Can i request a kissing prompt with ragnar? Maybe "a kiss so desperate that the two wind around each other, refusing to let go until they are finished." (14) Thank you!
It was hard to not take him right there on the docks.
Ragnar had been gone for nearly a third of the year, him and his men enthralled with the riches and beautiful, potential lands, insistent on you staying back to watch over your farm and the animals you’d cared for.
Eight months without the man you loved. Eight months without the man you treasured, you were going to be sure to worship every aching inch of him the moment you could.
And worship you did.
Laying under the soft furs Ragnar had brought home, you gently panted into his neck, desperate to ground yourself from the intensity you two had just finished. His arm wrapped around you protectively, calloused thumb grazing over your scorching hot skin. The candles and fires illuminating your room sway curiously, casting romantic shadows to dance over your walls, and you only wish to have been able to see the beautiful art your lovemaking illustrated.
“You... are everything to me,” he mumbles softly, licking his upper lip of sweat. “I looked to the Gods to watch over you every night.” His free arm comes up to have his fingers sway in the air as if to tell a story. “To Freya, every night to fill my dreams with your presence.” He turns his head to look at you, grinning mischievously. “And she most certainly gave me that privilege.”
You giggle and hide your face away in his shoulder, relishing in the husky chuckle he returns that you also missed beyond even your understanding. “You are quite the talker, my love,” you purr, one of your legs tossing over his waist. “Always knowing what to say...”
“I only speak the truth,” he whispers back, gently lifting your chin to face him. You reward him with another smile and lean forwards to connect his lips with yours, which he complies.
A passionate heat broils in your belly, one only Ragnar could bloom and tenderly, you deepen the kiss, your tongue exploring his and his own tracing every tooth and gum line, determined to memorize you. Your arms come up to weave tightly around him and he grips you tighter, free paw coming down to squeeze and caress your ass. Your core grinds over him, letting a breathy moan to escape your lips. You pull back slightly as you feel him grin against your lips, and before you can look at him, he maneuvers you to straddle his thick lap, smirking up at you as his once again hardened member presses into your lower stomach.
“You are insatiable, Ragnar,” you scold playfully, leaning down to kiss him gingerly. Pulling back, he nudges his nose with yours, an indicator to keep close as his hands trace up your sides and paw at your bare breasts.
“We have eight months to make up for, my beloved,” he hums, angling his head to litter your chest with wet kisses, goosebumps blossoming over your skin with each graze of his stubble. “Much.. much to do.”
A/N: Request from @thebeckyjolene. I really need to catch up on Vikings... enjoy, everyone! ♥
Words: 1315
Warnings: forced marriage, mentions of slavery, mentions of violence/rape, fluff
When you were younger, you had asked your mother where you would be in ten years from now. You asked if you would become a princess, a queen or a warrior. Back then, she had told you that you could become anything you wanted. But never had she thought that you would become a slave.
When the Vikings came to raid your little town, your whole world fell apart like a house of cards. You saw violence, blood and the most atrocious traits in human beings which you could have possible imagined.
Your father had fought, like every other inhabitant. But the Vikings were not to underestimate. They were brutal. With raw and sheer force did they slay the town like cattle, leaving tears and trails of blood as they walked, taking all that looked precious and sellable.
You had hidden in the tiny broom closet of your house, next to an old broom and an empty wooden bucket and hugging your knees to your chest in a desperate attempt to block out the heart-breaking screams and battle cries on the streets.
It was the last thing you remembered. Up until this day, you did not know whether your parents still lived. All you knew was that you had been forced into a new life, to serve the Vikings as a slave in their homeland. And if that wasn’t bad enough already, it did not take long for their leader, Ragnar, to take an interest in you.
You were not just any woman. You were the daughter of a noble family with good connections to the royals and politicians in your lands. Ragnar knew that—so when he proposed a marriage for his own gain… you realised your fate was sealed.
You attempted to escape three times. Three times you were brought back, three times you were castigated. Now your only hope and ace up your sleeve was the fact you were very well aware that the royals would never accept a Viking wedding without any annotations in their books and documents… but it did not stop Ragnar from marrying you.
And then… then you expected an even worse life than the one you had already been forced to live. It all came different. Ragnar was surprisingly… peaceful. He treated you reserved but respectfully… and when you first refused to share his bed with him for sex, he did not touch you. As his wife, a Viking woman had explained to you, your status was higher than that of a mere slave. You had rights… and it would be wrong for him to rape his own wife. Besides, he had children of his own already. As of now, there was no reason for him to impregnate you.
Your relationship was cool nonetheless. You could not forgive him for doing this to you—for forcing you into a life you had never wanted. You felt trapped, captured… and you feared the consequences if you tried to escape again.
So you kept quiet, did as you were told and shut your heart. There was only one other woman you spoke to properly… with Ragnar, you only ever exchanged but few words.
There was only one bed in his house. Big enough for two but nonetheless, only one. The only body contact the two of you ever initiated was when you went to sleep… and at night, when he felt you freeze, he pulled you close against his body to warm you. It was very often the case, as you were not used to the cold weather up in the North.
Only it did not keep away the nightmares. Nightmares of faceless monsters and devilish creatures from hell who meant to slash your chest and feast on your intestines. What those dreams meant, you did not know… and they might have something to do with the day you were taken. But they were terrible.
You flinched when you felt a hand tightening around your neck, waking in an instant. There… another nightmare. Swallowing thickly, you attempted to stop your loud panting, to slow down your rapid heartbeat. The worst was… that your reality was not all too much better than your dreams.
Shaking from terror, you climbed out of bed, careful not to wake Ragnar whose hand rested on your hip. You pushed him away, your bare soles touching the cold ground, and then sneaked outside, towards the sea.
A walk in the moonlight had always helped you calm down when you were younger. Back then, your mother had stayed up half the night with you, exploring the many stars up in the sky. For a few quiet and peaceful moments, you strolled along the shore until you ended up at the dock, remembering your past and memories you were fond of.
It was then you suddenly heard steps on the gravel behind you. You froze, turning slowly to study whoever was approaching you only to see a dark silhouette in the pale moonlight.
“Come back to bed.” Ragnar’s voice ordered softly. “It is not safe out here for you at night. What are you doing?”
Safe. That was right. There were a lot of people in Ragnar’s ‘tribe’ as you liked to call it, who did not take kindly in his leader position. They would do anything to take that power from him—even if that included killing you.
“Nothing… I woke up and I couldn’t fall back asleep. I thought a walk would help.”
“You should have woken me. Something could have happened to you. I was worried.” For a Northman, his English was incredibly good. He knew what to say and how to say it and that impressed you. Still, you sighed, knowing that he was right.
“I… had a nightmare.” You choked out, quickly turning your gaze back to the sea and the stars. Tears were the last thing you needed. Weakness was the last thing you wanted to show him. And yet… his words somewhat softened you. Something could have happened to you. I was worried.
Did he truly care for you? He married you because of your status, not out of love. This was the first time you spoke to him properly, the first time you showed him your true feelings. You were devastated.
Ragnar approached you with but a few determined steps. Fearing that he would punish you physically for sneaking away for something as trivial as a nightmare, you squeezed your eyes shut—only to find yourself in his arms the fraction of a second later. You gasped before the tears started rolling over your reddened cheeks freely.
“They… keep coming back.” You sobbed. “Almost every night… I see faces… monsters… creatures that hurt me, chase me and want to kill me.”
“They are not real,” Came his instant reply. “They cannot harm you in your dreams, (Y/N).”
Nodding, you leaned against his chest, melting into his embrace. He could not protect you from your nightmares but at least he could protect you from the real threats that lurked in the dark. Never before had you witnessed him so gentle, so kind. Could he always be like that if you spoke to him and told him how you felt? Perhaps it was worth a try.
“I don’t want to go back to sleep.”
“Then I will stay up with you.” He shrugged, making himself comfortable on the wooden boards of the dock. With gentle force, he pulled you down so you came to sit on his lap and wrapped his arms around you from behind.
“I know what you are thinking. I am not a monster, (Y/N). I will look after you. You are my wife. Try to rest.” It was the first time you believed him. The first time you had hope and the first time marriage was not but an empty word that held no value to you.
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A/N: If you enjoyed this story, I would appreciate so much if you supported me on Kofi! kofi.com/sserpente ♥
Hi! I was wondering if I could request "Did you just lick me?" and "When will you learn you cannot run from me?" where there's just a playful fluffy moment between either Ragnar (if you write for him) and the reader as his daughter, or Ubbe and the reader as his sister! Idk, maybe the reader's annoying him and so he retaliates by tickling her!
A/N: this is kinda bad in my opinion, so, I’m sorry anon.
Ragnar as Y/N father
You creeped behind the large throne of your father, he had been sitting there all day, talking with people, feasting, drinking, almost sleeping too. Your hands softly rested on the sides of the chair, and your head popped out from the side, "father!"
"Oh!" Ragnar's blue hues looked toward you, you could see the faint sign of relief in his face, "it is you."
You smiled, coming around the edge of the chair to face him. You frowned, kneeling on the side, resting your head on the arm rest, "I'm bored!"
He rolled his eyes, "Kattegat not treasure nuff for my child?"
"Is it ever?"
He smiled, sitting up and resting a hand on your hair, "go with Ubbe, or Bjorn, shoot arrows or play."
You let out a groan, "Ubbe is with a slave girl, and Bjorn is no where to be found."
"Hvitserk?" You shook your head, "Sigurd?"
"Playing music."
"Ivar?"
You furrowed your brows, "has Ivar ever asked to play with me?"
He smiled, brushing your hair away from your face. You were the second youngest child, and it seemed to young to be around Ubbe, Hvitserk, or Bjorn, while too old for Ivar. "Go find your mother? She will play."
You whined, "fatherrr," a frown smearing your lips, "I wish to play with you."
He frowned, opening his arms for his only daughter to climb upon his lap, "Come here, I will tell you a story then?"
You moved your brows together, a look of disgust on your face, "a story? Daddy, I do not wish to hear another story about your raid in England."
He smiled, "the gods shun your cockiness."
"I have heard every story to leave your lips, I seem to be unamused now."
He looked offended, "then what do you wish to do little one?"
You smiled, moving to whisper in his ear. Though, instead of your soft voice escaping your lips, you left a wet spot on the side of his cheek, making sure not to touch his the whiskers on the edge of his beard. You giggled as you pulled off him, standing in front of him, "did you just lick me?"
"Father," your face turned serious, "I would never do such a thing.”
A small, wicked smile creeped across his face, “my child,” he stood from his throne, “those who mess with a king will be punished.”
You couldn’t help but crack a smile, “but those adored by him shall prosper,” you remember him telling you that, in hopes you would learn to never double cross a king.
He laughed, “I’m gonna get you Y/N!” Jumping down from the steps, you ran past him. The thick fabrics separating the hall from the back didn’t form any resistance as you ran through them. Rushing to find a suitable place to hide, as you could hear your father’s steps behind you, “Y/N, I can hear you!” Ragnar rushed through the red fabrics, a rush of adrenaline coursing through him as he began his search.
You dashed under a wooden table, but soon you could feel your giggles escaping your lips as you heard him stop, sensing where you were within the room. You quickly moved your hands to your lips, attempting to conceal the noises escaping from you.
When you heard him walk closer, your grip only got tighter. He stopped again, this time, you could see his brown boats from under the fur.
He took a moment, before bending down, slowly lifting the light grey fabrics to reveal the wicked smile painted on his face, “when will you learn you cannot run from me my child?” Your eyes widened as you attempted to get out of the encasing table, “oh no you don’t.” He gripped your wrist, and in one swift motion, you were picked up by him, his hands creating a burning feeling within your stomach.
“Stop!” You kept laughing, his fingers dancing other the fabric of your dress, “daddy stop!”
He pulled away, “do not lick a king,” his eyes were wide as his serious face was broken with a smile. He lifted his pointer finger to tickle your exposed neck, making you fall into him. He smiled, kissing your head, “c’mon,” he began to walk you towards the main hall, “we shall see what your brothers are doing.”
