#ritual-unions-gotme

[serasvictoria]

@ritual-unions-gotme asked for

Okay I picked one 😈 “I told you, you would eventually start begging” for Ubbe

First off, apologies for taking so long to fill this request. I typed out 4k in words in no time and after that it was nothing but crickets followed by some random spurts over time, but I finally finished it! Hurrah!

Title: Lose My Breath

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 15.315 😅

Summary: When you took a job at Lothbrok Kvinde, a porn company that’s run by Aslaug Lothbrok, you never once thought that one day you’d be working with her son, Ubbe, one of the company’s hottest commodities. Completely unbeknownst to everyone, he has played a starring role in all of your fantasies for quite some time. So the question now is, will you be able to cope when fantasy becomes reality?

Notes: Huge thank you to @punkrocknpearls for beta’ing this for me. You really helped me make this absolutely perfect ❤️

Also, this got ridiculously long (hence why it took me ages to finish this prompt) and also why I am only going to be posting this on AO3. A lot of it is backstory, which I love, and the smut is… well… read at your own peril I guess? Not gonna lie, it’s a spicy one.

This is also in no way an accurate view of the porn industry.

Naturally on the day you were due to start filming, you were a bundle of nerves.

Aslaug had sensed it perfectly and had done her best to make you feel better. Your workload had been lessened significantly and Aslaug had given you a longer lunch break than usual, even if you had barely been able to eat anything. She had also assured you multiple times throughout the day that her son would take perfect care of you, but it hadn’t exactly helped ease your nerves.

It wasn’t the fact that soon there would be a video out there of you having sex. If you had a problem with porn videos, you wouldn’t have taken this job to begin with.

No, it was the fact that Ubbe Lothbrok was going to be the one that you would be having sex with.

The man existed on a whole other level from you. You had seen all of his movies so you were well aware of the type of women that he was usually paired up with and you definitely didn’t fit that bill. What if you were a disappointment? Or even worse, what if you didn’t manage to turn him on? He was a consummate professional, but that didn’t mean that something like that couldn’t happen.

Oh god.

This wasn’t good. You wanted to throw up, even though you had already done that about an hour ago.

Read it on AO3!

Tagging @adrille88 @actual-queen-of-hell @youbloodymadgenius @zuxiezendler @whenimaunicorn @grimeundglow @istorkyou @underragingwaves @quantumlocked310

[ofmanderley]

IN DEPTH FANDOM QUESTIONS 

@ritual-unions-gotme asked: Top 5 favourite characters? ( early seasons ) Rollo [ 1 / 5 ]

[therealvikingstrash]

Fic Rec for the Vikings Fandom

I decided to make a little list of completed fics I enjoyed so far and wanted to share them with you all! I know not everyone has the same taste, but maybe you find an author in here you want to read more of. I’ll link the title of their fic to AO3 and the account name will lead to the version on tumblr. (the pictures used for my header are from @underragingwaves and pinterest.)

The list will appear under the cut. Please be so kind, if you read it take the time to give some love on both sites 💕

Brother by ritual-unions-gotme - T - 5,594 Words

This fic was one of the first I read on tumblr I think and I still love it so much, because of how well written and in character it is.  

Summary: Tired of watching his mother struggle after the disappearance of their father, eleven year old Ubbe with the help of his younger brother Hvitserk, set out on an adventure to find their father, the great Ragnar Lothbrok.

Summer Wine by underragingwaves (captainkilly) - M - 7,170 Words

I was pointed towards this fic and have not regret reading it! The author has a very unique way with words that will drag you in and hold you captive while reading- in the best way! 

Summary: Hvitserk takes more from the Alteciras raid and carries it all the way home.

I’ve got Dreams to Remember by serasvictoria - E - 8,244 Words

You’re in for a treat with this fic! Incubus!Hvitserk and lots of fun in a well-written story that’ll melt your brain.

Summary: A certain young man keeps showing up in your very x-rated dreams.

A Beautiful Chaos (Pride Month ‘21) by punkrocknpearls - E -  21,353 Words

Normally not an RPF fan, but the author is so talented I can’t not read it! This story is part of a whole ‘verse, that you can find here.

Summary: finding someone who can help you find your inner wildness is sometimes the best way to find your inner peace.

Cruor and Conquests by quantumlocked310 - E - 3,024 Words

The author has a very talented way of painting pictures in your mind while reading. This one might be a bit gory, but it’s very hot too which makes up for the bloody part a lot.

Summary: You and your love, Hvitserk, rejoice together in the throws of passion after a gory and glorious battle.

Mine & No One Else’s by deans-ch-ch-cherrypie - T - 3,538 Words

With the author being a Hvitserk fan, I certainly love that she also writes Ubbe well! And damn, possessive Ubbe is just very nice, okay?

Summary: You’ve caught the attention of an insistent earl and the situation is testing your best friend Ubbe’s patience.

Kiss You Godless by pomegranates-and-blood - E - 8,535 Words

Very, very hot sub! Hvitserk and the angst is chef’s kiss!

Summary: Hvitserk agreed to a no-strings-attached arrangement without thinking twice about it. Now, almost eight months into it, he finds himself lingering for too long on the curve of your smile and the sweetness of your voice. It probably means nothing, right?

Of Sniffles and Broken Bones by niishiki - T -  17,052 Words

Really, really loved this story! The bonds between all four brothers and how they interact is written so well and even though it’s a modern AU they’re all in character.

Summary: A short 4-Chapter fic about the Sons of Ragnar being sick or injured.

-

let me know if you’d like more of these kinds of posts!

[wlfkssd]

A Palm Touch

based on the prompt ‘ubbe + palm touch’ sent in by @ritual-unions-gotme <3

summary : a short piece about ubbe and torvi taking floki and the kids to the beach in the golden land. and some palm touching. 

warnings : mentions of children dying ( asa, hali and angrboda ), mentions of helga’s death, mentions of floki’s failing memory ( which i presume is dementia ), brief mention of torvi being pregnant again.

pairing : ubbe x torvi.

words : 1,013.

Days such as these in the Golden Land feel almost like dreams. From the flourishing settlement they've built, close to Floki's treehouse, it's only a short walk down to the shore. Unlike Norway, or more specifically the harbour in Kattegat, there is no wind most days and the salt from the sea doesn't mark the fair skin of the children's faces. In fact, the only things that do are the red or white stripes of paint, put there often by the Natives.

Ubbe carries his son, Ragnar, on his shoulders - as his father often did when he was a child - and allows him to catch a leaf here and there from the slightly higher branches of the trees that line the well-used trail. He's always shown them immediately; marvelling at their wonderous colour. Greens in summer, browns in autumn and nothing but cold, bare twigs in winter.

Torvi walks in her husband's wake with their daughter on her hip. Floki lags behind one or two steps, making faces so as to bring laughter to the little girl. There's no sweeter sound than that echoing about the woods.

"You can hold her, if you want, Floki. I trust you." Torvi stops and turns, eyes devastatingly caring. For a moment, she can see him considering it.

"No, no. Why would I want to do that?" Floki almost recoils though; voice whimsical. His face scrunches as his head tilts, once broad shoulders now dwarfed by a huge blanket to keep him warm despite the humidity. "I don't even like children, anyway."

The look that passes between them is one of absolute knowing. And then Floki laughs - that contagious little snicker - to signal he's not going to explain further. But Torvi knows that the death of his own daughter and the loss of Helga at the hands of a child she tried to help still holds firm in whatever memory remains.

"That is a shame. We might have named our second son after you." Turning back, Torvi continues on down the path, watching her step and hearing the giggles of her child.

A while later, they're settled and the sound of the waves brings about a peace unlike life ever allowed back home. Here, there is no more war. No more death.

"I don't know if you ever visited the Seer in Kattegat but it was practice to lick his palm." Ubbe tells her, smiling, both hands preoccupied with one of Torvi's as they lay beside each other, midday sun warming their tanned faces. He moves her fingers across the sky, using the spaces between them to let the light through, then blocking it again with her palm. It almost feels like a game Ubbe could play forever.

"Would you lick my palm for a prophecy?" Torvi jokes. Fingers of her free hand, closest to her husband, lazily play with the short hairs at his forehead.

"I would do anything you ask." His response seems subconscious as Ubbe traces the lines on Torvi's palm as though he were Floki; respecting each and every soft groove like the keel of the most beautiful ship. Almost as an after-thought, he brings her hand down for a lasting kiss. One that turns to two, then three as weather-chapped lips make their way up and up and up until he's half rolled over and leaning in to press their noses together. To breathe in one another.

"Stay close to your brother, Helga!"

Ubbe's attention turns from Torvi to where Floki sits, wrapped in his blanket a little ways across the beach. Thin-boned hand gesturing and Torvi's eyes follow as she sits up, slowly.

"You know, perhaps we should tell him one day that her name isn't Helga." Torvi remarks, gaze drawn to the children, playing in the shallow waves by the ocean's edge. They laugh and splash one another; Ragnar's hair having grown long enough for his sister to pull now. Ubbe grunts beside her, focus still upon the old man.

"Don't you think he's been through enough? Let him call her Helga if he wants to." Ubbe shrugs, clear eyes turning up to squint against the sun. He's outstretched, propping his weight on his elbows. An ankle resting easily atop the other as they lounge together upon the dry sand of the golden beach. "Who is it harming, hm?"

"Nobody, I suppose, but himself. Isn't that why we agreed not to call her Lagertha?"

Torvi has a point and Ubbe can't argue with it. Instead, he adjusts himself to sit properly as well, reaching over to lay a protective touch to the bump barely showing at her stomach. "You're right. But I don't think it would make any difference. His mind is worse these days. Do you really want to upset him like that?"

"I don't want to upset him at all but I'm afraid. One day she will ask who Helga is and will you be the one to tell her?" Ubbe catches her worried glance and keeps it. Though they may be some years apart in age, their minds work in very similar ways. He leans to kiss Torvi's hair.

"If I am the one she asks, then yes. I will tell her." He murmurs, lips still close to the crown of her head, before easing away and smiling again. "What do you think we should call this one?"

For a moment, Torvi only blinks. Then she sighs and lets him change the subject; adding her own warm and stroking touch above his on her belly.

"I don't know. Perhaps if it's a boy, we should call him Bjørn. After all, it is because of him that we are together like this." Much as it hurts to admit - and it really does hurt - Ubbe once again cannot deny that Torvi is right. Though they both still mourn the loss of Asa and Hali, the grief lessens with each passing day; the future they have together blossoming from the ashes of their shared tragedies.

"And if it is a girl?" Ubbe asks.

"Then we will call her Helga."

[golddaggers]

“But you’re here, so stay.” from the scared romantic moments for our boy Ubbe 😘 please

oooo this is going to be fun to write 😭 im a sucker for sickly sweet ubbe

[quantumlocked310]

Just stopping by to say that I love your moodboards, they are so creative and pleasing to the eye 💕

Awww!! Thank you so much for stopping by to tell me!!! 🥰💖💞

[vikingsbigbang]

The Last Dance

Author: @ritual-unions-gotme | Artist: @losermultifandomidiot, @vikingstrash

Rating: Teen and Up Audience | Word count: 12,417

Warnings: Graphic Description Of Violence

Summary: The moments leading up to King Ragnar’s disappearance are chaotic and strange; seen through the eyes of two Frankish slaves, Fina and Amaury, they find solace in the young princes, Hvitserk and Ubbe. Together friendship and loyalty shields them all against the unsettling transition into adulthood.

Created as part of the Vikings Big Bang 2022 @vikingsbigbang2022

[e-m-christina]

Ivars Affection Would Include:

Warnings: Lots of fluff and some smut.

Requests are open.

MASTERLIST

Ivar was very affectionate towards you.

Under that tough exterior he was the cuddliest person you had ever come across - though he would never let anyone but you see that side of him.

He wasn't good at putting his emotions into words, so he would show his love for you through physical affection.

To put it simply; if he did not receive a minimum of three kisses by lunchtime, he would be in a bad mood for the rest of the day.

He would wake up before you, just so he could hold your sleeping body.

You often would wake up to him stroking his fingers down your spine.

Or covering your face and neck in light kisses.

Or because he had his face between your legs.

He loved to cuddle. A lot.

He preferred being the big spoon because liked having you in his arms to make sure you were safe and protected.

But sometimes he would be the little spoon - usually on nights when his legs were particularly painful or when he had a stressful day.

He loved to sneak up on you and hug you from behind. He liked this for two reasons. One was because he liked to surprise you with hugs and kisses. But the second (and biggest) reason why he loved this was because it gave him full access to kiss and nibble your sweet spot on your neck, whilst letting his hands freely roam around your breasts.

Talking of breasts, he loved them.

If he wasn't staring at them, he would be touching them, kissing them, or squeezing them.

He also loved kisses.

Kisses in the morning.

Kisses in the afternoon.

Kisses at night.

He would wake you up in the middle of the night, just to kiss you.

He loved to lightly peck you on the lips in the morning.

He loved to kiss you roughly with all the hunger in the world in between meetings.

He loved to kiss you slowly and passionately in the dead of night.

He loved the hot and sloppy kisses you shared as he thrust deep inside you.

He loved trailing kisses down your soft skin.

He loved to plant kisses on your inner thighs, watching your squirm under his touch.

He also loved being inside you.

Whether it be on his throne, in the bed or on a table.

He loved to hear your moans as he thrust deep and hard inside of you, making your legs shake.

He loved how your body would respond to his touch, whether it be when he trails his hands down your soft thighs or when he kisses and gropes your breasts.

The way you whimpered and moaned for him to go deeper drove him crazy.

He loved to hear you scream his name - and every night he made your screams known throughout the whole building.

To put it bluntly, he would go mad without your touch.

-----

@youbloodymadgenius @krissydclayton93 @peachyboneless @1950schick @therealcalicali @the-blue-dalek @xceafh @pieces-by-me @ietss @spring-edlothia @stillsoloststillsolonely @poisonedjoinery @prunelsg @pomegranates-and-blood @revolution-starter @profoundtyrantharmony @ibenkastberg  @xvxcarolinexvx @springsoulofengland @lady-valkyrie-blog @ritual-unions-gotme @chaotic-kinky-hippie @cocovikings23 @moonie-flower101 @readsalot73 @saruuslovesmcfly @adhdnightmare  @fandomfic-galore-main  @heavenly1927 @apenas-mais-uma-pessoa  @dacreshoney @jadelynlace @chibisgotovalhalla @bravado07 @starjane312 @teishalicious @the-girl-in-the-box @ecarroll1978 @childishhoe @punkrocknpearls @jessimay89  @justaproudslytherpuff  @dog-cats-fandoms @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom @bethcarli @yourdevilmaycare @littlebirdgot @senpais-chibii-chan @sarai-ibn-la-ahad

[disasterofastory]

You are the one (Ubbe x Reader)

You are the one

Ubbe x Reader

Warnings: pregnancy, small angst, fluff

Reader is pregnant and Ubbe is there to comfort her when she feels sad.

You sit at the end of the bed. The room is quiet, and the air is filled with herbal tea. You enjoy the calmness of the afternoon, however, your thoughts soon take a turn to make you feel bad.

You look down on yourself. The light blue dress stretches around your breast, and you have to move to see your round belly. You are ready to give birth to your son or daughter in any week now. You caress your stomach, hoping for a small kick, but the little one is probably fast asleep from the amount of food you ate for supper. You stretch your legs, seeing them swollen and heavy, and your back hurts as well as your hips. You can’t wait to hold your child in your arms and get rid of everything that comes with pregnancy.

You feel like a pig. You are big and heavy, and you can barely move without help. And seeing the slave girl around your husband for weeks now doesn’t help with your confidence.

You huff in annoyance, staring into the flames before you.

You couldn’t be with Ubbe since the pregnancy started showing on you heavier and heavier. He is understanding, of course, the only thing is matters to him is the health of yours and your child’s. But he is a man. He has needs, and right now, you can’t satisfy him the way you or he would like to. And there is this blonde girl who smiles and giggles around the Ragnars with big, blue eyes and curves you don’t have anymore. She is fresh and young, lively while you need help to get up and lay down.

Tears start to burn your eyes as your throat tightens.

The door’s opening wakes you up from your gloomy thoughts. You look up from your seat, seeing your husband's big smile turning into a frown when he sees you.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, moving closer to you. He kneels down before you, caressing your thighs. “The baby?” He asks, glancing at your belly before he looks up at you again.

“We are fine,” you answer hoarsely. Because of the tightness of your throat, you can’t speak louder than a whisper.

“Then what’s wrong?” He asks again. His touch is warm and welcomed on your legs, and you sigh at the pleasurable feeling.

“Am I ugly?” You sniff, wiping down the tears from your heated cheeks.

“What?” He replies, he would laugh at your question if you wouldn’t be so sad. “Of course not.”

“But the new slave…” you start to argue, but he doesn’t let you continue.

“Who cares about the slave?” He interrupts you. “You are my wife with my child.”

His palms go up to your belly, caressing the light fabric around you.

“You are beautiful. I love your body more since you get pregnant, and I didn’t think it was possible.”

“You just say that,” you murmur, still in tears.

“You are wrong. I love you. I love your pretty face and the happiness on you when you get the food you crave so much. I love your roundness and your soft flesh and the life that grows within you. I want your pretty bottom on my lap every minute of the day and your tits in my face.” He stares at your breasts as he talks with hunger in his eyes. “I plan on keeping you like this for the rest of our lives.”

“Oh, Ubbe…” You say his name gently, reaching out to his face, caressing the stubble on his cheeks.

“You are my woman, the mother of my child. The Gods will strike me down the second, I notice any other woman besides you.”

“Thank you,” you tell him. “I needed this.”

“Anytime, my love,” he says, leaning up to kiss you on the lips. “But to be honest, I would love if this little one would come out already so I could put another one into you,” he says, smirking.

“I love you,” you sigh dreamily, kissing the smirk down from his lips.

You can’t wait to meet your child either.

_____

Taglist: @adrille88 @naaladareia @ritual-unions-gotme

[serasvictoria]

@ritual-unions-gotme asked for:

Okaaay i will 😈 I’ve been watching P-valley &&& got an idea

if you please, I would love to request the Ragnarssons as owners of a strip club?

Big emphasis on the favs, Ubbe Hvitserk and Ivar but i don’t mind those doofuses Bjorn and Sigurd lol

Ok, this one was fuuuuuuuuuun.

Ubbe's obviously the guy that runs it most of the time since he's responsible like that.

Hvitserk's in charge of the girls and also has the less clandestine job of providing drugs whenever they ask for it.

Ivar co-runs along with Ubbe, but also has the job of kicking out unruly customers which he likes just a little bit too much (rumour has it that he has definitely pulled a gun on someone at one point or another).

Strip club needs a music man, right? That's where Sigurd comes in.

And my dislike of Bjorn could not make me see him as anything other than the brother that comes round whenever he's broken up with another one of his girlfriends (or sometimes even without having broken up which then inevitably leads to a breakup).

Screencap on second moodboard provided by @underragingwaves, all the other images came from Pinterest

Tagging @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @vikingstrash @pomegranates-and-blood @quantumlocked310 @captainkilly @adrille88 @punkrocknpearls

[ofmanderley]

UBBE + HVITSERK - VIKINGS S4, EP18.

Some ubbe and hvitserk gifs requested by @ritual-unions-gotme [ 3 / - ]

[therealvikingstrash]

🌹

Hey love 💕 thank you for the rose, here is your reward:

Ubbe stepped up to Ulf, blew out the smoke he had inhaled before taking out his cigarette to put on his fakest smile, then he quickly leaned back and smashed his head forward with so much force his subordinate fell backwards to the ground, "Me, for example," he answered Ulf's hypothetical question, "This teenager you hit? That's my little brother, you asshole, and if you ever touch him again, I will fucking kill you." He crouched down over Ulf and pressed the cigarette out on the mans face, "Here, as a little reminder not to fuck up again."

Let's pretend it's one sentence 🤣

-

Send me a 🌹 and I give you a random sentence of a random WIP

[wlfkssd]

Valhalla must wait ( oneshot )

Prompt based on the ask ‘on the edge of consciousness + ubbe’ sent by @ritual-unions-gotme​ from this list.

Summary : Ubbe is on the edge of consciousness, having spent so long at sea without food or water. Loosely plays with the timeline between 6.15′s storm and 6.17.

Warnings : mentions of dying.

Pairing : Ubbe x Torvi 

Word count : 1,084

Additional notes : First piece of posted vikings work and I’m realising it’s small for a oneshot / mini fic. Whoops. Othere makes an appearance as well as some other characters as Ubbe has a vision of Valhalla.

Has everything been a waste? All this for nothing? 

Ubbe's eyes are heavy and he fights every instinct to close them; an internal struggle to add to the never-ending external one. He looks about the ship with what little strength he retains. Torvi is weakening - Gods know how their child, baby Ragnar, has survived for so long - and Othere looks to be following.

The sun beats down upon parched lips and the water buckets are scraped dry by those still able to crawl to them. Forgotten are the days of sharing equally because none exists. A sad truth that will most likely be the end of them all.

Rough hands run themselves over his face, feeling the way his skin seems to flake away and Ubbe tries to remember the ocean's spray hitting him when he was young, travelling with his father and Hvitserk to Paris all those years ago. The expression that slowly takes couldn't be called a smile or resemble any kind of joy really but, if he closes his eyes, perhaps...

No.

Ubbe knows if he closes his eyes, even to rest for a while, they won't open again. His stomach growls like Fenrir and Torvi painfully looks to him. Their gazes rest tiredly with one another and there's a shared guilt. Anyone can recognise the look of a woman who's lost a child but for Torvi, that shroud lays over her face twofold. For both of Bjorn's children are gone now; lost first to the blade and then to the sea.

Would that he could take her into his arms and give some kind of comfort but the mere thought of moving is too much. It exhausts him and Ubbe feels the first of many tears slide easily down one cheek unchecked, catching it with the tip of his tongue as it comes to latch onto his cracked top lip.

Thoughts creep back to the whale and how Othere had claimed it would be a sign from his Christian God. Perhaps his Lord and the old Gods were watching now; both indecisive enough to let their subjects suffer for lack of commitment.

Clear blue eyes turn to the sky.

"Ubbe," Torvi's voice breaks the monotony of the stillness and Ubbe brings his attention to her slowly, careful not to exert himself. Every movement feels like death but he knows, should he die, others will follow within days from their broken hearts. 

It would be the same if Torvi died first.

"My beautiful wife." Paying such a compliment seems empty now but Ubbe does it anyway. What's the harm? Torvi smiles - proving she is just as strong as he's always believed her to be - and summons the strength to bring their child to him, settling once again at Ubbe's side just as she has been for years.

He looks down into the bundle, at the face of his son and begins to cry in earnest. He feels Torvi's forehead press tightly to the bolt in his jaw and vaguely he hears her speak. But nothing touches him so much as the temptation to let go now. In this moment, he is happy. For he has his family around him in the most impossible situation and it makes him sad for his father.

Alone in his final breaths.

Turning his face, with effort, Ubbe rests his lips to his wife's hair. It feels dry and coarse but he doesn't mind. It smells just as he remembers and despite their misfortunes, that fact alone is a comfort. Ubbe finds himself smiling as the smallest, most familiar of sounds scrapes itself from his throat.

"I love you."

It's all he can do to let Torvi know the depths of his feelings for her now. If they were back in Kattegat, he'd kiss her deeply, breathing in her life, take her to bed, gift her every part of him. But here? Those three simple words are all he has to give. They make him a poor man, indeed, but if all the silver in the world meant dying alone, he would gladly be a pauper to the end of his days with her.

And his eyes flutter then, closing as he inhales for what could be the last time.

The gates of Valhalla stand before him in their golden glory and, inside, he sees the faces of those great warriors, brought into the warm feasting hall for their courage. They each have a curved horn, filled to the brim with ale and their faces hold only smiles for Ubbe.

Ragnar, Lagertha, Bjorn.

Bjorn.

"Brother! Come!" Familiar voice encourages as a now unscathed hand is offered. "Come on. Everyone is here. We are all waiting for you!"

A feeling of utter ease overcomes Ubbe and he takes his first step forward; all hardships, injury and hunger forgotten in the euphoria of his journey. Until, from behind him, another more distant voice calls out.

"Ubbe!"

"Torvi?" He stops sharply, knowing exactly who owns that voice. Surely she cannot have followed so quickly? Turning - with every intention of embracing her - Ubbe finds nothing. Just an open plain of the greenest grass he's ever seen and the tranquillity of birds overhead. Every fibre of his being screams to be reunited with his brothers and father, his mother and other warriors he's lost in his life, but the urgency of his wife erases such a need with absolute surety.

Valhalla must wait.

With a last look back at Bjorn's face, and the nod his brother gives in understanding, Ubbe smiles and allows himself to be pulled away from the embracing calm and back into the storm of his first life.

"Ubbe, there's water. Drink." The large hand feels foreign as it settles at the crown of his head, providing a little comfort as he opens his eyes. A drop of rain clings to Othere's nose, threatening to fall, and his expression is one filled with relief. "Drink, my friend."

One of Ubbe's own hands reaches up to hold the ladle that's set close to his mouth. He drinks slowly, savouring each sip as though he well knows it could be his last.

"What did you see?" The question comes from Torvi, soaked to the bone beside him.

"Valhalla."

She blinks at him, arm coming to lay upon his own for a moment before her fingers seek his, holding tight. "What was it like?"

"Full. But also empty. You were not there, so I could not stay." There are tears in Ubbe's blue eyes as he leans his aching body to touch his forehead to Torvi's. "Nothing could make me leave you. Not even death."

[golddaggers]

heaven ain't close in a place like this

pairings: alpha!ubbe x omega!reader

warnings: a/b/o dynamics, heat, oral sex, sex, cursing. no use of y/n.

a/n: so this sprung from @ritual-unions-gotme request of sacred love moments, and i sort of been wanting to write alpha!ubbe for a while now. i have no frigging clue if this works or nah, but i hope you like it!

word-count: 3,3k+

xx

This could not be happening.

It’s the one thought that echoes as your mind starts to lose focus while the strain in your lower back and stomach tightens. You have been through it many times before, but never in a big house crowded with alphas that had their maws dripping, wide open to devour you. Never without the pain herbs that soothed the worst of the drilling waves of pain. You had, perhaps, minutes. An hour if you were lucky. Not that having time was useful, you couldn’t run away from here.

Ragnar’s wife, Aslaug, had brought you under her tutelage. She had insisted that if you must marry into her family, the least she could do was prepare you to be a fine wife. Neither your mother nor father argued. They were wealthy, though their name would fade away when they died, so this marriage-to-be plan was devised. Your father had heard one of Ragnar's sons required a partner. He wanted his genetics blended with those above his, so his grandchildren would grow to do great things. You hated that he treated you like livestock, like something he could trade for fame, or more gold.

At least you were tended with the utmost care. Aslaug and her ladies taught you their ways, their language. They washed you clean, braided your hair, painted your face. In a few months, you were no longer a wild, spoiled thing sprung from Mediterranean lands, you were an altogether Viking woman. Torvi, your closest friend around here, had also trained you in the fighting dance. She spent long afternoons lapidating your brute use of a sword until you became a lustrous diamond. Fierce enough to press the edge of your blade to her pulsing point.

When the men returned home, they never would’ve guessed your origins.

Only after almost two years do you get to know the man you are meant to marry. Ubbe. Broad, untamed Ubbe. He’s tall enough that you have to look up to see his face, a breath-taking face, at that. You’ve met alphas before. This… He was a prime specimen. Reeked of effortless power. Held himself up as if the world was meant to bow before him. The long braids pointed to a never lost battle. His blue eyes were hard, though when fixed on you, you could see the smallest hint of tenderness.

He courted you for weeks. Bouquets arranged outside your door, silent walks down the riverside and up to a small clearing. Ubbe was never improper. His touches were limited to the bare of your wrists, the round of your cheeks, and his words appeared to be produced after deep thought, too. You weren’t sure when it happened, but you felt yourself fall for him. A shy emotion that bubbles in your throat. That doesn't leave you alone once you've realised it's there.

Regardless of the obviousness of who was your chosen husband, his brothers never walked away from flirting with you. They complimented you, kissed your hand, tossed wild words that made your face warm in embarrassment.

The slaves that cared for you whispered about them. Most had been bedded by at least one. If not all. You would’ve been lying if you said it hadn’t sparked your curiosity. All three men, Hvitserk, Ivar, and Ubbe were easy on the eye. Each of them owned a distinct set of alluring features. Though your heart belonged to only one, your late-night fantasies were dappled by the trio.

You shouldn’t have been so surprised that your heat came sooner. Not enough herbs in the world could stabilise the heavy presence of strong alphas. Soon your smell would linger and they’d come up to your chambers. Less man, more beast. There was no way you could outrun them, even if they fought, your body was too frail, too unable to put up a fight. Your mind was the single thread tethering you to what was happening around you.

Wood from the stairs creaked under the weight of someone walking up. Perhaps you could order a group of slaves to take you to the hidden cottage if the footsteps belonged to one of your ladies. Had you been already married, this would not be an issue. You wouldn’t fear whoever was about to come into your room.

Then it hit you. He smelled like fresh pine trees and seawater. A saline tang that settled at the bottom of your tongue. Ubbe knocked twice at your door.

“Is everything okay, sweet darling?” His voice is rich and low, a tinge of concern concealed in the urgency of his question. “May I come in to check on you?”

“‘M fine,” It’s a pathetic answer, cut through by a pained moan. “No need to worry.”

“May I come in either way?”

A grunt spills past your lips as the door screeches open, his towering presence worsening your condition. Sweat trickled down your forehead, temples, beneath your nose. Your blood pumped so hard you could feel it in your ears. The fragile grasp to anything other than the crescent need between your thighs gave way when he touched you.

“P-please,” You beg, his hand holding yours. Ubbe looks bothered, his fair blue eyes reduced to petite rings around his blown pupils and nostrils flared while he downs the smell of you. “I didn’t know… Didn’t know…”

“‘S okay, doll, you don’t have to be scared,” He tries to reassure you. “No one is home but me.”

“If t-they come back…”

“You’re mine, I would tear their throats out if anyone tries to touch you.”

Ubbe scoops you to his arms. You part your legs to settle on his lap, wrapped up around him like a frightened animal. You let him scent you. The bite of his beard prickles as he rubs his cheek against your feverish neck skin. He croons soothing words, meant to make your heartbeat slow down, meant to make you calmer, pliant. It works far too well. You tip your head back to grant him more of you. While one arm is curled around your waistline, the other is free, so he undoes the laces of your woollen chemise, exposing your collarbones and the curve between your breasts.

The pain still tugs at your lower tummy, but the gentle thrum of him underneath you placates it. You had never been this close to a man before, never let anyone but your parents scent you. And even at that, it had only happened when you were a child. He had made you leap to the feral side, the omega in your bones begging, pleading, imploring for him to claim you.

You look at him, his nose bumps against yours. He’s got an easy smile on his face. Now his hands are rooted to your love handles.

“Better?”

After a meek nod, you lean into him, your lips feathering from the hollow of his throat up to his chin. He indulges the light touches, rubbing your lower back. You didn’t want to tell him that you’ve never been knotted. Hell, you’ve never been fucked, let alone knotted. But you don’t feel brave enough. You didn’t know if you had enough words to voice it.

"I know I shouldn't be here," He muses, rocking your body back and forth like one does to a crying babe.

"But you are," Your voice has descended to something akin to a whine, gods know if tears weren't streaming down your cheeks. "Stay, please."

“Can I take you to my chambers?” His nose trails down to your collarbones, drinking your smell. “We can stay here if you want.”

“Ubbe,” You try, voice quivering. “I-I…”

“What, sweet darling?”

“I never… I-”

“That’s okay,” His comforting tone, or maybe it was the heavy scenting, put you into a much calmer state of mind. “Didn’t think you had. Do you want me to? I can take care of you.”

“You’re to be my husband,” You say in a hushed tone. “Don’t you find it inadequate to bed me before we marry?”

“I would’ve married you long ago, my doll,” He kisses the tip of your nose, then your eyes, then your forehead. “Would’ve married you as soon as I came back home.”

A sob rattles you. You’re growing desperate, it’s obvious. None of your heats had been similar to this one. Not easy, never, but never so distressful. Ubbe starts anew his slow rubs, though this time his mouth finds the mating gland at the juncture of your neck and shoulder. His tongue flickers around it, soft, smooth. Like a wolf licking its wounds.

This vulnerability should make you scared. You’re nothing but a defenceless thing perched on his lap. Your legs close the circle around his waist, your arms link behind his neck. It’s like his warmth has become a bodily necessity for you to function. His face is still burrowed on the crook of your neck. His lips travel up to find the shell of your ear. He whispers sweet words, words of care. When you realise, Ubbe has risen to his feet, his arms tightened around you as he walked towards the door.

Cold air dances over your skin, or it might’ve been that you were too underdressed for the weather outside your room. His home was always a nice, lukewarm temperature, but the fever starting to break made everything colder.

You hear another door creaking, then your nose is flooded by the strong smell of him. It must be his room, though you keep your eyes closed, your face smashed against his shoulder. He locks it behind him with a click. A few seconds after, your back meets the plush comfort of his mattress, you dare to open your eyes at this point. He’s settled between your legs, hovering above you like a lulling force. So close you can see the freckles splashed on his cheeks, the subtle flare of his nostrils. His eyes had shifted to a lighter shade of blue, pools of crystalline water.

Time rolls as raindrops, his presence enough to divert your attention from the coiling pain in your belly. Spams of conscience that you wanted this force of a man to a point it hurt. Regardless of what your body needed, your mind yearned for him. You pull him down, his weight dropping on you so you were almost crushed. Ubbe laughs at how eager you are.

“May I take this off?” He tugs at the hem of the chemise, his fingers lingering a second longer on your skin. You nod, but you don’t loosen the grip on him. “Not going anywhere, sweet darling.”

Your arms fall to each side, a groaning-alike noise spilling as his body ceases to cover yours. Ubbe drags it up, unveiling bit by bit your secrets. You have to lift your hips, and your shoulders, so he can remove the woollen shift. It does not feel foreign as it should. You don’t mind being bare in front of him. His eyes are trained to your face, locked with yours. By the gods, he’s handsome. Carved out of fine marble.

This is better, you think. To have him take you before you have to consummate the marriage in front of ravenous public eyes. It wouldn’t have felt this nice. This also meant delaying the marriage until you could bear to take him again. It only happened every other month, lasting for about a week. Marriages were often arranged to be made on the tipping point when the guests wouldn’t be too bothered by the released pheromones, but you would be able to take his knot. And a claiming bite.

Your preceptor taught you much about marriage, though never had you ever thought you’d marry a Viking man. Still, she used to tell you tales of wedding nights, about the fulfilling swell of a knot and the mind-shattering high of a claiming bite. This only happened, however, if done during a heat, otherwise, it would lead to moments of unimaginable pain.

“Ubbe,” You call for him. He has your feet on his hands, his thumbs dug into its soles, reaping sounds that make you warm on the cheeks. “W-wait.”

“What is it, dove? Do you wish for me to take you somewhere else?”

“No. I just wonder,” A wrinkle on the linen bed sheets seems more interesting, so you focus on that instead of his peaceful face. “You won’t claim me now, will you?”

“Do you want me to?”

“I don’t know,” You answer, dumbly. Your head begins to spin again, the nagging pain growing into discomfort. “We should wait until we are married. What would people think, if you did it before?”

Ubbe looks amused at your concern, “What would it matter? You’re my wife either way. It would just show you’re mine.”

You hiss an agreement, sighing when his touch moves up to your thighs, parting your legs. You’re sure he can see the sopping mess you’ve become, so wet and swollen and redden. Ubbe ignores it, massaging your thighs instead, vigorous, precise. The sounds you’re making are new to you, the mindless gripping on his forearms just to squeeze something, too.

When he does touch you, you release a sharp breath. Air you had no idea you were holding. His fingers trace lazy shapes, he spreads slick around, taunting your snug entrance, though not on purpose. It’s nice. His features are schooled to tranquilness as if he’s not palming your sex, as if he’s not trying to make you fall apart on his hand. You’ve done it before, alone in your room, in the middle of the night. You know that’s what he’s trying to do.

But he stops. You grumble like a little kid being denied a treat. Ubbe dismisses your complaining, pushing you further back, your head snuggled between pillows. Something heavy hangs in the air, you’re not quite sure what he’s going to do. A rather unpredictable man, that’s what your husband-to-be was. He presses his cheek to your inner thigh, blowing hot air to the heated skin. Your head lolls back, your eyes falling shut.

His tongue finds the pulsing point that aches, uncared for. It’s soft, fluttering licks at first, warm spit that makes the jut of your belly tremble. Then his lips wrap around it to suck, and you’re sure this must be paradise. A foretold place of eternal satisfaction. If his hands were good, this was better. You moan, fisting the sheets, enduring the crescent turmoil in your chest.

Ubbe is relentless. Dirty, titillating noises fill the room, both yours and his. He growls like a wolf, each of his hands rooted to the base of your thighs, his face buried between them. This man eats like he’s known hunger. Eats as Thor goes through a feast. You’re aware that one finger has slid in, its tip rubbing a tender spot inside you. Your mind is slowly going blank.

You’ve heard women describe how this feels. You imagined it must be good if they kept doing it, but up until now, it had been pure fantasy. It’s the sort of pleasure that builds up, high and high and high, then it breaks you. It’s voracious, it takes away all the grown pressure to spend it. Your muscles feel like lead afterwards, you end up resting like a limp corpse on his bed. Still twitching. Even then, Ubbe is unwavering, suckling, fingering.

The pain subsides. Though you still long for him, it’s now dormant in your bones. You’re not making any sense anymore. The last thread of sanity was shaved away. He moves away from you, though he leaves a throbbing bite on the soft flesh of your inner thigh as a memento. You hear the rustling of fabric. It sounds so distant. You sob again, needing him to be close. Needing his warmth.

Words fall from his lips, your muddled brain recognises they are loving, they are tender. He’s back hovering above you. His mouth finds yours in a restless whim, tongues swirling together. It’s passionate. You feel him hot and heavy on your hip, he thrums with need, his cockhead wet on your lower belly. It knocks a moan out of you. The kisses last a while. As if you are teens fooling around.

Then you’re switched, he helps you lie down on top of him. One hand rests on your back, the other smears your slick around him, jerking himself once, twice. After it, you feel him bully your cunt. Ubbe is careful. Though you are pliable, ready to take him, he breaches you inch by inch. It burns, stings. You didn’t think he’d fit all the way, so a hint of surprise cuts through the fog of your hazed mind.

Your muscles fight to adjust to the new fullness. Ubbe has your head pressed to his chest, and he grunts when rooted deep in you, though he rubs your back as if unaffected. This quiet moment stretches, he doesn’t move. Your shift, which makes his cock, so deep into you, move in the smallest of movements. Unlike you had thought, it doesn’t hurt. You do it again. At the third time, he takes over.

It’s a rhythmic, deliberate pace that he chooses. You’re back to the small thing perched on his lap, but you know, as the fever breaks and you grow feverish, that you’re safe. So safe.

He holds your waist to prop you up, fucking into you. Your hands splayed on his chest, trembling groans filling the room. Like this, he goes so much deeper, it weighs your consciousness down. You feel cared for, each clutch of your cunt around him a silent plea for the bittersweet pain of his knot. Each month alone felt agonising. Hollow release after hollow release. This, however, threaded deeper. Reached places that soothed.

“Sweetness,” Ubbe croons, squeezing further the patches of skin he’s holding. You know. Gods, you need him to.

It’s palpable how much he needs this. Just as much as you do. His snaps are less contained. They stutter as you’re pushed down on him, the hot stretch burn lighting a fire that grows at the end of your belly. You didn’t think you’d get this again. A flickering current of pleasure that starts at the very tip of your toes.

Ubbe cracks before you do. The swell is a flashing, molten thing that fills your sex. It binds you to him, it makes sure that not a drop of his spend goes to waste. It’s too much. Too much, you know you are saying it out loud. Each fibre of your body comes alive. A wild wave of genuine pleasure that shakes, that wrings, that topples you down. You can’t hold yourself up anymore, falling to the hard chest beneath you shaking like a leaf in the summer breeze.

You’re cradled in the afterglow of the first hot wave of your heat. You drift between consciousness and sleep, the pulsing of his knot deep into you deterring true rest. You feel content. Satisfied. Your mind swirls to a stable line of thinking. You notice the gentle lift and fall of his chest while he breathes, the slow beating of his heart.

“Good, dove?” It is a deep, rumbling voice. Ubbe asks only after a long while has slopped by. “Just a few more minutes, okay? Then I’ll get you something to eat. Something to drink.”

“Hmm,” You nuzzle to his neck. “Not hungry. Just sleepy.”

“Bet you are,” You feel a kiss on the crown of your head.

“You didn’t bite me.”

“No, I didn’t.”

There’s a beat of uncertain silence.

“Why?”

“I will only claim you if you’re sure about it,” He says, lifting your chin to meet the blue waves of the feral sea that are his eyes. “If you want to wait until we are one before the gods, then so be it.”

You press your lips to his in a gentle kiss.

“And if I become with child?” It’s a timid question.

“You’ll bless my life.”

He pulls you to lie down again, your head on his shoulder as he lures you into sleep by softly stroking your back. You give in. This is what happiness tastes like.

[mrsalwayswrite]

A Girl Has Needs (Ragnarssons x reader)

So I’ve been sick the past two weeks and when my muse decided to return, this is what she wanted me to write. Honestly, this is probably the silliest thing I’ve ever written, but it made me laugh, so....

This is kind of a sequel to Singing In The Shower but can also be read as a solo one-shot. 

Also, the Ragnarssons are just the sons of Aslaug. No Bjorn. 

Warnings: swearing, implied something at the end (i’ll let you decide), the brothers being ridiculous, Ivar and Sigurd constantly insulting one another, the brothers are flirts, reader is oblivious, a jerk somewhere in the middle

Words:4700

Tag List: @youbloodymadgenius​ @evelynshelby​ @pomegranates-and-blood​ @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie​ @geekandbooknerd​ @adrille88​ @quantumlocked310​ @breezykpop​ @ritual-unions-gotme​ @solinarimoon​

 "It's too hot out."

 Hvitserk ran a hand over his braids. "Ivar, I swear if you complain one more time about the heat or the sun, we're leaving your ass home next time we come out."

 "He could be a damn vampire for how often he never goes outside. Always playing video games or watching porn." Sigurd said, spinning the plastic spoon between his fingers like a drum stick.

 "That's a fucking lie, you half-brained fuckwad." Ivar glared across the wooden picnic table. 

 You speak up before the two youngest Lothbroks could start clawing at each other's throats. "Ivar and I play board games sometimes or read together or watch movies….so not just video games." You choose not to reference the other activity Sigurd mentioned. 

 "See! At least someone likes me." Ivar laid his head on your shoulder, the tops of his braids tickling your neck. 

 Sigurd snorted and looked further down the boardwalk, watching the many people out in the summer sun. 

 "Alright, enough you two. We're supposed to be out having fun and enjoying summer." Ubbe said, always the peace-maker. 

 You finished off the last from your ice cream cup, licking the spoon clean. By this point you were used to the dynamics of the Lothbrok brothers, even if sometimes it gave you whiplash. 

 You had been roommates with Ubbe and Hvitserk for almost a year and a half now, something you had initially been hesitant for but now could not imagine life without these boys. Ivar was over more often than not, either crashing on the couch or in one of the various bedrooms. More than once, you had come home from work to find Ivar sleeping in your bed, hoarding all your pillows like some kind of territorial cat. Sigurd lived with some friends but had recently begun to drop by more often than just the usual Sunday brother time. Which you definitely appreciated because he was the only one who did not make fun of you for your arachnophobia. So whenever he would come over and there was an issue you needed to be saved from, he would just smile and grab a paper towel, becoming your white knight. 

 Ubbe was your late-night talking buddy, both of you venting about your days or whatever drama your families were trying to drag you into. Somehow over time, you both had created a routine that on Saturday mornings you would get up early together and clean your apartment, listening to music and getting things set up for the rest of the weekend so you could both relax. Hvitserk loved dragging you around town to do various fun things or try new restaurants. If you both were exhausted, he was also your junk food connoisseur and Food Network binging-buddy. If you both liked to quote Gordon Ramsay in terrible British accents to one another, no one needed to know. Besides your neighbors who called the cops one night when they heard Hvitserk yell at you that your squid was so raw he could hear it telling SpongeBob to go fuck itself. But that is beside the point. 

 When you moved in, you had just hoped to get along with the brothers. Now, the four brothers had become your best friends and you loved them all. Each one of them seemed to fill up a space in your heart that you had not known was empty until they entered your life. Over time, you had to strongly execute any kind of crush you had for them. They were your roommates and friends, it could never be more than that. Even if they were all so handsome but….you did mentally question their sanity sometimes. 

 "Hey, two o'clock." Hvitserk whispered from his spot on your right. 

 The four guys looked in the direction, past the boardwalk and along the narrow strip of beach. You peeked through the people walking by, then rolled your eyes at the woman Hvitserk was most likely referring to. A hum of appreciation left Ubbe and Sigurd let out a low whistle. The five of you were supposed to be out getting ice cream from a local favorite shop as a special treat for surviving the Lothbrok summer party that the boys dragged you too. To say the least exciting thing to happen was a screaming match between Aslaug and Ragnar, meanwhile Floki "accidently" set a religious painting on fire that Athelstan had given Ragnar….so yeah, the five of you deserved ice cream and plenty of beer when you got back to the apartment. Of course, this did not stop the boys from ogling. 

 "Right? Look at those legs." Hvitserk murmured. 

 "Eh. Y/n here could pull that bathing suit off way better." Ubbe said, turning back around and giving you a wink. 

 You flushed under his praise, but still wrinkled your rose at him, hoping to hide your reaction. 

 Hvitserk smirked, those green eyes twinkling mischievously from his spot on your right. "Yeah. I still liked that bathing suit from last month. The white one. Damn, your ass looked great."

 "Oh my gods, stop." You shook your head at their teasing, your face heating up with embarrassment.

 Ivar looked around you to his brother on your other side, gaze narrowed and blue eyes hard. "The fuck you talking about? Did you see her in that silky black dress at mother's party? Holy fuck, I thought--"

 "And I'm out." You interrupted as you climbed out of your seat between Ivar and Hvitserk, gathering up their paper cups and spoons. "I'm going to throw away the trash."

 "Y/n….did we embarrass you?" Hvitserk chuckled, reaching out to grab your wrist and most likely pull you back onto the bench seat. 

 You smacked his grabby hands away. "Nope. Just want to clean up our area. Common courtesy and all because we know you heathens won't."

 Bless him, Ubbe was trying to hide his amusement by covering his mouth with his hand, but his grin was still evident and his blue eyes twinkled. "We'll stop….I promise, y/n."

 "I won't." Ivar stated with a casual shrug. "I can't decide if I liked that black dress more or less than that sexy Black Widow costume you wore for Halloween."

 "Oh damn, she did look sexy as hell in that costume! How did I forget that one?" Sigurd exclaimed. 

 "Okay, bye." You rushed away, feeling as if you were about to spontaneously combust into flames. From behind you came the sounds of the brothers' laughter and a few calls of your name but thankfully no one actually followed you. 

 At this point, you should be used to the brothers complimenting and teasing you. They had never felt the need to dilute their compliments before, a few times using far more candor than you ever wanted to know. It was sweet but at the same time made you feel self-conscious. All four of the brothers were gorgeous in their own ways and you had a front row seat to the many women that flocked around them, either due to their last name or their looks. Meanwhile you were just….you. Not ugly but not beautiful. Just you. 

 Over the past few months, you noticed how those compliments came your way more frequently- a quick comment on your hair or clothing, a dazzling statement about your smile or eyes. It was very sweet. You could not help but wonder if they made some kind of pact behind your back about boosting your self-esteem. Something that was not their job to do but gods, did you appreciate their efforts. 

 Something else you noticed over the past few months was how all the brothers had become more….tactile towards you. 

 Ever since the incident where you found them standing around the bathroom as you sang in the shower, and holy hell was that ever awkward and please don't ever let that happen again, and you confessed about how those in your life prior only tore you down. Something between the five of you had shifted. There was not a single moment you could look back on and point it out that it clicked but over time you just happened to notice. The brothers, especially Sigurd, made a point to turn up the music as often as possible and have you sing along. Sometimes on days you could tell Ivar's pain was bad, he would quietly ask you to play with his hair and sing to him. So, you would. 

 More than that, it was the more frequent and lingering hugs, the quick touches on your arms, hips or shoulders as they passed you, how one of them would drag you against them to cuddle whenever something was on the TV. None of it ever made you feel uncomfortable. On the contrary, you had to decapitate a few butterflies that dared to fly around in your belly. You just figured that you had reached a new level of friendship with the brothers, because honestly who else did they have to be as touchy-feely towards? None of them had girlfriends at the moment….or for the past couple of months....but that was none of your business. You were just happy to have them in your life. Even if they embarrassed you often. 

 Moving around a couple pushing an expensive-looking stroller, you tossed the trash away in the garbage bin. Absent-mindedly, you wiped your hands on your shorts, then stopped and glanced down to make sure you had not just stained them. Breathing out a sigh of relief, because chocolate stain crisis averted, you started back towards the table where the brothers seemed to be arguing over something already, when a voice from nearby stopped you. 

 "Hey, pretty lady."

 You stumble, barely catching yourself as you turn around. Surprise flooded you when you see the attractive, shirtless man actually staring at you with a smile on his face. Wow, someone spent way too long shaping that jawline when they were creating him. This seemed like something from a fantasy more than real life. You were almost tempted to pinch yourself to make sure you were awake. "Um, I'm sorry, were you talking to me?"

 "Yeah. You here alone?"

 "Um, no…." You gestured vaguely in the direction of the Lothbrok brothers, watching as his gaze shifted to the brothers and assessed them before returning back to you. 

 Crossing his arms over his chest and making his muscles bulge….which is only slightly distracting….he smirked. "I see. But you clearly ain't with any of them."

 "What's that mean?" You tilted your head to the side, confused. You arrived with them, did he not think you were friends with the guys? 

 "I've seen you sitting with them, but you don't act like any of them are your boyfriend. 'Sides, look at you." He eyed you up and down. "I mean you don't seem…."

 Huh?

 Ohhhhh….

 You straightened, placing your hands on your hips. "What are you trying to say?"

 "No offense but they seem outta your league, y'know?"

 And if that did not feel like a bucket of ice water thrown on you. Whatever prior thoughts you had about the still attractive guy flew out the window. "Oh, really?"

 "Yeah, girl. I mean, you're pretty but you don't seem their type. It looks like you're clearly friends though."

 Was the guy really this dumb? At first you thought he was hitting on you but it seemed to be coming out more as an insult....and he was just standing there smiling at you like you should be thanking him or something for his attention! 

 "Wow." You shook your head, done with this conversation and done with him but you wanted to wipe that smirk off his face before you left. Petty, maybe? 

 "Well, you are right in a sense. I don't act like boyfriend and girlfriend with any of them because technically they aren't."

 He grinned smugly like he was about to win some kind of prize. 

 "They are my harem." 

 His eyes widened to comical proportions and his mouth dropped open as he gaped at you unbelieving. 

 You wiped your hands off on your shorts again as you continued talking. "So yeah, it would be weird to act like only boyfriend and girlfriend with one of them when they are all my boyfriends. Would be really rude, don't you think?"

 "Ummm, well…." His gaze darted towards the brothers then back to you. 

 "Let me tell you, it's not always easy trying to juggle that many boyfriends. But this girl has needs and let me tell you, those men know how to keep this girl very satisfied. Uh huh. All. Night. Long. And then also in the morning if we're feeling like having some extra fun. I do feel bad when I wear them out though."

 Suddenly, you felt someone come up beside you. 

 "You alright, y/n?" Ubbe asked, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. 

 "Yeah, baby. Just having a little chat. Let's head back." You smiled up at Ubbe before looking back to the befuddled man in front of you. "And let me tell you one last thing….I might not be in their league like you said, but I know how to keep my men coming back for more." You slipped your arm around Ubbe's waist and started walking back to the picnic table. 

 The closer you got, the more your face felt like it was on fire. You could feel Ubbe stealing glances at you but you ignored it, too mortified by what had just come out of your mouth. How could you have said all of that? What had come over you? Yeah, that guy was a Class-A jerk but it did not warrant you claiming to have a freaking harem with your guy friends/roommates! Why had the universe not promptly shut you up? And to think Ubbe heard the end of your passionate monologue. Gods, you doubted you would be able to look him in the eye for at least a week! 

 You dropped onto your spot between Hvitserk and Ivar, covering your face with your hands. The weight of four pairs of eyes on you made you want to crawl under the table and hide from them. Not that it would work. One of them would just drag you out from underneath or Ivar would keep lovingly tapping you with his crutch until you appeared. 

 "She okay?" Sigurd asked, a hint of concern in his voice. 

 "Y/n?" Ubbe tried to encourage you. 

 You just shook your head, delayed mortification making you tongue-tied. How could you have called them your harem - YOUR HAREM - like you were some wealthy princess or something. Was that even a thing? Either way, you were ready for the universe to strike you with lighting now. Or swallow you whole. 

 "What the fuck happened?" Ivar snarled from your left, but you instinctively knew his anger was not directed at you. 

 Ubbe sighed, probably rubbing a hand down his face. "I don't know. I'm not sure if that guy was insulting her or hitting on her; but after I walked up, she said something about not being in their league but knowing how to keep her men coming back for more. Oh, and she also called me 'baby'."

 Yep. The ground could swallow you whole at any moment now. Any moment….just waiting...

 "Hold on." Hvitserk said, shifting to fully look at you, tugging gently on one of your hands covering your face. "Why do you get to call Ubbe 'baby'? If he gets a pet name, I want one too!"

 Sigurd helpfully pointed out. "She already calls you 'Serk'."

 "That's not a pet name." Hvitserk pouted, pressed his forehead to your shoulder like a toddler denied a candy.

 "Well if those idiots get a name, I'm definitely getting one." Ivar stated, laying a hand on your lower back, his thumb rubbing soothing circles. 

 "You have one. It's 'asshole'." Sigurd sneered. 

 You could feel Ivar shrug. "Yeah, but at least I'm an asshole with class. You're about as interesting as paint drying."

 "Hey! You god‐-" Sigurd started up. 

 Ubbe interrupted. "All of you, shut up." He sighed loudly, probably glaring at Sigurd and Ivar with one of his perfected I-don't-have-time-for-this-shit looks, before reaching across the table and tugging on one of your hands still covering your face. "Hey, wanna explain what was going on with that guy?"

 "Do we need to rough him up?" Hvitserk asked. 

 "Rough him up? What are we, twelve?" Ivar rolled his eyes, shifting his hand to lay on your thigh. "Let's just stab him."

 "Mom said no stabbings, asshat." Sigurd stated, blandly. 

 "She also said no playing music at 2am but we know how well you listened to that, dumb bitch." Ivar sneered back. 

 "Both of you! Shut. Up. Dammit." Ubbe squeezed your hand that he had managed to coax away from your face. "Y/n, please?"

 You slightly shook your head, a small smile on your lips from listening to the brothers bicker. Ubbe squeezed your hand again, almost in a silent pleading. Finally, you murmured, "It's not a big deal. It's really stupid." 

 "Doesn't matter, you're our girl." Ubbe said with a finality that reverberated in your bones. 

 You lowered your other hand, smiling at the four faces looking at you. They were truly your best friends, even if that line did seem to blur lately with how tactile they had become. Not that you truly minded but still. Even now, Ubbe was holding your hand from across the table, Ivar had his hand on your thigh and Hvitserk still had his head on your shoulder. Next to Ubbe, Sigurd was watching you with such fondness and concern it made your stomach clench. What made you so lucky for these sweet, handsome brothers to be concerned about your well-being?

 You squeezed Ubbe's hand back as you looked around the table at them. "You have to promise you won't get mad at me." You nudged Hvitserk off of you so you could look at his face too. 

 "Of course, sweet cheeks. Whatever you need." Sigurd smiled at you. 

 Once all the brothers gave their agreement, you hesitantly began speaking. "Okay, so I was heading back here when that guy stopped me. I think he was trying to hit on me."

 "Why do you think?" Hvitserk questioned. "It's usually pretty obvious when a guy is hitting on a girl."

 "No, that's just you." Ubbe teased. "You have no shame."

 "What? I see what I want and go after it."

 "Focus, idiots." Ivar flatly stated, this thumb rubbing a line on the outside of your thigh. 

 "Um," you tried to start up again but the butterflies in your stomach had turned into pterodactyls and you worried they would somehow escape and gods then you would be on some freaky TV show and no one would ever talk to you. "So….it….it's stupid and doesn't matter. I'm over it. Can we just forget it?"

 "Y/n, love, what happened?" Ubbe encouraged, his patient blue eyes like a warm balm to your frazzled nerves.

 You bit your lip, wondering if you could shove the topic away. Looking at the gazes of the brothers, you know they were not going to let this go, no matter how much you wanted them too. You took a deep breath then spilled out the story, your words almost stumbling into the next in your haste to hurry the hell up. "He said….he asked if I was here alone and I said I was with you guys. But then I think he was asking if I was single because he said clearly I wasn't with any of you guys because it was obvious you're all out of my league…."

 "He said that?" Ivar started to push himself up, grabbing his crutch that had been leaning against the table. "Where the fuck is he? I'm going to ram my fist so far down his throat he won't be able to…."

 You reached your other hand over and grabbed Ivar's hand, stilling his rage-fueled movements. "No, it's fine. Really. I sorta….um, got him back."

 "What did you say?" Ivar raised an eyebrow as he settled back next to you. 

 "Um….well…." Cue the delayed embarrassment and wishing this never happened.

 Hvitserk chuckled with a wicked smirk on his face. "Oh, this is going to be good if you are already stuttering and can't look us in the eye."

 "Shut up." You groaned, but unable to pull away, effectively trapped by the brothers. Ivar was holding your left hand between his; Ubbe held your right hand, your fingers intertwined now; Hvitserk leaned against the table to be able to see your face, with his hand loosely on your right hip; Sigurd's foot nudged yours encouragingly. You knew without them verbally saying so, that you had their full support, no matter what you said or ever needed, they had your back. "Ugh. Fine, okay. I, um, I told him that you guys were my harem and I was dating all of you." You rushed out, your gaze immediately dropping to the wood table, unable to convince yourself to see their expressions after. 

 For a second there was silence before the guys erupted in cheers and laughter. 

 "Hell yeah, that's our girl!"

 "Harem. Ha! You're more woman than that bastard could handle."

 Ubbe slyly looked at you, tugging on your hand until you met his gaze. "And you keep your men coming back for more?"

 "Um, right. I may have….mentioned….that I have needs and you guys, um, make sure I am very satisfied….and I know how to keep you guys coming back for more….yep. That's it. Oh gods, I'm going to go die now."

 Hvitserk's arm wrapped around your waist, keeping you pinned before you could even try and slip away like you wanted to, thank you very much. "Oh, I like this feisty side of you. Why haven't we seen her before?"

 "She gets me into trouble." You mumbled, as they laughed at your response. 

 "She sounds like fun. I'd date her in a heartbeat." Sigurd wiggled his eyebrows. 

 "What's wrong with you?" Ivar demanded. "I'd date y/n, feisty side or not. She's perfect." He loudly smacked a kiss to your temple. 

 "Guys…." You groaned, becoming slightly overwhelmed with the attention. The pterodactyls in your stomach were now dancing to a new tune and not just of embarrassment.  

 "I have to agree with my brothers, this is a new side of you but we like her." Ubbe winked at you, making your breath hitch for a moment. "Tell her she's allowed to visit whenever but we still like y/n either way."

 Hvitserk nuzzled your neck, making you squirm and your heart to race. "I bet that guy is jealous now."

 Throwing his head back, Ivar shouted. "Fuck him!"

 Sigurd took up the chant. "Yeah, fuck him! She's our woman!" 

 "WOULD YOU SHUT UP! THERE ARE CHILDREN AROUND FOR CHRIST'S SAKE!" An elderly man nearby yelled at your group. 

 It was only now that you noticed all the blatant stares the five of you were receiving from those sitting at tables nearby or walking past on the boardwalk. 

 "Oh, I am terribly sorry, sir. You are correct. We were just getting ready to leave." Ubbe placated, a grin still on his face. "Let's head back home."

 The five of you scrambled off the picnic table, laughter still surrounding you like a bubble of warmth that could rival the sun. Heading back to the shared apartment, you found yourself walking between Ubbe and Ivar. Sigurd and Hvitserk walked in front or turned around and walked backwards to make eye contact with you, a few winks thrown your way, making your face heat up again.  

 "You know," Ivar began, "as the youngest, I feel I should have special privileges. Like, I get to have her on the first day or I get to sleep in her bed whenever I want." 

 "No, that certainly sounds like privileges due to the eldest. Which would be me." Ubbe corrected, slipping his hand into yours. 

 You startled at the contact but did not pull away. When Ivar's hand snagged yours, you almost jumped. Your gaze darted from Ivar to Ubbe but both continued walking like nothing had occurred, forcing you to keep moving. It was just an inkling but you wondered if something had changed. Before you could ask, the brothers kept talking, continuing a conversation that left you baffled.

 Hvitserk turned around to walk backwards, giving you a flirty wink. "You two can share her bed but we all know she would want to sleep with me more since I'm the most handsome." 

 "I make her laugh more!" Sigurd argued, trying to punch Hvitserk in the shoulder but the other brother darted away laughing. 

 "A puppy makes her laugh more than you, dipshit." Ivar retorted, sticking his crutch out as Hvitserk moved, causing him to almost trip and fall on his face. 

 "What the hell?" Hvitserk demanded, a goofy grin still on his face. 

 Ivar rolled his eyes, giving your hand a squeeze. "Even sober, Hvitserk can't walk in a straight fucking line."

 You could not help but giggle at the affronted look on Hvitserk's face. 

 "Hmmm….we'll have to figure out some kind of rotating schedule so her time is spent equally with all of us." Ubbe said in all seriousness, continuing the conversation. 

 "Wait….what? WHAT?" You stopped in your tracks. Your mind whirled as you tried to make sense of what Ubbe was implying. The conversation you had been listening to but not understanding, the pieces seemed to suddenly click into place. Your gaze flittered like a hummingbird from one brother to another. "I thought….I mean, it was…."

 Hvitserk slipped between you and Ivar, snaking his arm through yours and guiding you to move again. "Nope, we're your harem now and you're our woman."

 "How about boss bitch? She's our boss bitch?" Ivar asked from just behind you. 

 Ubbe resumed his spot on your other side, shoving Sigurd away when he stopped in front of him. "That could be rude." 

 "How about our angel?" Sigurd offered.  

 "Why do you even keep fucking talking? All your ideas are shit." Ivar grumbled loudly. When a woman walking by gasped loudly, Ivar turned to glare at her. "Fucking what? I wasn't fucking talking to you!"

 "Oh no." You murmured, sharing an exasperated look with Ubbe. You peeked over your shoulder at Ivar. "Come on, honey. It's not worth it."

 He huffed but started walking again. "Fuck yeah, I got a pet name, bitches."

 "I still need one…" Hvitserk whined from beside you.

 Sigurd turned around. "Me too! It better not be 'sweetie' or something."

 You threw your hands up. "I'll think of something! Dammit! I wasn't prepared for this!"

 Sigurd nodded, still walking backwards. "We still need a name for y/n."

 "How about our darling? Y/n is our darling?" Ubbe shrugged. 

 "I still like boss bitch." Ivar grumbled. 

 "Oh my gods, what is my life right now?" You laughed, shaking your head. 

 "Just wait until we get home….I promise your life won't ever be the same." Hvitserk kissed your cheek, making your face heat up. 

 A smack on your ass had you whipping around to stare at Ivar in shock. 

 "Yeah, that's my ass right there. Can't wait to finally touch it." Ivar muttered. His roguish smile grew wider when he saw you gulp. 

 "Ah….what?" You turned to look up at Ubbe as he stole your hand once again, pressing a quick kiss to your knuckles before entwining your fingers. 

 "We have a promise to live up to and we have to make sure our girl is very satisfied." He purred out the last two words, sending a shiver down your spine.  

 "What's that mean?" You glanced around at the brothers but they just chuckled, dragging you in the direction of your shared apartment as quickly as they could without leaving Ivar behind. "Guys….guys?"

 "You're ours now." Hvitserk whispered into your ear. "And we're yours."

 Your stomach flipped at his sultry tone and his words. But it was the hungry looks from the brothers that made your womb clench and your hands tighten in Ubbe and Hvitserk's grasps. 

 There was one thing you were positive on….that after today, nothing would ever be the same. 

 And your heart raced in anticipation. 

[malenamoonlight]

I remember watching the season 1 of Outlander and enjoying it, but I didn't go forward, I don't know... as much as I love time travel stories, for some reason, I ended up abandoning it. But the experience of reading the books is simply astonishing. I wasn't really expecting it. I usually don’t pick romances, but I just felt that, the way the person recommended the book to me, I should read it... It was like I wanted to feel the taste of what she’s describing me. Does it make any sense?? Lmao. Anyway, that’s a really good and surprising recommendation. And, mentally, Caitriona is still my Claire and Sam is still my Jamie...!