands come up to his jaw, his grip still gentle around her wrists, and she tugs him back down to her. "The next time I see you Ragnar Ragnarson, you will be a man." She kisses him, shy and sweet, on the lips and pulls back only enough to look him in the eye, "Now go, earn your reputation." Ragnar beams, moves his right hand to cup her cheek as gently as he could and rests his forehead against hers. Both of them closing their eyes and soaking in the moment, the damp air and the sound of the sea, the touch of eachother and the racing of young hearts. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Do you not have your own family to harass Ragnar Ragnarson?" Saga teased as young Ragnar trotted into camp on his big black horse and pulled up to a stop in front of her. "I can do that whenever I want." He tossed back at her with a grin as he swung down from the saddle. Saga shook her head as she patted the horse on his huge, blazed face. The war horse leaning into her gentle and familiar touch. "And my suffering is a special occasion?" Ragnar approached her, one hand resting on the steeds neck. "Very special." They stared at eachother for a moment smiling. Finally she broke the silence, "And what is your excuse this time?" "No excuse," Ragnar shook his head, "More ships are coming, I'm riding down the river to meet them." When Saga said nothing he continued, explaining his reasoning further, "Come with me." "Ragnar..." She looked around the farm, "Father will hang me from the rafters if I sneak away." "I'll ask him myself." His face was earnest, his voice sure. A reminder he was no longer the boy she had grown up with. "Really?" Saga seemed unconvinced, but an exciting little glint of hope lit within her. Ragnar merely winked and handed her the reins to his horse as he stepped past her, poking her in the side as he passed.   Still standing by the horse Saga occupied herself by undoing a fairy knot in the beasts mane, while she watched. Ragnar and her father speak for a moment. She noticed, for the first time, that her father now had to look up to speak to the younger man face to face. The little glint inside her grew, warming her from the inside out. When her father looked her way she held her breath and stood up straight, goosebumps rising on her arms upon her fathers nod. Young Ragnar was beaming as he approached, "C'mon then." "You'll have to help me saddle a horse." Saga reminded him but the look in his eyes and the smirk on his face caught her off guard. Not near so much as when he took hold of her waist and hoisted her up into the saddle. "Ragnar Ragnarson, what are you doing!?" She hissed at him. Mortified at what her father would do. Ragnar did not share her concern. He only grabbed the reins and a hand full of mane before swinging onto the horses back behind her. "I told you," Her breath caught in her chest as he settled in close against her back and wrapped his arms around her to take the reins, "Taking you to the river to watch the ships come in." She had thought for certain her father would drag him down from his horse as they walked past, but much to her  surprise he only hid a small smile and patted the horse on the rump as they walked by. ~~~ Her cheeks hurt from smiling as they ran across an open clearing on the other side of the woods. The horse had a smooth and comfortable gait, Ragnar was a solid presence behind her. His right arm held her tight around the middle and she could feel as much as hear him laughing behind her. At the top of a rise he pulled the horse to a stop. Even though they had stopped his arm still kept her held tight. Ragnars voice was clear, cheerful, if a little breathless from the laughter. "There they are. See them?" He lifted his right hand to point to the string of ships rowing their way up the river but he immediately curled his arm back around her again. "There's more than a dozen." Saga said, not expecting so many. "And more will come. Always more." He spoke so close to her ear it made her shiver and Ragnar chuckled, holding her tighter and pressing his nose into her hair. "Are you cold girl?" His lips brushed against her ear and she shivered again, "Or ticklish?" He dug his fingers into her side and squeezed, causing her to flinch and shy away from him with a gasp. She flinched so much the horse had to shift his weight, but Ragnar did not cease until she was bent over the horses neck, swatting at his hand, yelling for him to stop between fits of uncontrollable laughter. Taking mercy on her he stopped his attack, his own laughter full and loud as he pulled her back up to sit, leaning her against his chest. Laughter still in his voice he pressed his lips to the crown of her head. Saga shivered again, but this time rather than teasing Ragnar simply held her tighter and looked back to the ships. His voice low, "I remember when you and your family arrived, with the rest of fathers ships." He paused, smiling to himself when he felt her lean further into him, her hand moving to cover his, lacing their fingers together. He smiled wide and pressed another kiss behind her ear, "I came to this spot every day until I caught sight of the ships." "Don't pretend you were waiting only for me." Finally with her wits returned she snarked back at him. The smile in his voice evident he defended himself, "Believe what you want, but I was happy to see you." Her hand squeezed his as she stared at the ships creeping closer and closer, "You'll have ships of your own soon." " I will." Ragnar agreed. "Would you come to the water and see me off? Kiss me goodbye again?" "Would you come back to me again, if I did?" Her voice was solemn now, and quiet. Ragnar did not hesitate. "If that's what the fates have decided," He paused, took a moment to enjoy the feel of her in his arms, "And I believe it is." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Saga!" Saga turned and saw the boy approaching her. She smiled," Jonas, what are you doing here?" She stood up from the work she was doing and smiled. "My sister said she saw you collecting walnuts the other morning, I know you enjoy them so I brought you these." He held up a small sack, "They've already been dried and soaked." With a smile Saga climbed up the creek bank to approach him, "That's very thoughtful Jonas. Will you sit and have some with me?" He beamed, "I would like that." The two of them sat on a rock overlooking the creek snacking on what nuts they could open. Jonas sat on one side of the boulder with a smaller stone in his hand so that he could smash the hard hulls open. "Will your family be there tonight? The feast to celebrate young Ragnar before he and his men leave for Irland?" Saga asked as she picked the meat of a nut out of the crumbled shell. Jonas paused, a particularly hard shell sitting on the boulder between them, "Yes, we will be there. I will get to see you twice in one day." He gave her a shy smile. Saga laughed, "How unfortunate for you, I hope that does not ruin the fun for you." Wiping her skirt off she stood up and closed the sack of walnuts. "I should be getting home, but thank you again for these. I will see you tonight." Jonas watched after her as she headed down the long trail towards her family s farm. Thinking about seeing her at the feast again that night brought a smile to his face. With two more hard hits of the stone in his hand he was finally able to crack open the last shell. Still smiling, thinking of Saga, he popped the nut in his mouth and headed back towards his families own farm. ~~~ The hall was full to bursting and so loud Saga could barely hear herself think. She was glad she had found a spot close to the fire but behind Earl Ragnar and some of the other men where they were retelling stories of their own younger days. Young Ragnar, whom the celebration was for, was sitting across the fire from her and next to his Grandfather. He was watching her where she sat, trying her best to crack more walnuts open with the blunt handle of a knife with little to no luck. She was about to give up on her treat all together when she happened to glance up and see young Ragnar watching her. He smiled, then leaned in close to hear something Ravn had said to him. Ragnar listened and then looked back to her, smiling to see she was still watching and then he turned to speak into his Grandfathers ear. A moment later the older man was smiling and patting his grandson on the arm and then Ragnar stood up and moved through the crowd to join her on the opposite side. "Still eating? Is the feast not enough for you?" He teased as he came close. Patting the young man next to her roughly on the shoulder, a wordless order to move. As a response Saga kicked out with her foot and caught Ragnar in the shin. Hard enough to make him grimace but also laugh as he plopped down next to her. "It would be a shame for me to have to kill you at your own party." Ragnar laughed more as he got comfortable, "Now why would you do that?" He watched with mirth in his eyes as she attempted to bludgeon open one of the nuts. "For calling me fat!" "I did no such thing." He moved to drape his arm around her shoulders, "What is this you're trying to do?" Not waiting for the answer he took the blade from her hands and stuck it in the wall behind them. "Trying to open these stubborn things." She scowled at him as he took her blade. "Here, let me see." Ragnar reached across her lap to grab a handful from the small sack beside her. With a smile, like he was about to tell her secret, he leaned in close and dropped all but two in her lap. Holding the two in his one hand he closed his fist around them and watched her eyes snap open, as the shells crunched. When he opened his fist the two shells were nothing but crumbles and the walnuts within were revealed. Ragnar watched as she plucked the walnuts from his hand, grinning at how careful she was to avoid touching his hand. Tossing the shells into the fire he reached for two more and again, cracked them open in his one bare hand. This time however he popped the walnuts into his own mouth. "Hey!" She swatted at him, "They're mine!" "I'm the one doing all the work." He ignored the smack to his chest and grabbed two more to crack. Unable to stop smiling, watching Saga reach for her cup of ale, Ragnar held his hand out flat, offered it to her and waited for her to reach for them only to snap his fingers closed and refuse her. "Ragnar Ragnarson, I swear! You could teach a donkey a thing or two about being an ass!" She shoved her shoulder into him hard but he took it in stride, only tightening the arm around her shoulders to tug her closer. "Now that's not nice." He chuckled, pressing his forehead into the side of hers, "Here", he lifted his hand, but pulled it away when she reached for it. Shaking his head his whispered in her ear, "Let me." Her eyes shot open wide and a flush crept to her cheeks, only made worse by his next words. "Open your mouth." Suddenly out of her depths and her heart racing Saga wasn't sure how to respond and so, she did the only thing she could think to do. Do as she was told. So, she opened her mouth the tiniest bit and her heart caught in her throat as Ragnar carefully placed the treat in her mouth. As she began to chew she heard him chuckle but this time it wasn't teasing. Based on the look on his face and the low rumble behind the quiet laughter, Ragnar was pleased. With his left hand toying with her hair he pointed to the sack of goodies with the other, "Grab a couple. You try." "Very funny." Saga brushed some shells to the floor, ignoring him. "I'm serious, there's a trick to it, I'll show you." "Oh there's a trick to it..." Saga rolled her eyes, "I thought you were just that strong." A sharp, quick tug to her hair had her giggling, remembering all the times he had done that as a boy. "Stop teasing, do as I say." He grunted out a huff of air as her elbow connected with his ribs but still he laughed, watching as she placed two walnuts in the palm of her hand. "Now, use one to crack the other." Helping her he placed them a certain way and then told her to squeeze her hand tight. She squeezed and squeezed to no avail. Beside her Ragnar was chuckling, egging her on. "Harder! Harder! Don't weaken!" Finally taking pity on her he wrapped his hand around hers, nearly covering it completely, and helped her. Squeezing carefully but with enough force for the shells to shatter. Saga laughed as they both opened their hands, "Victory!" Ragnar laughed into his cup of ale as he watched her pick out the pieces to eat, "They put up a good fight." He watched, arching his brow as her face changed before him. Then very slowly, as if doubting herself, she raised one up to his mouth, "Open." Ragnar felt a bolt of lighting shoot down his spine and his left hand grabbed a firm hold of her shoulder. Only hesitating a moment he opened his mouth and watched as her fingers came closer, only to stop a breath away and quickly retreat to place the walnut on her own tongue, where it lingered long enough to taunt him before disappearing behind her lips. He laughed out loud, "You little shit." his right hand reaching to grab hers and stop her from stealing the last of them. They struggled for a moment, both tugging and pulling, both becoming breathless with laughter. As he finally won the wrestling match. Saga relinquished and placed the last walnut in his waiting mouth, shivering when his lips brushed over the tips of her fingers. Together they settled down, their breath calming but their eyes on fire and staring at each other. Ragnar pulled her closer, but it was Saga that broke the tension. Her voice soft and uncertain, "It's going to be so long before I see you again..." She let her hand move to hold his forearm for comfort, "What if you don't remember me? What if you forget about me and moments like this?" In an instant his face becomes serious, his eyes soften, "Never." He cups her face gently and holds her gaze, "I'll think of you every night when I close my eyes. I know I will." Slowly, his eyes watched hers closely as he leaned forward, brushing his lips over hers once. Then a second time, both of them more sure,  and Ragnars eyes fell closed as Saga relaxed deeper into his arms. His hand still held her cheek, he stroked his thumb over her brow. Saga leaned into his touch, eyes fluttering closed as she breathed in deep, "What if I am married while you are gone?" Ragnar’s jaw clenched, his eyes slid closed for a moment as he copied her deep breath. When he opened his eyes and held her gaze his voice was honest and his hold on her firm, "Then I hope he takes care of you, treats you well until I return and can have you for myself." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Earl Ragnar, as he was now known after the death of his father, sat at the head of the hall with the others. A celebration for the arrival of more men for the Dane army. Ragnar sat and drank and joked with the others but could not quite feel lighthearted enough to really join in. A new group entered the hall and one of them caught his attention. "Excuse me boys." He hefted himself out of his seat and worked his way through the hall to the man he recognized. "Ragnar!" The older man welcomed him with open arms and a strong hug. They embraced each other. "Look at you, a man and a warrior to make your father proud." He patted him on both shoulders, "It is a pleasure to see you Lord. You have my sword, and all my men. We are glad to see you returned. Glad to serve the Earl Ragnar." "And you friend. I am happy to see you as I'm happy to have you with me. As you were with my Father." Ragnar truly was happy to see his fathers man, but almost immediately his mind wandered to Saga. Her father must have noticed something cross Ragnar’s face because he smiled, "Saga will be pleased to see you returned as well. " Ragnar blinked, his back straightened, "Saga, she is here?" Her father smiled, and motioned across the hall. "She is there." She was there. On the far side of the hall among a group of men and women laughing and drinking. He could see well enough to know it was her, but one thing stood out to him clearly. "She wears her hair down." "Her husband was lost, last spring." When Ragnar turned to face the elder man, there must of been something in his eyes that belied his questions, "Go to her Ragnar, she will be glad to see you." Ragnar paused a moment looking from Saga to her father. He embraced him tightly once more and began to wade his way through the crowd. Saga did not see him approach until he was nearly in front of her. Immediately her face fell in shock. "Ragnar?" She looked him up and down, "Gods it is you!" She nearly threw herself at him and he caught her easily and with a smile. Wrapping his arms around her tightly and lifting her two feet off the ground. He held her there, her arms around his neck and their temples pressed together. "I have missed that smile." Ragnar told her. Then squeezing her tighter he whispered to her, "I've missed you." She sighed happily as he set her down, keeping her close. "I've missed you, and your hugs." Ragnar squeezed her tightly once more, grinning as she reached up to hold his face in her hands. "Look at you." She gazed up at him smiling, her thumb smoothing over the new ink adorning his brow. "You approve?" He released her, only to hold her chin between his thumb and forefinger, his smirk tilting up in one corner. Saga laughed, "I do." She continue to smile up at him. Ragnar looked her over, taking in the sight of her for the first time in years. "Come, sit with me." He took her hand in his and pulled her towards the front of the hall towards his seat. Not even waiting for her protest though one did not come. At least until they come close to the lords table, taken over by the leaders of the Danes. She tugged at his hand, pulling him to a stop, "Ragnar, wait." He turned to face her, confused, "What's wrong?" "Are you sure this is..." "Have you mourned your man?" He interrupted her, stepping in close to her. When she nodded he continued, "Have you taken another?" She shook her head.  "Do you still think of me as you did when we were younger?" Her slight blush gave him his answer but he waited for her nod. "Then let them see. You are my woman, and I am your man." He looked her over intently, "If that is what you still want." He waited patiently and was pleasantly surprised when she tightened her grip on his hand and this time pulling him along. Ragnar smiled and caught up to her pulling her close, his hands on her waist and spoke in her ear, "There she is." His comment earned him an elbow in the ribs and he laughed. At the table Saga turned to look for a chair but before she could find one she found herself instead pulled down into Ragnars lap. His hold on her strong, his body against hers solid, but she was comfortable and happy. When he would kiss her it was somehow both, like they had not seen each other in years and like they had never parted. Each time he would look up at her, pleased she was there, in his arms where she belonged once again. ~~~ Saga released a deep sigh and felt herself sink further into the bed, the furs and into Ragnar’s warmth. Ragnar was resting back against the headboard of the bed and a stack of pillows, Saga laid against him, her back to his chest and her head on his shoulder.  His sword hand lay around her shoulders and against her bare chest. Her fingers fiddling with his. "What are you thinking?" Ragnar asked softly. "For a man with so many muscles you are very soft and comfortable." Saga teased   In retaliation Ragnar reached to tweak a nipple between the rough pads of his fingers. When Saga squealed and shied away form his touch he laughed and pulled her tighter against him. "Tell me what you're really thinking." When she turned over to face him her smile was soft and so he softened his grip on her. Stroking his hand up and down her naked back. She enjoyed the feel of it for a moment, her eyes closed.  When she opened them again Ragnar was looking upon her with a smile and the fire reflecting in his eyes. Saga smiled and crawled up so they were face to face, "I am glad the Gods brought you back to me." Ragnar pulled her in for a kiss, loving the feel of her naked body against his, "I knew they would." With another content sigh she laid her head on his chest and rested her hand over the ink there. "You know what else I was thinking about?" "Hmm?" His hand settled low on her waist and he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "It's silly." "Tell me." "Do you remember? The last night we were together? Before you left for Irland." "I do. You let me sit with you by the fire, hold you, kiss you." His hand began to stroke her side and then out of nowhere he chuckled, "I was cracking open walnuts for you. I was worried you were going to cut a finger off trying to break them open with a  knife." He laughed again, and it rumbled in his chest. Saga laughed with him, "You want to know something funny?" "Hmm?" "Do you remember Jonas? The boy that lived down the creek from my family?" "Vaguely. The odd, skinny one?" "Yes," She laughed, almost a giggle. "Those walnuts were a gift from him." She felt Ragnar twist his head to look at her. Then he burst out laughing, loudly. "What?" "That little shit." He laughed again, pulling her closer, "He spent that whole night glaring at me and now I finally know why." While Ragnar was still laughing Saga added, "We sat by the creek for awhile and ate some together. He had to crack them open with a rock." Ragnar laughed even harder, "No wonder it looked like he would've like to kill me." He moved, rolling so she was beneath him, while he continued to chuckle. "I thought of that night often," Ragnar paused to reach for Saga's face, tracing a finger over her full bottom lip, "The look on your face when I told you to open your mouth so I could feed you." His eyes darkened and he groaned as if in appreciation. "You looked so sweet and shy." Saga rolled her eyes, reaching one arm up to wrap around his neck and with the other she stroked her own thumb over his bottom lip. He watched her intently, still a soft smile on his face, even as his eyes darkened, "Now look at you." Ragnar slid his rough, worn hand over her throat and breast, down her flat stomach and between her legs. For a long, silent moment they stared at each other, the only sounds the crack of the fire and the occasional breathy hum from one or the other of them as Ragnar played with the wetness of her cunt. The mess they'd already made together remained and made her entrance even slicker than before. Ragnar could not help the throaty growl of satisfaction as he entered again. Hearing her moan as his thick cock slid home and feeling her tugging him down to her by his beard. "You are so much more than I even could dream," He murmured against her lips, growling again as his praise sent her arching up against him, "When the winds were cold and the ground was hard," He began a steady pace, each stroke making sure to reach as deep within her as he could. "I would take my cock in my hand and think of you." Ragnar thrust harder and Saga moaned, hands scrabbling at his back. "I would think of you, soft and warm beneath me," He paused to catch her eye and grinned, "Smirking up at me just like that." When Ragnar nipped at her bottom lip, and they smiled against eachothers kiss. "Now you have me." She whispered between breathy gasps. "I'm yours Ragnar, you have me." At her words Ragnar could not help but groan and crash his lips down on hers, dropping the whole of his weight onto her as he fucked into the mattress, "And I will not let you go," His voice was becoming strained with the effort, both of them panting as she wrapped her legs around him and he clawed at her thigh, "Never again Saga, I'll never let you go again." ~~~

[vikingsmasterlist]

Rootless Tree (Prequel to Memories)

(Ragnar.Ivar.OFC)

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[skolworthy]

Time Knows No Bounds - Part Five

Warnings: Finally, the sexual tension you have been waiting for! Some NSFW parts are present, so please read responsibly and don't get caught. ;)

Info: When the font is like this, it means Ragnar is speaking in his native tongue. When he is speaking English it will just be italicized. The reader's text is just normal and anyone other than Ragnar or the reader will be in bold.

Spoilers: None, because this is completely my creation (apart from the character/legend of Ragnar Lothbrok and other historical names) it has nothing to really do with the tv series.

Plot: Ragnar, in this series, is unattached to anyone romantically. No Lagertha or Aslaug or any other baby momma's out there. No children. He has met and learned with Athelstan, because that contributes to his ability to speak with the reader. Other than that, he's just a simple gorgeous viking that lives on his farm in Kattegat, dreaming of adventure.

Summary: This will be in Ragnar's POV again. -A rude interruption leads to your freedom from the utility closet, but will the opportunity to get this close ever present itself again? Time will only tell.

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Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four

It seemed that there was destined to be an interruption at every time that he attempted to get closer to y/n. First the 'phone' that she had in her pocket back in the bedroom she had given him, chiming when the two of them had just started to lean into one another. Now to the door flying open when he had actually began to make contact with her lips. Those lips that had long been on his mind from the moment she first gave him a smirk back at him in return to his. Ragnar had been enthralled with y/n from the moment his eyes landed upon her after arriving to this time period, even more so than the advanced world around him. Y/n was by far the most breathtaking woman he had ever seen and her sassy personality and humor caused him to grow even more attracted to her as the hours flew by. What really drew him to her, was her sense of nobility: she was willing to do what she could to help him even though she had no real reason to. She could have left him there and been on her way and who knew what sort of trouble he would have found himself in. Ragnar was quite good at getting himself into trouble, and being here alone, he had no one to get him out of it. Yet y/n was adamant in helping him to fit in, and learn the way of things in this time, while also doing what she could to figure out just how he got there and how he could get back. Perhaps it was a good thing that they had been interrupted from their kiss? If he was to end up going home one day...would it not be better to avoid the temptation that y/n presented? Ragnar knew that it was silly to believe this, for they had just met, but he knew that it was only a matter of time before he ended up falling madly in love with her.

The small balding man from earlier was standing there with raised eyebrows, though the two of you had pulled apart quickly when the door had opened. The look in the man's eye told them that he had still seen their close proximity and their flushed faces no doubt gave away what had been about to happen. Y/n began to explain the situation and the man just smiled and held up his hand. "No need for explanation, this is honestly the most tame thing I have come across when opening this door." he said, as his eyes cast elsewhere, a vacant and disturbed expression on his face. "I will have maintenance fix it tonight during their shift, mark my words. It's only a matter of time before I end up getting myself locked in here and I can tell you, no one would come looking for the boss." he said with a chuckle. Y/n gave a small smile and then glanced at Ragnar before she grabbed the broom and headed out, to which he followed after her, giving a nod of thanks to the man, even though he was not 100% thankful for the interruption. He followed her back to the exhibit where he watched y/n begin to sweep up the little bits of paper, pottery and other things that were scattered across the floor. He watched her silently for a moment before he began to open his mouth to say something, but she stopped him by handing him the broom. "I need to go and find the dust pan, can you finish up for me?" she asked with a small smile on her lips. How could he say no? He gave a nod of his head and then watched her walk away, his eyes slowly roaming down her body to her backside before he sighed and looked down at the bits that still needed to be swept into a pile.

When she came back they helped one another finish sweeping and dumping the dust pan into the trash before finally they were finished and the exhibit, hopefully, looked good as new. He watched as she went around one final time to each part of the exhibit and adjusted it slightly, before she finally gave a nod and came back over to him. "That's better." she said. Ragnar smirked at her and then set the broom down against the wall. "What is next?" Y/n smirked back at him and then said that they were free to do whatever for the day, since it was still technically her day off. "This is a whole new world for you, what would you like to do?" Ragnar's mind thought back to the moment in the closet, where he had y/n pressed up against the wall with his body, his lips so close to capturing hers as he had been longing for. Yeah, there was no denying that that was what he wanted to explore right now. Yet as he looked at y/n as she stood there smiling at him with a tilted head, the way that the sunlight from the skylights above danced across her hair and lit up her eyes some, he knew that there was something more he wanted. He gestured for them to head out of the museum and as they did, his eyes searching around him at the vast city and all of its massive structures of metal and brick and...noise. So. Much. Noise. Ragnar suddenly felt overwhelmed and he rubbed the back of his neck uneasily before he felt y/n place a gentle hand on his shoulder and he looked down at her. He gave a smile and then slid his hands into the pockets of his pants...er...jeans, he believed she called them? "What is your most favorite place to go in the city?" he asked. "That is what I would like to see." he said, his smile forming into his trademark smirk.

This seemed to take y/n by surprise, her eyebrows lifting to the heaven's ever so slightly before coming back down and a smile played upon her lips. "Oh." she said before she pursed her lips and thought for a moment. "Alright, but we will need to grab some provisions first." she said, which altogether confused him. Provisions for what? She lifted her finger and wagged it in motion for him to follow her, he did not hesitate. They soon found themselves back inside her home, where he watched as she went to the kitchen and began to rummage around in the refrigerator, setting things onto the counter before diving back in again. "What are you doing?" Ragnar asked as he finally began to make his way toward the kitchen. "Do me a favor and go grab that blanket that's on the back of the couch." She said while still halfway within the box. He paused, his eyes scanning the room until they caught sight of the large blanket that was draped over the dark blue three cushioned piece of furniture and he picked it up, folding it a bit. He brought it into the kitchen and stood there as she began to put together some sort of food, that contained meat, cheese, lettuce, tomato and placed between two slices of bread. Huh. Ragnar leaned forward some, looking over her shoulder as she cut them in half and placed the pieces into a container and closed the lid. Then she grabbed a bottle of something yellow and a jar of something white, to which she placed it within a large basket. She then grabbed some bottles of water and put them inside as well, along with plates that appeared to be made out of paper and some cutlery too and then she stood there thinking for a moment before she turned and looked at him. "I think that is all we will need." "For what?" "You'll see." He groaned, letting his head fall back a bit as he did and she chuckled, hoisting the basket to him for him to carry and he lifted his head back up, stared down at her silently before pursing his lips and taking the basket from her. "Fine."

Once again he found himself within one of those so called 'cars' and they were on their way to wherever y/n had planned on taking him. The trip did not take as long as he had thought it would, still, he was just as mesmerized by the surroundings they passed as he was the first time he had been in a 'car'. They came down a path that wound a little way, trees on either side in neat rows, flowers at full bloom within their thick foliage. Ragnar leaned closer to the window in hopes of seeing exactly where they were going until the car then came to a stop and he blinked, turning to look over at y/n as she began to open the door. "We will have to walk from here." she said with a smile, a dimple forming at the corner of her mouth that he had not noticed before but oh how he was enamored by it. He swatted her hand away from the basket when she reached for it as it sat between them, taking it in his own hand and gave her a smirk as he exited the car and walked around to where she stood waiting for him. He followed after her as they continued on to a smaller path that branched off from where the car had left them and he couldn't help but let his gaze wander from his surroundings, to roaming up and down y/n's body slowly as she walked ahead of him. From the way that her hair blew slightly in the breeze causing it to dance around her shoulders, to the way that her hips would sway as she walked. Ragnar's eyes couldn't keep from focusing on her backside longer than what was probably appropriate, but he just simply could not help himself. When she turned to look at him over her shoulder, his eyes quickly averted elsewhere before she could catch on, though when she looked back ahead, his eyes would trail right back and a smirk would form on his face.

They finally stepped off of the pathway that she had been leading them down and began a climb uphill until they reached the very top, where she then took the blanket from on top of the basket and threw it outward, allowing it to settle upon the grass. Then she lowered herself down to smooth it out, then she took the basket from his hand and set it off to the side of the blanket before standing back up. Ragnar had been about to sit down upon the blanket, thinking that was what she was aiming to do as well, but she had stopped him with a hand to his shoulder and gestured for him to look in a direction off ahead of them. He turned his gaze and she smiled at his reaction as his mouth parted ever so slightly at the sight of their view. Vast gardens and mazes lined the way below them, colorful blooms of almost every shade all intricately positioned within the maze and walkways. What truly caused Ragnar's mouth to part was the castle that was at the end of the mazes and gardens, perfectly placed like it had hopped off of the pages of a storybook. "Rosenborg Castle and gardens. One of my most favorite places." she said softly as she stood a little closer to him, tilting her head a bit as she looked up at him and then out toward the scenery. "With my love for history, this place never disappoints to fill my head with wonder." Y/n gave a soft sigh and Ragnar finally turned and looked down at her, a smile upon his face instead of his trademark smirk. "It is...quite amazing. There are not many castles back home." He lowered himself down to the blanket as she did, bringing his knees up and letting his arms drape over them lazily as he watched her begin to fish out the items from within her basket and set them out upon the blanket. "What do you call all of...this?" he said, gesturing before him at all of the food, plates, bottles of water and other things. Y/n smiled and opened the container and pulled out the bread with meat and cheese between it and set it upon a plate, handing it to him. "A picnic. That's a sandwich." she added, when he opened his mouth and pointed at the unfamiliar food item before him. His eyes lifted to hers for a moment, his eyebrow raising ever so slightly in question and he began to open his mouth once more. "No, not that kind of witch." Again, beating him to the punch.

Ragnar eyed the sandwich with suspicion at first, then watched as y/n pulled out the jar of white stuff and the bottle of yellow and pointed them to the sandwich. "Lift the bread up and I will add some of both. Mustard. Mayonnaise." she said, holding up each of the items as she named them and he just stared at them before finally doing as she said. "Something the vikings didn't get to experience. A world of flavorful food." she said, clicking her tongue in sadness. When she was finished applying the mustard and mayonnaise, Ragnar let the bread fall back down and then brought the sandwich up to his mouth and bit into it. The moment everything hit his tongue, he paused and his eyes drifted to the basket that sat behind y/n. "Is...there more in there?" he asked, after having swallowed the bite he had in his mouth. Y/n chuckled and nodded, stating she had packed several sandwiches. She then pulled out a small and rather noisy bag and he watched as she opened it, leaning forward and looking into the back as she then pulled out a flat piece of..something, and then popped it in her mouth and he could hear the sound of her crunching it. He raised an eyebrow as she continued to crunch on that piece, from what he had seen it did not look at all hard, but yet the sound was quite...loud. He smirked and then she allowed him to grab one from the bag as well and when he placed it within his mouth, he was blown away from the flavor and when he bit down on it, it would have startled him with how crunchy it was, had he not already known from overhearing y/n earlier. "What is this thing?" he asked, still crunching which made her laugh out loud. "It's called a potato chip and there are so many flavors out there." This intrigued him greatly, the fact that this delicious and crunchy form of heaven was made out of a potato and he then asked y/n exactly how they were made and what these other flavors would be. The fact that the list of flavors went on, and he literally had no idea what more than half of them were, blew his mind though she did promise to help him form a quest to try every flavor possible.

Eventually all of the food was gone and now the two of them were left with just sitting upon the quilt she had brought and watching the shadows grow longer as the day grew ever onward. Y/n told Ragnar the history of the castle that was before them as they sat upon the hill and watched people come and go across the grounds before them. How they would venture inside of it and y/n explained how it was open to the public, everyone able to tour the palace and all of its wonders. This intrigued Ragnar greatly, especially the fact that people could just waltz into the castle like that and this caused y/n to laugh. "Well, there are not that many monarchies still around anymore and even then, their power is nothing like it once was. The average person has more power these days than royalty, honestly. Governments were created, people can vote and choose how they want things to be. It's a very different world now." she said as she leaned back on her hands, her legs stretched out before her as she looked at the castle while the sun cast down upon it in a way that made it almost look like it was glowing. Ragnar glanced over at her, not being able to help himself from doing so, his own hands holding him upright as he leaned back upon them as well. He took in just how she was looking at the castle and the grounds that lay out before them, how her eyes showed just how much she admired the history that she knew, the architecture that the castle boasted even after the centuries that it had been standing there. His chest swelled a little as he gazed at her, the way the light would dance across her face as sun hit against the surface of the small lake that was in front of the castle. He finally cleared his throat and looked away for a moment. "Why are you helping me?" he asked finally after a few minutes of silence.

Y/n was silent for awhile after that question, but as he watched, he could see her face showing signs of deep thought. "Because there is a reason behind all of this happening: you suddenly coming into the future and us meeting." she paused for a moment and then looked over at him. "I want to know what that reason is." Their eyes locked for a moment, Ragnar's heart suddenly skipping at beat just from that and then y/n smirked at him. "Plus, you seem like a trouble maker. Someone's gotta keep an eye on you." At this point, Ragnar could not help himself. He leaned toward her, his left hand reaching up and placing itself against the back of her neck gently and with it he brought her toward him. The soft gasp she gave in response silencing as his mouth captured it, his lips softly pressing against hers at first before they began to guide hers in a subtly sensual dance. He could feel her hesitation in the beginning, from the way her body went stiff but after a few moments he felt her relax, give in and she began to move her lips against his as well. The sensation of her lips moving against his caused that low burning heat he had within his lower stomach to engulf into a raging inferno, escalating as her hand made its' way to the side of his face and cupped it for a moment before moving behind his head, to the back of his neck, her fingers digging slightly into the base of his hairline. Ragnar continued the kiss, slowly deepening it as he then moved his body closer to hers and began to maneuver her downward toward the blanket they were seated upon, his hand cradling her neck to guide the way. He moved so that way he was somewhat on top of her, his lips dancing against hers until they began to venture along her jawline and behind her ear, his mind and body reeling from the soft sounds of agreement that came from her mouth as he did.

The hand that he had been using to keep himself from putting all of his weight upon her, slid around her waist and then began to travel toward one of her breasts when suddenly he felt her hand catch hold of his wrist, stopping his movement. Ragnar paused and then slowly pulled his face away slightly, looking down at her with a raised eyebrow. "We should stop before someone sees." she said, which caused him to lift his had further and scan the area with his eyes before looking back down at her. "No one is watching." he said with a smirk, starting to lean back down toward her mouth, but she put a hand against his chest, once again stopping him. Y/n gave a soft chuckle and began to sit up, pushing him upward as well with the hand that was upon his chest. "I'm sure where you are from, people just fuck in the middle of the village and no one spares a passing glance, but here it is quite different. We don't need to end up in jail." Now sitting up, she began to pack up the items around her and put them into the basket. "Perhaps it's time to head back home?" she said, her eyes lifting to meet his. Ragnar quickly stood up and began to carefully roll up the blanket as she gave a soft laugh and moved from on top of it so that he could place it into the basket as well. Soon a taxi was hailed and the two of them were riding along in silence that was so thick that the tension could be cut with a knife. Glances were stolen. Lips were chewed upon slightly. Ragnar's knee was bouncing uncontrollably as he let hand rest there, fingers gripping into his flesh, his mind imagining that his hand was kneading one of those impressive mounds she had for breasts. Could this taxi possibly move any slower?

Finally back at y/n's apartment, they worked together to put away any left overs and other items before y/n stated that she was going to take a shower and Ragnar gave a nod, figuring that he would just lie down upon his bed since he still did not really understand how to work the 'TV'. He followed after her down the hallway and as he did, he couldn't help but let his eyes wander over her as she was before him. The way her back curved, down to that luscious backside...the feelings from earlier began to swell back up within him with a vengeance. Ragnar's pace quickened by a few steps and he then took hold of y/n's waist and turned her toward him suddenly. He moved her against the wall, pushing her up against it as he leaned down and claimed her lips with his once again. Any gasps or noise she may have made in reaction to this sudden movement was swallowed down by Ragnar as he pressed himself against her, his hands sliding down her sides and squeezing lightly. Y/n gave a soft moan against his mouth and this caused him to give a bit of a growl as he then moved his lips to her neck, one of his hands sliding down to cup against her bottom and giving it a hardy squeeze. Ragnar felt her fingers curl a bit into his hair and grip hard, which made him suddenly move his hand from her bottom down to that thigh and he lifted her leg up and wrapped it around his hip as he pressed his growing excitement against her. When he felt her grind against him slightly, Ragnar all but lost control and began to bite and suck against the skin of her collarbone as he used his other hand to move up under her shirt and cupped one of her breasts, giving it a firm squeeze after. Y/n's hand took hold of his braid and pulled his head back up to where she began to kiss him fervently, her tongue even darting across his bottom lip. Ragnar groaned, pressing himself more against her as his body pinned her against the wall, giving his hips a roll while holding there and then grinning against her mouth when she let out an involuntary moan. He then removed his hand from under her shirt and slid it behind her to where he cupped her other thigh and brought it up around his hip as well. He held her like that for a moment against the wall, devouring her lips, biting and sucking against that bottom lip of hers until he then moved away from the wall, carrying her down the hallway and through the doorway of his room.

Their lips never parted as he carried her, not even as he came over to the bed and lowered her down onto it, moving to hover over her. Ragnar took the time to lift her shirt up and over her head, letting his eyes roam over her flawless skin, his eyes hesitating on the odd looking bodice that was clasped around her perfect breasts (he made a mental note to ask about this later). He then began to kiss down the side of her neck, letting his lips dance across her collarbone once more before he moved them further down until he came to the tops of her breasts. He placed light kisses there at first...then he began to lick, moving the piece of fabric that kept her sensitive bud hidden from him. Once it was revealed, he took it into his mouth gently and sucked on it lightly, his eyes lifting toward y/n's face as she gasped. Her back arched upward from the bed and he let one of his arms wrap around her waist to keep her in that position as he then let his other hand begin to slide down the front of her pants, now that there was room with the angle she was in. Ragnar moaned against her skin as he swirled his tongue around her nipple, sucking and gently biting down as his fingers descended toward his objective. His index finger had just brushed against her ready clit when the sound of numerous chimes echoed around them. He paused, lifting his eyes toward her as she gave a groan. "Someone's at the door." she said, breathless. He felt her body begin to tense with the movement of trying to sit herself up, but he held her down with his palm against her pelvic bone and his mouth quickly moving to the other breast as his hand moved away the fabric from that nipple as well. She gasped, arching upward again and gave quick and eager attention to this breast for a moment before lifting his face up some and looking at her. "They can come back another day." he said with smirk, before he began to move his fingers back to her clit...when the chiming began again, this time more frequently. Ragnar gave a loud groan and let his forehead rest against her chest for a moment, before he felt her hand gently begin to push against his chest and he reluctantly rolled off of her and onto his back upon the bed, staring at the ceiling with annoyance.

Y/n gave him an apologetic look before she slipped her shirt back on over her head and adjusted her hair before heading out into the hallway and toward the front door. Ragnar waited for a moment, allowing certain body parts to adjust to the unwelcome interruption, before he pushed himself off of the bed and headed to the living room. He stopped in the doorway of the hall when he found y/n standing by the front door, now closed, with a young man standing beside her. The man cast him a look with a raised eyebrow, to which Ragnar did not hesitate to give back until his eyes moved to y/n as she spoke. "Ragnar, this is my older brother, Kyle."

Gif Credit: @captainalicen

Tag List: @cullenswife @hypocritic-trash-baby @blueeclipsepaperstudent @huskyhunnyny @wolfy1712 @shit-i-say-shit-i-think @mssbridgerton @menari @kcd15

(If I have forgotten anyone in the tag list, please let me know and I will fix it! <3 )

[fantasydreamland]

New Friend

leif eriksson x fem reader

Summary: You quickly become good friends with a man you have just met. His crew is set out for battle and in need of your healing skills. As you accompany them on the journey you grow even closer to your new friend.

Notes: 18+ only!!! Mostly fluff, some smut, some spoilers kinda, mini chapters

word count: 3606

masterlist

Chapter 1

“Who is that?” Leif asks Freydis, staring toward the ships docking.

“I do not know. It looks like a returning merchant ship.” Freydis responds. “Why?”

Leif shrugs in response and walks off stealing glances in your direction. He watches you from the other side of the dock and when your bright (e/c) eyes connect with his he doesn’t look away. It surprises him when you hold the eye contact and give him a bashful smile. He smiles back before you turn away continuing on with unloading the boat.

Later that night there is a feast in the main hall. The room bustles with loud conversation and laughter as everyone enjoys their food and drink. Leif occasionally glances around the room in search of you.

“Who are you looking for?” Freydis asks.

“What?” Leif says caught off guard. “No one.” He shrugs and looks down as he eats his food.

The night goes on and the tables become less crowded as the ale puts to sleep those who over indulged. Leif finally notices you on the opposite side of the hall. He frowns when he sees you sitting alone looking tired and sad.

“Excuse me.” Leif says to the table before getting up.

He casually wanders his way over to you. Your eyes meet his as he cautiously approaches the table and sits across from you. You look at him with a confused smile and questioning eyes.

“Hi.” He finally says. “I’m Leif. Eriksson.”

“Hi.” You smile. “(y/n).”

He gently shakes your hand, your soft fingers brushing against his calloused ones.

“You looked so lonely over here.” He says almost as a question. “I felt I needed to come and check on you.”

“Well, thank you sir.” You smile even warmer at him.

Your smile made his heart swell. He nearly missed what you said next because he was so hypnotized by it.

“My supper companions… have found company for the night.” You say jokingly rolling your eyes.

“Are you merchants?” He asks.

“Better healer than a tradesman I’m afraid. But I travel with the merchants usually. It’s a good way to see some of the world, and they are always in need of a healer.” You instantly begin to open up to him, not really understanding why.

“So you are from Kattegat then?”

“Yes, I was born here. My mother died of illness not long ago… I never knew my father. It will always be home but I want to go out and live my life, you know? We only have so much of it…”

You take a sip of your drink to hide your blush when you realize you’re over sharing to this total stranger.

“I am sorry to hear about your mother.” He places a hand on yours.

You simply nod in response as you choke back the incoming tears.

“So, where are you from?” You ask him, desperately wanting to change the topic.

“Greenland.” He simply says.

“What brings you to Kattegat?”

“I am just passing through.” He lightly shrugs.

“Oh? And how long are you staying?”

“We leave in two days.”

You try to hide your slight disappointment but Leif notices the change in your face.

“We… are in need of a healer.” He suggests. “If you would be willing to come.”

“Where are we going?” You phrase the question as if you’ve already decided.

“That is um… complicated. It would be best if you did not know.” He hesitates.

“Ok…” You furrow your brows at him. “Is it far?”

“No. Not far at all. We are traveling by foot but we also have some horses. Myself and a small crew. It should only take us a few days to get there.”

“Ok… and why are we going to this mysterious place that I shall not know of?” You ask, your expression unreadable.

“There is a battle to be had…” He says lowly.

“Ok…” You say once again. “…and what is this battle?”

“It um- would be best if you did not know that either.” He knew how it all sounded so he did not expect your next words.

“Well… in that case I better go and sleep off this ale. If there is to be a battle, I have much to prepare before we depart.” You say as you stand from the table.

“I- uh- ok. Ok great.” Leif says in surprise. “I can walk you to your house?”

You nod with a smile and take his arm before leaving the hall. Leif makes light conversation with you as you walk the short path to your small house. Your arm fits around his so comfortably but the feeling makes your cheeks burn. You let go once you arrive at your door.

“Goodnight then, Greenlander.” You smile. “I shall see you in the morning?”

“Yes. Yes, see you in the morning.” He smiles back. “Goodnight, (y/n).”

—

Chapter 2

You meet with Leif the next morning and he introduces you to the small crew.

“This is Harald Siguredsson… And my sister, Freydis Eriksdotter.”

You get acquainted with everyone as they welcome you warmly. You discuss medicines and other things you may need for the travels. Leif keeps his eyes firmly on you as you talk with the others but you pretend not to notice.

“I shall see all of you tomorrow then.” You say to the group once you’re finished, eyes lingering on Leif.

They say their goodbyes but Leif catches up to you as you turn away.

“Do you need help with preparing anything?”

You smile warmly at him and nod. “I could certainly use some help, yes.”

You walk back to your house and Leif follows you inside. He looks around your small but cozy space. The small kitchen has a large table in the corner covered in different herbs and flowers and multiple mortars scattered about it. There was curtains hanging in the doorway to a small bedroom. Through the crack he caught a glimpse of your bed and a tub in the corner. You begin to organize the messy table as you make your preparations.

“What can I do?” Leif walks over to you.

You smile up at him. Each time you smiled at him it made his heart skip a beat. You hand him a mortar and pestle along with some plants.

“I need you to grind these up for me. As fine as you can please, the leafs will start to form a paste.”

He simply nods and begins crushing the herbs before him. As you both work with busy hands you ask more about him and his life and he tells you of Greenland and of his family. He then asks you about yours and you tell him how you grew up on a small farm at the edges of Kattegat with your mother. She taught you all about plants and healing mixtures. After she died you moved to a smaller place and began the occasional travel with the merchants, making coin with your healing skills. You enjoyed the escape but you always returned home.

It felt oddly comfortable to open up to Leif. The conversation seemed to flow between you like you had known each other for years.

“When did she die?” Leif asks.

Your hands pause and you frown looking down.

“6 months ago.” You choke out as you hold back tears.

“I am sorry…” He places his hand over yours.

Tears still in your eyes, you give him a soft smile and squeeze his hand in response before resuming your preparations. After that you mostly work in comfortable silence, occasionally giving Leif a new plant to grind and him asking questions about what they do. Then there were the silent glances and smiles that made your heart beat a little faster.

Once everything was finally prepared the sun had begun to set. You say goodnight to each other as Leif gets ready to head back to the inn.

“Thank you so much for your help today.” You say as he stands in the open doorway. “You have helped me more than you know.”

“Anytime.” He simply smiles and heads out the door. “See you tomorrow!” He calls behind him.

“See you.” You say under your breath.

—

Chapter 3

The next morning you wake and gather up your things for the trip. You walk down to the inn that the majority of the crew were staying at. You see Freydis outside and she waves you over with a smile.

“Good morning!” She smiles as she grabs your bags from you and hands them to another man loading the cart.

“Thank you.” You smile. “And good morning.”

You see the whole crew on the move preparing for the trip. Until someone was sick or wounded there was not much else for you to do.

“Can I do anything to help?” You ask Freydis.

“Hmm, uh, yes actually! Can you go and wake Leif?” She asks. “He is still sleeping and we are leaving soon.”

“Uh, yes sure.” You nod.

“Thank you, he is in room 3.” She gestures her head to the inn. “Down the hall, last door on the left. Please be quick about it we are almost ready.”

You nod again and quickly make your way into the inn and find room 3 down the hall. You fully expected Leif to be asleep in his bed so you open the door knocking lightly. Your eyes nearly pop out of your head when you see him standing there shirtless. Your eyes quickly trace over the tattoos on his muscular back before he turns around and notices you. You catch a glimpse of his bare hips as he pulls his pants up. Your eyes dart back up to his questioning ones. You have to focus to stop your eyes from wandering back down to where his hands were lacing up his pants, also bringing attention to his toned abs.

“I- uh. Sorry. We- uh. Um. We- uh.” The heat rises in your cheeks as you stand there feeling like a stuttering idiot.

You clear your throat and finally get the words out. “We are leaving…”

“Ok, I am ready. I was just getting dressed.” He says nonchalantly as he pulls his shirt over his head, clearly not noticing how flustered you are.

You follow him out of the building and join the rest of the group as you head off for the journey.

—

Chapter 4

You walk all day with the group, sharing stories and laughs along the way. Considering you did not know where you were going or what battle awaited them you felt safe with your companions.

Once the sun begins to set you find a spot to camp for the night. You eat supper around the campfire chatting away to Freydis sitting beside you. Occasionally you would catch Leif watching you from across the fire.

The temperature drops as the night gets later. Everyone begins to say their goodnights and retreat to their tents. Soon you and Leif are left alone sitting across each other. Your eyes meet in glances causing a soft smile from Leif. You stare back into the fire to hide your blushing. Shivering a little, you pull your cloak tighter around yourself.

“You look cold.” Leif breaks the silence.

“How observant of you.” You playfully tease. “That would be because I am.”

“Why don’t you come over here? We can keep each other warm.” He smiles.

You meet his eyes for a moment before crawling around the fire and cuddling up beside him as he wraps his arm around you. The heat radiating from his body warms you instantly. You both sit in comfortable silence looking into the fire. After a moment he rests his head on top of yours making your heart swell. As soon as you rest your eyes you began to drift off to sleep. Leif could feel your body beginning to go limp and held you tighter.

“Hey…” He whispers to you as you wake again. “Why don’t you go and get some sleep? I’ll help you to your tent.”

“I am fine.” You say shaking off your sleepiness. You did not want to go back to your cold tent alone you just wanted to remain in his warm arms.

“Do you not want to sleep?” He pulls back to raise his eyebrow at you.

“I just want to remain here with you.” You sheepishly admit.

Leif can’t help the wide grin that comes to his face.

“Well, we cannot sleep out here in the cold.” He begins to move to stand.

“Leif-“ You grab his arm, making him sit back down.

His confused eyes meet yours but then soften when he understands the unspoken words behind your eyes while you stare deeply into his.

He leans towards you, eyes briefly glancing to your lips. He moves at a pace that causes the anticipation to ache in your chest. Finally, his lips brush against yours in a soft tender kiss. You could feel the sparks the second your lips touched like fireworks had just gone off inside you both. He pulls away softly and smiles to you before placing a kiss on your forehead.

“We should get some sleep. We could continue to keep each other warm?” He says standing up and holding his hand out to you.

You nod and take his hand as he pulls you up to stand. He continues to hold onto your hand as he leads you to his tent, which was slightly larger than yours.

Once inside you shed your cloak and top layers, placing them in the corner. Leif does the same until you are both left in your thin shirts and bottoms. You crawl under the furs and cuddle up to him for warmth. He pulls you in close, wrapping both his strong arms tightly around you. Your heart races as his embrace feels so unfamiliar yet so comfortable. You close your eyes to sleep. He kisses the top of your head causing a smile to form on your lips. His steady heartbeat thumping against your ear causes you to quickly drift off into a peaceful sleep, more peaceful than either of you have had in a long time.

The next morning you throw the rest of your clothing back on and crawl out of Leif’s tent after your bladder had woken you up. You jump when your eyes are met by a single Viking already starting up the morning fire. Harald gives you a knowing smirk and raises his brow at you, glancing between you and Leif’s tent. You give him an embarrassed smile before you hurry away into the woods.

—

Chapter 5

You and Leif had not had a moment to speak alone as you traveled with the group for most of the day. You did not think you were acting any different but the others could sense something had shifted. When you finally stop to make camp you suggest that you and Leif should try to find some fish at the nearby river.

“How did you sleep?” Leif asks as you walk together.

“Very well.” You smile at him. “And you?”

“Very well.” He smiles back.

“I believe I can take some credit for your peaceful sleep.” You wink.

“I suppose I could do the same.” He smirks.

“I have never met anyone quite like you Greenlander.” You smile adoringly.

“I have never met anyone quite like you, (y/n). I think I-“ He pauses.

“What?” You turn to him as you both stop walking.

“I think I am in love with you.” He admits.

“Leif-“

Before you can respond he boldly grabs your face and captures your lips in a passionate kiss. You freeze for a moment of surprise before relaxing against him and throwing your arms around his neck. The kiss continues and his tongue slips in to gently caress yours. He is gentle and passionate and all you can think is how you love this man too.

“Leif…” You whisper when your lips part.

Your eyes meet and he looks at you with pure adoration.

“We have fish to catch…” You say and he nods removing his hands from your face.

“And…” You move your hand to brush his cheek with your thumb. “I think I am in love with you too.”

He grins widely and places another quick kiss to your lips. You hold his hand as you make your way to the river to catch some fish for supper.

—

Chapter 6

As soon as the sun began to rise so did the crew. You rush around with them as they pack up camp. They needed to continue traveling as soon as possible, they planned to reach the battle today.

They soon stop again to make one last camp in preparation for the battle. You had a tent set up with a large work table and you begin to prepare everything you may need following the fight.

Leif steps into your tent to say goodbye. He quickly cups your cheeks and gives a firm kiss to your lips. You pull him close as you kiss him back.

“Please do not die.” You whisper as your thumb strokes the hand on your face.

“I will do my best.” He places a final kiss to your forehead and walks out of the tent. He could not bear spending long to say goodbye to you knowing it could be the last time.

-

You had been pacing for hours now waiting for everyone to return from the battle. Waiting for Leif to return. The more time that passes the more you worry. There was a very real chance he may never return. A very real chance he had been killed. The thoughts swirl around in your mind and cause your chest to tighten.

Finally, you hear the commotion outside of people returning. You run out and desperately search around for Leif. You spot the rest of your crew and your heart sinks. You begin to walk over to Freydis but before she spots you a hand grabs your shoulder. You spin around to see Leif standing behind you shirtless, covered in blood and dirt, with wild messy hair. His face expressionless.

“Oh Leif!” You throw your arms around him not caring about the blood now staining your clothes. “I was so worried I had lost you for good… Are you hurt?” You pull back and examine him frantically for any noticeable wounds.

“I am fine. Can we go inside?” He says flatly.

You raise a brow at his tone but then nod and follow him into the tent. Once the curtains are shut you turn to Leif.

“Are you alright?” You barely get the words out before his lips are on yours, pulling you into a ferocious kiss that takes your breath away.

“No.” He mumbles against your lips. “There were moments… I thought I would never… see you again.” He says between kisses.

He cups your face and kisses you hungrily like a starved animal. The air is filled with a mountain of different emotions as you kiss him back with a burning passion. His tongue demands entrance and you happily oblige. The metallic taste of the blood on his lips makes you pull him closer to you, the fear of nearly losing him today too much to bear.

Suddenly he lifts you up and throws you down onto the table causing a bunch of things to clatter to the ground. You pay no attention the fallen items as he starts kissing and nipping at your neck. You feel his hardness pushing against your core and it lights a fire within you. Your hands wander all over each other as your lips connect again. You run your fingers over his bloody chest and strong biceps as he moves to grab your breasts through your shirt.

As things become more heated you begin to tear at each other’s clothes. He shoves your skirts up to your hips and grinds harder against you, making you gasp into his mouth. He begins pulling the laces of your top as you frantically fumble with the strings of his pants. Your body felt electric from how desperately you needed him right now. Your mind was completely blurred by the feeling him.

Before you could get any further Freydis bursts into the tent startling you both.

“Oh… I- uh- I am sorry…” She stutters in surprise. “But we uh- need our healer out here.”

“Yes, of course of course. Apologies...” You quickly scramble to your feet and straighten yourself out.

Freydis gives you a nod and a knowing smirk to Leif before leaving the tent. You turn to Leif who’s now holding a damp rag. He gently wipes off the bit of blood from your face and neck. It was a sweet gesture although you knew you would be covered in blood again in a moment once you helped the wounded. His eyes meet yours and he smiles down at you before kissing your forehead.

“Go on.” He gestures his head to outside.

“I am so glad you are alive and safe.” You grab his hands and kiss his lips once more.

He did not need to respond for you to know exactly how he felt. You smile and gaze lovingly at each other before you move to gather your supplies, including those now on the floor, and exit the tent. You tried not to let the overwhelming thoughts of him cloud your mind while you worked. You could not help but count the minutes until you could have privacy with him tonight.

[komotionlessqueenmm]

Lokabrenna

(1-?)

Short story # 16

✨Fandom(s) - Vikings & The Last Kingdom

💍Pairing - Osferth X Reader

🕯Summary - After many years, you and your brothers are reunited with your father, King Ragnar. Along side him are two men you've never met. And when met face to face with your father, you unleash your rage of being abandoned.

⚠️Warning(s) - Talk of mutilation, near death experience, abandonment, and that's about it I think.

📝Note(s) - Okay so I randomly started brewing this story in my head. I've watched all but like the last season of Vikings, and this story will have little to do with the storyline up until the point Ragnar comes back. Now I've never watched The Last Kingdom, I want to start watching it soon, but as I am writing this piece I haven't watched any. So this crossover will be interesting to say the least. Oh and I apologize but I am writing this with the idea that the reader is about 6'7", and in time I'll explain why in later notes. But for the most part this won't be mentioned, but it will pop up every so often. Reader is also described to have emerald green eyes, dark hair the first two things being things from her mother, and scars she obtained as a girl. Other than that the readers image is up to you. So the read is kinda like an OC but with your name, and the majority of your image. Oh and in this story the Norse Gods are real, and several will be involved in this story. But some things to do with the Gods isn't actually a part of Norse mythology, I'm just bending some of it to work best with the story. (Thank you for taking the time to read the notes if you have.)

🗝Key information - Lokabrenna meaning Loki's Torch in this story. (Eventually it will make perfect sense.)

🌬Year posted - 2022

📖Reading time roughly - Ten minutes.

🙈Rating - SFW/NSFW

◈ Part 1.) | Part 2.) |

🎧Playlist to listen to while reading.↓↓↓

Sparing with Björn was something (Y/n) indulged with most days, as he was the only one of her brothers willing to spar with her, and the only one that would push her to better her skills. Though her twin, Ivar would likely spar with her and push her to be the best, his legs prevented him from being able to do as much as Björn could. The others watched their eldest brother fought with their little sister, who wasn't quite so little, as she stood roughly four inches above Björn. Ubbe chuckled when (Y/n) slammed her shield into Björns, making the blond stumble back several inches. "You can do better than that." (Y/n) taunted her brother, blocking his sword and countering swiftly, her blade resting beside his neck. "Honestly I'm beginning to think you are getting old brother." She teased, making the others snicker on the sidelines. Björn scoffed with a grin, breaking away from her and beginning the fight again.

"King Ragnar has returned." A voice called out, the words making (Y/n)'s stance falter, giving Björn the opportunity to trip her, making her land face first into the dirt. "Shit." Björn muttered under his breath, realizing his mistake, he tossed his shield and sword aside. The others approaching as she rolled onto her back, looking to the blue sky with glossy emerald eyes. "I didn't mean to-" She cut Björn off. "It isn't that." She closed her eyes for a moment, only opening them again when Ivar brushed her hair away from her eyes. "He doesn't know she is alive." Ivar reminded their brothers in a soft tone, making the eldest sigh with realization. Björn offered his hand to (Y/n), pulling her to her feet when she accepted his offer. "Well then, he will be surprised hm." The blond patted her shoulder affectionately, smiling when she chuckled at that. "Come on then, let's go see the old man." She dusted herself off then followed behind her brother's, keeping pace with Ivar as she always would.

The growing crowd parted for the arrival of the Princes and Princess, allowing Ragnar to see his children for the first time in many years. The shock apparent when his eyes laid on (Y/n), who stood tall beside her brother's, trying to suppress her emotions. "(Y/n)." Ragnar breathed out her name, tears welling in his eyes at the sight of his only surviving daughter. Ragnar approached her with slow steps, as if he was afraid she would vanish if he approached to quickly. "Little (Y/n)." He smiled taking in the sight of her. "Not so little any more." He remarked with a grin, his eyes casting to her left where Ivar sat, his pointer finger curled around (Y/n)'s, something they had done since birth for comfort. "Hello Ivar." Ragnar smiled down at his youngest son, and for a moment Ivar mirrored his smile, until (Y/n) suddenly shoved Ragnar away. The crowd grew deathly silent, watching the scene unfold before them.

"You left me." She hissed lowly, looming over her father. "I didn't-." Ragnar tried, but she stalked forward, putting her face into his. "You left me for dead." (Y/n) growled quietly, fire practically glowing within her emerald orbs. "I thought you had died." He argued. "I called out to you, I screamed so you would hear me. And yet you left me to burn in that dragons fire." Her gaze cast to the two strange men accompanying the King. "Let me guess, this is the boy you took in after you abandoned me?" She accused, Ragnar's eyes shimmering with shame. "You left all of us, but you would raise this stranger as if he were your own." She scoffed. "You think we did not know? That we didn't keep an eye on you? That we wouldn't hear about the young warrior claiming to be another son of King Ragnar?" She straightened her back, looming over her father once more. "You are no King, and you are no father, you are just an old man wallowing in self pity." She hissed before turning her back on him.

"I am your father, and I am your King!" Ragnar yelled, his anger only fueling (Y/n)'s rage. She quickly spun on her heel, and Björn tried catching her arm as she moved to swing. He failed in holding her back, instead he only pulled two of her rings off before her fist collided with Ragnar's jaw, the warn man fell to one knee, blood oozing from his lip. "You stopped being my father when you left me for dead, and you are a worthless King that even the Gods do not recognize." Her voice boomed over the crowd, and as quickly as she had said that, she stormed off. Shoving her way through the crowd, unaware of her brother's following her. Björn crouched down to pick up (Y/n)'s rings, which had fallen to the ground. While Uhtred and Osferth helped Ragnar to his feet, despite the old King's demands to be left alone. "You are not the man I once knew." Björn commented as he rose to his feet, looking his father in the eyes. "Like (Y/n)... I cannot forgive you for what you did to her." He added before walking away, intent on joining his siblings again.

(Y/n) began her trek into the woods, her sword secured to her hip, and her large grey cloak fastened around her shoulders. "Princess wait a moment." Uhtred called out as he and Osferth jogged after her into the woods. "Why should I even speak to you?" She glowered at the man, who looked almost sheepish before her. "I'm sorry." He offered, which only confused her. "Why are you sorry?" She questioned. "Because of your father." He explained. "I am not angry at my father for raising you... I am angry that he so easily abandoned me and my brothers. And yet instead of coming home, with or without you, he stayed out there and pretended as if he wasn't a King, as if he didn't have his own children to care for." She turned away and began walking again, only for the men to follow her. "You said he left you for dead? I had assumed he left you here with your brothers." He spoke up again, his words causing her to stop again. "My father took me with him when he ran away from Kattegat, I was to young to understand what was happening." She pulled her hood down, properly observing the two.

"I was with him for two years, we lived in a cabin far from here. One evening while he was out hunting a dragon descended upon the cabin. It set the cabin on fire while I was trapped inside, I cried out for my father to save me, but he never came. The dragon had left as quickly as it came, and I was left alone to burn alive." The smaller of the two grimaced at her words. "I found myself trapped in the best place however, as the smoke could not reach me. When part of the wall finally crumbled to the ground, I crawled as best I could out of the cabin. I was weak, and burnt badly. The sky was dark by this point, and my father nowhere in sight." She licked her lips before continuing. "I did the only thing I could think to do, I wept for the Gods. Praying that one of them would hear me, and offer me aid. The wolf God Fenrir heard me, and sent his sons Hati and Sköll to aid me. They found me and used what little magic they could to mend my wounds, which did very little, but it kept me alive long enough for them to bring me home."

She pulled to cord of her cloak, allowing it to fall to the ground. "They ran for seven days and eight nights with me atop Hati until they reached Kattegat. They broke into my families long house, with me on the brink of death, and the moment my mother laid eyes on me she knew what had happened. For she dreamt about it the very same night it happened. She sent for healers from far and wide, and with their help I was nurtured back to health. I bare the scars of my father's negligence, and can never forgive him for it." She turned her back to the men, and quickly swept her shirt up to show them, the mass amount of burnt skin stretched across the expanse of her back. "Gods." Uhtred muttered under his breath, the both of them stunned by the sheer amount of tattered skin, each wondering how she could survive such a thing. The sound of a branch snapping caught their attention, and just as her brothers walked into view (Y/n) dropped her shirt, now facing her brother's.

"You are going to see him aren't you? To pay tribute?" Ubbe asked as she picked up her cloak. "I am." She nodded her head in agreement. "We're coming with you." Björn stated. "Why?" She wondered. "We wish to give thanks to the ones who saved you." Ivar cut in, moving around Ubbe to sit at her feet. "Hvitserk, Sigurd, why are you coming? Neither of you have ever seemed to care much about me." She tilted her head, her words making Hvitserk scoff. "You are still our sister." Sigurd argued. "We care more deeply than you think." Hvitserk added. "Okay... You can all come with me." She smiled at her brother's, her gaze casting to Uhtred and Osferth when Uhtred cleared his throat. "Who are you going to see?" He questioned. "Fenrir wolf." Her words stunned them both for a moment. "We shall come as well." Uhtred insisted. "And why is that?" (Y/n) questioned. "I feel that we must." He vaguely explained, making (Y/n) arch a brow at him.

"If that is what you wish, then so be it." She turned her attention then to Ivar. "I shall carry you Ivar, this is a long journey, and I do not wish for you to suffer." She knelt before him. "So you shall suffer instead?" Ivar argued stubbornly. "I will happily suffer for you dear brother." She assured him, before playfully bumping her forehead against his. Only turning her back to him when he grinned at her, and effortlessly she hoisted her twin onto her back, and rose to her feet. "We will not be back until tomorrow evening." She warned them, half expecting Uhtred and Osferth to turn back. A faint grin ghosting her lips when they continued to follow her lead deeper into the woods. "I didn't expect Fenrir to be so close to Kattegat." Uhtred remarked. "He isn't. But one of the passageways to him is." (Y/n) explained, the entire encounter leaving Osferth confused in his silence, though he continued to follow his friend regardless of his doubts.

← Previously | Continue →

◈ Part 1.) | Part 2.) |

⚜ Leave a comment and let me know what you think, and if you'd like to be tagged in future parts of this story. - Jaded Monkey🐒

[aikaterini-drag]

Eternal bros 🩵 Harald and Leif, the dynamic duo that makes Vikings: Valhalla an epic saga of friendship and showcases the bonds that can be forged even amidst the chaos of war.

[undiscovered-horizon]

🙌🙌🙌🙌 Just read the one you did for me and holy shit, you are such a good writer 😭❤❤ now if it is okay I am going to do angst or on the verge of angst. One with the ragnarsson family ( both female and Male, maybe even ragnars brother if that is okay?). Their reaction if you got seriously injured maybe even dies when they left their house/town for like an raid??? ❤❤❤

Vikings preference: You get injured while they're gone

Ragnar On the outside, he appears relatively calm and collected, asking you what exactly happened. Once he makes sure you're alright in general terms, he goes out to search for whoever did this to you. Tells them that if they have a dispute with him, they could have simply talked to him but now that they have committed to a violent way, Ragnar challenges them to a duel. Fairly obviously, he wins but decides to spare the offender and instead of taking their life, he takes one of their limbs. Having children with him wouldn't really influence his actions, only the severity of his anger and the damage he does to the culprit.

Bjorn He's seething. Bjorn is very well aware that because of who he is, there are many people out there who don't need any more reason beyond that to spill blood. Apparently, if they can't spill his, yours is just fine. His method of solving the problem is finding whoever did this to you, dragging them out of their house, making a huge scene with an exalted speech, only to kill them in one strike in the end. Until you're alright, and he's very sceptical about your assurance, he visits you during the day but never lingers for too long. Bjorn think he should be out there to catch any scheme in the making. If you have a son of age, Bjorn will take his anger out on him partially: the boy was, after all, told to look after you when his father can't. But if you have smaller children, he's definitely not letting them out of his sight for the next month or so. Also prohibits them from spending time with strangers, just in case.

Ubbe Being a prince, part of him expected something like this to happen, so he's not exactly surprised but still, he thought people had more respect towards him and his family. No matter the severity of your injury, he's off to have a 'stern talk' with the offender, which means more or less that he's going to beat them within an inch of their life while making very believable threats of what happens should they try something like that again. Until you get better, only Ragnarok itself can force him to leave your side. But if you have children, the scale is tipped instantaneously and he's not afraid to decrease the population of Kattegat. He's very family-oriented, so a threat towards his offspring is a threat towards him personally.

Hvitserk Grabs Ubbe to get the problem 'sorted out' which comes down to Ubbe holding down the culprit and Hvitserk going absolutely berserk on them. If anyone asks, neither of them knows what happened. Suspiciously, the culprit themself doesn't speak up about how they got beaten nearly to death. Despite the suspicious obliviousness, everyone and anyone who once wished ill will on you are having second thoughts. If you have old enough children, he considers that 'incident' a sign to start teaching them to fight.

Sigurd More baffled than angry. Out of all the Ragnarsons, he's the least notorious, so why in Gods' names did someone specifically go after you? He figures that the offence wasn't really aimed at him but rather at his entire family and the culprit went for whoever was the easiest target. Which doesn't really make him feel any better: you got seriously hurt by random chance, only because you decided to settle down with him and you, apparently, were at the wrong place, at the wrong time. Depending on how severe your injuries are, he's willing to ask Ubbe and Hvitserk to join him in going after the culprit. After that is dealt with, he begins seriously considering moving away from Kattegat. If you have children, he both decides it's time to teach them to fight but if you have a son, he's going to get the short end of the stick: Sigurd will constantly remind him that when he's gone, it's your son's responsibility to defend you.

Ivar He may be a deranged individual but he's not stupid, so he doesn't storm off to fight the offender in a duel - Ivar knows his chances are slim at best. So he thinks of a perfect ruse, something that would lure the culprit into their own demise. It, quite obviously, ends up working and all of Kattegat gets to marvel at his horrendous and yet impressive genius. Whoever dared to raise their hand against you is not publicly begging for death as some of the bravest men around grimace in disgust. The message to his enemies should be considered received. For most of his life, he was quite convinced he couldn't have children so when he finally has them, he's horribly protective of them. And that means his ruse becomes slightly more unhinged.

Aslaug She can't retaliate in an equally violent way but that doesn't really matter - she has her own way of making life Hell for the offender. Aslaug exiles them publically, making sure that all of Kattegat heard about their wrongdoings. As a queen, she can go even a step further and ensure that all of Norway knows what they had done and no family or jarl will ever give them shelter.

Lagertha Publicly promises to kill them but not before a fair trial. It's not really about justice but rubbing their punishment in - in other words, she follows the way of the Gods to make sure that the culprit goes through absolute torture in this life and the next one. Once the verdict is announced, she spares no time in driving her sword through their chest. Similarly to Ragnar, having children doesn't really influence her choice of actions but only how much anger she expresses and the unsavoury language she uses.

[court-jobi]

Sneak Peek: Just Be Gentle pt 2

Gif credit by @javier-pena

I am SO delayed in this, but WIP Weekend it is! Recommended by the lovely @djarins-cyare, thanks friend!

I have not visited my drafts folder in sooo long, but I'm coming out of an unintentional writing hiatus and have fresh motivation to open the ole lappytop back up for a little sample to share. Part 1 of this fic was much beloved by yall apparently, so it continues here!

Pairing: Paz Vizsla x reader

Words: 1.9K (for now)

For my Star Wars | Mandalorian Masterlist, check it out here!

Paz watched the scene before him unfold; the heat of compassion bloomed in the gut like stoking a fire…

Din Djarin swore on the deed of his ship that he wasn’t exaggerating. He placed a flag solidly in her camp, and would go to arms for her as a returned gesture of loyalty. From that first meeting when the Hunter came back through the alcove to Nevarro’s covert, he spoke on his companion’s competence on several fronts. Namely, in all the ways that resonated with his people: creative thinking, handy know-how, and something more: empathy- a gift not to be ignored when it came to caring for others -himself included- in moments of high stress. 

He praised her talents ‘all across the board’, citing moments in their brief stint together on the Razor Crest as testimony to his Mandalorian clan for her to remain there in shelter– to be the exception to their rules regarding outsiders. Aruetti. 

A surprise to none, Paz Vizsla deemed that it would be up to him to judge such loyalties for himself; as a man more inclined to view actions as proof rather than words. 

But then he met her. Every bit of what Djarin said was true. Better yet, she proved every assumption of his wrong: allowed her to take him by the crook of his arm, surrendered her best vote of confidence, and let him lead. Acquiesced to his strength, protected it, and encouraged him at every turn. Saved him the first of her meals, the best of her scavenged findings. Took to tending to his wounds herself, because he wasn’t gentle enough to do so on his own.

A few weeks have passed since that day, but his fondness for her didn’t wane like the moon’s phases did. Paz Vizsla made it his mission from that moment forward to carry an extra ounce of gentleness, just for her. 

Then, the refugees came pouring in. Her arrival couldn't have been timed more perfectly, Paz thought; he’d only begun to see the full measure of little Song’s magic the moment he saw her skills at work. 

A smaller covert made a quick exit and raced to safety after a raid depleted their stores a few systems over. There had been some rumors of their hunter clans taking the bait of Guild membership in order to make ends meet, as they’d seen in Djarin’s success. The Way instilled a sense of belonging wherever Mandalorians crossed paths, so merging on his covert’s territory for the upcoming season out of necessity was a given.

But now, in light of Nevarro’s storm season, it seems their numbers would be doubling indefinitely. The situation proved to be a strain and test of everyone’s flexibility and resilience, to keep everyone content and organized on such short notice… but with a Vizsla as Alorad, they flourished with the change in plans and watched on as Paz steeled himself against Fear, and made everything suitable. Supplies were rationed and rooms were stuffed to the brim, but they would make do.

While they may not have resources with them in tow, they more than made up for it by pulling their weight in preparation for the underground shelters. And that, would benefit all. 

Song made herself indispensable, true to what Djarin had said. Moreover, she did so with caring smiles and solemn assurances to the migrating Mandalorians -young and old- who felt very out of place. To those men who lost their way in the bustle and found themselves turned around in the tunnels, she would give quick pointers about where to go– and thanked them for their service to the clan, each and every one. 

Learning fast. Paz was grateful.

Upon nightfall, there was less commotion than normal. As the common spaces gradually funneled down, bedchambers were lit and sealed for the night. For the most part, it was the heads of families -adults- who went to rooms for the night as a chance to let down and get their heads on straight after such a sudden move. Surely not all slept right away, but took to tending to their armor and delving into their meditation practices.

 Meanwhile, their children under ten or so were sent off to the creche where they could be watched over. The community room was next to the medstations, and as kids are often ones to complain of very little bout of aches, pains, or simple snotty noses, it was the logical choice. 

Two crechemasters stayed in the spacious alcove of the Medbay annex overseeing the creche, as well as one of the resident tribe’s kitchen aides, a few men as guards near the entrance and supply doors… and a certain someone -with a voice like the Coming of Spring- that Paz Viszla could never refuse pausing for a minute to listen….

Clearly tugged by the soft spot within him, Paz volunteered to serve first watch over the children for their first night, which made their parents feel that much more assured of their protection. So with blankets pulled from every corner of spare storage, canvas mats laid this way and that, and with juvenile excitement despite the circumstances, the children all got to sleep and the staff interchanged periods of rest until all was quiet by the early waning hours of morning. Even the covert’s local young ones came to join this slumber party of sorts. For the sake of welcoming and strengthening bonds, the crechemasters allowed it. 

Right after the 0300 guards changed out, Paz heard it. Inside the alcoves inset bunks, one of the smallest boys -nearly four years old- was making a steady and increasing amount of noise, until he startled himself awake and clearly didn't know where he was. He was calling for his babuir in their native tongue; but by his aimless flailing about, it’s clear he’s looking for just about anyone bigger than him that might come to his cry for help.

Before Paz could overstep one of the sleeping children nearest him to respond, he caught the woman he'd know to know as the 'Songbird of the Covert' slipping out of the window jumpseat like a sparrow off its perch, flying to the child's stuttering form up on the riser.

"Well hi honey, g'morning to you too~ Pretty early, isn't it?"

Seeing a soothing figure coming to his call, little threadbare arms immediately shot out and spoke brokenly in bits and pieces of a particular Sundari dialect. Basic wasn't his strong suit. Then again, it gave way to crying in minutes anyway, so his distress was clear and the language barrier mattered little.

"Hm?-- ohhh, aw c'mere bub..” the woman set the child on a hip as he clutched to her. She set them in a sway, “Yeah, you can stay up with me– I can always use some snuggles, too."

The toddler nuzzled in but by his whimpers, Song moved towards the open atrium with more room to walk around and hopefully not disturb the sleeping of any others. 

Paz met her there. She'd looked his way with a pitiful expression, traipsing about with the little one in her arms and keeping his little shoulders pressed in close.

"Bad dreams, I'd say," she murmured low to Paz, in Basic. "But I can't tell if anything else is wrong. Doesn’t feel too warm, not coughing. Seems trusting though, poor thing. " she shrugged, motioning to how easily the child was settling.

Through his careful watch of her across the room, he’d caught her sneaking the back of her hand to his forehead earlier in a move masked as just fixing his curls, but fortunately, he must not have been found feverish to warrant more worry. 

Paz came to bring a big, steady hand on the child's back. The kid turned his head from her neck to find the new Alorad tilting his helmet to match, and  made a big sniff to put on a brace face. Shy and no doubt aware of this elder’s importance, he snuck out a little wave back in acknowledgement.

"//Be at peace, young one. You're safe in the Reliable one's arms, that you are.//"

Whatever Paz said to this "adika" -as he seems to have called him- brought relief to the child, as he hugged her neck tighter and made himself comfortable again in her arms.

An amused whisper graced his ears as she looked up at him,

"What'd you say?"

"That he has nothing to worry about," Paz shared kindly. "He seems to like you."

 "I wouldn't think these kiddos would trust strangers so easily after what they've been through," she smoothed back the child’s hair gently- thankfully, his breathing evened out into sleepy sighs.

 "They've had quite the eventful last few days."

She kept humming away for a minute, trying to subconsciously lull the child the rest of the way. She looked absently over the nursery if other young ones, but Paz was captivated by her alone.

This instinct must have been what Djarin was talking about. She hadn't hesitated to jump right in, even though she must have been on the edge of sleep herself- if her state of dress was any hint. Shed opted for no outer protective layers for this reason perhaps- a source of comfort for the little ones, and though perhaps it was also to signify to them she was not a warrior or someone too formal for them to shy away from.

Finally seeing the child dozing back fully, Paz offered to take the child from her and set him back on his bunk above them.

 She let him, adjusting her loose cardigan back onto her shoulder. Shed opted for that over her cropped black body glove that acted as a breastband, and the loose comfy pants that honestly have fit Paz better, but she made do with her current wardrobe and didn't bother worrying about outfits too much.

Here, just over his shoulder, she watched the Big Blue tuck -yes, tuck- the child in. Stepping away only when he saw the child try to settle into his new sleep position did he step away and back towards her retreat to her watch corner.

"Teacher and carer? You're the dual package, Mr. Vizsla."

"I do what I can. It's not often I get to see our children be children- I would preserve that wonder in them if I could."

Childlike innocence: to hear the hardest-working, stoic soldier speak on such tender things was a thing of wonder itself. 

“I’ve only ever seen the little ones work their drills here– recitations, history lessons.” She looked about the room. “I haven’t seen kids this young in a year, much less so many crammed into one room.”

“Well, the rooming arrangement is common practice,” Paz explained, his trademark patience a soothing constant- even through the helmet, “You’ll find a nursery like this in every covert across the galaxy.”

Then, a more sobering thought, one that brought pity to the forefront of her mind:

“If– you weren’t all living down here, would they be going to a normal school? Making other friends? At least while they’re young?”

As if she expected any other answer, Paz’s reflex came through the form of his gentle whisper: “This is the Way.”

“That it is,” she firmed up a knowing smile. “There’s so many of them, going through so much newness at their age.”

Paz agrees, though knows no other way than the community that sleeps before them. To watch the woman’s empathy radiate from her being -those angel eyes- was to know the warmest ray of sunshine in the pit of winter. Such a calm presence… that’s what these youth need, after all. She’s exactly where she should be.

[levithestripper]

Patience Is a Virtue

summary:

stuck in winchester due to a quicker-than-usual winter and confined inside king ecbert’s castle with nothing to do, ragnar finds himself trailing behind athelstan, being strung along to god knows where. but his little priest promises it's worth it, and ragnar makes good on athelstan’s promise.

warnings: fluff, smut, porn with a sprinkling of plot, corruption kink, god complex, church sex, oral sex, semi-public sex (?), religious imagery and guilt, degradation kink, praise kink, aftercare.

length: 7.6k || read on ao3 || join my taglist

a/n: born of a thought i had with @grantairescurls :) the brainworms consumed me while writing this and i somehow managed to finish it before the new year. ending the past two years with an athelnar fic may become a tradition around here who knows. ANYWAYS i hope you all enjoy it as much as i did while writing it. doubles as day 16 of my three year old kinktober series i'm struggling to finish lmfao.

Winchester is a fascinating place. The landscape is similar enough to Norway’s, albeit missing the country’s magnificent mountains and rolling hills that Ragnar has somehow grown bored of. It has grown even closer in similarity these last few months, with winter bringing heavy snowstorms, covering the courtyard in fluffy white snow that glitters in the cold sunlight.

Free of King Ecbert’s all-knowing gaze, he walks beside Athelstan, eagerly waiting to see where his priest is leading him. But he’s known for being impatient, voicing his restlessness to Athelstan, a man who has enough patience for the both of them. “Where are you taking me, little priest?” Ragnar asks, trying to push the right buttons to irritate him, but it fails. 

“Patience is a virtue, Ragnar,” he replies, a knowing look on his face.

Ragnar rolls his eyes with a dramatic groan, earning himself a quiet chuckle from his friend. “Well, are we close, at least?” 

Athelstan doesn’t answer him on purpose, knowing it’ll annoy him further. Before Ragnar can continue to complain, Athelstan announces they’ve arrived at their destination. “We’re here.”

They stand in front of two giant wooden doors at the end of the long cobblestone hallway they found themselves in. The black metal handles make it look like the entrance to a dungeon. 

Ragnar looks at Athelstan with confusion. Ath must’ve taken a wrong turn somewhere! Ath surely can’t be serious when he says this is what he is so eager to show him! “Didn’t realize you’re a comedian, Athelstan,” he smirks. “Come on, where are we going, truthfully?”

Athelstan turns to meet his gaze, unaffected by Ragnar’s cockiness, far too used to him and his shenanigans. “I told you, patience is a virtue.” He leaves Ragnar’s side, walking up two pointless steps, and takes hold of the cold metal handles, pulling both doors open in a grand reveal of what lay behind. Light flooded the dark hallway, causing Ragnar to raise a shielding hand to his brow. 

Through squinted eyes, what he sees takes his breath away. Larger-than-life stained glass windows filter the massive amount of winter sunlight into a rainbow of colors across the beautiful stone floors. Despite the colorful sunlight, the room is still relatively dark. The ceiling is taller than the hallways’, at least three stories worth of height between the two, the top coming together at a point. Hanging from the pointed ceiling is a fancy—and expensive-looking—candlelit chandelier, adding to the specific atmosphere in the room that Ragnar can’t find a descriptor name for. In the center of the room is a marble statue depicting what appears to be a stable of some kind. The wall behind the statue hangs a large wooden cross with a bronze man nailed to it. 

“This is what I wanted to show you.” Athelstan looks as if he is in his God’s heaven. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

Ragnar slowly trails behind him, head craning back to absorb everything before him. “Is this what you talk so much of back home? What is it called…” he mumbles under his breath, searching for the word in English. “A… church?”

Athelstan smiles at the effort Ragnar is putting towards getting the correct answer all on his own. “Close. A chapel,” he says in Norse, then repeats the new word in English.

He nods, trying to commit the phrase to memory. “What is the difference?” he asks, returning to Norse. 

“A chapel is a place for private prayers, while a church is for congregations led by a priest.” Ath lets Ragnar take his hand within his callused one, keeping him close. 

The Vikingr’s eyes light up at the mention of a priest. Finally, something he knew something about! “A priest? A priest like mine?” 

Ragnar’s words cause a red dust to bloom across Athelstan’s cheeks. “I’m not a priest, Ragnar.” 

He shrugs. “They’re basically the same thing.” Ragnar turns and points at the marbled statue in the center of the room. “What is that? It’s not like anything you’ve told me about.”

Athelstan looks to where he is pointing and pulls Ragnar towards it with the hand the Vikingr still held onto. “This is a nativity scene!” 

He looks at him with a confused expression, suddenly lost again. “A nativity scene? What is a nativity?” Ragnar asks, the English word feeling foreign and unnatural on his tongue.

He gnaws on his thick bottom lip as he mulls over the easiest way to explain it in Norse. He sighs. “A nativity is the place of someone’s birth. And a nativity scene is a depiction of that.” Ragnar circles the statue, looking at it from every angle imaginable as if he were sizing an opponent up for a fight. He crosses his arms over his chest, pressing his elbow into the meat of his forearm, resting his chin in the palm of his hand. 

“Why?”

It’s Athelstan’s turn to feel puzzled now. “What?”

“You heard me, Ath. Why? What is the point?” 

Ath moves to stand beside him. “It’s a recreation of the birth of our Savior.”

Ragnar interrupts him. “Our savior?” he questions, voice full of snark.

“Shut it and listen,” he smacks his bicep. “It’s how the faith celebrates the birth of the son of God all year round. Every year around this time, churches will put together beautiful masses to commemorate the birth of Jesus. It’s an important symbol in the religion, making the Lord tangible for all the world. Etching it into stone makes it permanent, ensuring parishioners never forget that He was once a helpless babe like they were.” 

He doesn’t respond immediately, absorbing Athelstan’s words and attempting to understand them to the best of his abilities. “God’s son?” Ragnar squats in front of the marble baby. The stone infant slept in a pile of straw compiled within a trough, surrounded by who Ragnar assumed were his parents and extended family. Ragnar trails his finger across the babe’s cold forehead, feeling the finely chiseled details against his skin. “Is this the eldest son?”

Athelstan sits cross-cross next to him, nodding.

“Like Thor?”

Ath makes a face. “I suppose so.”

“Who are your god’s other children? Why are they not here?” Ragnar shifts to sit as well. “Why dishonor his other children this way?”

“Jesus is God’s only son.”

Ragnar chuckles. “Your god must be stupid, then. Betting everything on one son, only for him to die before having sons of his own.”

“Everything was a part of His plan, making Jesus’ death far from stupid,” Ath counters, leaning against Ragnar’s shoulder. 

The Vikingr sighs deeply. “Do you worship him still? This Jesus.”

Athelstan shrugs. “I see the Lord in the blooming of spring flowers, but I hear Thor in my ears when I run into battle beside you. I feel the Lord in the summertime breeze, but I pray to Freyja to protect my norse sisters when they enter motherhood.”

“You’re a confusing man, Athelstan. No matter how much I learn about you, you never fail to reveal something I’m incapable of understanding.” Ragnar’s words earn him a giggle from the man beside him. 

Ath turns his head, his chin digging into the soft tissue in Ragnar’s shoulder. “You’d be bored if I were any different.” Ragnar’s silence is telling, confirming Athelstan’s statement as correct. 

Ragnar doesn’t stay silent for long. He never is quiet for long, always spouting the first thing that comes to mind. “Why is there no table?”

“Table?” Ath questions. 

“The table!” he repeats as if that would clarify it. He gestures with his hands, trying to visualize the image in his head by drawing it in the air. “The table the priest hides behind!”

Ragnar’s words finally clicked inside Ath’s head. “Oh! You mean the altar?” He nods. “Chapels don’t have altars since they’re designed for individual prayer.”

“That’s a shame,” he says with a coy smirk, a devious glint in his icy-blue eyes.

Athelstan raises an eyebrow at him. “Oh, yeah? Now, why is that?” Ragnar invades Ath’s personal space, noses just barely touching. It doesn’t startle him in the slightest, having grown quite used to it in the past handful of years being Ragnar’s partner.

Teasingly, he licks the tip of Ath’s nose. He leans in, whispering hotly in his ear. “If there were a table,” Ragnar refuses to call it by its proper name, purposely to irk him, “I could bend you over and fuck you on it.” He finishes with a sultry drag of his tongue up the shell of Athelstan’s ear, biting the lobe when the younger man shudders underneath him.

Athelstan’s expression looks as if he can’t decide between being aroused or being appalled. “Ragnar!”

“What, little priest? Does the idea of fucking on your god’s table make you uncomfortable?” Ragnar slides a rough hand over one of Athelstan’s thighs. “Or does the thought of defiling your Lord’s precious altar fill you with an embarrassing feeling of desire?” Ragnar’s words are hot against his ear, drawing another shudder from him.

“Ragnar!” Athelstan exclaims, his face a bright shade of red. 

His smirk broadens as he drinks in Ath’s reaction. “Hm? Did I strike a nerve in you, my love?” Ragnar goads, teasing his hand further up Athelstan’s inner thigh, fingertips sending tingles straight to Ath’s slowly hardening cock. “Maybe I should take you right here instead, take you apart piece by piece in front of your beloved stone nativity.”

Athelstan grasps his wrist, halting his hand from edging along any further. “We can’t—I can’t. Not here.” 

“Then explain why your cock is telling me a different story, my love,” he hums, breaking free of Athelstan’s hold to cup the man’s groin in his palm. Ragnar feels his own cock twitch against his thigh. “Let me show your god exactly how I worship you.” Ragnar closes the barely-there gap between them, lips pressing against his messily, hungrily. Athelstan practically melts under his ministrations, just like always. He grips Ragnar’s wrist again, trying to keep himself grounded, or else he feels as if he might float away. 

“Ragnar, we can’t, it’s wrong!” Athelstan isn’t sure if he’s saying it to convince himself or Ragnar. Maybe both. When he’s kissing him, he can’t be sure of much. “Seriously,” Ragnar kisses him again. “We shouldn’t—” Another kiss. “We can’t!” Another kiss, this one sloppier than the rest.

Ragnar mocks him teasingly. “We can’t! We shouldn’t! It’s wrong! You should give me a real reason, little priest.” He moves to kiss down Ath’s neck, sucking on the spot he knows will make the man whimper and shiver. “Don’t try and hide how badly you want this. You know I can see right through your little disguise, sweetheart.” Ragnar squeezes Ath’s quickly thickening cock, pulling sweet, embarrassing noises from him. Athelstan’s resolve is quickly deteriorating, much to Ragnar’s pleasure.

“This is no fair; you’re no fair, Ragnar,” Ath complains, forgetting to add malice to his insult. His blush has spread down the column of his neck, making Ragnar want to suck pretty purple bruises into the soft skin there. Ragnar’s quick to act on his impulses, leaving an impossible-to-hide bruise in his wake. “What—What if someone walks in?” Ath manages to stutter out.

He chuckles darkly, the sound reverberating in his chest. “So what?” he snickers, kissing a line down Ath’s neck, roughly tugging on the neckline of his tunic so he can continue along his shoulder. “Who cares if someone finds us. It wouldn’t stop me.” Quickly finding the blue fabric irritating, Ragnar pulls it over Ath’s head and tosses it behind them without a care. Taking off his own shit as well, Ragnar pushes him to lie on his back, shoving his tunic underneath Ath’s head as a makeshift pillow. “So what if your beloved god watches me fuck you? He should be honored to watch one of his creations be so thoroughly taken care of,” he hums, his words sending another wave of sparks through Athelstan’s body.

Athelstan doesn’t have a response for him. And even if he did, he doesn’t think he’d be capable of speaking without stumbling over every word. So he stays silent to keep from embarrassing himself further. The lack of any comeback made Ragnar grin maliciously.

“Not talking, my little priest?” he asks coyly. “Now, now, why could that be? I know you’re good with your words.” As Ragnar speaks, his deft fingers quickly begin unlacing Athelstan’s trousers. “Perhaps,” he licks his lips enticingly, his grin morphing into a familiar cocky smirk, “perhaps you want me to turn you into a dirty little sinner. Maybe you just don’t wanna admit how hard the thought of defiling your beloved god’s house makes you. ‘Cause then,” Ragnar leans down to whisper in his ear, his breath hot against his lover’s skin, “you’d be a filthy heathen like me.”

All of the willpower Athelstan had mustered up ‘till down crumbles around him at Ragnar’s words, the thought alone making his pretty pale blue eyes roll backward in his skull. “Fuck, Ragnar,” he groans, his voice shaking as if he might start crying any minute. “Fuck it, fuck everything, fuck God—I need you right now!” Ath exclaims, wiggling out of his trousers and kicking them away. He fumbles with the ties on Ragnar’s pants, desperately trying to push them down his thick, muscled thighs.

Ragnar cheekily nips at the shell of his ear before helping Athelstan relieve him of his pants, leaving the pair in just their undergarments. “Didn’t hold out for as long as I thought you would, sweetheart. Are you that desperate for me to defile you? To ruin you in front of your god?” Ragnar kisses down his sternum, laving his tongue over the sparse freckles he found dotted across his lover’s chest. He teases his fingertips along the waistband of Athelstan’s underwear. “Is that right, Athelstan?” 

Instead of words, Ath whines pathetically, embarrassment flooding his senses. He felt his cock throb and leak beads of pre at the sound of Ragnar saying his name in such a lustful, inappropriate manner. “How long do you truly expect me to hold out for when you seduce me like this?” He unties Ragnar’s ponytail but leaves the braided sections alone, running his fingers through his now mostly loose locks. “You should leave your hair down more often.”

“Only if you promise to pull on it,” he says with a smirk, earning himself a deserved smack on the shoulder. With a giggle, Ragnar unceremoniously tugs down Ath’s underwear, watching intently as his cock slaps against his lover’s toned abdomen. Laying between Ath’s now spread legs, he mouths over his jutting hipbones, kissing everywhere but where Athelstan so desperately wishes he would. Ragnar lifts Athelstan’s legs to rest on his broad shoulders as his rough, weathered hands wrap around his thick, supple thighs, keeping him from squirming away. Nipping at his inner thigh with his teeth, Ragnar slowly makes his way down to Ath’s groin, littering small kisses as he goes. 

Slowly regaining his confidence, Athelstan teases him right back, gnawing on his bottom lip. “Starting to think your bark is worse than your bite, Ragnar.”

He cocks an eyebrow at him. “Oh? How so?”

“You’re going so slow it’s almost like you’ve got cold feet or something,” Athelstan smirks, egging him on.

Ragnar returns his gaze with sharp eyes, telling Ath everything he needs to know with just one look. If he wasn’t before, he’s sure in for it now. Ungentle hands spread the globes of Athelstan’s ass apart. The rush of cool air to the newly exposed skin makes his whole body shiver with anticipation. Ragnar licks a hot, thick stripe from Ath’s hole to just below his balls, drawing an unexpected yelp from him. The yelp soon turns to moans as Ragnar continues, each lap of his tongue sending his nerve endings into overdrive. Slowly working his hole loose, Ragnar slides a free hand up Athelstan’s chest, stopping when they reach his red, bite-swollen lips. “Go on, pretty boy, make them nice’n wet for me.”

He wastes no time, opening his mouth for two of Ragnar’s fingers, sucking on them fervently. Ath licks them from base to tip, acting as if they were his cock and not mere fingers. Once Ragnar deems them wet enough, he pulls them from Athelstan’s lips, a string of spit connecting them briefly before it breaks, now sticking to Ath’s chin instead. “Good job,” Ragnar hums, sliding his spit-slick fingers down Athelstan’s taint and over his entrance. “Do you feel your god? Can you feel him watching us? Watching you?” he taunts with a click of his tongue. Ragnar presses the pads of his fingers against his entrance, threatening to sink inside but never following through with it. 

Athelstan nods, embarrassment bubbling to the surface once more. 

“I don’t think he’ll still be your god after this, little priest,” he licks over his top teeth with a gross wet sound. “I think I’ll be your god instead.” With that, Ragnar presses two fingers inside him, and Athelstan’s jaw drops in a silent scream. The sudden stretch burns slightly, but he likes a little side dish of pain with his pleasure. 

Ragnar sits up, folding his legs underneath him. Athelstan’s legs are still propped up on Ragnar’s shoulders, stretching to stay up there as he moves. He unhurriedly thrusts his digits in and out of Ath’s tight hole, watching smugly as a lewd expression spreads across his lover’s face. Using his free hand, Ragnar holds Athelstan’s left leg steady, peppering light kisses along his meaty calf. 

“You can—fuck—you can add another finger; please add another finger,” he begs, fighting to keep his eyes open and focused on Ragnar. 

He chuckles, but it sounds like it came from the Vikingr’s chest instead of his throat. “What if I don’t?” The pads of his fingers just barely brush against Ath’s sweet spot, enough to tease but not enough to satisfy. “Weren’t you the one just lecturing me about how patience is a virtue?”

Athelstan huffs in frustration, mildly upset that his words were successfully being used against him. He chooses to ignore it for now, focusing on the first question posed to him instead. “I’d be upset.” He looks up at him with a devilish gaze as if he were daring Ragnar to go through with his threat. They both knew he wouldn’t. Ragnar enjoys taking him apart far too much to deprive him of it just to fulfill an empty threat. 

“Well, we can’t have that, now can we? A God has to keep his subjects happy, after all.” Ragnar slips out of him, wetting his ring finger with his own spit before pressing all three inside. Athelstan blesses his ears with a moan that sounds almost as pretty as he looks. “There we go,” Ragnar mumbles, spreading his fingers apart methodically, occasionally curling them against Ath’s sweet spot. After a few minutes, he deems Athelstan’s hole to be loose enough and pulls out, his knuckles glistening with a combination of their spit. Ragnar removes Athelstan’s legs from their home on his shoulders, motioning for him to sit up.

Quick to obey, he braces himself on the heels of his hands. Ragnar meets him the rest of the way, bending over slightly to kiss him. It’s sweeter than their previous kisses, but it’s not that way for long, Athelstan taking the lead and licking into Ragnar’s eager mouth, turning the sweet kiss into a sloppy makeout. Athelstan anchors his hands in Ragnar’s hair, tugging on it harshly, earning himself a low grumble from the older man. “Let me suck you off, love?” Ath whispers, lightly dragging his teeth down Ragnar’s neck.

He growls, the sound rumbling in his chest handsomely. “Like you need to ask.”

Athelstan wastes no time swapping positions, pulling Ragnar’s underwear down before settling between the man’s spread thighs. He doesn’t beat around the bush, far too eager to get his mouth around Ragnar’s thick cock. Laying down on the cold stone floor, Athelstan presses his face against the crease where Ragnar’s inner thigh meets his pelvis. Breathing in his scent, he lifts his head up and kisses the tip, licking a bead of pre-come off and swallowing. Holding Ragnar’s gaze, Athelstan slowly took him into his hot, wet mouth. Unable to keep his head up, Ragnar closes his eyes and revels in the feeling of Ath’s lips around him. 

“Didn’t know you had such a sinful little mouth, Ath,” Ragnar groans out, putting all his effort towards not fucking his lover’s throat ‘till he can’t speak correctly.

He simply hums around him, sending shockwaves of pleasure straight to his core. Sinking down to the base, Athelstan chokes slightly when the tip hits the back of his throat. He gradually quickens the pace as he loosens his jaw, allowing for more of Ragnar’s cock to fit down his throat. Returning the favor, Ragnar yanks on Ath’s dark brown curls, keeping him from pulling off for a few seconds. Spit and drool drip from the base of his cock and down his heavy ballsack, eventually pooling on the gray stone beneath them. Ath’s chin is also slick with spit, his beard damp and curling even more due to the moisture. 

With each bob of his head, the room echoes with sounds of him slurping and the occasional gag. One would think Athelstan had no idea he was in a church based on how he was acting, slobbering around a heathen’s cock as if it were what he was put on this Earth to do. He tongues the thick vein running along the underside of Ragnar’s cock, drawing a strangled moan from the man. Ath does it again before moving upwards, focusing all his attention on the overly sensitive head. He teases the slit he finds there, eagerly lapping up all the pre-come that had begun to dribble out. The action causes Ragnar’s cock to throb and his leg to twitch, and he’s quick to tug on Athelstan’s hair again, a silent warning that he’s close. Noticing this, he promptly pulls off with a wet pop sound. His chest heaves as he quickly tries to catch his breath.

Somehow, Ragnar looks in worse shape than Athelstan does, long hair matted against his sweaty forehead, his cock a deep shade of red and oozing pre-come. The perfect depiction of Satan’s temptations laid out in front of him, just begging for Athelstan to come and take a bite. He doesn’t think twice about going against his Lord’s wishes or what it would mean for his soul, far too enraptured in the delicious spread before him to care about some pretty garden his Lord had to offer when he could have Ragnar Lothbrok instead. Not even the King of Kings can win a fight against the King of the Northman. Ragnar beats everything his Holy Father offers him with little effort. Athelstan looks him up and down, drinking in the sight of him as if he were about to devour him whole.

Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Athelstan shuffles on his knees to straddle Ragnar’s hips, his cock bobbing enticingly in front of Ragnar’s face. The Vikingr gazes up at Athestan, taking in the beauty before him. His rough hands grab greedily at supple hips, thumbs meeting at a belly button surrounded by a thick trail of coarse hair. Ragnar feels Ath’s hungry eyes on him, an unneeded boost to his severely overblown ego. “You look good enough to eat, my love,” he digs his teeth into his bottom lip, returning Ath’s hungry gaze with one of his own.

“Good enough for a God?” Athelstan asks, voice dripping with lust.

Ragnar pretends to contemplate the question as he rolls his hips upwards to grind against Athelstan’s. “Depends on what His sinful little disciple can offer Him.”

Licking his lips, Ath splays his hands over Ragnar’s chest, tracing over long healed scars with his fingertips. “He can devote his life in service to Him.” Athelstan can’t articulate why, but speaking of himself in the third person like this stirs something within him that makes a pleasurable heat pool in his abdomen. “Devote himself to loving Him, serving Him, obeying Him.” He leans down as he speaks, slowly coming nose-to-nose with Ragnar. Athelstan shifts further down Ragnar’s abdomen, ass now nestled just above Ragnar’s cock. “Would He like that?”

Ragnar’s mouth curls in a devilish grin, grinding against his plush ass. “He’d have to renounce his previous Lord. This God doesn’t like to share with others.”

He kisses the edge of Ragnar’s mouth, knowing how it drives him mad. “Will his new Lord take care of him for eternity?” Ragnar turns Ath’s head to face him properly, his pointer and middle fingers holding his chin as he captures Ath’s lips in a heated kiss. The passion within his embrace serves as Ragnar’s answer, something Athelstan effortlessly picks up on. 

Ragnar pulls away enough to whisper against his lips, switching back to first-person language, his brain too addled with lust to adequately phrase sentences that way for any longer. “How about you make yourself nice’n pretty for your new God?”

“How does He want me?” Athelstan nips at Ragnar’s ear before kissing it, almost like an apology for biting him.

“On all fours, face down,” he slaps Ath’s ass, and Athelstan yelps in surprise, “ass up like you’re praying.” Athelstan gets off of him, but not without a furious red blush flooding from his cheeks to color his pale chest beautifully. Sitting up, he watches how quick Ath is to obey his request. It merely fuels the flames of Ragnar’s ego, making him even more eager to take Athelstan apart piece by piece and put him back together in his own image.

Ath makes a show of bending over, swaying his hips as he goes, and arching his back, making him the picture of temptation. “Like this?” he asks innocently, spreading his legs and looking over his shoulder at him, resting his weight on his forearms. 

Ragnar settles behind him, shamelessly running his hands over the globes of Athelstan’s ass. “Mmhm, just like this. Such a sinful little worshiper you are. Defiling your previous Lord’s house, throwing away your chance for holiness without a second thought.” Ragnar fists his cock, spitting on it to get it wet again. He taps it against Athelstan’s still loose hole, watching it clench desperately around nothing. 

Athelstan’s cock throbs pathetically at Ragnar’s words, sending a whole body shiver through him. He presses his ass into Ragnar’s hands, silently pleading for Ragnar to bury himself deep inside. All it accomplishes, however, is getting the Vikingr to smack his thick cock against him again. 

“I think,” he hums, pausing solely to draw out Ath’s torment, “you should beg your abandoned Lord for forgiveness.” Ragnar presses his cockhead against Athelstan’s entrance, barely dipping inside before retreating. “You are sinning in his house, after all.” Athelstan gasps at his proposition, and Ragnar takes advantage of his lover’s shock, deciding it to be the perfect opportunity to push inside him. He bullies his way inside, not stopping to give Ath time to adjust until his balls are pressed against Ath’s thighs.

“Ragnar!” he yelps, the sudden intrusion knocking the breath from his lungs. On top of having been a while since they last laid together, Ragnar’s cock is far thicker than the three fingers he prepared him with, so there’s a slight burn in the stretch as he bottoms out. “Fuck, you’re so stupidly big!” Ath whines, gripping the makeshift pillow in an attempt to stay grounded. 

He tsks at him. “That’s no way to talk to your Lord, Athelstan. Don’t you think?” Without waiting for a response, Ragnar pulls out nearly all the way, leaving just the tip. He grips Athelstan’s hips roughly, the pads of his fingers squeezing the soft, unmarred skin there.

He panics at the sudden empty feeling, immediately backtracking, determined to be a good boy for Ragnar. “No,” he choked on his words, his brain moving faster than his mouth could keep up with. “No, it’s not; please forgive me!”

“I’m not who you should be apologizing to, remember?” Ragnar goads as he sinks back inside at a gruelingly slow pace. “Or should I pull out to help jog your memory?” Keeping one hand on Ath’s hip, Ragnar sinks his right hand in Ath’s dark brown curls, tugging his head up to force him to look at the cross directly behind the nativity scene before them. “You tell me stories of how Jesus died for your sins, only for you to shame him by sinning in his chapel.”

Athelstan whimpers and whines, shamelessly canting his hips back on Ragnar’s cock. “Please don’t pull out,” he begs, sniffling. Despite how he sounds, Athelstan doesn’t think he’s ever been this aroused in all his thirty-five years of life. Made to gaze upon the man he had once dedicated his life to serving, on his knees in mock prayer, but it wasn’t Jesus he was praying to this time. It looks unlikely he’ll ever pray to the Heavenly Father or His son again after this, having found something much sweeter and far more rewarding. Something more real to Athelstan than the figure on the wall or the marble Blessed Virgin Mother in front of him ever will be.

The unmistakable sound of Ragnar snarking breaks him out of his thoughts. He’s remained unmoving since bottoming out a second time, providing a deep-seated, pleasurable pressure within Ath’s abdomen. “I’m not above using you as my own personal cockwarmer until you start begging, darling,” he threatens, only this time Athelstan knows it’s not an empty one. 

Unfortunately, Athelstan’s bratted too close to the sun more often than he cares to admit. This might end up one of those times if he doesn’t play his cards correctly. “What do you want me to beg for, Ragnar?” he questions cheekily, playing dumb, knowing exactly how to get the reaction he wants from Ragnar. 

Ragnar yanks on his hair as a warning. “You’ve been good up ‘till now, little priest,” his deep voice rumbles low in his throat, words sticky with pent-up desire, the little self-control he has left quickly deteriorating with every passing minute. “I wouldn’t go fucking it up now if I were you.” He emphasizes it with a slow, punishing roll of his hips, cockhead brushing against Athelstan’s sweet spot. “But if you don’t want me to fuck you after all, keep doing what you’re doing, sweetheart.”

The moan Ath lets out is utterly sinful, and Ragnar hasn’t begun to fuck him in earnest yet. He briefly debates his options, but it wasn’t a hard decision. Solidifying his gaze on the nailed God before him, Athelstan began to pray for the Lord’s forgiveness. “Lord, I seek Your forgiveness and healing. Help me to release the weight of the guilt and shame that I carry.”

“Aww, there we go, little priest. Beg to your nailed god,” Ragnar taunts. He pulls out again and truly starts to fuck him now, thrusting into him quickly. The hand on Ath’s hip squeezes tightly, sure to leave bruises later. Ragnar tugs Athelstan’s hips back on each thrust he gives. The chapel echoes with sounds of skin slapping against skin and Athelstan’s choked, moaned prayers. Sweat slides down the ridges of Ath’s spine and pools in the divots at the end of his tailbone. “Imagine how disappointed he must be in you, Athelstan,” he says with a yank of his hair. He drapes himself across Ath’s back so he can whisper into his ear. “Once a pious little monk,” Ragnar delivers a particularly harsh thrust, hitting a pleasurable bundle of nerves inside Athelstan. “Now reduced to a devilish sinner by a blasphemous pagan.”

Athelstan wonders briefly about where in the world Ragnar could’ve learned that word, but the arousal thrumming through his body made any coherent train of thought impossible. He was barely managing to get out his prayers, let alone anything in addition to that. “Grant me strength, ‘O—oh fuuck—‘O Lord, to learn from my previous mistakes and help me grow,” Athelstan stops mid-sentence, interrupting himself with a slutty moan. “Ragnar, Ragnar, fucking hell, you’re so deep,” he whines, rolling his hips back on each thrust he gives.

His lips curl in a cocky smile. “How’s it feel, sweetheart?” The hand in Ath’s hair twists, making him groan loudly.

“It feels s’good, Ragnar!” He moans, white-knuckling Ragnar’s abandoned tunic. Ath fights his eyes from rolling back in his head, desperate not to appear as how slutty he feels. It doesn’t work. “Harder, Ragnar, please!” He almost forgets to continue his prayers, but a perfectly aimed thrust to his prostate reminds him of his orders. “‘O Lord, I thank You for even though I am a sinner, in the kindness of Your mercy!” Athelstan feels shame flood over him and the omnipotent eyes of Jesus Christ boring into him from across the room. Judging him, condemning him, and casting him down from the light of heaven, sentencing his soul to the fiery pit of hell for eternity. But that humiliating feeling is accompanied by a shameful pleasure that greedily spreads throughout his entire body, making his extremities tingle.

Ragnar is more than happy to oblige, fucking into him at a punishing speed, hips moving at a godlike speed. Each thrust hits Athelstan’s sweet spot dead on, ripping a loud moan from him every time. “You’re still so tight, Ath.” He bites the fleshy junction of his shoulder and neck, leaving a blotchy red mark in his wake. “It’s like your god made you to be wrapped around my cock like this.” He releases his hold on Ath’s hair, moving to fist Athelstan’s red, leaking cock instead. His hand nearly engulfed his cock entirely, just the tip peeking out from above his fingers. “What do you think, hm? You think he made you just for me?”

Ath manages to nod, biting his lip so hard it nearly bleeds. He’s given up praying for forgiveness now, his mind all-encompassed by Ragnar and the arousal coursing through his veins. “Just—Just for you, always been just for you!” He cants his hips into Ragnar’s hand, needy for any and all friction he could get against his poor, neglected cock. “Please, please, please, Ragnar!” he begs, unsure exactly what he’s begging for, just that he needs more of whatever it is. 

“Please, please, please!” Ragnar mocks and Athelstan can practically see the conniving smirk he wears in his mind’s eye. “Please what, little priest? Can’t give it to you if I don’t know what it is.” Athelstan’s whole body shudders from his next thrust, eyes quickly rolling back from the intensity of it.

He opens his mouth to respond, but all that comes out are incoherent moans and slutty whimpers. “Please—oh, right there! Please, just, more, more of—fuuck—everything, please, Ragnar!” Ath’s arms give out from underneath him, his weight resting on his shoulders, cheek pressed against the cold stone floor.

“More, hm?” Ragnar slows his movements, earning himself a pathetic whine from his lover. “Even with all your pleas for forgiveness, you still want more?”

Ath nods with another high-pitched whine.

“Do you think your precious nailed god would approve of that desire?”

He shakes his head no.

“Perfect,” Ragnar growls, standing up straight once more, drinking in the sight before him as if it were the perfect cup of ale. He takes his hand off Athelstan’s cock and places it on his hip, spreading his cheeks apart with his thumb and forefinger. Reestablishing the pace he had previously, Ragnar watches his cock disappear inside him, a creamy white ring of pre-come circling his base. “I hope he’s watching when I paint your pretty insides and fully claim you as mine,” he pairs his words with a punishing thrust, far harder than anything else he’d delivered previously. “Watches me take you from him for good this time.”

Each thrust is like electricity, sending tingles from his toes to his fingertips. “Yours, Ragnar,” he hiccups, “Yours, make me yours!” 

Ragnar lands a harsh smack to Ath’s asscheek, a slightly pink handprint blooming across his pale skin. “Always have been mine, little priest. Ever since I stole you from your comfy little monastery.” He angles his hips so he hits Ath’s sweet spot with every thrust. “I wanna hear you say it. Tell your beloved god who you truly belong to.”

“You! I belong to you!” he cries, voice bouncing off the walls, echoing his shame for all close enough to hear. 

He yanks Ath’s head up, forcing him to speak directly to the cross instead of begging into the floor. Ragnar hoists him almost entirely off the floor, now barely able to graze the stone with his fingertips. “Look him in the eye when you speak, sweetheart. After all, you can’t disgrace him further by being rude, and I’m sure you don’t want that.” Ragnar’s words are soaked with liquid sin, the droplets burning a hole in the consecrated floors of this sacred building he’s corrupting with each passing minute. 

Athelstan hums a yes and repeats himself, staring into the cold, metal eyes of Jesus, his former savior, who died to atone for humanity’s sinful souls. Even though it’s only a statue, Ath felt as if it were Jesus himself nailed there, flesh and blood dripping to the floor with cold splats. He can practically see him there, gold and brown colored metal morphing into pale skin marred with rivers of red. “I’m sorry, ‘O Lord! Please bless me with your kind mercy!” he cries out in his thoughts, but deep down, he knows it’s not a genuine apology. He knows God knows as well. Ath doubts his soul will be cleansed, but he can’t doesn’t care any longer. He has a new God. 

“Tell him who you belong to.” Ragnar’s thrusts don’t let up, somehow gaining in force instead. 

Ath swallows thickly before speaking, eyebrows pressing upward, his face screwed together in overwhelming pleasure. “You! I belong to you!”

Ragnar twists Ath’s curls in his fist. “Who? Say my name, Athelstan. He might believe you’re talking about him.”

“You, Ragnar!”

“Hm? I can’t hear you, Athelstan; you’ve got to speak up, or else he won’t hear you, either,” Ragnar goads, grinding his hips hard against his ass. 

The curve of Athelstan’s spine is nearly pornographic. Ath scrambles to find something to hold onto but comes up empty-handed. “I belong to Ragnar! You, Ragnar!” he yells, stretching his arm backward to grip the back of Ragnar’s head, fingers anchoring in his hair. “Oh, my God—oh, my god fuck—I’m close, Ragnar, please!” 

Ragnar releases his grip on Ath’s hair to wrap his arm around Ath’s stomach, holding him closer than believed possible. He presses his sweaty forehead against Athelstan’s shoulder, his thrusts growing uneven and sloppy as he approaches his limit as well. “Fuck, Ath-Athelstan,” he stutters, the mask he wore cracking at the edges, revealing just how desperate he really is. “Fuuck, yes, that’s it, you’re so fucking hot like this, baby. Fucked open and needy, just for me and no one else.” Ragnar splays his fingers over the tensed muscles of Athelstan’s stomach, pressing down gently.

“No one else, all yours, my love,” Ath babbles, leaning his head back to rest on top of Ragnar’s. His chest heaves with each gulp of air he takes, the lower half of his ribs showing slightly every time his stomach sucks in. “Gonna—oh, fuck, there—gonna cum!” 

“Cum for me, Ath, make a pretty mess all over my hand, fuuck,” Ragnar moans out, words warbly and uneven as he does his best to speak without stumbling over everything. “You’re so pretty, so good for me.” His thrusts quickly lose whatever rhythm they had left as he reaches his climax, spilling his cum deep inside Ath’s spasming entrance. 

Athelstan’s cock throbs and twitches when he feels Ragnar’s orgasm, his own cum spurting all over his stomach and Ragnar’s hand. His legs shake violently, toes curling and uncurling in tandem with each spurt of his cock. The short nails of his left hand rake across Ragnar’s back and side, making the man shiver. As they both come down from their highs, a mix of Ath’s cum and sweat drips wetly onto the floor. He can feel Ragnar breathing heavily against his back, finding his equally exhausted presence comforting.

As his cock softens, Ragnar carefully slips out of him, a rush of cum quickly following. Shivering, Athelstan shuffles to turn around before Ragnar does. Now face to face with his lover, Ragnar kisses him gently, as if Athelstan would break if treated too roughly, a stark difference from how Ragnar was manhandling him a few minutes prior. He tilts his head to one side and cups Athelstan’s unmarred cheek with his clean hand, thumb stroking his sweaty cheekbone. Ath licks into his mouth, nose pressing into Ragnar’s scarred one. The kiss lasts for both years and only a handful of seconds simultaneously. Neither knows who pulls away first. “Are you okay, Ath?” he asks, rubbing his nose against Ath’s.

He nods with a hum. “Are you?” Ragnar nods, too. “Didn’t know you had that in you, baby.”

Ragnar snickers, kissing the tip of his nose. “And this surprises you?”

“Nothing about you surprises me. Not anymore.” Athelstan scrunches his nose cutely after he kisses it. “We’ll have to be quick about cleaning up; someone might come looking for us.”

Ragnar snags his tunic off the floor and uses it to wipe away the cum dripping from between Ath’s legs. “Did you mean what you said? About belonging to me and only me? Forever?” he asks somewhat quietly, the insecurity he shows uncharacteristic of him. 

“I don’t say things I don’t mean, Ragnar,” Ath says softly, his voice soothing, like a wool-lined blanket on a cold winter’s night, calming any worries Ragnar might be harboring within him. “You know that.”

Dropping his now-soiled tunic, Ragnar wraps his arms around him in a tight hug, corded muscles flexing beneath his skin. “Good; perfect. You’re perfect.”

Athelstan drapes his arms over Ragnar’s shoulders, hugging him back just as—if not more—tightly. Ragnar traces shapeless designs into the skin of Ath’s lower back, pressing soft, grounding kisses along the column of his neck. He kisses the bite mark he left, which is now starting to bruise. They slowly sink to the floor, Athelstan sitting in Ragnar’s lap, legs on either side of his waist, head resting against the lower part of his shoulder. “I love you, you know.”

“I know. I love you, too,” Ragnar says, almost as if he’s been saying it to him for decades, not years. As if every time he’s said it, it’s always been for Athelstan, even before he knew him. As if his love is reserved for Athelstan and Athelstan only. He lays his cheek on the top of his head, careful not to dig his chin into Ath’s skull. “When we go home in the spring, we’ll hold the biggest feast our halls have ever seen.”

Ath gazes up at him the best he can. “What for? What’ll we be celebrating, other than a successful return like always?”

Ragnar holds his hand, lacing their fingers together. “A wedding.”

“A wedding?” Ath questions, getting a nod in response. “Who’s?”

Ragnar breaks his gaze, looking up at the ceiling. “Our wedding.”

Blindsighted but elated, Athelstan shifts to look at him properly, refocusing Ragnar’s eyes where they belong—on him. “Our wedding?” Ragnar calmly nods like he didn’t just propose to him. “You need to work on your proposal skills, darling,” he giggles as a stupidly wide, toothy grin spreads across his face.

“Is that a yes, then?” Ragnar asks, donning a toothy smile of his own.

Athelstan holds Ragnar’s face in his hands and kisses him. “You dumbass, of course, it’s a yes.”

Ragnar kisses him again, then litters small kisses across his cheeks, chin, forehead, and anywhere else he can easily reach. “Perfect,” he kisses Ath’s lips. “Next time I take you, it’ll be on our marriage bed.”

“Ragnar!” Athelstan gasps with a slight laugh. His words made his softened cock twitch in curiosity. “You can’t just say that!”

“Yes, I can.” Ragnar squeezes his waist. “We both know you love it,” he teases, pressing his thumbs into Ath’s soft abdomen, messing up the dark hair there.

He rolls his eyes with a dramatic sigh, unlacing his hand from Ragnar’s so he can drape them over Ragnar’s shoulders again. Ath holds his own hand, lacing his fingers together. “You’re so insufferable, you know that?”

Ragnar grins cheekily, far too proud of the fact. “You love it, don’t even try and deny it.”

“What if I do deny it? What’ll you do then?” Athelstan asks, licking his lips and shifting his hips to brush against Ragnar’s cock, who’s making an effort to chub up again. 

He nips at Athelstan’s nose as a warning, a grin still spread across his face. “Something we can’t get caught doing in here, baby.” He reaches back to grab Athelstan’s tunic, blue eyes never leaving pale ones. Ath slips it over his head and stands, tugging on his trousers. Ragnar copies him, minus a shirt. They gather their things and clean their fluids off the floor as best as they can manage with the little supplies available. Once it looks like nothing sinful has occurred, the pair leaves the chapel hand in hand, eagerly heading for Ragnar’s chambers. 

taglist: @moonlighttfoxx, @demon-of-the-ancient-world, and @procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics.

[witchthewriter]

𝐁𝐣𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐬/𝐨 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞 | 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒐𝒏𝒆.

𝑯𝒐𝒘 𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝑴𝒆𝒕

⤷ female, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!  

Warnings: mentions of blood sacrifice.

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿

・You see, hear and know things that others do not. 

・Some may say they are abilities or powers, but it’s something that you were born with. 

・Your ‘powers’ made you an outsider. People were afraid of you. Of your truth. At times your mouth spoke before your mind could think, and what came out wasn’t desired by those who had heard

・For many years you wished it away. You ignored your senses and tried to be like others

・But for the life of you ... you couldn’t. 

・Vikings are a spiritual people, and the elders were much more open to your thoughts than the younger people (they thought they knew everything, whereas as you get older, you realise there’s a lot you don’t know.)

・So you had never fit in with others your age. And that made you miss out on a lot of experiences. 

・It saddened you and your family tried to make up for it as much as possible.

・Because even though your father was an odd man, your abilities didn't come from him nor his line. It came from your mother's mother and so on. It always skipped a generation. No one knew why.

・But you relied on your family for a lot, and they too relied on you. You took great solace in the fact that you always had a home. People to go to.

・As you aged, you became even more powerful. So much so, that The Seer had asked Bjorn to go out and find you - to ask your family if you would like to be mentored by the old man

・Bjorn was hesitant, since he was now rising in ranks, becoming more of a leader himself. 

・However, the Seer had seen something. And Ragnar’s firstborn had to be the one to fetch you. 

・The ride took a few hours, yet you knew exactly who was coming.

・When the sound of hooves approached, you opened the cottage door and gave the lone man a warm damp cloth to freshen himself up and when he followed you inside, he saw that there was a feast waiting.

"We thought you would be hungry," your mother called. Her braided hair a tad messy from all the flittering about she'd been doing for hours. Trying to make your home as inviting as possible.

"Oh, thank you," Bjorn said with a genuine smile and wiped the snow from his clothes.

・Your mind made life both amazing, and horrid. You could be five steps ahead of everyone else, but then they all look like you're out of your mind.

・Bjorn ate with you and your family, getting to know them with grace and diplomacy.

・This was to be your last family dinner for a long long while. Your mother, and younger sisters had lit every candle in the house, arranging them specifically to honour the gods.

・There were even offerings that you and your father had brought in this morning. And you had seen two black ravens following you the whole while.

・The blood from the rabbit sat in a bowl on the altar. Each of the family had been blessed, by you. They had given you the honours of blessing the household as well. Leaving your mark on the home.

・Bjorn sat opposite you, a fingerprint of blood on his forehead. He was exactly as you had envisioned.

'Handsome' you thought, and then came the thoughts that were not your own, 'tough, adventurous, wants to explore.'

・It was one of the things that you were gifted with... You had only been around him for less than 30 minutes and you knew what type of man Bjorn was already.

・It's why many of the townsfolk don't like you.

・Even though they come to you for help, they want to be told certain things. But you hate to lie. And if these people wanted the truth - that's exactly what you gave them.

"So, Bjorn, have you received any word from your father?" Your own father asked, one of his large hands clutched around the wooden spoon.

"Ah well, here and there," he replied in his low gruff voice.

"I have always loved the stories about your father. Ragnar will be remembered throughout history!" You cringed at the obvious love your father had for Ragnar...

・After dinner, your parents kissed you, with tears in their eyes and your younger sister squeezed you tight.

"I'll see you again soon," you mumbled into her hair as you leaned down, hugging her back.

"You promise?" She said, looking up at you with wide eyes.

"Yes, I have already seen it." Well, you could stomach to lie to those you care about.

・Bjorn thanked your family and strapped your bag to the horse, while you had one last moment with your family.

・Releasing them, you walked out the front door, from the home that you grew up in, felt safe in. And you stepped into your future.

[kilojulietsierra]

Do You Take This Man? (Ragnar the Younger x OFC - One Shot)

Started watching The Last Kingdom last week and already on season three lol Ragnar was definitly the first Dane that caught my eye

Warnings: 18+ content, they’re Danes so crude talk, marriage negotiations, mentions of violence, first time sex, outdoors sex, slightly au, pregnancy, brief mention of pregnant sex

~~~~

"Ragnar the Younger,  It would be a better match than even our father could have wished." Tovah said as he sat by the fire, staring through the flames at his sister.

"It is. I am not arguing that." She snapped back at him, "I'm not arguing the man."

"You're arguing the marriage itself then." He wiped the grease from his hands and pulled another bite of meat from the bone, "Sister I love you, I do. But, i want a woman and Gods knows I cannot suffer another one until you are gone." He laughed as he dodged a stick flying at his head. "Let me hear your argument then."

"I have no argument." She took a bite of her own food. "I only wish to make the decision myself when the time comes."

"You know the choice is yours Teeva. I only ask that... "Her brother sighed deeply, "Do not deny him just for the sake of being a pain in the ass."

~~~

Ragnar Ragnarson, son of Ragnar the Fearless, Sat across from them in the hall that their father had built. Tovah and Teeva sat on either side of the fire, Ragnar between them. A tactic. Teeva wanted to see who he would address more, her or her brother.

He was tall, strong, fearsome and handsome, all things she was pleased to see. But also annoyed, these things would all make it the harder to refuse him if his offer was anything close to respectful.

"So tell me Ragnarson, what would you have my sister for?" The pleasantries, the little that Danes bothered with, aside Tovah got to the heart of the matter. They all knew why Ragnar was here.

Ragnar held her brothers gaze, "I would have her for a wife."  He looked to her, calm and steady, "If you speak of price  I have brought silver, though I'm sure it is not enough."

"Why do you say that?" Teeva cocked her head to the side.

He spoke to her brother when he said, "I imagine there is not enough silver in all the North, Wessex or Denmark," He then spoke to her, "That could convince Teeva Tovarsdottir to become chained to a man that sought to put her in her place, to claim her and tame her."

"Then why are you here." Her voice was cold as was her gaze but her heart pounded in her chest at the way he held her gaze and quirked the corner of his mouth in a smile.

"Because I am a man who would not do these things." He leaned forward, turned his gaze on her brother. "I was there when our fathers raided Heimsdeep together." Both the siblings flinched, and Ragnar spared them a pause out of respect. "And I was there with you when his man betrayed him there."

Tovah interrupted him, "Our families have always been good and loyal allies."

"And that will not change," His eyes flicked to her and then back, "No matter how this ends."

Tovah nodded deeply, raised his cup of ale in agreement.

Ragnar continued, "I was also there at Moran's, you know this, when the son and daughter of Tovar took their revenge." This time when his eyes landed on Teeva they did not leave, did not waver. Icy green boring into hers, dark and lush like the forest. "I saw you fight with sword and shield and bare hands along side your brother, and along side your father's men. A true shield maiden."

Her cheeks warmed and she hoped it was hidden by the hues of the fire. She had no words so she only nodded her thanks at the compliment.

" Any man that would try to take that fire from her would be doing all Dane's a dishonor. She's afraid I am that kind of man but I am not."

"Then what kind of man are you Ragnar Ragnarson?" Tovah braced his elbows on his knees and leaned towards the other Dane. "What would you give her if you are not these men that would see her... tamed?"

Ragnar smiled and looked away from Tovah, answering his question but clearly speaking to Teeva. "I am a man that would see her with braids in her hair and ink on her skin. I would give her a reputation, lands, a hall, people who would follow her and respect her as they would me. I would give her a good, strong name from a long line of warriors, all of whom would smile down on a woman like this." He was smiling now, tight lipped but a smile nonetheless, creasing his forehead and the corner of his eyes.

Teeva had almost forgotten her brother was in the room, nearly jumped when he asked another question. "And what would you have her give you in return?"

Now he smiled, truly smiled, and it made her nervous. She was certain this is where her silly, fragile fantasy would end.

"I would ask only of her to give me strong sons and clever daughters, a safe hall, respect for my people, and a warm bed at night." He winked with the last, his smile wide and his eyes dancing like the fire before them. "And an extra sword at my side should I need it."

They held each others gaze for a long, silent moment, sizing eachohter up. Teevas heart was pounding in her ears.

Almost as if he had forgotten him too, Ragnar turned back to Tovah. "I know how you care for your sister, and she for you. I wish not to stamp down that fire within her, I would rather stoke it. See her become the woman the gods mean for her to be."

The men shared a long, discerning look of their own before Tovah looked to her over the fire, "Well sister, the man has said his piece, and I am for it. In my eyes this would be a match our ancestors and his would both be proud of."

Teeva studied Ragnar, now slouched back comfortably in his seat, relaxed under her gaze. Dare she say enjoying it.

When she spoke she made sure her voice was clear and strong, "Give me the night to consider."  

~~~

The small camp against the hillside was quiet, the fires doused and the men asleep in their furs. Canvas strung from tree branches made for a few simple shelters. On bare feet Teeva crept through the trees, her feet cold but light on the soft ground. She had paid attention, knew which canvas she needed.

He lay on his back, on a single, thick fur, with his arms crossed above his head and his feet propped up on his saddle. He did not snore, did not move or even twitch. His chest rose and fell  and was bare, the night air comfortable enough to sleep that way, but a second fur was draped over his lower half.

Standing a few feet away she watched for a long moment, steadying her breath, until she was sure her approach had not awoken him. Then on soft, slow feet, with a dagger in her hand she approached. She paused, within arms reach of him. Satisfied she was still undetected, she moved. Reached for his throat with the blade and to cover his mouth with her hand.

In an instant , the mere beat of a heart, she watched in panic as his eyes snapped open, his lips turned in a smile and she was on her back in the blink of those green eyes, head spinning and the wind knocked out of her.

"Shouldn't you be sleeping?" He whispered, crouching above her, keeping her pinned to the ground.

"Shouldn't you?" She whispered back through gritted teeth.

Ragnar continued to smile as he plucked the knife from her fingers and stuck in the ground next to them. "There are only two reasons for you to be here, I cannot wait to hear which it is?"

Her lungs finally full of air again she breathed deep, noticing the way his eyes jumped from her face to her chest with the motion. When his eyes came back to hers she was smiling back at him, a small, cheeky grin. "I have not made my decision yet."

He sat back on his haunches, keeping only one hand on her shoulder to keep her in place. "Decision? On if you will kill me rather than be my woman?"

"I did not come to kill you Ragnar Ragnarson."

Ragnar could not help but notice how relaxed she seemed in her position, he considered whether it was because she truly feared nothing... or only that she did not fear him. His eyes flicked to the knife again, "The knife leads me to believe otherwise, Leeva Tovarsdottir."

Her smile grew and Ragnar felt something spark within him, deep within him.

"It serves only to make a point."

"And what point was that."

"That I am in control."

He laughed, his grip on her shoulder tightening, as he fought to keep himself quiet. Again, he noticed she did not flinch away from him or his hand. "Says the one on her back."

"Is that not how you would prefer me?" Her eyes were dangerous. Daring, goading him into making a misstep and failing this little challenge of hers.

Ragnar chewed the inside of his cheek, tasting his next words before he spoke them. He let her go, plucked the blade from the earth and wiped it over his breeches. Flipping it gracefully over his fingers before offering it back to her, handle first. "I would have you many ways, all of which I would love to show you, but only if you speak plainly. Why are you here?"

Her face changed. Right before his eyes, so subtle he might have missed it in the darkness if not for their closeness. The warrior in her was gone, even for just a moment, and the girl was there. The pretty young girl, on the eve of a marriage. A nervous, beautiful, young girl.

Teeva fortified herself as much as she could, ignoring the heat in her cheeks and the tightness in her chest. "Is it so outside of reason for a girl to know?"

Ragnars face scrunched, brow furrowed in confusion, "Know what?" He still held the blade in one hand, braced against his bent knee.

She rolled her eyes and took a deep breath. Noticing with a thrill that this time Ragnars eyes held firmly to her own and did not go wandering. So, there on the ground in his little makeshift tent, surrounded by the furs still warm from his body heat, she told him the truth. "I want to know that I will enjoy it." His face did not change, his brow remained furrowed as he shook his head, still not understanding. "That I will enjoy... being married."

Still, his face remained unchanged, if anything his eyes narrowed more.

"You know... being... with the man I marry." If the earth would open up and swallow her she would have thanked the Gods.

Then, slowly, his face softened, the creases disappeared from his forehead, his eyes widened, and his smirk returned. Holding her eyes captive with his he reached for her right hand and with his own, lifted it to take the handle of the knife he still offered her. He guided her to wrap her fingers around the leather grip and took in the way her breathing had become shallow and rapid. WIthout words he moved, taking her hand that held the knife and guiding it. Until her right arm was stretched to its full length out to the side.

Ragnar, hand still wrapped tightly around hers still holding the knife, leaned in closer. He placed the tip of the blade against the earth and pushed. Slowly, steadily, together they drove the blade into the dirt. His forehead nearly touching hers he finally spoke, "Beautiful girl," His voice was low and rough, his eyes took in her face. He had never been this close to her before and even in the dark of night she was breathtaking. "If you do not enjoy it, you can take that blade and cut my throat."

Teeva gasped, her whole body trembling as Ragnar laid his body over hers and claimed her lips. Their hands fell from the handle of the dagger and found each other instead. Fingers weaving together as Ragnar nipped at her tongue and swallowed down her moans. He moved, steadily, kissing across her face to her ear, taking the lobe of it between his teeth before licking and sucking his way down her neck. "Tell me, is this what you wanted?"

"Yes." She sighed it out, tipping her head back into the furs, fighting for room to breathe. This had been her plan. Truthfully. She had snuck from the hall to lay with Ragnar, but things were not going to plan at all. She was not in control. She had meant to stay in control. Ragnar taking control of her mouth again brought her back to reality.

Her free hand, moving on some sort of baser reflex, moved to dig into his bare, muscled back. It seemed that one small movement spurred him on.

"Tell me beautiful," His voice was raspy, he was sucking in breath like a man emerging from the sea. His eyes drove into hers, "Do you want me to take you? Do you want me to show you what it will be like? To be my woman, to lay with me." His smile came back, his eyes darkened, "Did you come out here tonight to hump me?" Ragnar was near chuckling as he said it. but his one hand still held hers tight and his other was wrapped around her thigh.

She had to fight for the breath and for her voice but she answered him, clearly and truthfully, "Yes."

His smile doubled and for the second time he moved too quickly for her to stop him. Only this time she found Ragnar on his back, smiling up at her where he had her straddling his hips. "Go on then." His hands slid up her thighs to her waist but did not move further.

Again she found herself incredibly bashful, "I have clothes on." She narrowed her eyes at him, motioning to herself, "I'm fully dressed!"

"Does not matter." He chuckled. Carefully he began to move her hips with his hands, pulling her forward, "Ride me."

Her gasp, the expression on her face,  as she finally felt the hardness of him beneath her was better in and of itself than half the fucks he'd had as a young man. Her eyes snapped open wide and her hands dropped to his torso to steady herself. He did not wait, continued to move her back and forth over him, Grinding her against his hard cock, watching in awe at the faces she made. Her fingers dug into his torso and he had to grit his teeth to control himself. "Keep going." A groan escaped him as she pressed down against him harder, "Just like that."

Soon she was speeding up, his grip on her no longer controlling her movements. To be honest, Teeva herself, was not even in control of her movements. Her hips moved on their own, chasing whatever that wonderful, tingling sensation was deep between her legs. She was leaned down low over him, her hips rocking back and forth erratically over the press of his cock, the friction of their clothing between them helping her along, "Oh shit, oh... oh gods... what..."

Ragnar snarled through bared teeth, "Yes, you feel it, chase it." He surged up to kiss her, sinking a hand deep into her loose hair and taking a firm grip, moving her how he wanted her. Their mouths clashing together, all teeth and tongues as she moaned and whimpered through her release. Her short nails dug into his sides, hard enough he thought she may truly have drawn blood and a deep, uncontrollable shiver ran the length of his spine. "Gods you are a gift Teeva." He muttered the words against her lips. "So," He kissed her again, "Tell me pretty girl," He kept his hand in her hair, holding her tight, his other hand loose on her hip. "Do you want my cock? " He rolled his hips beneath her and revelled in the way she responded in kind, "Let me show you, hmm," He tugged on her hair, hard enough to tip her head back so that he could mouth greedily at the side of her neck, "Let me show you what I have for you." He rolled his hips again. "Let me show you how I will fuck my wife."

~~~

She was still naked and trembling slightly under the fur, though she was not cold and no longer nervous.

Ragnar lay next to her, propped up on one elbow while his free hand, his sword hand, traced unreadable patterns over her bare back. "So, Teeva, daughter of Tovar," He whisper against the back of her neck as he leaned into her, his hand splayed wide over the small of her back. "What have you decided? Hmm?" He kissed her there and then kissed his way to the shell of her ear, "Have I humped you well enough?" He sucked her earlobe between his lips and smiled when she shivered, "Have I swayed you? Would you marry me? Hmm. Can I have you in my bed every night, pretty girl? Make you my own and let you ride my cock whenever you please?" He chuckled as she groaned a little beneath him, half halfheartedly rolling away from him.

"Stop teasing."

He could not help the wide smile then, tugging her to him and rolling her onto her back. "Never." Ragnar reached a hand up to her face and held her, moving his thumb up to smooth the worry from her brow. "You should know, if you deny me now I'll have no choice but to kidnap you."

Teeva snorted out a laugh but leaned into the touch, "Oh really?"

"I swear it." He kissed the corner of her eye, "You are fierce and strong, beautiful beyond my words," He waited for her to relax and then continued, "And even now, spent as I am, you have my cock harder than forged steel."

She shoved him then, glaring but inside celebrating that such a feared and respected man let her handle him this way. Her eyes fell to the knife she had brought still stuck in the dirt at the edge of his furs, where he had left it, well within her reach if she had needed it. "Are all men this insatiable?"

He did not hesitate to respond, "Only when our women are this irresistible." He winked at her and in return she rolled her eyes. "Tell me now woman, will I ride out of here with you as my wife, or as my captive?"

"You will have to wait and see tomorrow won't you Ragnar Ragnarson?" She kissed him and then crawled out from under the furs to dress as quickly as she could. Hard to do with his hands and lips working against her every step of the way.

~~~

"Earl Ragnar, i hope you slept well." Tovah greeted him and his men as they entered the hall the next morning.

Ragnars eyes did not waver from her brother, but Teeva saw the corner of his lip pull back. "Very well, considering I have been anxiously awaiting an answer." When he did look her way Teeva revelled in the way it made her want to blush and hide as much as it wanted to make her smirk and stand up tall.

After last night she was certain of it. Ragnar was a man that would not treat like a cow to be bred or a slave to keep his hall. He would keep her as his wife, respect her, honor her, fight for her, father her strong sons and clever daughters. He would put her to bed every night satisfied and love her every day of his life. Here and in Valhalla.

Tavah laughed and stood to take Ragnar by the shoulders, "Then you'll be happy. My sisters first words to me this morning were that she accepts the marriage."

Ragnar embraced the slightly older Dane back and smiled, "The gods have honored me," He looked to her then, catching her eye as he continued, "more than I deserve." Ragnar looked back to her brother, slapping him hard on the back as he stepped away and towards Teeva. With a steady hand  he cupped her face gently and stroked his thumb over her brow just as he had done last night, "And I promise to live every day of my life so that I honor you in return."

The look in his eyes took her breath away as much as his words had. It was a struggle to speak as she wrapped her hand around his sturdy forearm and met his gaze, "I look forward to it."

~~~

Teeva was laughing so hard that she could hardly breathe, watching as her brothers men and Ragnars men... her husbands men, drank and played games in celebration. Watching as half a dozen men went stumbling through the fire pit and falling on their asses. She laughed as her brother and Ragnar, her husband, laughed and cheered and embraced each other in victory.

Ragnar stepped aside and accepted a mug of ale, still laughing as he raised it to his lips, but he caught her eye as he drank. She was staring at him and married or not he saw the faintest blush at her throat at being found out. She did not look away though and that made his blood sing through him. Leaving others to their games he crossed the yard to where she sat by a fire. Her eyes held his the whole way.

"You certainly look like you're enjoying yourself." She greeted him with a jest and a smile.

Without hesitation he took a knee before her where she sat, placing himself between her legs and leaning into her, his arms braced against the chair on either side of her thighs. From this position he was only a few inches away from her but had to tilt his chin up, just slightly, to look at her. "And you, sitting here with your bright smile and flushed cheeks, hmm? Are you enjoying yourself? Watching?"

"Am I not allowed to enjoy watching? My husband?" She sounded braver than she felt as she spoke, her fingers reaching out to toy with the end of Ragnar, her husbands, beard.  

A growl rose low in his throat as he leaned in closer, tugging her to the edge of her seat to meet him,  "Say it again."

She lifted the hand not holding her drink to cup his jaw, "My husband."

"Say it louder." Her pulled her flush against him, until she was barely in the seat.

If he had not been looking at her the way he was, she would never have done it. But, his eyes were burning for her and his grip was tight so she raised her voice, "My husband!"

In one easy movement, as if it was nothing, he stood with her, his arms under her ass and hoisting her up until she was at least two heads above the rest of the crowd. "Louder!"

She did not hesitate. With one hand at the back of his head to hold herself steady, eyes still locked with his, she raised her horn of ale in the air and yelled, "My husband!!"

An echoing roar of cheers and laughter rang through the hall and the yard as their people celebrated with them.

Rather than letting her down, Ragnar turned and sat in the seat she had just been sitting in, letting her settle so that she was straddling his lap. Still smiling ear to ear he kept one hand on her ass and stole her drink with the other. He finished the ale in one long gulp and then slammed the horn down next to him, his eyes never leaving hers. "Kiss me wife."

Which she did, her left hand still rested at the back of his head, under the base of his braid, and she used it to pull them together.  

The kiss was short and sweet and Ragnar was not having it. When she pulled away he trapped her in his arm. She would say he snarled if it hadn't been so full of adoration, "Like you mean it woman."

The comment earned him a bite on the cheek but the second kiss was well worth it. Teeva pressing herself fully against him as she allowed him to ravage her mouth, giving as good as she got.

~~~

When she woke the next morning the fire had burned low, down to glowing embers, and she knew it was only Ragnar behind her that kept her from shivering. Her eyes focused slowly, her head hurt from the ale, but she glanced around the hall. None of the others had stirred yet. So, carefully, she made to move but the strong arm around her flexed and held her tightly.

"Don't move." He whispered in her ear. She froze. "I'm comfortable." He breathed out a nearly silent chuckle as she relaxed against him, dropping a kiss to her shoulder as she settled back into him.

"The fire is going to die." She whispered over her shoulder. When he did not respond she opened her mouth to say it louder only to  have his hand cover her mouth.

Now wide awake, eyes blazing as he turned her to face him. She glared daggers at him.

Ragnars eyes were still half lidded when he mouthed the word, "Hush." Then he removed his hand from her mouth, replacing it with his lips for a fleeting moment before closing his eyes and settling back into the furs spread over the hard, wood floor.

Quieted, but still outraged she turned slightly and bit him hard on the shoulder, clamping down on the skin through the fabric on his tunic.

His eyes shot open, his teeth gritted, bared as he let out a silent hiss at the pain. Ragnar dug his hand in her sleep mussed hair and pulled her face blush with his, whispering harshly, one word through still gritted teeth, "Vixen." Then he was shoving his tongue into her mouth and stealing any smart remarks she may have had before she could say them. Once she was thoroughly breathless he whispered to her, lips brushing the apple of her cheek. "My head hurts. Be quiet, lay down, and let me enjoy having you in my arms."

Her anger, fleeting as it was, dissipated and she dropped a feather light kiss to his lips. Letting out a long, content sigh as Ragnar smiled, closed his eyes, and brought her to lay her head on his chest. Soon finding herself dozing off to the solid, steady beat of his heart and the feeling of his rough fingers massaging her scalp where his hand was still buried in her hair.

~~~

It was a long journey to Dunholm. Many miles spent in the saddle and many nights sleeping on furs laid on the ground. It was worth it though when she topped the final ridge, and she saw it for the first time.

Ragnar had pulled his horse to a stop beside hers as she took it in.

It was bigger than she had imagined, an imposing fortress high on a hill, visible from miles away but impenetrable. Ragnar had told her the story of how they had taken it, how he had claimed his revenge on Kjartan. Teeva knew this stronghold was a source of pride for her husband, and now for her too.

With his usual, tight lipped but soft smile, Ragnar stepped his horse sideways. Moving until his leg was pressed against hers, the horses shoulders pushing together. He placed his right hand on the top of her horses rump and leaned into her space. Her hair brushing his temple as he spoke, "Well, what do you think? Does it suit you? What does Teeva, wife of Ragnar Ragnarsson say about her new home?"

Teeva smiled, turned her head just enough to press their foreheads together. "I will hold my judgement until I've seen the state of the inside."

Ragnar laughed loudly and stole a quick kiss. "We hurry on then."

As the gates swung open Ragnar once again came up close beside her, hand on her saddle and lips against her ear, "Welcome home."

~~~

"Have you night tired of me yet lord?" Teeva laughed, fighting to catch her breath.

Ragnar let out a sound, half groan half laugh. "If you want me to tire of you, you should stop making such pretty sounds while my cock is inside you." To prove his point he thrust into her, hard, moving her further up the bed with the motion, drawing one of those beautiful little gasps from her throat. "See, like that." He began to pick up his pace again, nearly snarling in pleasure as she clawed at the back of his thighs. Urging him forward. Her volume increasing with every snap of his hips.

He still lay on top of her, his cock softening and her fingers massaging the muscles in his back,  when they both heard footsteps on the steps outside their rooms. Ragnar growled in annoyance and buried his face in her neck. Choosing to ignore the coming intrusion, instead enjoying the heaving of Teevas chest beneath him and faint aftershocks of her fluttering cunt.

"Ragnar, if you love me, you will kill whoever is about to come to our door." Her fingers moved to the back of his neck and into the loose, disheveled blonde hair he had yet to pull back. As it was far too early to be out of bed.

The Dane chuckled and mouthed at her neck, groaning with the effort of pulling away from her, out of her. He paused, braced above her on solid, swordsman's arms and dropped his forehead to hers, "As my lady wishes."

The knock at the door surprised neither of them, they remained silent. Staring into each others eyes with matching, mischievous smirks. Then from outside, "Earl Ragnar?" was followed by another, louder knock.

Ragnar chuckled, soft puffs of air escaping his nose, and moved to kiss the ink at his wife's temple. A symbol to match his own. Then with more energy and more grace for  a man so large, and no longer so young, jumped from the bed grabbed his sword from it's belt striding across the room and  opened the door.

The younger Dane was surely shocked to see his chief opening the door sword in hand, naked, cock still half hard and nothing but  the scars and ink markings on his chest to cover him.

With a straight and serious face Ragnar spoke, "My wife has instructed me to kill whoever is on the other side of this door. This is your one chance to change my mind. Speak plain and fast." Ragnar heard Teeva behind him laughing quietly but his face remained hard.

"Forgive me sir, but Uhtred Ragnarson is riding to the gate."

With just a nod of his head Ragnar sent the boy away, his face breaking into a smile as he swung the door shut. Approaching his wife and their bed again, leaning is sword against the wall beside it. "This will be a good day."

"And why is that?" Teeva sat up in bed, pulling the furs around her against the winter cold, welcoming Ragnar into them as he came back to the bed.

Pushing her down to her back he kissed her, then kissed her throat, and her breast. "Because," he looked up from where he was pressing kisses over her belly, his large, rough hands cradling the small bump there, "My wife, the love of my soul is growing another strong, fair haired, green eyed, fearsome son in her belly." He crawled the length of her naked body to kiss her. And when he pulled away he was still smiling, "And today is the day my little brother finally comes back to be where he belongs"

~~~ The End ~~~

First time writing for this fandom but I already have a few ideas for other stories! Thank you for reading and let me know what you think!

[vikingsmasterlist]

Fates of Blood

(Ragnar x OFC) 

One

Two

[bravo4iscool]

task force 141 x modern!military!vikings!AU

(idk what possessed me to write this🧍🏼)

(also i don’t really know anything about the norwegian army so… this is probably very inaccurate💀)

tag list - @bumblebeesfromvenus @yazt09 @blackhawkfanatic @hatterripper31

(masterlist overview | vikings masterlist | call of duty masterlist | join my tag list!)

they weren’t a normal task force. they were anything but normal. yet, they were dangerous. more dangerous that one might like.

captain price was surprised when he was told he would work together with them. he’d heard about them. they were the pinnacle of the european task forces, just behind the 141.

but he didn’t know anything about them. no one did. they were a tale, a faint whisper in the wind. they came and they went with the shadows, another body added to their count.

price had briefed his boys on that task force—they didn’t even know its name—and now he was keen on meeting them. the mission must be hard if they needed the 141 and them.

he’s standing on the tarmac, waiting for their guests to arrive. simon is standing beside him, his hand resting on his vest. they didn’t even had time to properly change into their uniform before he’s been told their guests would arrive.

a few minutes later a chopper touched down and price straightened his back. here they’d come. there was a slight frown on his face as he took in the men (and a woman) who walked towards him.

they were tall, as tall as simon at least, and they were broad. strong shoulders and big arms. almost every single one of them had a heavy beard. probably normal in norway, price thought.

they came to a hold in front of price and simon and one of them extended his hand. “captain price, i’m captain lothbrok.” price nodded and shook lothbrok’s hand.

“a pleasure to finally meet you,” price smiles before he looks at simon. “this is my lieutenant, simon riley.” simon let out a small grunt and nodded at the soldiers in front of him. they looked good, skilled.

lothbrok nodded and started to introduce his people. “my ex-wife, lagertha, she’s my lieutenant,” he starts and price’s eyes widen. ex-wife? “that’s my second lieutenant, bjorn, he’s my oldest son.” son? “and those are my other sons, and sargeants. ubbe, hvitserk and sigurd.“ other sons?

price can’t help but notice the one man—he looked very young—in the wheelchair. lothbrok notices the captain’s gaze. “oh, that is my youngest, ivar, he’s our strategist and tech guy,” he explains, resting his hands on his own vest.

simon grunts again, “you’re all family?” he couldn’t really believe it. what kind of family managed to form a task force on their own. how did they all pass training?

lothbrok grins. “we are. hard to believe, huh,” he laughs.

“johnny’s gonna have a field day with this,” price mumbles before he shows his guests inside.

-

“okay, let me get this straight,” johnny looks at bjorn. “your father and your mother were married and had you and your sister, then he cheated and your parents broke up and your father married the woman he cheated with and now you have four half brother?”

bjorn shrugs and looks at the chicken wing in his hand. “pretty much. it’s a long story.”

“and your mother and father like, don’t want to kill each other?” johnny couldn’t quite grasp the history that surrounded this task force. how did it came to be and how was it allowed?

bjorn shrugs again, “ivar and my mother clash from time to time but that’s it.” he looks up from his chicken wing. “but that’s not why we’re here. we have a russian to capture and that’s what we should focus on.”

johnny nods and takes a bite off his own chicken wing. “what do you know about your target?” there hasn’t been an official briefing yet but johnny was eager to know who they were dealing with.

“i’ve heard a lot about you lieutenant riley,” lothbrok says at another table while he takes a sip of water. “you’re famous among the norwegian army.”

simon purses his lips beneath the mask. “is that a compliment, sir?” he wants to know and lothbroks laugh.

“it is a compliment lieutenant,” he muses. “there aren’t many people with a record like yours. captain price must be proud to have you.”

price quietly grunts, “i am proud. simon is an important asset to our team,” he explains. “and please, call me john. everyone does.”

lothbrok nods. “then call me ragnar.”

-

“if you take advantage of this hill here and charger from on top, rather than from the side, you’ll have a significant advantage,” ivan explains while he points to the map on the screen. “if anything they’ll expect you to enter from this side—“ he rolls his wheelchair to the other side of the screen. “—but if it’s as it looks they barely have any security here—“ he moves his wheelchair again, pointing to a different entry. “—so you could technically just walk in there:”

once he stops talking he looks at the others, waiting for an answer. bjorn purses his lips and walks towards the screen. “what about those woods here? what if they have reinforcements there?” he looks at his youngest brother, a slight scowl on his face.

“good question bjorn,” ivar mumbles before he rolls towards his laptop to zoom in on the woods. “i tried to find out if they have any secondary bases in the woods but it’s practically impossible…” he sighs. “we could send in a drone before we charge though.”

“how close do we need to get you?” ragnar asks, scratching his beard.

ivar types a few things in his laptop before he looks at his father. “a few clicks, not too close.” he goes back to typing and ragnar steps in front of the screen.

“what do you think john?” he asks and turns around. “you will be leading after all.” he crosses his arms in front of his chest, waiting for price to speak up.

the captain purses his lips and steps beside ragnar. “it’s a good plan. ivar thought it through perfectly.” price looks at simon johnny and gaz. “what do you think? simon, will you be able to cover us?”

simon nods. “will be possible, yes.”

“sounds like a solid plan,” gaz approves, his arms crossed in front of his chest.

johnny purses his lips before he nods too. “what could go wrong?” he smirks.

-

ragnar walks through the plane, checking with lagertha and his sons. “hvitserk, sigurd, you will go with ivar,” he instructs his son, clasping their shoulders. “once he’s done you’ll join us.”

hvitserk stretches his neck and flexes his fingers around his gun. “copy that.” sigurd confirms his fathers commands with a subtle nod.

simon follows those interactions with watchful eyes, curious of how the mission would play out. ivar clearly was a strategic genius and if his family was as good in the field as he was told this mission could only go easy.

“ubbe, you’ll go with lieutenant riley. you’ll both cover us.” ubbe shoots simon a look and the lieutenant nods. ubbe seemed like a calm soldier. should be easy.

once everyone knew their role they got their green light and jumped out of the plane, even ivar. he had his crutches on his and was strapped to hvitserk’s back.

this has potential for a pt.2🧍🏼

[the-kittylorian-writes]

🔹Fic Update: “If Ever We See The Dawn” 3/5🔹

For @ailesswhumptober multiple prompts: day one, day six, day thirteen, alt prompt: shock collar (day twenty-twon as well but will include that tag in the update on the day itself ☺️)

(P.S. Total chapter number change 😅)