#ubbe x torvi

[sigridsdottir]

vikings + ubbe & torvi (1/?)

none of these pics are mine. if u want credit for any edits, please let me know! :)

[at1nys-blog]

Masterlist

【Ragnar Lothbrok】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ nothing yet

【Lagertha】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ nothing yet

【Björn Ragnarsson】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ nothing yet

【Floki&Helga】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ nothing yet

【Athlestan】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ nothing yet

【Rollo】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ nothing yet

【Siggy】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ nothing yet

【Aslaugh】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ nothing yet

【Ubbe Ragnarsson】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ nothing yet

【Hvitserk Ragnarsson】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ My own Valkyrja

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ more to come

【Sigurd Ragnarsson】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ nothing yet

【Ivar Ragnarsson】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ nothing yet

【Halfdan the black】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ nothing yet

【Harald Finehair】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ nothing yet

【Torvi】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ nothing yet

【Heahmund】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ nothing yet

【Gunnhild】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ nothing yet

【Kalf】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ nothing yet

【Kjetill Flatnose】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ nothing yet

【Yidu】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ nothing yet

[we-are-only-halfway-home93]

Come and Lay the Roses 36- Angel of Mercy- [Ivar x OC]

Summary: Aaline and Ivar are finally reunited.

Characters: Ivar x OC, Bjorn x Torvi, Ubbe x Margrethe, Hvitserk x Thora, Sigurd x OC, Ragnar, Lagertha

Warnings: arranged marriage, violence, sex, torture, language, mentions of rape/sexual assault

Ch. 35

AN: Wow. It's been a long time. I've been thinking about this chapter for a long time and haven't been able to pin down why I waited so long to update. Part of me blames writer's block, part of me blames my schedule and timing, but the biggest thing I think that kept me from updating was that this would mean the end of this journey.

I came up with the idea for this story in May 2019 and after four years, it's finally finished. I don't think I was ready to end this journey and part with Aaline and the Lothbrok clan. I've been telling myself for weeks that I need to finish it and I've finally decided that I'm ready to end this journey.

I thank all of you who have stuck with me on this adventure.

“Angel of mercy, how did you find me? How did you pick me up again? Angel of mercy, how did you move me? Why am I on my feet again?”

~ “Mercy” by OneRepublic

She was warm. A marked difference from the last few weeks of her existence. She inhaled deeply and slowly, allowing the world to come back into focus. She blinked and surveyed the room she was in. 

It was her room. Her and Ivar’s. The curtains were closed except for a six inch gap that allowed sunlight to stream in and light up the dim room. There was just enough to maneuver the room but not wake her.

She shifted and winced at the sharp pain that lanced through her back. It would’ve been gracious to call the bed she’d slept on for the last few weeks a cot. It was barely more than a metal frame with a threadbare mattress. The metal bars had dug painfully into her bones for the few days she tried to sleep on it. Eventually she took to sleeping on the floor. It was more comfortable by far but still gave her stiff muscles. Sleeping on a real mattress had done little to ease the ache. 

She shifted slowly up to her elbows and glanced around. Clothes were littered on the floor. A serving tray of dirty dishes sat on the dresser across the room and a half full glass of water on the nightstand. She looked at the alarm clock and noted that it was the middle of the afternoon. 

She didn’t know how long she’d slept or how many days had passed since her rescue. She felt grimy and dirty and knew she hadn’t been bathed since then. She decided not to wait around for someone to help her and hoisted herself out of the bed. 

With stiff legs, she made her way to the bathroom and blinked rapidly against the bright white light that penetrated her eyes. She smiled at the bouquet of black roses that were situated in the middle of the counter. Ivar had even left a short note expressing his love. He didn’t date stamp it so she didn’t know when he’d written it but she settled it back on the counter anyway, contentment thriving through her veins. 

She switched the shower head on high and undressed. Someone, probably Ivar, had dressed her simply. She pulled the black comfort t-shirt over her head and slipped her panties down her legs. The dirt and grime from the concrete room she’d been held in still decorated her body in streaks of gray and black and brown. She looked at her face in the mirror and narrowed her eyes at the vibrant purple bruise along her jaw and the dried blood that had caked itself in her nostrils and along her upper lip. 

She tried to comb the rat's nest that was her hair so she didn’t tangle it further in the shower but there was little hope for the strands. She pushed it back from her face and stepped into the shower when the steam fogged up the mirror beyond sight. 

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly through her mouth. The hot air filled her lungs and she felt herself relax. Her muscles began to unclench and she could feel her body disengaging from fight or flight mode. 

Once the trembling in her hands had stopped, she picked up Ivar’s shampoo and dropped a generous dollop in her hand. She massaged the minty soap through her hair and shivered as her scalp began to tingle. 

She combed her fingers through the knots as best she could, wincing at the extra sharp tugs that befell her scalp when she came to a particularly vicious snarl. She rinsed the lather and began again, working to clean all the grease and grime from her hair that she could manage.

She used her own rose scented body wash to scrub the dirt and grime from her body, scrubbing twice like she did for her hair, before turning to the leave in conditioner. She worked the lather into her hair before tilting her head back and closing her eyes, letting the hot water pelt her chest and stomach. 

She startled at the sound of the bathroom slamming open. She barely had time to shut the water off before the shower door slid open and she was pulled into Ivar’s arms. He didn’t seem to mind that she was soaking wet and dampening his clothes. He pulled her out of the steam and lifted her, settling her on the counter top. She shivered against the temperature difference and he left her arms only long enough to wrap a towel around her shoulders. 

He returned to her embrace and she wrapped her arms and legs around him fully, holding him in the embrace of her body. She felt him sign against her neck and knew it was a weight leaving his shoulders. He pulled back and pushed her hair behind her ears with the flat of his palm. She nuzzled into the contact. 

“Are you alright, my love?” He asked, his fingers combing through the wet strands of her hair. She nodded against his palm and tangled her fingers in the longer strands of hair at the nape of his neck. 

“How many people did you kill searching for me?” She asked. He smirked and stepped out of her embrace. He took a second towel from the rack on the wall and began meticulously drying her off. He started from the top, softly stroking the towel over her hair, squeezing the ends. He trailed it across her shoulders and down her arms, stroking over the crease of her elbow and over the backs of her hands. He even toweled off the spaces between her fingers.

“Innumerable. There is no number that will equal how precious your life is to me.” He answered. He brought the towel to her legs and traced her thighs and hips. She sucked in a soft breath when he gently toweled off the space between her legs, stroking the curls and dragging between the crease of her thigh. He smirked before stepping back and lifting first one leg and then the other, settling the balls of each foot on his chest and he dried her calves and feet. 

When he was satisfied, he pulled open the mirror and reached for her lotion and moisturizer. She closed her eyes and he traced his fingers gently over the planes of her face, taking care with her bruises. He rubbed in her moisturizer before opening her lotion and smoothing his hands over her chest. She shuddered when he worked the lather into her breasts, the spaces of his fingers catching on her nipples in a way that she wasn’t a hundred percent certain was accidental. 

She opened her eyes when he withdrew and almost shouted when he lifted her from the counter and returned to the bedroom. She let him settle her on the bed as he pulled a new shirt, his, and new underwear, hers, from the dresser.

He took her breath away when he dropped to a knee before her and, not once breaking eye contact, slid her panties up her legs. She shifted so he could settle them over her hips. He hovered over her, his mouth a hair's breadth away from hers but denied her a kiss. “If you’re trying to seduce me, it’s working.” She whispered. He grinned before picking up the new t-shirt and sliding it over her head without ceremony. She laughed as she pulled her head through the neck and slid her arms through the sleeves.

Ivar grew serious as soon as she reappeared and she twisted around on the bed to face him. She let him examine her face, which she knew was a mess of cuts and bruises. “I’m fine, Ivar.” She said.

He met her eyes and gave her a sad smile. She leaned forward into his space. “You know, this whole time I’ve been awake, you haven’t kissed me.” Ivar tilted his head to the side, his smile growing playful. “Kiss me, husband.” She said, and Ivar was unable to do anything but obey. 

He leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers, his tongue seeking entrance almost immediately. She moaned and pressed forward, deepening their kiss. Ivar groaned and pulled back, licking his lip. She grinned at him, blood on her teeth. Ivar growled and leaned forward, his hand settling at her throat and squeezing.

She groaned as Ivar tilted her head to the side and trailed kisses down the side of her throat. They left fire in their wake and Aaline sighed, settling her hands on Ivar’s forearms as he maneuvered her head whichever way he wanted.

She trailed her hands up his arms to his shoulders, tightening her fingers in the fabric of his t-shirt. “There’s something that I have to tell you.” Ivar hummed as he licked a line up the left side of her throat. She moaned when he nipped at the hinge of her jaw. 

“I’ve been meaning to say it for awhile butー” She’s cut off as a whimper works its way past her lips when Ivar sucked a mark into her throat at the curve of her neck and shoulder. Ivar hummed and switched sides, trailing nipping kisses up the other side of her neck. She knew she’d have marks to show for his affections. 

“What did you want to say?” He whispered in her ear, sending shivers down her spine. He traced the curve of it with his tongue before biting the lobe. She gasped and clutched tighter as his shoulders. 

“I didn’t tell you before. I was afraid.” Ivar pulled back and met her eyes, his hands moving to cup her face. His thumbs stroked over her cheekbones. She blinked at him, her hands releasing his shirt and smoothing out the fabric.

“I love you.” She whispered, her voice trembling. Ivar hummed and stroked his thumb across her cheek. He leaned for and settled his forehead against hers.

“As I love you.” He responded. Aaline released a watery laugh before surging forward and kissing him. Ivar laughed and opened his mouth to her, letting her devour him. She sat up on her knees and pressed bodily against him. Ivar groaned and stroked his hands down her back, reveling in the feeling of his wife safe in his arms again. 

Aaline giggled as Ivar’s hands smoothed up her back, taking her t-shirt with him on his way. She settled in his lap, relief flowing through her veins as her husband proceeded to make love to her.

@dreamlesswonder86 @youbloodymadgenius @inforapound @bcarolinablr @funmadnessandbadassvikings @jay-bel @feyrearcheron-nightcourt @londongal2810 @khiraeth @didiintheblog @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @xbellaxcarolinax @shannygoatgruff @kingniazx @revolution-starter @0hsappho @love-all-things-writing

[sammyjadedavis]

Ivar: I can’t deal with theses guys anymore…

Ubbe: It’s not like I’m the one who was all for the marriage?

Hvitserk: Though you did say you were going to be the best man…

Bjorn: Yeah and I didn’t even let him be my best man, also you lot shut up about me and my wife.

Ivar: You know that loses it’s heat when you’ve had how many wives now?

Bjorn: More then dad.

Hvitserk: Well you’ve had Porrun, Snaefrid, Ingrid, Gunnhild and my personal favourite Torvi. Thank Thor you married her twice!

Ivar: You really are a whore. Ha.

Torvi: Watch what you guys say or he’ll react the same way he did last time you lot did this?

[ulfrsmal]

brutally honest opinion on ships: Torvi and Ubbe

OH GODS HERE WE GO. This is going to be brutal and negative, so fans of this ship look away now.

I HATE THEM.

I. HATE. THEM.

Well, I hate them together, not as characters, though I do have a lot of thoughts and gripes with Torvi but that's for another time maybe. In Spanish we say that they don't stick together (=go well together) even with industrial cement. No pegan ni con cemento industrial! WHY are they together. WHY.

Don't get me wrong, in another type of story, the whole "babysitter who ends up dating the boy she babysat" could be interesting. We could go the dark exploratory route (my personal fave) and make it commentary on predatory women in positions of power, plus what it means to be a male victim in a society that places so much value on men-as-perpetrators.

But that would mean granting Ubbe some depth that isn't tied back to Ragnar and to how h*rst seemed to want Ubbe-as-a-Ragnar-clone, (and bless JPS for his acting as Ubbe), which I know is impossible. This isn't the show for that. And I know it isn't, but it!! still hurts!! There's so much POTENTIAL for fucked up DD;DNE surrounding these two and the "relationship" they have. I'm using quotation marks because, while gramatically accurate, that word doesn't feel right to me.

O H and another thing. Torvi had been with Björn before she was with Ubbe. Why did she choose Ubbe? Why did she bounce from (at best half-)brother from brother like that? Just so h*rst could maintain her in the narrative? Because I can rationalise it but it wasn't explained in canon I don't think. Makes her seem predatory at best. Which again could've been intersting to explore! But noooo vikings doesn't go there because Torvi can do no wrong.

UGH.

[disasterofastory]

The good guy (Hvitserk x Reader)

The good guy Hvitserk x Reader Warnings: Reader is a few years older. And let's pretend that the age difference between Bjorn and his brothers is much smaller. Oral.

Summary: mordern!Hvitserk wants to show you he is the one you need.

The fake leather sticks to the back of your thighs as you push yourself next to the wall in the booth Bjorn chose for the night. A small grimace contorts your face at the uncomfortable feeling. Reaching down, you grab the hem of your skirt to pull on the fabric. Jeans may have been a better choice, but it doesn't matter now.

The pub is loud and smells like cheap beer and spicy snacks. The noises of the others mix with the game playing on the TV in the corner. Your eyes land on the screen for a second, and when the ball doesn't reach the goal, your attention turns back to the pair in front of you.

Bjorn and his girlfriend sit next to each other. The blonde man's arm is around the girl's shoulder. She is busy with her beer while her eyes scan the crowded place. Her makeup softly glints under the lights as she turns her head to the side. "Hvitserk and Ubbe will be there in a few," Bjorn says after a few seconds. His bright eyes are still on the screen of his phone. "Torvi too." "Won't it be awkward?" You ask him, glancing at Gunnhild. "It's fine," the man replies. "It was two years ago."

Their relationship didn't end well between them, and when you heard about the new love blossoming between Torvi and Ubbe, you couldn't imagine the family holidays at the Ragnarsson household.

"If you say so," you hum, holding your glass to your lips and frown when you notice Bjorn's smirking at you with mischief in his eyes. "What?" You ask him. Gunnhild grins too. "I heard something the other day," Bjorn muses. "And?" You ask. "A conversation between Ubbe and Hvitserk," Bjorn adds. "You know what?" You groan at his teasing. "I don't care. Don't tell me!" "Okay," he continues grinning. All of you know you won't keep long from questioning the burly man to spill the tea. There must be a good reason why Bjorn wants to tell you something about his two younger brothers. "Oh, come on!" You groan again. Your palm lands on the wooden table with a smack. "Tell me!" "Hvitserk likes you." Gunnhild is the one who has mercy on you. Excitement glints in her eyes as she waits for your reaction. "I mean... we are friends," you tell her, shrugging. You know all of Bjorn's brothers. Ubbe and Hvitserk are your friends, and Sigurd and Ivar don't hate your presence either. "You don't understand," Bjorn shakes his head. "He likes-likes you." You freeze, staring at them. "No," you reply, and your friends laugh. "Yes," Bjorn argues. "I heard them talking about you a few days ago. He is quite smitten with you." "And they are here," Gunnhild adds, keeping her eyes on the entrance of the pub.

You feel your stomach dropping while you watch the newcomers approaching your table. Half of your mind still tries to process Bjorn's words. Can it be true? You always thought about the brothers as Bjorn's younger siblings. Nothing more. Nothing less.

"Hey, guys!" Hvitserk's cheerful voice breaks the line of your thoughts. Your eyes wander up at the young man who is already watching you. Heat creeps up on your face at his attention on you, and you force your gaze to move onto the couple next to him. And it doesn't get better. Ubbe and Torvi watch you with a strange glint in their eyes. Or maybe you are just imagining it. "I need a drink," you gasp. "Can I get you anything?" "I will go with you," Bjorn says, standing up to follow you to the bar. "Sit down, guys," he adds. "We will be back in a minute."

"You think too hard," Bjorn says, standing next to you while you wait for your orders. "I'm not," you murmur, looking down at the counter. "I'm fine." "What's wrong?" He asks, leaning closer. "I mean, I'm the most handsome brother, but Hvitserk is a good guy too." "How can you tell that?" You ask, frowning. Eyes still on the wooden surface. "He is your little brother." "And I know him," Bjorn reasons. "You always choose the wrong guys," he continues, and you grimace. He is right. "Hvitserk would be good." "He is younger than me." The man scoffs. "So? Look, Hvitserk is like a puppy. And I mean it in a good way. And the younger lads always try to prove themself harder..." "Yeah, I remember," you murmur. "You really proved yourself back then to a lot of women." "Yeah," he nods, not trying to deny his past. "But it was me. Hvitserk is different." A heavy sigh leaves your lips, and you can't help but feel pathetic. You are already deep in a relationship that doesn't even exist. Hvitserk said nothing about his feelings for you. Maybe it isn't even true. Maybe Bjorn heard it wrong, and you stress yourself for nothing.

You are so stupid.

When you get back to the table, Ubbe and Torvi are already sitting at the end of the table on two chairs while Hvitserk stands next to the booth to give you enough space to climb back to your seat. "Thanks," you murmur and trying not to jump when his hand lands on the small of your back as you walk past by him.

You are so deep in your panicked thoughts you don't even notice Hvitserk's eyes on you. And it's really surprising since it seems like the young man can't tear his attention away from you. The skirt highlights the curve of your hips and is short enough to give enough space for his wandering gaze on your bare thighs. His palm tingles with the need to put his hand on you. He is sure you are soft and warm and everything he wants.

Ubbe's snickering shakes him up from his staring. He doesn't even feel bad about it. He feels good and content when he looks at you. Hvitserk doesn't even know when and how his feelings turned about you. You were always the girl who came over to his older brother, and before he knew it, he wanted you to spend time with him too. And wanted much more too.

"And how's the game?" Ubbe asks, glancing up at the TV. None of you care about it. "They run," Gunnhild replies. "A lot." Hvitserk can't help but smile at your laugh. His fingers curl around his beer to keep himself from touching you.

The night goes amazingly. You laugh and drink a lot but can't seem to forget the closeness of Hvitserk next to you. He radiates warmth and happiness. The cologne he uses covers your senses. His thigh brushes against yours from time to time.

"Halfdan?" Bjorn's voice brings you back to reality. When you look at him, he is already watching you with a smirk playing on his lips. "Yeah. Y/N could talk about him." "You know him?" Torvi asks, surprised. You shrug. "We dated for a little while." Hvitserk frowns at your words, but you don't notice it. His lips press into a thin line. "How was it?" You shrug again. "We didn't match." You went on a few dates with Halfdan, and while you enjoyed your time together, you found out soon enough that Halfdan was ready for a lot of things but not for a serious relationship. "Maybe you should date his brother," Ubbe suggests, laughing. "He was already married at least three times." "Yeah," you hum. "My dream is to be his fourth wife." "Isn't he old for you a bit?" Hvitserk asks, and your company needs all its strength not to laugh at the blonde man's jealous words. Heat rises up in your veins as you turn your head and look at him. A playful grin pulls on your lips. "Do you have something against older men?" Hvitserk doesn't care about older men or the brothers if they keep their distance from you. "Maybe we should go," Ubbe suddenly says, already standing up from his seat before his brother can say something to embarrass himself. "Ubbe is right," Bjorn nods. "It's late." You and Hvitserk need a few seconds to tear your gazes away from each other. "Hvitserk, maybe you should walk Y/N home," Torvi says, linking her arm over his boyfriend's. "It's dark outside." "Oh, no," you start. "You don't have to." "I do," he replies. "A walk would be nice." "I bet," Bjorn murmurs with a smirk. "I will call you tomorrow," he adds louder, watching you until you nod.

After saying goodbye to the others, you stay alone with Hvitserk. He walks by your side in silence for a few seconds. "So that's why you didn't come over for the few last weeks?" He asks after a while, keeping his gaze on the ground the whole time. His hands are in his coat pockets. "What do you mean?" You ask back. "Halfdan," he explains. "Oh," you hm. "No. I had a lot of things to do, and now that Bjorn moved out, I didn't really have the reason to go over." "Ivar misses you," he says, and you laugh. "I'm sure." "No, seriously," he clears his throat. "You can still hang out with us, right?" "I mean... yeah, I guess." You can feel your pulse in your throat as you wait for where this conversation will lead. "Or you could hang out just with me," he adds. "Ivar is boring anyway." You laugh again just to earn yourself more time to think about your next words. "I'm sure you have better things to do than spending your time with me," you tell him at the end. Your voice is quiet and unsure. You don't know what you should do. "Not really," he says. You can see his arm moving from the corner of your eyes. "I like being with you." Your heart jumps up to your throat next to your pulse when you feel his warm hand on you. His fingers are intertwined with yours. "Hvitserk," breathing out his name, you stop in front of the door of your flat. Your teeth sink into the flesh of your bottom lip as you look down at your hands. "You are really beautiful tonight." You laugh. That damn Ragnarsson charm. "Hvitserk..." He steps closer. His free hand lands under your jaw to push your head up until your eyes meet. His thumb pulls out your lip from between your teeth. "What are you doing?" You ask him. You have to force the words out because of your barely working lungs. "I like you, Y/N," he says. No embarrassment or uncertainty shows on his face. "Hvitserk..." You sigh, trying to say something, but your brain doesn't really want to work either. He smirks. "I like it when you say my name." "You can't... It's not... You are..." He patiently waits for you to finish at least one sentence. The young man really likes the way you fluster in his presence. His thumb still caresses the soft line of your bottom lip, and his other hand slips to your waist to pull you closer. Your front is pressed against his. He can't help but glance down at your cleavage. "Are your roommate home?" "My eyes are up, Hvitserk," you tell him, smirking. "I know," he grins. "They are pretty too." "Be serious," you tell him even though you can't swipe the smile off your face. "I am," he replies, looking up into your eyes. "I like you, Y/N, ever since you came over four years ago, crying because your ex broke your heart." "Really? You needed my broken heart to notice me?" You tease. "Of course not," he says. "You were always pretty in my eyes. But that was the moment I realized I would be much better for you." "Hvitserk..." "What? Don't you like me? Or because of Bjorn? I don't think he would have anything against us... I mean, did you see his love life?" "No," you reply, shaking your head. "He wouldn't mind, I'm sure." "Then what?" He asks, pressing you closer to himself. "My age? It's just a few years, Y/N. It's nothing." "Hvitserk, I know you," you reason. "You are almost as bad as Halfdan. And don't tell me it's not true. I saw the different girls you brought home almost every week." "But they weren't you," he says. "They weren't important. But you are." "Hvitserk, I really want someone for the long run..." you tell him honestly. "I want a good relationship that can grow into more in the future. I don't play games anymore." "And I can be that guy," he says. "Let me prove it, Y/N." His words fan over your lips. "Let me in." When you say nothing, he leans even closer and kisses you for the first time. His lips are soft and taste like cheap beer.

And something snaps inside of you.

Your arms curl around his neck as you let him deepen the kiss. The gentle nibbles become bites on your bottom lip until he coaxes your mouth open for free access to your tongue. His kiss is searing and takes your breath away at once. Your lungs burn when he breaks away.

His words vibrate on your swollen lips when he speaks. His forehead is against yours. "Open the door, Y/N." "Hm?" You hum, still dizzy. A soft smile tugs at the corner of his lips. His hand slips to your ass to grab a handful of your flesh. A grunt echoes in his chest at the feeling. "The door, Y/N. Open it." "Oh," you gasp. "Right."

He watches you fiddling with your keys with amusement. You are flustered and breathless. The taste of your lips still tingles on his own. His heated gaze rakes over your body from behind. The skirt hugs your bottom perfectly. His hand moves on its own accord to touch you again, but he decides against it at the last moment. No, he won't act like a dog in heat.

At least not in front of your neighbors.

Hvitserk barely slides inside your house before pushing the door close with his leg. His hands find your waist again, and when you turn to face him, he kisses you again. Your back falls against the wall, and your fingers curl into his blonde hair at the nape of his neck. His presence covers your every sense. Your nostrils are filled with his smell, your fingertips are warm on his skin, and your lips burn with his taste.

"Go to the couch," he hums against your lips before kissing you again. His tongue ghosts over the line of your bottom lip.

You need every strength in your body to do as he says.

"Sit down." "You are really commanding," you state, still following his words. "I want to taste you before you change your mind," he says. In contrast to his words, his smile is soft and almost innocent. "You... what?" You gasp, shocked. His smile turns into something much more wicked as he falls to his knees before you. Even the view is enough to make your thighs shake and your inside tremble. "Open those legs for me, Y/N," he grins. His long fingers fiddle with the straps of your high heels, moving up to your calves, and when he reaches the curve of your knees, he rises both of your legs after another to kiss them. "Hvitserk!" You gasp, slapping down on the couch under you as you grab the edge when he pulls your legs apart. "You don't have to." "Oh, Y/N," he hums. "But I want to so much." "Oh!"

The breath you keep inside your lungs burns you. The skirt runs up on your thighs as your legs open under Hvitserk's heavy gaze. His fingers dig into your thighs. He plays and gropes the flesh all the way to your bottom. Another gasp escapes your lips when the man grabs you again to tug you to the edge of your seat. The skirt you wear hides nothing anymore. "It's pretty," he grins, playing with the lace of your panties. "Interesting, I always imagined you as a black lingerie woman." "I have black ones, too," you breathe out quietly. He smirks. "Maybe next time." His thumb glides over your pussy through the thin fabric. He can feel your folds and the wetness that coats your most sensitive parts. Your thighs jerk when his touch reaches your clit. He teases the hard bud until your panties are soaked. "You are so wet already," he says with satisfaction dripping from his words. It really makes him happy. It means to him that he is not the only one who feels attraction. You are not here in front of him out of pity or worry that you would hurt his feelings and damage your friendship with his oldest brother. You really feel something. Something that can grow into more if he doesn't fucks it up. "Let me..." he hums, and without waiting for your answer, he pulls down your panties with a swift motion. Soon, the fabric lies on the ground, forgotten. The cold air on your pussy makes your whole body shiver with anticipation. "You have no idea how many times I imagined you just like this," he says, staring at your center intently. "Open and wet for me." His finger glides over your folds, smearing your wetness in the process. "Hvitserk," you breathe out his name, urging him to stop his teasing already. Your whole body is tense with waiting and burning desire. "I'm here," he smirks, leaning closer. His words fan over your aching pussy. Your thighs want to close on their own accord, but the blonde man's shoulders stop them. His fingers dig deeper into your flesh. He can't get enough of the softness of your skin. His cock is painfully hard in his jeans, but he forces himself to focus on something else. And it's not a difficult thing to do when you are in front of him with spread legs and soaked cunt. A sharp gasp escapes your lips when he closes the space between you. His tongue flattens on your pussy, taking a teasing lick of your wetness. Your juices spread across his tastebuds. His eye fall shut at the feeling.

Hvitserk devours you to his heart's content while you squirm and whine under him. His tongue flicks your clit a few times before sinking his finger into your pussy and sucking at you at the same time. Your back arches, and your mouth falls open into an airy moan. You can feel the throbbing of your heart between your legs. It jumps and speeds up at every swirl and push Hvitserk does with his tongue and fingers. He spreads his two fingers inside you, stretching your walls and finding every sweet spot that makes you cry for more. To cry for him. "Hivtserk," you moan. "I-I-" "Cum," he groans into your pussy. His eyes bore into yours. "Cum for me, Y/N. Let me drink from you." Your head falls back at the whirlwind that runs through your body. Your muscles are taut, almost painfully so. You can't even breathe as the climax washes over you with full force. Your fingers find their way into his curls. You tug on the blonde strands, and Hvitserk moans. He wants you to use him for your own pleasure. He wants you to find pleasure in him, not just in the bed but everywhere else too. After years of silently watching you and craving your body with equal need with your laugh and pretty smile, he is ready for everything. He is ready to accept everything you want to give him.

When you win back your consciousness, Hvitserk is still between your legs, resting his head on your thigh with a cheeky grin on his lips. His lips glint with your wetness. "Hey." Heat creeps up on your face. "Hi." "I will pick you up at seven tomorrow," he suddenly says, standing up from his kneeling position. A quick kiss on your lips reminds you of what happened a few minutes ago. "What?" You gasp. "Hvitserk... what?" You watch his receding form as he makes his way to the entrance door of your home. "I thought..." You point at your room with your thumb. The confusion is clear on your face. When he looks back from the door, he can't help but stop for a second. You are so goddamn beautiful. Your hair is a mess, your eyes still shine with the remains of your climax, and your lips are swollen and red from his kisses. He really needs his every self-control not to turn back and take you to your room for more. "Nope," he says, popping the p. "Date first. Tomorrow. At seven." "But..." "It was just a taste, Y/N, because I couldn't help myself." And with that, he closes the door, leaving you alone with shaking legs and a dizzy mind.

Oh, gods!

[bjornswoman]

Foe's regret I

Author's note: Hello there! Here comes this fic you chose to come. At this part I have to say that one more part has left to come from this series. Thank you for supporting me. I wasn't planning on delivering this today. I had it in store for Christmas as a gift to you all, but I couldn't keep myself from posting it, so here it is. I hope you will enjoy it as much as I did.

Pairing: Ubbe x Reader.

Genre: Mini!series, drama, angst, violence, slight romance.

Summary: Your life is about to change again, probably this time things will get better... or not.

Warnings: Violence (emotional and physical), mentions of murder (strangulation), strong language.

My enemy and me masterlist | Nemesis's wish | Enemy's cruelty | Rival's touch |

Days and nights had past but everything felt the safe inside your prison. Only this time you weren't only miserable and hopeless, but also betrayed and filthy after that disastrous of a night.

You wanted to run away from Kattegat – from Ubbe. But you knew that this wasn't even an option – not after what had happened the previous time. You wouldn't even dare to lay a foot outside the Hall without someone on your tail.

However, that wasn't the only reason behind this. Your son had a huge impact on your decision. Even if you ever found the opportunity to leave this place for good, Ragnar would hate you for taking him away from his father. A father who was Ubbe Ragnarsson – a magnificent warrior, descendant of Odin himself. The child was his first-born – his heir – you had no right to take him away from him.

On the other hand, you couldn't leave on your own. You couldn't stay away from your son – your heart wouldn't bear not to see him for a day let alone a whole life. The only meaningful thing you had in this life was your son – without him you were dead.

The thundering sound of a goblet falling startled you and forced you out of your thoughts into the atrocious reality. Around you men and women were laughing and drinking, fighting and eating, talking and dancing. It was another feast that you had to pretend to be the perfect wife. False smiles and identical words and promises were all you could see behind the masks of all those pretenders that were surrounding the Hall.

"You don't seem to enjoy yourself." Drunken, slightly hoarse voice spoke from the seat next to yours. It was a familiar one though it didn't belong to your husband – it belonged to his younger brother.

"I am afraid you are mistaken, Hvitserk." You answered and you glanced at the drunk man. Then your eyes went back at the crowd.

You weren't in mood of starting any conversation – even with Hvitserk. You wanted to stay on your seat drinking ale from your goblet until the night was off – and you prayed for it to end soon enough because you couldn't stand seeing her swinging around the Hall giggling with the guests full of your husband's child. And your husband's eyes were only on her, the love of his life – now you knew damn well that he was lying he hated you because he couldn't be with her and you were hating him more than before. More than ever.

"Well, I won't push you to talk if you don't want to, but you should know that if you ever need to spill your guts and let of steam, I'll be here." Those were the realest words you had ever heard coming from someone else – from someone who was too drunk to reconsider the words coming out of his mouth. And yet it didn't seem this way, it seemed like Hvitserk meant each one of them.

You turned your gaze on him properly this time. Maybe he was right you should speak to someone – you should take this weigh off your shoulders, but you knew that Hvitserk couldn't be the one. He was Ubbe's brother and in love with Margrethe. Torvi couldn't be that person either, she was his brother's wife – practically his family.

That resulted to you having no one for once more. You were utterly alone, but you were used to it by now.

"You know that we can't really talk, don't you?" You asked him in low tone of voice and he turned his gaze on you. Green eyes gazing right inside your shuttered soul.

Hvitserk shook his head and chuckled. You looked at him frowning in curiosity.

"Ahh, yes. I almost forgot for a moment that you are more like a bird imprisoned in a golden cage than my brother's wife." You almost smiled at the comparison he managed to make.

"I was never the second as for the first I start to think that the only thing missing is the wings." You tried to play along, but the melancholy didn't let you be as playful as Hvitserk was when he pointed out the similarity between you and a caged bird.

Hvitserk left the goblet on the table and sat properly on his seat, his eyes were only on your figure along with his attention. It was like he was totally sober for a moment.

"You mean he broke your wings the only time you dared to walk out of that cage?"

"Something like that." You smiled sadly, recalling which moment he was talking about.

"And yet you love him. Still."

You frowned. You opened your mouth to protest – to accuse him of lying, to give him one by one all the atrocious reasons that his remark couldn't be true. You almost wanted to rip the collar of your dress and show him the scars of his brother's large hands on your neck of all the time he almost strangled you. But most of all you wanted to yell at him because he dared to say such an awful and offensive thing.

"You don't need to persuade me of the opposite." He continued and grabbed his own goblet taking a long sip of his drink. "I don't know the reason behind all this horrible situation you have to live in – well, in fact, I know it – but I wish things were different between you and him. You are a good woman – you deserve a lot of things and surely this torment isn't one of them. He is a good man as well, but he is stubborn and I can say that he loves you back."

You didn't want to hear anymore. You didn't know which your reaction should be. Not because you were shocked or believed any of his words. You knew that Ubbe didn't love you – he hated you. He had even told you that he loved her that night.

Before Hvitserk could even start again talking about Ubbe's hypothetical love about you, you dumped your own goblet on the table in front of you and left your seat.

"Don't say anything else. Ubbe himself told me that he loves her." You said quickly and stormed in your chamber before Hvitserk could answer you.

You didn't need to hear anything else about Ubbe or Margrethe. In fact, you didn't even want to see them for the rest of the evening. You needed a night away from all this despair – you deserved it after everything you had been through lately.

However, your silence didn't last long because Ubbe stormed in the room more frustrated than you did a few minutes ago.

"What do you want?" You asked him angrily because of his sudden appearance in there.

"Are you out of your mind?" He yelled and kicked the table flipping it over, throwing all the decorations on the floor.

"No, you are out of your mind!" You were yelling too now. You couldn't believe at the audacity of that person. All he did was coming in and yelling at you over and over and over again. It was all a circle happening again and again the same thing and you were tired of re-living the same scene every day.

"I am not the one who caused a whole scene in front of so many people and left! What do you think you are doing?"

"Are you serious? I caused a scene? I was talking with Hvitserk! Just a civilised talking! Something you can't do apparently because all you do is yelling!" You yelled back. All you asked was for a simple night. A silent one which meant away from him and his madness. He was mad – there wasn't any other excuse behind all of his behaviour. However, you couldn't find a proper reason he was in such a state. You hadn't caused any scene in there.

"Don't bring this on me, woman!" He was very angry – you had seen him this way multiple times before and you knew what was to follow. His hands were running through his braids uncontrollably and you couldn't understand the reason he was so mad. "You are the one who humiliated me and my family!" His finger pointed out on you and you scoffed – you couldn't help it – and it enraged him more.

Within a couple of seconds one of his hands was on your throat pressing it until you had no breath in your lugs. Nothing new – just some bruises and marks that you had to hide under your clothing. Ubbe pushed you back on the wall – your back hit so hard that all the inches of your body were shaken.

"You humiliate my name and you have to get punished for it!" He growled and you looked at him as angrily as he eyed you. You weren't going to lose this time – not again. And most importantly you couldn't let him know that you were afraid. He couldn't know.

"What are you going to do that you haven't done yet? What, huh?" You challenged him, looking him in the eyes. You wouldn't back down.

A sardonic smirk formed on his face when he heard your words and his face came closer to yours. You weren't used to be this close to him. Your faces were mere inches apart and without your approval your eyes stared on his masculine features.

"I am going to take Ragnar away from you. You are going to see him again when you will act properly." His tone was normal again, but his nerves weren't. Your eyes widened and you tried to do something you hated yourself for the same moment you did it. You raised your hand and tried to hit him – to slap him on the cheek – but his hand stopped you.

After that, both of his hands were gripping you firmly and this time maybe he would make his dream coming true – he was going to strangle you to death and as he said once; nobody would suspect him.

Your eyes widened again, but this time not because of the fact that he was going to kill you this time, but because you were going to hit him. You had never done that before – never. You had thought about it plenty of times, but never did it.

You closed your eyes waiting for your death and tears rolled from your eyes – tears because you tried to hit him. He had done horrible things, but you – you weren't this beast. Images of your son were flashing before your eyes at you last moments.

But you didn't die at the end of day, because the door opened and Hvitserk along with Sigurd and Bjorn forced Ubbe away from you. They tried to help you when Ubbe was forced away from you, but you stopped them you fell on the floor coughing, trying to breathe normally again.

Bjorn and Sigurd were talking to him as Hvitserk was standing next to you trying to make sure whether you were fine or not.

"He wasn't.... going to kill me." You managed to say with clear difficulty in breathing. All pairs of eyes were following you while you were struggling to stand up.

"It didn't seem this way to me." Bjorn pointed out and you shook your head trying to convince him the thing around.

"I wouldn't kill her." Ubbe spoke finally, his burning blue eyes were only on you as your own eyes were on him. "Now leave us for a moment. We will be alright." He told them and they looked at disbelief before they walked to the door.

"We will be right outside, don't even think about it." Hvitserk warned his brother before all of them were out of the door and stayed just the two of you in the room.

Ubbe didn't try to come close to you, he stayed at his former position and neither of you talked. The atmosphere was suffocating inside the room.

"You were very lucky this time, but next time you will raise your hand on me you won't be that lucky." He warned you in much calmer tone of voice.

It was a threat – another threat.

You hated yourself for trying to hit him. He had never done it, but had done other equally awful things. You wanted to tell how sorry you felt and ask for forgiveness and you would if it was for another person. You would never leave your guard down for him again. You knew better than falling for his tricks again.

"We will see about that." You couldn't keep your mouth from saying it.

"Don't tempt me to finish what I started." Ubbe growled before he was out of the door.

"I'm sorry." You muttered when he was out of the chamber and touched your hurting neck. Tears started streaming from your eyes at the memory of you raising your hand on Ubbe.

After some hours, you un-braided your hair and put on your night-gown ready to lay on your bed, after your son was asleep. You blew out the candles and laid on your bed closing your eyes. But you didn't get to sleep, because the wooden door opened and closed. You kept your eyes shut, but your hand moved under your pillow and wrapped around your dagger's handle.

When you felt the mattress next to you moving, you turned around and pointed the dagger at the man's neck. You could recognise him under the midnight light coming from your window. You knew this person well – fortunately.

"I must confess that I wasn't expecting this." He whispered, but you didn't take the dagger away from his neck. For the first time ever, Ubbe Ragnarsson was under your mercy. That meant that you could do to him anything you liked. This was getting entertaining.

"Why are you here anyway? You should be with your wife." You reminded both of you and moved the dagger closer to the flesh of his throat.

"In case you forgot you are my wife."

"I meant your other wife."

Ubbe didn't seem to want to answer your question probably he – himself – didn't know the reason he was on your bed.

"You know that I could take this little knife of yours easily." He said and touched the tip of your blade. You smirked hoping that he couldn't see it in the dark.

"Yes, but you haven't taken it yet." You heard him chuckling and you smiled.

"No, I haven't." His voice was coming from somewhere closer than you remembered. The dagger was still pressed on his neck, but it seemed as he didn't care at all about its existence – he wasn't afraid of you and that was annoying you even more than his arrogancy.

"I could kill you and nobody could prove it was me." You recollected his own words and used them to upset it, but it had quite different effect than the one you wanted.

As an answer his hand was placed on top of yours – on top of the hand which was holding the dagger on his throat. He guided the blade closer to his flesh and you watched him thrilled as he was pressing his own skin with the sharp knife.

"Do it. Kill me. Nobody deserves to kill me more than you do. If I am to die soon, I'd prefer to be you the one holding the blade soaking in my blood. So, don't hesitate, do it – slice my neck." The smell of blood reached your nostrils and you knew that it came out of him. He had been cut by the blade, but it hadn't been deep enough to be fatal.

You pulled the knife away from Ubbe and dropped it on the stony floor. Your hands were working hard in the darkness trying to reach for his wound. You knew that he was bleeding when your hands me the something liquid streaming – his blood.

You hoped desperately that he couldn't see your face. He couldn't see how upset and worried you were for him. You didn't want him to suppose that you cared – you didn't care. You didn't care at all.

And yet you couldn't stop yourself from lighting the candles again and searching for a cloth to treat him. When you found what you were looking for, you went back to bed. You sat next to his lying form and placed the cloth in the bowl of water. Then, you placed the wet cloth on his wound and he didn't react – he didn't even flinch.

His blue eyes were focused on you trying to stop the blood streaming.

"I thought you would want to get rid of me by now." Ubbe finally spoke and you dared to glance at him for a passing moment. You thought to yourself. You thought that it would be better if he was dead. However, you couldn't picture his death. You were afraid that if you even tried, it would happen. It should have been what all you were waiting for, but it wasn't.

"I have told you, Ubbe, I've never wanted you dead." Your eyes were back on the cut on his throat. It wasn't a fatal wound and it wasn't big enough, but still you couldn't let him bleeding. Not even for some minutes. "Not even after everything that we've been through." You confessed in a soft tone of voice. In such way that you didn't want him to know about that last part. But, now, he knew.

"And yet I would kill you if I had the chance." This was a confess and it made you smile. It wasn't like you weren't afraid that he wasn't going to do it, you were sure that earlier he would have killed you if his brothers hadn't stormed in the room.

Ubbe could kill you easily, but this didn't mean that you could do this to him as well. He didn't care whether your son would grow up having a mother or not, as you did. But this didn't make you change your mind when it should have had. If you were to walk away one day, you would do this and he would be alive. Although, if that ever happened, he wouldn't let you go far enough – he would find you anywhere.

"You have the chance now." You reminded him that you were alone and your gaze met his under the slight light of the candles. You left the cloth in the bowl and placed it on the table close to your bed.

"I can't kill you right now." Ubbe said and stood up from your bed to meet you.

"Why not?"

You hated the way your eyes were magnetised on his imposing figure. It reminded you how much more powerless you were comparing to him. You wanted to force your eyes away, but you couldn't bring yourself to.

Ubbe shook his head trying to fight back a smirk which was forming on his face.

"It feels like you are provoking me into killing you sometimes. You are so annoying and careless and stubborn and I can't keep myself."

His footsteps became heavier when he almost reached you. You didn't make any attempt to get away from him – you stayed on your former position, staring at him.

"From killing me?"

A low chuckle – one so dark that got goosebumps – came out of his mouth and he took a step closer to you. Again, you didn't try to escape which seemed a terrible idea.

You knew that you were asking too many questions that could get you in danger. This man was so unpredictable that you weren't sure when he would snap out of nowhere and try to strangle you again – or this time he wouldn't use his hands.

"Among other things." These words came out darker than it probably meant.

It wasn't long before he was in front of you and his hands were reaching for your skin. They rested on your neck, but not like previously. He wasn't wrapping his hands firmly around you – he was touching you. Just touching. Nothing more – only pure touching. And yet, only pure it wasn't. Nothing was pure between Ubbe and yourself.

His touch was intoxicating and you felt like you needed more of it. You needed this touch in every inch of your body. It was forbidden – Ubbe was forbidden. And that was the exact reason you had to stop this. Because if you didn't, it would ruin you again and this time it would be worse than any other.

You took some steps back. He didn't try to reach you again. Ubbe knew himself that this was a big mistake and it shouldn't happen again.

"Margrethe probably needs you." You told him bitterly. You couldn't even pronounce her name without feeling this weird feeling which had the exact taste with poison. "She's close to give birth to your child. You should be there for them both."

Ubbe knew that you were speaking the truth – he should have been with his wife – and yet he was in your chambers standing opposite you, feeling attracted to this room – feeling attracted to you.

"You didn't need me though."

It surprised you to hear him saying that. However, it was another truth that couldn't go by unnoticed or stay hidden between you two. You didn't lie to each other because you didn't care about the opinion the other person would form. At least that was what it was supposed to be like.

Indeed almost each month of your pregnancy you were alone, but you liked it. You didn't want Ubbe around – you hated the idea that he would eventually be around when this child would be born.

"But she does." You managed to mutter. You were trying to bring back those feelings. Those you had for him during your pregnancy – when he had been on another raiding and you hadn't seen him for plenty of months.

When you could actually hate him because you didn't have to see him every single day.

"Once you had told me that your feelings for me weren't hateful when I was away." Ubbe's voice held a different tone. One you confessed coming out of his mouth few times.

Yes, you could recall that conversation. It was the one he told you that he was thinking about you at the battlefield, but it was too late to believe in his words, because you had already found out about the slave girl and her child. It was one of the worst days of your life – how somebody could forget the day their life took the downfall.

Although, that conversation was the last thing you wanted to remember after all this threats and the tears you shed. And yet it was still stuck in your mind like it was yesterday.

"I was trying to give in to the feelings I felt for you. The way I had you in my mind when I was at the battlefield. Don't ask me how those feelings were formed — I have no idea. I was thinking of you, knowing that you were praying for me not to return. Those feelings couldn't be replaced by any fight we had. At the end of the day, all that stayed in my mind was one of your rare smiles and the way you care for our son."

Ubbe had said.

"I have never prayed for you to die on the battlefield. I did quite the opposite in fact and it felt strange in my heart. I hated — I told my self to hate you — I was telling myself all the things I hated in you so I could hate you. I felt strange for you — my heart was beating in a strange way as much as I tried to avoid it, it exists, still."

That was your reply.

Your eyes were fixed on his gaze. Ubbe wasn't paying attention in anything else in the room but you. It felt like nothing else existed except the two of you. If it was under different circumstances, you would feel special and even loved – only if it was even possible to acknowledge how it felt to be loved by someone.

His tone was a soft and kind of regretful one. But it had never lasted long. This time time it wasn't due to him mood swings but due to his brother storming in the room, out of breath. Hvitserk cut him off when it was obvious that he was about to say something – or more accurately – confess something.

When you saw the man standing next to the door, you let a long breath – one you weren't aware that you were holding all this time – to leave.

"Margrethe is in labour!" Hvitserk exclaimed and everything changed inside you. It felt like the reality was coming back and your delightful dream was over. The object of your misery was back there – visible –standing in your way.

Your husband's eyes met yours. Regret – they yelled. But you couldn't understand which was the thing he had regretted for.

For cheating?

For impregnating her?

For marrying her?

For treating you like garbage?

For forcing you to stay in his side?

For the misery he put you into?

Too many reasons and they weren't all of them. There must have been something you couldn't recall. And yet, you didn't care. You couldn't even feel pity for your wasted life anymore. In fact, you couldn't anything – you were empty.

"She's asking for you brother." Hvitserk spoke again this time softer. His eyes were moving from Ubbe to you and the opposite, because no one of you had said a word.

"Yes." Was the only thing Ubbe managed to say and dragged his brother outside of the room. "You should be there too. Make yourself proper and come." Your husband was back. That was the Ubbe you knew. Your tyrant.

You had no tears left to shed. You were just empty as you were putting on your dress.

You were empty when you walked through her chambers and had to confess her labour.

You were empty even when the child was out. Boy – the midwife had announced happily. And she brought it in your hands and you weren't empty anymore. He was crying his guts out – like your own. His brown eyes were big and pure and you lost yourself inside them so mush that you almost didn't noticed. Although when you actually show them, they didn't mean anything – a child was brought in the world and it was the biggest blessing Frigg could give to a woman.

"Give him to me!" Margrethe's voice was the one who heard through the silent room, but you didn't move to place her son on her lap.

"The prince should hold him, my lady." The midwife reasoned her, but she didn't stop yelling for her son.

Even if she wanted, she couldn't hide away the child from Ubbe. Sooner or later, he would see him. You couldn't interfere or even felt pity. Nobody pitied you when you cried. Nobody cared for you feelings.

You placed the boy on her lap. Without sparing a look at her – the young man was all you cared about. Which could possibly be his fate. Why did it have to be this difficult for a baby just born. Why should a child carry its parent's burdens.

Your footsteps were vast as you were exiting that suffocating room.

"Son." You muttered when you met the curious eyes of the people who were supposed to be your family. Your eyes dared to wander only on Ubbe's form. You were supposed to bring him his son on your hands and it would probably have happened this way is things had been different.

Ubbe frowned when he spotted your unclear expression. Even you weren't empty enough to be idle after this. You almost felt sympathy for him, forgetting about all the horrible things you had been through because of his cruelty.

If you were as cruel as Ubbe was on you, you would even say that all this was a payback for all his doing. But you didn't feel like it, not when in the middle of this situation stood a new-born boy. One that would probably be the object to everyone's ire.

Ubbe didn't wait for a second word or asked anything else, he just burst into the room without warning. You didn't dare to move or speak another word. After all, it wasn't about you anymore.

Tag list: @bruher, @utterlyhopeful-fics, @hypocritic-trash-baby, @fofisstilinski, @brianochka, @thelirofnorthlands, @malamistka, @gothicwidowsworld, @savagemickey03, @brianna-merlim, @shitsandgiggles1

[biggerbetterbat]

THE SECOND SON | masterlist

Ubbe Ragnarson x oc!reader

Summary: Ubbe, a fierce warrior with a heart of gold, and Valdis, a spirited woman with dreams of her own, find themselves thrust into an arranged marriage - dream of past that their fathers had.

General warnings: mentions of cheating, pregnancy, murder, fighting, violence, jealousy, strong language, smut, unprotected sex, death - overall typical viking’s things

In this story Ubbe was never married/in any relationship with Torvi (I do believe it’s a warning)

“They danced through the day

And into the night through the snow that swept through the hall

From winter to summer then winter again

'Til the walls did crumble and fall”

memory of him

one.

two.

three.

[children-of-epiales]

Ocs as characters

Tagged by @shegetsburned @unbindingkerberos & @poisonedtruth to do this quiz!

Lara Darling-Jóźwiak

Ariadne (Inception)

Abed Nadir (Community)

Peggy Olson (Mad Men)

Jane Eyre (Jane Eyre)

Sailor Mercury (Sailor Moon)

Jemma Simmons (Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.)

Jasmine (Aladdin)

Torvi (Vikings)

Viktor (Arcane)

Angela Montenegro (Bones)

Dana Polk (The Cabin in the Woods)

Lucius Fox (The Dark Night)

Martha Nielsen (Dark)

Dorothy Gale (Wizard of Oz)

Rogue (X-Men)

El Profesor (Money Heist)

Peeta Mellark (Hunger Games)

Ada Shelby (Peaky Blinders)

Bunny O’Malley

Nomi Marks (Sense8)

Arya Stark (Game of Thrones)

Abed Nadir (Community)

Elizabeth Bennett (Pride & Prejudice)

Edward Elric (Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood)

Daisy “Skye” Johnson (Agents of Shield)

Jasmine (Aladdin)

Lagertha (Vikings)

Ekko (Arcane)

Jack Hodgins (Bones)

Marty Mikalski (The Cabin in the Woods)

Bruce Wayne (The Dark Knight)

Martha Nielsen (Dark)

The Wicked Witch of the West (Wizard of Oz)

Jean Gray (X-Men)

El Profesor (Money Heist)

Katniss Everdeen (Hunger Games)

Thomas Shelby (Peaky Blinders)

Sage O’Malley

Glenn Rhee (The Walking Dead)

Terry Jeffords (Brooklyn Nine-Nine)

Atticus Finch (To Kill a Mockingbird)

Alphonse Elric (Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood)

Phil Coulson (Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D)

Doc (Snow White and The Seven Dwarves)

Lagertha (Vikings)

Caitlyn Kiramann (Arcane)

Angela Montenegro (Bones)

Holden McCrea (The Cabin in the Woods)

Andrea Sachs (The Devil Wears Prada)

Anna Bates (Downtown Abbey)

Istredd (The Witcher)

Professor X (X-Men)

Nairobi (Money Heist)

Peeta Mellark (Hunger Games)

Jane Bennett (Pride & Prejudice)

Columbus (Zombieland)

Reaper

Lisa Simpson (The Simpsons)

Peggy Olson (Mad Men)

Amy Farrah Fowler (The Big Bang Theory)

Mr. Darcy (Pride & Prejudice)

Sailor Mercury (Sailor Moon)

Jemma Simmons (Agents of Shield)

Felicity Smoak (Arrow)

Elsie Hughes (Westworld)

Caitlyn Kiramann (Arcane)

Temperance Brennan (Bones)

Dana Polk (The Cabin in the Woods)

Soichiro Yagami (Death Note)

Charlotte Doppler (Dark)

Tissaia (The Witcher)

Dana Scully (The X-Files)

Ms. Sharon Norbury (Mean Girls)

Dr. Alana Bloom (Hannibal)

Mr. Darcy (Pride & Prejudice)

Nemesis

Carol Peletier (The Walking Dead)

Red Reznikov (Orange is the New Black)

Jane Eyre (Jane Eyre)

Scar (Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood)

Melinda May (Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D)

Cogsworth (Beauty & the Beast)

Geralt of Rivia (The Witcher)

Zuko (Avatar: The Last Airbender)

Kimiko Miyashiro (The Boys)

Sara Sidle (CSI: Crime Scene Investigation)

James Gordon (The Dark Knight)

Miranda Priestly (The Devil Wears Prada)

The Tin Man (Wizard of Oz)

Storm (X-Men)

Imperator Furiosa (Mad Max: Fury Road)

Jack Crawford (Hannibal)

Kim Ki-Taek (Parasite)

Soleil

Francis Mulcahy (M*A*S*H)

Anna Bates (Downtown Abbey)

Marmee March (Little Women)

Mumen Rider (One Punch Man)

John Diggle (Arrow)

Teddy Flood (Westworld)

Ubbe Ragnarsson (Vikings)

Cecil B. Heimerdinger (Arcane)

Seeley Booth (Bones)

Al Robbins (CSI: Crime Scene Investigation)

James Gordon (The Dark Knight)

Lucius Fox (Gotham)

The Tin Man (Wizard of Oz)

Monica Dutton (Yellowstone)

Helsinki (Money Heist)

Beverly Katz (Hannibal)

Charlie Strong (Peaky Blinders)

[golddaggers]

little taste of heaven

pairings: ubbe/torvi, ubbe/you, torvi/you

warnings: nsfw! contains fingering, sex, oral sex, cursing.

a/n: so this an indulging one for me and @stylinsonliving, we are constantly daydreaming about being married to both ubbe and torvi. loosely inspired in the MAGNIFICENT feverish love by the best out there @ritual-unions-gotme, i hope you don't mind, but it sparked my creativity! (the sacred romantic moments request is on the works!

word count: 4,2k+

“She is perfect, is she not?” Torvi’s velvet voice fills the room while her elegant fingers touch the intricate braids embellishing your hair.

King Ubbe stood before you, his gorgeous face disturbed in a serious frown. He’s torn between looking down at you, sitting in your tattered dress on his bed, and his wife, who’s knelt beside you, still touching you like she hasn’t asked you to bed her husband.

The entire situation is odd. You couldn’t quite grasp it was indeed happening, and it was not a figment of a fever dream from an affliction that had stricken you.

Torvi had spent the last couple of weeks watching you. Her pale blue eyes followed you around as you cleaned the tables, swept the halls, and filled up her family’s cups. At first, you thought she was all but making sure you were doing a proper job, then you noticed you were alone under her scrutiny. No other servants' jobs were dissected by their queen. Dread befell you. You were worried you’d be dismissed, sold to another master. So when she made her proposition, astonishment washed over you.

No one was supposed to know Torvi could no longer bear children, nor did she want to. Her king, however, wanted more. Needed more. She confided in you as she broke her fast, between a sip of her summer wine and a spread of honey over a chunk of steaming black bread. No one else had been there with you two. Ubbe had left long before the sun peeked through the white thick curtain of clouds that were ever hovering over Kattegat. The thralls had busied themselves cleaning other chambers while their mistress ate. The cook had gone out to find fresh parsley for lunch. Only you had been left behind, sweeping the dining room, keeping her company. The tales Torvi spoke about seemed far-fetched, you couldn’t believe she meant it until now.

Until he was here.

Parents teach their little daughters not to covet a man’s attention unless he willingly gives it to them. Ubbe never entertained you in any slightest way, however much you wanted him to. You’d been there when he married Margrethe, a secondary character fading in the background now. Then again when the gods blessed his union with Torvi, and when their little son was born. You witnessed it all. The iridescent blue of his scorching glance never found you interesting. Not that he should, either way. You were not extraordinary. Just a normal girl, whose life lacked any sort of wildness.

You didn’t feel so regular at this moment. Not with the ghosting of her lips across your temple, then down to your cheek, meeting the corner of your mouth in all the gentleness existing in the world. It was the first time you kissed a woman. Torvi’s lips were smooth and warm, pushed against yours.

“Do you find it wise?” His voice sounded hesitant, but not displeased. “She does look rather perfect.”

“Take her as your second wife,” She says. She’s so close you can feel her mouth moving to talk. “I want you to. You should have the children you want, even if I can’t give them to you.”

“And does she want to?”

Torvi had settled on your lap in the meanwhile, each of her legs hugging tight the width of your hips. She winked at you as an old-time friend would. Like you shared an unspoken secret. You relish the last brushing of her kiss on the tip of your nose and watch, bewildered, as she rises to a stand. Next to her husband, nothing but a petite thing. They looked so perfect together. Their eyes spoke in silence, the sort of intimacy you never had with anyone. One you longed to have, someday.

“Ask her,” Head tilted to the side, she smiled up at him. “She is a feisty little wolf, this one. That’s why I thought she’d be perfect to bear our children.”

“Do you, pup?” Ubbe kneels before you, both hands, rough and enticing all together, hold the round of your cheeks. He makes you look at him. “Is being my wife something you would want?”

It knocks the breath out of your lungs, having him so close to you. You can see the soft creases on his forehead, the tiny scars that can only bring out the natural beauty of him, and you get an up-close look at those eyes. From a distance, they can do only so much damage, but at this short length, they can wreck a ship. Untamed blue that drowns whoever dares to step closer. A shade of blue that belongs to a wild sea. It belongs to Njörthr himself. You swallow, your shallow breaths sputtering out in utter embarrassment, and nod. Because yes, how could it not be something you would want?

The room is shrouded with an unbeknown emotion. Your heart lurches against your ribs, it thumps and thumps and thumps. You feel it in your ears, in your clammy hands. If Ubbe can tell how nervous you are, he doesn’t show, instead, he smiles, his thumb tracing a line along with the apple of your cheek. For the second time that night, you are kissed. Unlike Torvi’s, his lips are thinner, less soft, more urgent. Though, regardless of their differences, both leave an uncomfortable pulse between your legs.

“Stand up,” His whisper makes a strange noise seep from you, but you comply.

He’s so tall. So big. The breadth of his shoulders, concealed beneath a leathered armour that glimmers under the dim light from two melting candles, is far wider than an ordinary man’s. His arms, when he spins you, by the Gods, they are so firm, so strong. You were sure you would turn into a puddle. He straightens your back, so you are forced to look at the comforting face of your mistress. It did nothing to help you, if anything, it worsened the warm pump of your blood, a wet mess gathering at the apex of your thighs.

You feel Ubbe unclasp the leather strip fastened around your waist, then proceed to undo each of the delicate buttons that kept the modest woollen blue dress in place. Torvi comes close to hold your hands, hers much warmer than yours had ever been, and softer, too. She drops them to hold your face, her lips a feverish pressure on your own. Another noise slips from you, muffled by the kiss.

She helps the sleeves out of your arms as soon as nothing holds the gown in place, the fabric sliding to the ground. The white slip you wore beneath was simple. It had been sewed by your late mother. She was quite good with needling, a trait that had died with her.

They stop to look at you, albeit close enough you can feel their warmth. You’re caged between them. You didn’t know what you had done to be in this place, but you thanked the skies above.

“Her hips are perfect,” Torvi mumbles, squeezing the supple flesh of your round hips. Pulling you in such a way your back was pressed to her chest. It felt like she was presenting you to him. “Perfect to bear children.”

“May I take this off?” He asks you, never minding his wife’s comment, though the flare in his nostrils let you know it had affected him. “Are you comfortable with all this?”

Another miserable nod is all you have to give him, Torvi’s fingers still on you, a gentle rub on the sides of your thighs.

“She’s too quiet,” Ubbe grumbles a curse. “Are you shy, pup? Is that it?”

“You’re too much, Ubbe,” Torvi complains. “I told her that if at any moment she wishes to leave, she can. She should. She’s here because she wants to.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes,” Your voice is a little sound lost in the air. “I want to, master.”

His breath comes out in a scoff, “You should address me as husband, then, if you wish to be my wife. No wife of mine calls me otherwise.”

“As you wish.”

A fading smirk dons his face, it turns so quickly back into seriousness a wave of childish want to see it again topples down on you. He begins to undo the single knot at the jewel neckline of your smock, Torvi’s hand helping it off. You have no secrets left covered.

The swell of your breasts pulls his eyes as a strong wave brings foam to the coastline. Ubbe palms them. He twists your nipples until they are pebbled. Each strike sends a pang of pleasure throughout your body. It’s only when your mistress touches your sopping cunt, however, that you allow yourself to gasp. The tips of her fingers circle you, one teasing finger around the heat of your entrance. They both abuse your body in sinful, tantalising ways.

He bends to you, his warm mouth wrapping around one pebbled peak. His tongue swirls then suck. You arch your chest in his direction, unable to control yourself. A pretentious grin is smeared on his face when he spreads his large hands on the dip of your waist. The taunting index finger Torvi has playing with you slips inside, which makes an unexpected yelp leave you. There's so much happening at the same time, your mind whirls, dizzy with the growing pleasure at the bottom of your tummy.

Her thumb presses down on your clit, her teeth nipping at the shell of your ear. She works you at her pace, slowly but surely. Just the one finger going in then out. You can hear how wet you’ve grown, as sloshing noises echo each time she moves. Ubbe bites the tender skin of your neck, stealing your attention to him. He reaps the most indecent sounds at each small assault. You’re too sensitive.

Pleasure pours all over you like sticky honey, and you’re unsure if it was brought by the constant rasp of Ubbe’s beard, and his bewitching mouth, or the words that began dripping out of Torvi’s lips while her hand quickened, a welcoming burn within you when another of her thin fingers joined. Your body shook, giving in to the feeling, letting it break you. It’s so good.

Had they not been holding you, you’d have fallen. He scoops you into his arms, naked and limp, to place you in their bed. The soft mattress hugs your back when you’re lying down there. In front of you, Torvi is undressing. She’s wearing the most gorgeous silk dress you’ve seen. It’s screaming red. It flatters her fair complexion, but, if you must have an opinion, she looks a lot better without it. Ubbe takes the same care he did when he helps her out of her clothing, he kisses her neck all the way up to her cheek. You stay still, observing.

She eases him out of his heavy clothes, unbinding the brown leather straps of his vest. The dark-green tunic underneath follows suit, his chest exposed for you. A mess of dark blond hair on his chest tugs your attention, the expanse of it makes you feel so small. Torvi steps away so he can kick off the sturdy leather boots, and his breeches. Both man and woman are a sight for sore eyes. They kiss in an urgent fit, a wet tangle of tongues that makes you clasp your legs together.

Unlike the soothing touches he gave you, Ubbe squeezes her breasts hard, enough to leave a ruddy streak behind. He lifts her, too, tossing her on the bed, careless, her body bounces as she laughs next to you.

“Say, sweets,” Her voice rings as she looks in your direction, him with her foot on his hands, his mouth slithering its way up to her knee. “Have you ever been with a man?”

“Once,” You confess, ashamed of your inexperience. “A long while ago.”

“She’s going to be so tight for you, darling,” Torvi giggles. “Think you can take him?”

“If that is what he wants.”

“Such a good woman for your husband,” You’re pulled down for a heated smack of lips. “Will you be good for me, too?”

You nod, in a near delirium state. He’s sneaked between your legs, prying you open to him. The glisten of gathered slick makes his eyes glisten in a crushing lust. Ubbe bullies your snug entrance with just the tip of his index and middle fingers, his are so much thicker than Torvi’s. You wince, a pained whine leaving your quivering lips.

“Does it hurt, pup?” Concern swims in his light tone.

“A little,” He stopped, his eyebrows knitted together in a preoccupied grimace. “I can take it. I want you to take me.”

“She is feisty,” Ubbe grins up to his wife. “Then I shall take you, pup.”

His fingers slid deeper into you. The stretch is new, it burns, but it’s appeased by the gentle touch of the pad of his thumb on your clit. Torvi palms your chest, your nipples hard and sensitive. You were in paradise. This had to be what paradise was like, unwinding and everlasting satisfaction.

She leans in to bring one hard peak into her mouth, her round breasts standing too close for you to deny yourself a taste. Your eyes are keen to notice the flutter on her belly when you do, your tongue sliding tentatively around one pink nipple. She smiles, then clamps her teeth around you, drawing a broken sound from you, muffled on her skin.

A small whimper echoes when Ubbe pulls his fingers out. Torvi kisses your parted lips one last time before moving to where he stood, at the foot of the bed. She nudges you to move back, the crown of your head pressed up against the headboard. She lies on her stomach, each hand settling at the base of your thighs. It flames the growing pain from being denied a peak seconds before, to watch this beautiful woman with her head between your legs. The fair strands of her hair tickle when it touches your skin. You’re surrendered.

The first contact of her warm mouth on the tender flesh of your inner thigh sends you into overdrive. You tip your head back, eyes sealed shut. Ubbe is there, you can feel his heat. His hands rub your arms for a second, only to pull them up, holding you as his wife has her first taste of your cunt. She laps with confidence only a woman could have. Confidence that she would please. That she can take one more from you before her husband has the chance.

“Gods,” You say, gripping Ubbe’s arms. “I-I…”

“So sweet, look, she doesn’t curse,” His deep voice mumbles out, inclining forwards to press his lips to your cheek. “It’s going to be fun fucking you until you do.”

Her spit dribbles down when she takes a breath, hot and dirty. Torvi slides a finger into you again, pretty mouth nursing the painful pulse at the crest of your sex. The high feels like it’s a breath away. He whispers sweet encouragement words, his grasp of you the only anchor you possess to the palpable world while hers only sent you further down the chasm.

She eats and eats. It’s a feast that leaves your brain in a muddled daze, your hips rolling against her face as if you have no control over what your body does. You look up to find his eyes on you, nothing but want in the fine tint of blue left. Perhaps that’s what it took for you to break down. Whatever it was, it hit you much stronger than the first one, disjointed words blubbering out from you. You fell limp on the bed, heavy and spent. But she didn’t stop until you were begging her to.

They let you take a rest. You hear him curse, you hear the slaps, the dirty words that would make you mortified, though now they bring a wave of heat down on you. Head tilted back, your tired eyes almost fail to comprehend how tight he's holding her, how rough he's kissing her lips, with a hunger comparable to a wild animal. Yes. Ubbe ravished her like a wolf would its prey. His fingers rub her pussy, easing his fingers much more easily than it eased on you, her having much more experience than you did. Shame stung your cheeks, you were so innocent.

“Look at her, dove, staring at us,” He had one arm looped around her arching back. “You want to know how good Torvi tastes, pup? I can tell you it’s the best thing you’ll ever have.”

“She tastes good, too,” Torvi moans, his pace growing alongside her sweet noises. “So fucking good. Ah, fuck, Ubbe-”

“See, pup, you have to curse, too,” Ubbe quickens, his wife clinging to him for dear life. “Like she does. To let me know I’m making her feel good.”

You prop yourself up, sitting back on your knees on one corner of the bed. No words leave your lips, but your hand finds its way between your legs, trying to alleviate the uncomfortable throb that grows anew there. Ubbe smirks, so full of himself, that he has two beautiful women on his bed, that he has them both worked up. He beckons you to come closer, which you do, his warmth makes you sigh.

“Touch her,” His voice dips to silky sweetness. You gaze at him, unsure, pitiful even. “I will show you how.”

His hand must feel much better on her than yours, being so big and dexterous while yours was smaller and clumsy. You breathe out, hash and desperate, when he guides you to the hot, drenching mess of Torvi. Her blissful features let you know she enjoys what you’re doing, though it’s more her husband’s doing than your own. A tiny smile stretches your lips up, your thumb giving her clit o-shaped strokes. Ubbe mumbles that you’re doing so good for them, so, so good. Confidence bathes you at that moment. You can understand how he walks around so smug like the world belongs to him. Treasuring this woman did that to you.

Once you get the hang of it, he lets you do you, his touch lingering on the curve of your waist. One finger sneaked up her tight entrance, daring to pump in then out, still working her bundle of nerves, appreciating each bubbly noise she let out. He teases you, biting down on your neck, sucking marks to the fragile skin. Slick pools at the tight crevice between your legs, you’re so aroused. You didn’t know your body could do so much.

She falls apart on your hand, you edge it out of her, and you whine in tandem with her, so delighted to just watch her. To observe as pleasure wrings her up then release, her thighs clamping your hand. Ubbe paints a wet kiss just below your ear, his teeth grazing as it goes down again, the rough of his palms on your breasts, he gives them absent-minded squeezes. The pressure builds on your lower abdomen from it all, ebbs and flows as the tide does in the early morning.

Torvi kisses you, sweet and slow. Your finger is still inside her, the spasms of her peak chewing it up. It’s hot and wet, it squelches when you pull it out from her. He moves away from you as she begins to push you down, it’s an unhurried, deliberate motion. You can tell she is just trying to make you more comfortable, even tucking a pillow below your hips to raise them.

Rain begins to spatter against the closed windows, or perhaps you’d been so inattentive, you didn’t notice the change in the weather. The dying fire of the fireplace crept, its fainting sounds just now discernible. The brief moment of silence let you soak up as much of this place as you could. If this falls through, you want to remember each tiny detail of this day.

“Be gentle with her,” Torvi warns. She’s sat back, your head on the soft plush of her thigh. “Are you okay?”

“I am,” You smile up at her, then nuzzle on her, a careless display of affection you didn’t know where it came from. “So very much okay.”

His warmth spreads over you when he lies on top of you. It’s so intense, the weight of him pinning you down, your legs spread apart to welcome him between them. You could feel every ridge of him, every single detail. This newfound closeness is heady, it confuses your thoughts, all the coherence fleeing as losing troops during a battle. It’s there, the steady pulse of his heart, while he whispers that you can trust him. That you can give yourself to him, that it is okay to do so.

The fat head of his cock teases your pussy, sliding up and down for a beat or two. It pushes a noise out of you, in pure distress, you’re so desperate to have him. To feel him inside, the stretch that would be likely to leave you with a limp. You dreamed about this. You longed to be craved in a way that wobbles your legs. Right now, with the enticing words he mumbled out of honeyed lust, you felt wanted. When Torvi touched you, it felt like a drug, and this was the final nail that locked you in. You were stuck with them now.

Ubbe eased himself in, breaching you. In his eyes, there’s nothing but true regard, even in silence, you can feel he wants this to be good for you too. A soft smile paints across your face, your short nails digging to the firm flesh of his shoulders. A slight trace of pain washes over you, one you do your best to conceal, though useless since he catches it, slowing things down even more. His low grunts do not help, the sounds make you clench, in need.

Torvi strokes your hair. You tip your head back to look up at her. She’s so beautiful. You could get used to being pampered by her, not just while her husband fucks you, but all the time. It had never crossed your mind that you could feel this much at once. The roll of his hips on yours, her delicate hands on you. It brought the alluring pressure at the bottom of your tummy right back, so quick it felt impossible.

He hides his face on the crook of your neck, staining the unblemished skin. The sounds being knocked out of you grew and grew. Being so vocal was atypical, when you were bedded, you had been quiet, when you touched yourself, in the silent, cold nights, hidden beneath thick furs, you were quieter. Each snap, however, had them coming. His cock was so deep in you, the bottoming out only made him go further when sliding back in, as if he was in want to claim each inch within you, to mark as his all tiny crevices you had.

You search for the hot press of his lips on yours, a kiss that’s not at all about love, it’s feral, wild. Your tongues roll together, the sounds muffled by the other’s mouth. The hairs on his chest scrape yours, you can’t help but grip tighter onto him. Each nerve in your body seems to be attuned to the littlest movement he does, all of them capturing how close you are to breaking.

When it comes, it’s hard. It topples you down to a bone-crushing fall that rattles you. A pleasure that takes and takes. A tired, spent moan bubbles on your throat. You’re wrapped on him, you realise, taking all the hard ruts he’s still giving. It helps you through the rush you’re feeling, a lingering aftertaste that you are not willing to let go of just yet. Somewhere beneath your ribs, you feel the rapid pulses of your heart.

Had you not been so wrung out already, you mulled over the thought that it’d be possible he’d rob another one from you just by the way he looks when he falls apart. The animalist growls. It sounds like he'd slash and maul and break anyone who would dare to take you from him right now. With his bare hands. Scorching, thick ropes of cum root deep into your cunt, Ubbe spends himself until he can’t anymore.

Instead of moving away, he settles his head on your chest, one arm holding his weight up so he doesn’t crush you. For the longest time, the three of you remain in silence. Torvi moves to lie down beside you, holding your tired hand on hers. You sigh, life starts to down on you, the bruises you’d be sporting for weeks after. His seed, if it stuck, would be with you, too. If it didn’t, you would have fun trying all over again.

At last, when the cold starts to be uncomfortable, Ubbe rolls to the other side, so you’re between him and his wife. You try to will yourself to stay awake, though it’s to no avail. Something tells you, you would have a long night of sleep, undisturbed if you were blessed.

“Can we keep her, then?” The sweet voice you knew belonged to the blonde woman to your left.

“Oh, you can be assured of that, my dove,” Ubbe kisses your cheek, nosing your temple. “This pup here is ours to keep.”

[elvinasstuff]

[sigridsdottir]

vikings + ubbe & torvi (2/?)

none of these pics are mine. if u want credit for any edits, please let me know! :)

[xxskycrystalxx]

#silent communication goals 

[queenstormbornn]

VIKINGS MEME

• [3/10] RELATIONSHIPS -> Ubbe & Torvi

“If we have to fight our way out of here, then we will do it together and if the odds are against us, it will make me happy to die with you.”

gifs by @vikingshistory @honestsycrets @hvitserkk & pinterest (if they’re yours please tag me)

[artemiseamoon]

Road full of promises

Hvitserk x Mystic! F reader

Words: 2,071 | Credit to GIF owners (one is mine) 

I lied, this is not short, it's long :) 

AN: Post show events AU where Hvitserk goes off to travel, see the world, and find himself. He meets you along the way. 

Part of Sarah’s follower celebration @solinarimoon

Prompt: “There's a darkness upon you that's flooded in light. And in the fine print They tell you what's wrong and what's right” -  Head Full of Doubt/Road Full of Promise - The Avett Brothers ( I only used one lyric) 

Warnings: Angst party! Losing loved ones, dealing with Ivars death and his own past regrets, A battle scene via flashback. 

This wasn’t the first time you found him like this. Sitting by the lake and gazing at the water, a faraway look in those green eyes.

Hvitserk was a mystery to you for a while. Getting close to him took patience. You soon learned of his past and the heavy burdens he carried.

The man you loved was lost, even as he traveled the world. He was trying to make sense of things, to find meaning, to find forgiveness in himself for a life wasted.

He often spoke of his brothers, his mother Auslag, and his father Ragnar Lothbrok. Hvitserk was in the habit of comparing himself to all that, a habit that left him feeling like a failure. His addiction, losing Thora, holding his brother Ivar as he died; Hvitserk told you about all of it.

Driven by these things, he set out on an adventure, a journey to find purpose, and some peace. You met on the New Moon when the Viking traveled through your town. You were gathering herbs in the woods when your paths crossed.

Long before meeting him, you planned to leave for good on the next Full Moon. You were raised by a great warrior, you shared the same set of skills as your brothers. You knew how to fight, how to win, how to survive. Yet, you were more drawn to the life led by your grandmother.

Herbalist, mystic, healer, wise woman. You were always more like her than your parents. So it was no surprise when you made the decision to dedicate your energy to that life. To do it away from the place you called home. You longed to step out of the shadow of your father's name and the obligations that came with it.

Over the next 28 days, the Vikings found little ways to pass by your stand where you sold herbs and other enchanted items. He even purchased a few things from you, all the while remaining quiet, distant.

A week before your departure day, that finally changed. The Viking visited toward closing time and helped you back up. On the walk back to your home, he asked you about your life and told you his mother was involved with similar things. Seeing your stand and the smell of it reminded him of her.

This was the start of what blossomed into a quick friendship and then a romance. Though you both held romantic longings since the beginning, it didn't start right away.

You soon learned Hvitserk was afraid to let himself love because he'd lost or pushed away anyone who loved him. Hvitserk was fearful the same would happen with you, and he didn’t want to risk it.

When you revealed your plan to leave, Hvitserk asked to accompany you. It sealed the fate of your lives together. The Viking decided to take a leap, finding you at a time he felt so lost, so alone must have meant something. Even with his fear, he wasn't going to let you slip away.

Wishing to leave him undisturbed, you stand still and quiet as you observe him and think about all the moments that led to this one. When his eyes land on you, you offer a small smile and lower your basket of herbs and mushrooms to the ground.

A tender warmth washes over him as he gazes at you, “it's like the first time, seeing you like this,”

“Always with a basket in my arms, “ you smile and walk over to him. Joining Hvitserk, you sit close and relax into him as his arm comes around your shoulders, “always with soil in my nails.” You display your hands, still smiling.

Hvitserk hums and leans forward, placing a kiss on both hands, “I wouldn’t want you any other way.”

You rest your head against him with a relaxed sigh. As the sun sets, the sky transforms into a beautiful painting of violet, orange, and yellow hues. Hvitserk gently caresses your arm.

“Who captured your thoughts this time?” you ask softly.

Hvitserk is quiet for a moment. His eyes float back to the water.

“The last battle in Wessex.”

You can hear it in his voice, he drifts back into the land of nostalgia. The battle replays in his mind. Hvitserk can feel it in every cell in his body like he was still there.

The chaotic yet thrilling storm of battle, the sounds of metal, cries, and yells, blood; the catharsis of being on the battlefield like a true Viking with his brother, his old enemy, at his side.

Just as quickly, his memory transitions from the battle to Ivar's eyes as he holds him. To hear he or all people was afraid, Ivar, who was never afraid of anything. He wondered, was Ivar always afraid? Was that why he relied so heavily on his malice? To hide that internal fear and keep it secret?

Then he thinks of Ubbe, his old best friend, his favorite brother. Hvitserk never imagined they would be so distant, that they would be strangers to each other. Of all the heartbreaks he’s had in his life, this was one of the heaviest; it haunted him.

As Hvitserk deepens his trance of thought, you find yourself wandering off too. You think about a conversation you had early on as you rode back into town after showing him one of your favorite spots in the woods.

The night was quiet aside from the horse's steps on the ground and a gentle wind in the trees. You look over at him and see that look again. It's the kind of look that makes you wonder what was going on in his mind, what he was thinking.

Hvitserk feels your eyes burning into him, continuing to look ahead, he speaks. “Are you trying to figure me out?” A small grin follows his question.

You smile, turning your head to view him,  “There’s a darkness upon you that’s flooded in light.”

With a curious brow, he looks at you while keeping a steady pace on the horse. You get lost in his eyes again, something that happens to you often. You watch as your words settle into Hvitserk and stir up feelings and thoughts he likely won't express aloud.

Hvitserk offers a smile, a sweet innocent one and you can't help but wonder what he was like as a kid. You imagine a little Hvitserk running around and full of joy.

“It’s late, let’s get back.” His voice pulls you back to the present. You continue the rest of the way in silence.

Clearing his throat, Hvitserk shifts his focus to you, his eyes finding your waiting and compassionate gaze.

“The Runes, and the dream you had, I think I know what it means now.”

You shift your position to get a fuller view of his face. You had your suspicions about what those dreams meant, but you didn't want to impose your ideas on him. You trusted he would come to the answer himself. It seems he has.

You take one of his hands in yours and hold it.

“My home is you,” the emotion in Hvitserks eyes almost moves you to tears, “we’ve seen so much, and we are travelers. Though, I think I need to find Ubbe.”

You don’t realize you’ve been holding your breath until the words leave his lips. You exhale and smile tenderly, “and I will help you.”

Using your gifts to help Hvitserk find his brother wasn't even a question. You would do anything you could to help him. You knew from your Runes that despite his anger, his pain, Ubbe missed Hvitserk too and the longing for each other was mutual. You knew, one big missing piece for Hvitserk was Ubbe.

…

It took time, but every step was worth it. Every night you barely had enough food, every storm you weathered, every night you were unsure you would find this place. Every single step of it paid off as you stepped foot on the abundant land.

It was easy to feel overstimulated. Birds you've never seen before, plant life, animals. Even in your exhausted and hungry state, you feel pure love and appreciation for seeing this with your own eyes. It was like nothing you have ever imagined.

Your joy is only increased each time you look at Hvitserk. His eyes are wide with wonder as you push your bodies and hike into the woods. Though, behind his excitement, you can sense fear, worry.

You knew he was afraid Ubbe wouldn't be here, or worse, would reject him, turn him away. You did all you could to soothe Hvitserk, but in your own way, you shared his fears.

You wished for a happy outcome and wanted more than anything for the brothers to reconcile.

…

Stopping near a stream, you both sit and scoop water into your mouths. After drinking as much as you can without getting sick, Hvitserk flicks water at your face.

A wide playful grin lights up his tired expression. You retaliate, and a water fight soon follows. Your moment of joy is short-lived when an alarm goes off in your gut. Before you can look back, you see Hvitserks pale face ashen even more as his jaw drops.

Hvitserk stands slowly and faces the group of people surrounding you. Doing the same, you stay close to him and see a vulnerable recognition in his eyes.

Following Hvitserk's gaze, you focus on the man standing slightly ahead of the group. The thing that stands out about him the most is his eyes, the most intense blue eyes you have ever seen. At first glance, they seem cold, but it doesn't take long to feel the storm behind them.

This is him. This is Ubbe.

His stance is firm, confident, and if need be, ready to strike. Your gaze bounces from Hviterk to his brother. You notice a slight slouch in Hvitserks shoulders. He drops his gaze under the intense stare of Ubbe.

Remaining silent, Ubbe raises his chin, his eyes briefly land on you before returning to his brother. You swallow and reach out until you feel Hvitserks hand and lace your fingers in his. Hvitserk holds your hand tight, you move closer.

A look of disgust fills Ubbes expression as he turns his back to you both and heads to the woods.

Hvitserk takes a step forward, his voice cracking as he speaks, “ I’m sorry.”

Ubbe stops walking, his back still toward you. Your eyes move to the blonde woman with large eyes as she steps away from the group and joins Ubbe. It seems she's trying to calm him or talk to him. She places a hand softly on his forearm as she whispers.

You see compassion in her eyes, a warmth. They are too far away, you can't hear their words. But it seems her plea has little impact, at least at that moment. She releases her hold on him, Ubbe walks away.

Three months later

It was a perfect day in paradise. The sun felt good on your skin, and a cooling breeze danced in the air. You grab two ends of the now-finished blanket as Torvi grabs the other two ends. Continuing your conversation, you lay it out on the ground to give it a good look over.

Laughter erupts from the other side of the room. You both look ahead to see Ubbe and Hvitserk sharing a moment. You can’t help but smile. That darkness that followed Hvitserk seemed lifted by this place, by forgiveness from his brother Ubbe.

It wasn’t easy to get, but Hvitserk stayed dedicated. You knew the fact that Ubbe didn’t turn you away or kill his brother meant the part of him wanting his brother back was stronger than the part who wanted to keep him out. When both brothers finally had it out and mended their wounds, it made every painful step along the way worth it.

Now, months later, it was like you were always meant to be here, and the wanderlust in both of you calms as you settle into your new home.

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[disasterofastory]

Married to Vikings Part 4 (Ubbe x Reader x Torvi)

Married to Vikings

Part 4

Ubbe x Reader x Torvi

Warnings: fight and blood and Reader x Torvi smut

Your first meeting with Hali, Asa, and Ragnar goes better than you thought. They are excited to be home with their parents, and they bombard you with questions about your past life and your skills. They ask you so many questions sometimes you almost feel dizzy, trying to answer everything.

Hali boasts about his wooden-sword fights with his uncle Hvitserk, and Asa talks about the animals she saw today, while little Ragnar sits on your lap, babbling away in sync with his siblings. His small fits squeeze your fingers and pull on your hair until he falls asleep, leaning on your shoulder.

They are energetic and chatty, and you enjoy their company no matter how tiring it is to focus on them and their never-ending stories. As the night comes, you feel drained and tired but in a good way. They make the house more pleasant and homelike.

You were afraid they wouldn’t accept you because of your religion, but they didn’t even ask you about it. They questioned you about the land you came from and about your strange accent while you were trying to talk to them in their language, but otherwise, they didn't care about your God. And probably they already know everything they can from their parents.

As the sun disappeared from the sky, you needed Ubbe and Torvi to help you put the kids in the bed to sleep. They wanted to spend more time with you until you promised them you would spend the next day with them. You felt warm and happy, seeing their welcoming behavior to you.

“They already love you,” Torvi says when all the three of you lay on your own bed, tired and sleepy.

“They are amazing,” you tell her.

It was interesting to see them around their children. You could see their love as they take care of them. You noticed very quickly that they don’t pamper and spoil their children. Those kids have to be fearless Vikings someday, and the world won’t treat them nice, so they have to be brave and ready.

“Where are you going tomorrow?” You ask Ubbe after a while, turning your head to see him. As you played with the kids today, you heard them talking about another village.

“I have to go with Bjorn to talk an Earl not far from Kattegat,” he explains. “I will be home in a few days, and you will be fine with Torvi and the kids.”

You nod, reaching for his hand while the blonde woman lays her head on his husband’s chest. You sleep much closer to the man than the beginning. There are mornings when you wake up to his arm circling your form, or you find yourself on his chest in the middle of the night. Ubbe’s warmth gives you safety and comfort at nights.

As the weeks went by since your arrival, you developed a routine on the farm. You wake up when Torvi starts to braid her hair, and you get ready to take care of the animals first thing in the morning. You have breakfast with Torvi when the kids are done, and you continue your tasks around the house or go with the Viking woman to the town. When the afternoon comes, you go home to make dinner with the help of the thralls. You became short of friends with the two young girls, who mostly take care of the children when their parents are too busy.

Two days after Ubbe’s departure, you stay home to patch up a few clothes, and you wanted some alone time with the kids. You enjoy their company and quirkiness. They teach you a lot about their language and faith. They tell you stories about the Gods and Ragnar. Hali talks about his grandfather as if he was one of the Gods.

“Y/N,” Asa mentions your name uncertainly as you sit at the table busying yourself with the clothes.

“Yes?” You look up at the little girl who stands at the door, glancing back at her shoulder repeatedly.

“Somebodies coming,” she says, and soon Hali appears behind his little sister.

You stand up to move closer to them, looking out at the two strangers getting closer and closer to the farm.

“You know them?” You ask them, hoping for a yes, but when they shake their head, your blood freezes in your veins. You can see the axe in their hands and swords hanging on their belt.

“Sura, Ines,” you call over the thralls. “You and Asa go to the village, Torvi is in the Great Hall,” you order the thralls, trying to keep your panic at bay. Sura hugs Ragnar’s little body tighter as Ines grabs Asa’s hand to pull her closer.

“I won’t leave you,” Hali says. Despite his serious expression, he still looks like a kid with challenging eyes and pouty lips.

“No,” you shake your head, motioning the girls to go, and soon they disappear at the back door. “I need you to run to your uncle Hvitserk.”

“Y/N,” he starts to argue, but you don’t let him.

“If you want to help me, run,” you tell him, and after a second, he just nods, running out of the door to his uncle.

The silence that surrounds you almost deafening. Your limbs feel heavy as you try to suppress your trembling. You can hear your blood flowing in your ear, and your heart beats faster and faster as you grab your axe, hiding it under the dresses on the table. You stare at the back door for few seconds, begging for Hvitserk to appear, but you know it’s not possible. Your attention turns to the two men who approach the house, smirking at you through the door.

“Can I help you?” You ask them. Your voice sounds stable despite the dread you feel inside.

“We come with peace.” One of them says, and all three of you know it’s a lie.

“The Prince is not here at the moment,” you tell them, hoping they get the hint about Ubbe. “I’m sure when he gets home, you can come back to talk to him.”

“Oh, but we didn't come here to talk to him,” The one with long red hair answers.

“We came for the Christian cunt.” The other answers and you need your every strength to stop your shaking. Your hand tightens on the axe under the clothes.

You practiced with Ubbe and Hali, but you are nowhere good enough to fight with two men. They probably can kill you within a minute, and you have a feeling you will be lucky if that’s what they plan for you.

“Get out,” you tell them. Your voice is much smaller than before, and they just laugh at your attempt to chase them away.

As one of them moves closer, you swing the axe out of the clothes, hitting his arm when he reaches out for you. The blade hits his arm, and a shout leaves his mouth. You jump back in fright, seeing what you did. You grab the handle again, trying to pull it out from his flesh.

And everything happens so quickly.

The axe leaves the Viking’s arm, but it slips out of your hand into the other’s head. All of you freezes from shock, looking at the man with the axe in his forehead. Blood starts to flow out of the wound before he collapses dead. You don’t have time to be surprised by your own actions because you don’t have a weapon anymore, and the red-haired one almost jumps of you, pushing you down on the floor.

A loud shriek leaves your mouth, trying to push him off yourself. Your muscles hurt from the force you fight back, and warm tears blur your sight. You feel his painful grip everywhere on your body, and soon your dress tears on your chest. Your screams die down because of your sobs and the world getting darker and darker around you until you hear a loud bang and the man falls off of you.

Your arms are still in the air, trying to shield yourself, but you don’t dare to move until you see Hvitserk above you. His blonde hair is messy, and he still pants from the run to your house.

“Are you okay?” He asks you, helping you up into a sitting position. He looks over at you, searching for injuries, but you just shake your head. You can't form words, whenever you attempt to talk, sobs break out of your throat.

“It’s okay,” he says. “You are okay.”

“Move over.” You hear Thora’s impatient voice.

Soon you find yourself in the woman’s comforting arms. She hugs you close, caressing your arm to calm you down.

“What happened with the other one?” Hvitserk asks, looking at the dead man with your axe in his head.

“The axe slipped out of my hand,” you answer between sobs, wiping the tears off from your eyes.

Ubbe’s brother looks at you, shocked. He would laugh at this if you wouldn’t be in such bad shape.

“Torvi is coming,” he says after a while, looking out of the door. “I will take care of them,” he continues looking down at the men on the floor.

After a few seconds, Torvi bursts into the house. Her eyes are wide, and her expression is panicked. She looks over the men till she finds you in Thora’s arms. She steps over them to get to you and take you over from Hvitserk’s wife.

“It’s okay,” she whispers.

As she hugs you close to herself, you start to calm down. She rocks you in her arms, whispering sweet nothing into your ear as you watch Hvitserk dragging the men out of your sight with the help of Thora.

“Where are the kids?” You ask Torvi when you two are left alone.

“They stay with Lagertha for the night,” she answers, helping you up from the floor. You hug yourself, grabbing your torn dress to hide your chest. “Come,” she says.

You go into the woods with clean clothes in your hands beside Torvi. The world glows in orange as the sun goes down above you. The air is cold, and you don’t spend much time in the water, but it’s just enough to clear your head and body. The fresh clothes feel warm and comforting on you as you get dressed. Both of you stay silent as you get home, and Torvi continues the cooking you started before the intruders.

“You were very brave today,” she says after a while, looking at you over the fire. “You saved my children.”

“Maybe they are not my children by blood, but they are my responsibility, and I love them,” you answer. You stopped crying hours before, but your voice is still quiet and hoarse.

“They love you too,” she says, smiling gently. “Asa was really worried about you.”

“I need to learn how to fight,” you tell her, looking into her pretty, green eyes. “I don’t want to be so vulnerable ever again.”

“When Ubbe hears what happened, you won’t have a choice,” she answers, sitting down next to you, giving you a plate with meat and potato.

After you eat you go to the bedroom. Without Ubbe, both of you lay in the middle of the bed. You just lay there for long minutes before you move to get closer to Torvi. Your rest your head on her chest while she hugs you closer to her body. The pelts warm you up, and your shaking stops after a while.

“I’m really proud of you,” she says, caressing your arm. “When I heard what happened…”

“I’m fine,” you tell her reassuringly, moving back on your pillow to look at her face.

The fire’s light illuminates her features.

Your heart jumps up into your throat when you notice her moving closer to you. You can feel her breath on your lips, and soon she kisses you. Her lips are warm and soft. She moves against you gently, but you don’t know what to do. You lay beside her, frozen with a rapidly beating heart.

“Just follow me,” she says when she breaks her movements to smile at your lack of experience.

She kisses you again, but this time you do as she told you. You move your lips against hers, enjoying her warmth, and your hand wanders into her hair while she caresses your side.

“I love you,” she says, supporting herself on her elbow.

She knows it for a while now, but after today she had to say it out loud. The way home from the Great Hall never seemed as long as today when she didn't even know you were alive. Her heart broke seeing you on the floor in Thora’s arms. You looked vulnerable and weak, while in reality, you never were stronger. You risked your own life to save her children. You were brave enough to face two Viking men alone while you couldn’t know the help would arrive in time.

“I love you too,” you answer her when you wake up from your initial shock. Your skin heats up saying these words to a woman.

Torvi smiles, leaning down again to kiss you more passionately. Her hands move up on your side, brushing your nipple with her thumb. You moan into her mouth at the feeling, keeping her close to you.

You feel clumsy and nervous under her. The Viking woman evokes feelings in you that you never felt before. Her touch burns your skin, and it goes through your whole body. You feel soaked between your legs, and no matter how much you move your thighs together, the frustration in you doesn’t lessen.

“I will show you something,” her voice is breathy.

Her hands move to your legs to spread them before her. The woman’s touch is much gentler than Ubbe’s on your wedding night. Your breath quickens from embarrassment and excitement at the same time. You feel flushed as Torvi stares down at you.

“What are you doing?” You choke out, trying to sit up, but she doesn’t let you.

Torvi smirks down at you, moving back on the bed till she disappears before you, and you can feel her breath between your legs.

“Wait,” you shriek, attempting to move away again, but she is faster.

Her tongue licks along your slit, and you can’t help but fall back onto the pillows, moaning. Her fingers sink into the flesh of your thighs, keeping you in place. Your back arches off the bed from the pleasure. The Viking’s face buried in your pussy, devouring you to her heart content while you writhe underneath her, gripping the pelts around you. Sweat flows down on your temple, and hoarse moans break the fireplace’s crackle. The knots in your stomach tightens with her every lick and suck until you burst.

You moan her name, cumming on her tongue.

“Was it good?” She asks you after a while, hovering above you with a satisfied smile.

You need long minutes to wake up from your daze, and the aftershock still runs through your body like small bolts of lightning.

“Good,” you pant, trying to find your voice.

Sin has never been so good.

_______

Tags: @ritual-unions-gotme @adrille88 @astridbaby @mystic-shadows42