Summary: Alfred has seen the way you've looked at the Son of Ragnar. So, he arranges for you to find out how the Heathens fuck their women.
Warnings: +18 content, smut, dark!alfred, dark!ubbe, cuckholding, somnophilia, unprotected sex, p in v, oral sex (f receiving), strong language, dubcon (?)
Word Count: 1,176
Requested by anonymous
Fuck Valentine’s Day Masterlist II Vikings Masterlist
Alfred leans against the wall, keeping his eyes on you to make sure you don't wake. If you do, it will ruin everything he planned. He's just glad the Viking agreed to all of this, not that he doubted he would turn it down.
He told the son of Ragnar not to knock on the door when he gets here, as to not wake you. The door opens, quietly, just as Alfred asked, and in walks Ubbe Ragnarsson.
Ubbe glances at the bed where you lay fast asleep as he closes the door behind him. Then, he looks over at your husband, the King, as he comes to stand beside him. "You are sure about this?"
"I would have had guards at the door waiting to kill you if I changed my mind," Alfred responds, turning his head to look at Ubbe, unfolding his arms from over his chest, and moving over to the door to lock it. He doesn't want anyone walking in on what's about to happen. He would lose his crown if that happens.
The Viking looks back at the bed, shifts on his feet before walking over to you. His eyes skim over your body, his tongue licking over his lip at the sight of you wearing a sheer nightgown because of the hot night. The only source of light in the room is the single candle lit in the window, casting a beautiful shadow over your face. It reminds Ubbe of his attraction towards you. It's what made agreeing to this easy. He just hopes this is not some kind of wicked test by Alfred.
Alfred settles in the chair in the corner of the room, watching the scene play out in front of him intently, resting his chin on the back of his fingers. He smiles to himself. You don't know what's about to happen to you in your sleeping state. It makes a dark jolt of excitement wash over his body.
Slowly, Ubbe Ragnarsson pulls the light blanket away from your body and off the bed, dropping it to the floor as he kneels on the bed. It makes it better that you're laying on your stomach, allowing Ubbe to run his eyes over the curves of your hips that lead into your legs.
He runs his fingers up your leg, hooking them under the hem of the nightgown, lifting it as he raises his hand up your leg. You let out a soft mewl, shifting onto your side before falling onto your back with a deep sigh. It gives Ubbe a chance to glance over more of your body, especially now that it's not covered with layers and layers of modest clothing.
The hem of your nightgown falls over your hips, allowing Ubbe to settle between your legs, pushing them apart as he runs his hands up your thighs.
Now, he doesn't care if you wake up or not.
He kisses up the inside of your thigh, his hands grabbing your hips gently as his face moves closer and closer to your core.
Alfred shifts in his seat as he watches the Viking's head disappear between your legs. He didn't think it would arouse something in him, but it does, making a strain grow in his pants.
Your eyes flutter open at the feeling of lips fluttering against the inside of your legs and a small moan leaves your lips when a tongue licks through your folds. Your mind goes to thinking that it's your husband between your legs, but when you feel the pricking of a beard against the skin of your thighs, you know right away that this is not your husband.
You don't have enough time to register this and you can't because of the pleasure filling you from the mouth on your pussy. Even if this is not your husband, this person does know what they're doing. Their tongue moves with precision, knowing where to lick and where to suck. They know who to give a woman pleasure with their tongue.
You arch your back off the bed, grinding down on the man's mouth as you let out another, louder moan.
The pleasure grows in your body, your stomach feeling like it's turning into knots as you throw your head back against the pillow. But something catches your eye, making you turn your head to the side where you see Alfred sitting in a chair in the corner of the room.
His dark eyes lock with yours as your climax hits you, shame filling you as you let out a loud moan while looking at your husband, the man who's not giving you this pleasure.
"What..." you whisper out, turning your head down to the man between your legs, your heart skipping a beat when you notice that it's Ubbe. You can't deny that you've struggled to take your eyes off of him when you first saw him, but you didn't think that Alfred suspected anything.
The Viking has a smug grin on his face after he wipes his hand over his mouth. He crawls up your body, caging you in to prevent you from trying to escape. You place your hands on his chest, your eyes growing wide as they flicker between Alfred and Ubbe. "What are you doing?" you whisper, shifting under him as he presses his body against yours.
Ubbe turns your gaze back to him, his thumb stroking your bottom lip. "Don't mind your husband. He called me here," he says.
You dig your nails into Ubbe's shoulders as you feel him lining his cock up with your entrance. "Why? I don't understand," you breathe out, turning your head back to your husband in the corner of the room.
Alfred shifts in his chair again, adjusting the strain in his pants at the sight of another man about to fuck his wife. And if what he's heard about how the Vikings fuck their women, you're in for a time tonight.
"Because I've seen the way you've looked at him. How you look at his other men," Alfred starts, waving his hand to gesture at the man hovering above you, slipping his cock into you. "After tonight, I hope that my message sticks in your head that you will not fuck another man. Unless I say so, that is," he says, smirking at you when your mouth falls in a moan as Ubbe starts to grind his hips against yours. "If you're going to act like a Heathen and have impure thoughts like one, you might as well be fucked by one."
"And I will happily oblige to do so," Ubbe whispers in your ear, grabbing your hips roughly after earning an approving nod from Alfred to go ahead.
With the look in Alfred's eyes, the hard bump in his pants showing how aroused this scene is for him, and the smile on his face as he watches you moaning under another man and your body convulsing in pleasure, it's definite that this is going to happen again in the future.
Did you enjoy this? Like my work? Support me and buy me a Ko-fi HERE!!
Summary: King Alfred's dark fantasies about you, the one he cannot have, will surely lead to your demise at the hands of your husband
Warnings: +18 content, MINORS DNI, dark content, vivid description of death/murder, non(dub)con, smut, fingering, strong language, forced cheating, angst, blood dark!alfred, I haven't written smut in a long time so I need to get used to it again, first time writing for alfred
Word Count: 1,911
Requested by anonymous:
Fuck Valentine's Day Masterlist II Vikings Masterlist
Alfred wipes his thumb over his lower lip, his eyes roaming over your body as you stand in front of him with your hands folded in front of you. Ever since he saw you arriving with the other Vikings, you had been the subject of his dreams and his fantasies. Though they started out innocent, as the days went on, they started to become more lustful especially when he thought of all the things he's heard about Viking women.
"I'm glad you came," Alfred says, leaning back in his throne as he smiles at you.
You shrug your shoulders, your eyes quickly glancing to the door across the room as it closes. You and Alfred are now completely alone. Not even a single guard in the room. "You ask to see me. Not to mention I had no choice but to accept as the guards practically dragged me here."
Alfred chuckles, glances down in amusement as he licks his lips before his gaze returns to you. He lifts his hands, beckoning you with two curling fingers.
You don't want to be closer than you already are but you push yourself forward to take a few steps forward.
Alfred laughs, shakes his head at you, and clicks his tongue against his teeth. "I don't bite, (Y/n). Come closer so I don't feel like I'm shouting across the room at you," he chuckles, making you walk forward again.
When you stop just a few feet away from him, he raises his eyebrow at you as if to ask if he has to ask you to move closer again. Your heart skips a beat and you swallow roughly as you sheepishly walk closer again. So close that when he stands up from his throne, his face is just in front of yours.
"That's better now, isn't it?" he whispers, a smirk growing across his lips as he raises his hand to run his fingers across the showing skin of your chest. None of the women in court dress like this. It's invigorating.
"Is there something you wanted, King Alfred?" you ask, trying not to shiver at his touch or repel in disgust or discomfort.
"There is. But I cannot have what I want. People would judge me for it," he says, his fingers running up your neck and across your jawline as you swallow roughly yet again. "I have not stopped thinking about you. Or about what I would do to you if I had you for myself."
You know the meaning behind his words and it makes you pull your face away from his touch. "I'm loyal to my husband-"
"I've heard differently about women like you," he cuts you off, grabbing your hips and pulling you down onto his lap as he falls back into his throne.
Your hands land on his chest to stop you from falling against him, a breath catching in your throat when his hands slip under the skirts of your dress to touch the sides of your tights. "I've heard that Viking women are full of lust, full of sex. No wedding band can keep them in their husband's bed. I'm hoping that is true," he whispers, his voice dark and low as he moves his fingers between your legs.
When Alfred slips his fingers through your lips, your mouth drops in a gasp and your body goes stiff, making him smile gleefully and hum, content at feeling your wetness coating his fingers.
A curse falls off your lips as he slowly starts to move his fingers, your head falling back as your fingers grip onto his shirt. A hand shoots to his wrist, your eyes snapping open suddenly, and you stare at him with fear in your eyes. "Stop," you beg a pitiful plea.
"I don't think you really want me to. I can feel it," he growls, shifting his hand lower so his fingers can enter you, his free hand gripping your hips roughly to stop you from trying to get away. His lips move closer to your ear, making you hear his heavy breath as he breathes out. "You're so fucking wet."
You bite your lip to stop yourself from mewling or making any sound of pleasure as he curls his fingers into you, slowly pumping them in and out of you. You shouldn't want this. You should let this make you feel good.
But you can't help it.
His hand moves to the small of your back, encouraging your hips to rock forward, grinding against his hand as he adds a second finger into you. "I've dreamt about this. About you begging me to give you this pleasure. About fucking you until you shake," he whispers into your ear, speeding up his pace and making a moan escape from your lips. It earns a pleased laugh from Alfred and he presses his lips to your neck. "I plan on doing all that to you and more, (Y/n). Regardless of whether or not you have a husband or not."
Your head drops between your shoulders as you let out another moan, shame filling your body as you move your hips against his hand, his fingers working steadily into you, picking up their pace with every moment that passes.
"Please, don't do this," you mutter between moans, resting your forehead against his shoulder as you dig your fingers into his shoulders. You can feel your release working up, your walls clenching with need as your hips continue to undulate against his hands between your legs.
"I'm afraid there is nothing you can say that will change my mind," he sternly says, pulling you away from his shoulder to make you look at him, so he can see the disappointed look in your eyes as he pulls his fingers out of you, ceasing the pleasure in your veins. "But, maybe, I will let you leave my palace tonight only if you let me fuck you anyway I want to."
You bit your lower lip, dropping your head in shame as you think about your options. "And if I don't?"
"I'll fuck you either way."
Before you can open your mouth to fight back, he returns his fingers back to where they had been, this time not bothering to ease you into it and go slow.
His fingers pound into you, making your back arch and your mouth fall open with a moan. Alfred smiles at your reaction, his lips returning to your neck to kiss your skin, to mark you as he had dreamt.
Your release builds again, quickly, making your body feel like it's on fire. Curses fall from your tongue, your eyes rolling back in your head, and prayers uttering in your mind that your husband doesn't find out about this.
When he feels your walls clenching around his fingers, he grabs a handful of your hair, pulling your head so that you can look him in the eyes when you cum.
"Open your eyes. Look at me," he orders.
You obey, feeling yourself burst with a quick movement of his fingers. You gust over his fingers, your hips twitching as he brushes his thumb over your clit. He smiles at you, a wicked glimmer flickering in his eyes as he chuckles in approval. "We're going to have some fun tonight."
And he fucked you. He did whatever he wanted to you, forced you to fulfill his darkest dreams and desires, whispering in your ear how much he's thought about doing these things to you since he saw you for the first time.
You let him do what he wanted to do to you with the promise that he would give you the pleasure you wanted. He promised he would return you to your husband.
But by the time you had left, you weren't sure if you wanted to return to him. Not because you wanted to be with Alfred for longer, but because you feel so ashamed when you walk out of the king's chambers.
You sit in the bath that you had made sure to be filled with hot water, thinking you could wash away your mistakes and regret. But you still feel like a used sex slave. Is that what you've become now to King Alfred? Surely this can't mean the end of his dark, lustful dream. It's most likely only the beginning.
How sinister are they going to become?
You wish you had stayed in Kattegat.
Hearing your husband walk in, you drop your head between your shoulders, hoping that he doesn't know what you did. It's probably the one time you hope that he had been drinking somewhere and didn't witness you being escorted back here by Alfred's guards. That has probably already caused some suspicions among your guild.
But your husband has always been a suspicious man who always seems to know what's going on around him. That's why you've never been able to lie to him or keep something secret from him. You doubt this will be different.
"Where did you go for so long?" he questions, his footsteps slow and heavy behind you, making your body tremble in the tub as you bring your knees closer to your body.
"King Alfred wanted to see me," you quickly say, keeping your gaze on the water you sit in. "He just wanted to talk."
It was a stupid excuse and you knew it the moment it left your mouth. You knew your husband wouldn't believe it.
You hear him stop for a moment behind you, breathe out a laugh, and then start to walk towards you. "Just wanted to talk, hey?" he asks, kneeling behind you, so close that you can feel his breath on the back of your neck.
When you feel something cold pressing against your collarbone, your head snaps down to find that your husband is holding a knife to your skin. Your heart skips a beat and you quickly turn your head around to look at him.
There's a dark look in his eyes. Not the same kind that the King had. No. While the King had a dark lust in his eyes, your husband has dark murder in his.
The Gods are not in your favor tonight.
"Did you fuck him?"
You whisper your husband's name, begging him not to do this as tears roll down your cheeks. But instead of lowering the blade, he moves it up to your neck and presses it against your skin.
"I told you what I'd do to you if I ever found out that you fucked another man."
He did tell you. And he never breaks his word.
It's one swift movement, as he would do to someone on the battlefield. The knife cuts through skin, muscle, veins, and arteries, making a red river flow down your chest and into the bathwater encapsulating you.
When you try to bring a hand up in a useless attempt to stop the bleeding, your husband pushes your hand back into the water, sneering at you like you're his sworn enemy.
It's only when your body goes limp against the wooden frame of the tub that he stands up to walk away, leaving your blood to fill the tub.
The water turns a deep, dark color, almost like mud. Because no amount of water would clean the filth in your blood after fucking the Saxon king, your husband thinks as he removes his shirt stained with your blood.
Did you enjoy this? Like my work? Support me and buy me a Ko-fi HERE!!
