Kinktober Day twenty-four: thigh riding/dry humping with Ragnar Lothbrok – after taking a Christian girl prisoner he decides to show you the pleasure a heathen can feel
Word count: 1491
Warnings: talks of religion, religious corruption, religious guilt, teasing, heavy flirting, mini crisis of faith ig, being ragnars pet/prisoner, making out, thigh riding, smut 18+
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“She is a Christian,” Floki whispered in Ragnars ear as the pair studied the girl presented to them, “We should get rid of her, not drag her around with us. She will only slow us down,”
While Floki’s eyes bore into Ragnars skull the kings’ eyes lingered elsewhere. They had taken your village some days ago when one of his men found you hiding in the forest. The sight of you on your knees, even if it were to pray to a false god to survive, was enough to convince Ragnar.
“I should like to keep her,” he said, watching how your lips wrapped around the words you mumbled, “Untie her hands,” he commanded one of his men as Floki sighed.
“What is it with you and your Christian pets? At least keep her hands bound,” he tried to reason but Ragnar just shook his head. He knew you wouldn’t run.
A couple of weeks had passed of successful raiding and gold was beginning to pile up around him. Ragnar sat at the makeshift feast they had decided to throw after taking another village however his eyes were once again on the Christian girl who sat across from him. At first you used to flush under his gaze, a sight he enjoyed and often tried to tease out by whispering pretty words in your ear.
Ragnar leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, “What are you thinking about?” he asked, your eyes snapping up to meet his.
“That I may sleep soon. The night is growing long,”
“That is an excellent idea. Perhaps I should join you,” he said, smirking at the way you began to stutter and flush, “Tell me something. Where you married before?”
You paused for a moment before answering, “No, why?”
Ragnar shook his head, “well I heard,” he said, leaning in closer and grinning as you did the same as his voice dropped to a whisper, “that it is only the married ones who get fucked,”
“I-well-I- yes it would be a sin otherwise,” you stuttered out, face growing hot as Ragnar poured himself another glass of wine. “I’m not even supposed to talk about…that,”
“Why not?”
“It is a sin,”
“Why?” he asked, tilting his head like a curious child.
The awkward smile worn on your lips made a real one grow on his face, “Because god said so,”
“Have you spoken to god,”
“Well, no,”
“Then how do you know?” a frustrated sigh left your lips that made Ragnars grin widen. He was getting to you and enjoying every moment of it. he leaned in closer once more, whispering for your sake more than anything,” Why would a god create something so beautiful then not let you appreciate its wonders?”
“It is a sin,” you clung to the excuse, realising you did not know why either.
The laugh that left his mouth however caught you off guard and your lips twitched, almost forming a smile at the smile on his face. That was until he spoke again, “Perhaps we should sin together one time,” he said, standing and grabbing his cup of wine. Before he could leave, he sauntered over to whisper one last thing in your ear, “And the idea of you falling apart on my cock is enough to make me believe in my god,”
A few more weeks had passed and soon you would be heading back with the raiders to their land. Despite still being wary of many of the men some, Ragnar specifically, had grown on you. “Where will I stay when you take me back with you?” you asked one night as you began to brush through your hair.
Ragnar glanced at you as he began to unlace his boots. While he had unbound your hands, he had insisted on keeping you in his tent, thankfully on your own bed, thought you wondered if this was for his entertainment or safety, “I will find somewhere for you,” he answered simply before reaching to pull his shirt over his head.
Despite seeing this sight many times, the way his muscles flexed, and his tattoos gleamed against his skin made a tingle shoot through your spine. “So, I won’t be a slave? Or is it a thrall you call them?”
Ragnar paused for a moment, his eyes scanning over you, “You need not worry little one. I will take care of you,”
A moment passed before you allowed yourself to smile, “Thank you Ragnar,” you said and a small smile crept onto his lips as he settled himself above his sheets, his eyes scanning over you.
“Come here,” he said, nervousness washing over you, “Trust me,”
You paused at first before standing from beneath your covers. Your underdress was the only thing to cover you now as you crossed the tent. Ragnar patted the spot beside him and cautiously you sat down, picking at your thumbs. His hand closed over yours, “You’ll make yourself bleed,” he said, and you just nodded as his eyes continued to study your face.
“Has anyone ever kissed you?” he whispered.
You swallowed before answering, “Once,” you said, tempted to pick at your skin but somehow resisting, “But I wasn’t very good at it,”
“Perhaps you should try again,” he whispered, his hot breath fanning over your skin as he moved to rest his forehead against yours.
“Perhaps you could teach me,” you whispered, a spark lighting in his eyes, “if I am to go back to your land perhaps it is time I Learned your ways,”
“All our ways?” he asked, his hand reaching over to run his fingers lightly up your thighs making you shiver, “Is that what you desire little one?”
“Would it be so wrong if I did?” you asked and the way your wide eyes gazed into his made Ragnars cock begin to harden.
His hand trailed slowly up your leg, torturously so until it arrived at your hip. You gasped when he grabbed it, pulling you over to straddle his thigh. “Ragnar- “you gasped, when he bent his leg up, propping you up on his strong thigh, “What are you doing?”
“Teaching,” his hands reached for your hair, pulling your lips down onto his. This was far different from the last time someone had kissed you. this was rough and needy and made whines leave your throat as one of his hands moved to your hips.
You couldn’t even question what he was doing before he began to move your hip, making you grind down onto his thigh. The way you whimpered made Ragnar wonder if Odin himself had blessed him. Ragnar guided your hips and soon your body took over, rubbing your clit against his strong thigh as his hand squeezed the flesh of your hips.
When he pulled his lips away yours chased after his making a chuckle leave them before he began to kiss down your jaw. “You don’t need to be quite little one,” he mumbled against your skin as a soft moan left your mouth, “No one will judge,”
His lips soon found the crook of your neck, kissing it in a way that made a knot in your stomach tighten. Since your hips now moved of their own accord his hands were free to travel up your frame, taking your tits in his hand and making you gasp as he squeezed them softly.
He felt his cock twitch at the feeling of the Hardened buds beneath your shift. His fingertips trailed slowly around your nipples at first, enjoying your needy whines before he finally began to roll them between his fingers.
“Oh god,” you moaned as he pinched them gently, but your words just made him want you more and groan against your skin.
It didn’t take long for a tight feeling to spread across your body, “What is happening to me?” you asked but it came out as more of a whine.
“Enjoy it little one,” Ragnar said, his lips moving to kiss your check, “Let yourself let go,” he said before your lips slammed onto his even catching yourself by surprise. Your moans allowed him to slip his tongue in, the kiss becoming messier and more desperate as you grinded against his thigh.
He felt your body jerk and Ragnar smirked into the kiss knowing what was about to happen. Your lips broke apart only for your head to fall in the crook of his shoulder, “Oh god,” you began to moan again before you felt your peak wash over you like a tidal wave.
sensing your body tensing and hips slowly Ragnar reached for your hips, moving them for you so he could watch you ride out your peak on his thigh. Curses left your lips before you finally slumped into his chest. Ragnar let out a small chuckle, letting his leg lay flat and holding you against his chest. Ragnar had defiantly made the right decision he thought.
Hello! how are you? I don't know if your requests are still open, but I would like to ask Ragnar something... with a lot of dirt, something like Ragnar falls in love with a Christian she meets his desires with a lot of dirt... lol thank you! (sorry my first language is not english) 😝
Thank you so much for this request, you have no idea how much your support for my writing means. Not proofread we die like men
Requests are open
Little Doe
4,166 words
Warnings: Fluff, smut, P in V sex, oral sex (M and F receiving), fingering, loss of virginity, running away to live with a handsome Viking, talks of religious repression and arranged marriage. While this sort of fits with the cultural timeline, I must stress that it's all consensual. Period typical treatment of daughters and women.
Ragnar sees you from far away on a raid. It's love at first sight, and now he has to have you.
He had been trudging through the woods when he saw you, crouched by a stream in nothing but your undergarments washing your clothes.
He was awestruck, it was like Frigg herself had opened up a window to Valhalla to shine upon you.
The rustle of other raiders behind him pulled him out of his daydreams; you in the river, coming out with your clothes stuck to your form.
"By the Gods, she is beautiful" at that moment Ragnar hated the sound of that man's voice, you were his alone to look at, to admire.
"She's not yours to pluck Olaf, we must stay quiet or we'll reveal our position." Ragnar felt like a wolf staring down a doe, you would be his.
He gave a whispered order to the rest of his men "we have no idea how many people are in the area, we need to backtrack and go through a more dense area of forest."
His men listened without a question, he knew he was just adding hours to their journey but there was no way he would put you in their path.
"Frode take them men around the back while I stay here and check for scouts" Ragnar knew there were no scouts in the area, the men here were lazy and clearly didn't know how to fight. He was there to take a longer look at you, maybe he would even get to hear your voice.
He moved closer methodically, being careful not to make a sound, then he slipped on a loose rock.
You're head shot up at the soft sound, you have heard rumours of men from the north coming to your shores and you were prepared. Your damp clothes forgotten, you reached behind a rock to produce a sword.
Ranger watched as you took the stance of a warrior, sword held in hand like a practised expert. He felt pride spread through his chest, maybe his little doe was more of a wolf than he thought.
He slinked away, content at his first experience of your beauty.
Your POV
You were being watched, you could feel it like cold hands running up your back. A soft crack directed you towards a cluster of trees, for only a brief movement you saw a flash of white flesh and the outline of a large man.
A realisation of both fear and excitement crossed over you, the Northmen were here.
"I saw a man in the trees this morning father." You had mentioned it in passing while you chopped the vegetables, your Father was sitting in a wooden chair doing nothing, as usually.
"It's was probably one of the boys spying on you, I really wish you would wash from the well, you will dishonour my good name if you keep it up."
You hated the man, he was a lazy, rude, drunk. Not only that, but he was planning on marrying you off to the highest bidder the moment your older brother left. You were already late to marry, having turned down every suiter at your door, your Father would be very displeased if he found out you had no plans on marrying the man he had lined up for you.
Ragnar POV
He could not think of anything other than the feel of your skin under his hands, he imagined it would be soft but with the hardness of village life underneath.
He imagined the children you would give him, he could see girls as brave and beautiful as you, with his eyes and your hair.
He imagined you as his Queen.
****
Your POV
It had been three days since you saw a flash of a man by the river. A storm had come upon the area, God was angry for some reason, maybe it's because you couldn't stop thinking about a faceless man whisking you away from here, away from your Father and your wrathful God.
"We need water!" your Father's voice was far too booming for your small home. It was pouring outside, the rain so cold it had turned into shards of hard ice.
"Father I collected enough for the day this morning" you knew you should have kept your mouth shut but it was so cold out there, and your bother had taken all your furs to go hunting.
He was not having your backtalk, before you knew it, you were being tossed outside, and the bucket was being launched at your head. "Go get some water from the river or you will sleep outside tonight."
The only thing you could feel was the cold, you were soaked the moment you started walking, but you could hear the river racing close by.
Wary of the things that might be lurking in the woods, you walked as fast as you could in the almost pitch dark. You hoped your Father had the sense to start a fire for your return.
As you got closer, the raging river was spitting icy water at your face, it felt like the brush of tiny knives. You have moved to a slower moving area pilled with rocks, at least if you fell in here you wouldn't be swept away. But it was slippery and the heavy bucket was weighing you down, all it took was one foot wrong and you were falling into the unforgiving water.
Ragnar POV
He had split from the group to have some time by himself and found himself by the same river he saw you washing in three days ago. His thoughts drifted to you for the millionth time that day when he heard a pained shout, his head flung over just in time to see your form falling under the water.
His legs were moving before his brain gave him permission, he could see you losing the flight to the cold and the current. He did not hesitate to pull off his tunic and drive into the shallow water after you.
The cold didn't bother him, many swims in the frozen North Sea had prepared him for this very moment, he reached you with speed he didn't think was possible, it was as if Hermod the Swift had taken control over his body.
Your POV
This must be the coldness of death, your lungs burnt with the urge to breathe, you had seen people disappear under the cold water more than once, you knew you had to get out but the rolling surface was drifting suther and further away.
Then you felt it, an agonising heat that felt like the hands of a demon, and then you could breathe. The last thing you saw was a face and a mass of hair before you passed out.
Ragnar POV
You were shaking and there was no life to your skin, gone was the woman who looked ready to slit him from navel to nose, he felt as if he was holding the most fragile thing in all the nine realms.
He saw the looks he was getting as he came upon his tent, he did not care. Your clothes were stuck to you in the worse way possible, he could almost see them sucking the heat from your skin.
"You can never let someone stay in wet clothes, they will steal the warmth from someone. I've seen people die faster from wet clothes than from the cold water" He was ever grateful for Kattegat's healer, the insistent that everyone learns how to treat a drowning victim had never gone astray.
This was not how he imagined removing your clothes for the first time. In his dreams, you were awake and responsive, he imagined you would moan like a valkyrie.
He chose to advert his eyes while he pulled off your life-sucking clothing, he would look at you when you were awake and soft and small under his touch.
Duty done, he wrapped you in as many furs as he could find and went about building a fire close enough to the tent that you would be able to feel its warmth.
****
Your POV
God must have taken pity on you, for you were sure you were in heaven. You were wrapped in something warm that smelt of spices and musk, you could hear the crackle of a fire and smell the burning wood.
Except as you opened your eyes, you didn't think heaven would look like a small canvas tent. When you sat up, you could see someone sitting just inside the tent, the man shared the same shape as the man you saw in the woods days ago, the man that picked you from the icy depths.
The warmth meant that it took time for you to realise you were naked. However, you felt no pain, only heat and safety. Regardless you looked for a weapon and your eyes fell on a small dagger in the corner.
"I'm not going to hurt you little doe, there's no need to stab me" his voice was foreign but friendly, his tongue slid over the words like cream falling over baked apples.
He looked like one of the paintings in the church, made by God himself and painted in his image. He had the kindest blue eyes you had ever seen, like pools of seawater in the winter.
"Thank you sir, but I must go back home. My Father will be worried sick" you knew he wasn't but that didn't matter, the rumours would spread fast and you couldn't be seen near a Northmen encampment.
"No, he won't, I overheard some men in your village talking about how much he wanted to get rid of you" he seemed very angry, it wasn't directed at you by you found it hard not to be scared of him.
When he saw the change in you he softened himself. "He sent you out in the freezing cold to collect water you didn't need, he hasn't sent anyone to look for you and he hasn't come looking himself." He was not being mean or harsh, his tone was kind, like how a parent explains a nastiness to a sensitive child.
You had no idea how he knew all of this. Maybe he was a demon.
"Don't be alarmed, little doe, you talk in your sleep" thoughts of evil were gone, all you could think of was this nice stranger wrapping you in his arms to keep the cold air at bay.
"You may stay here as long as you like, your clothes are almost dry." He looked so sad as if he was letting go of a bird whose wing he had healed.
"Or, you can stay and I can show you the world and make you my Queen."
****
That night had been uneventful after that, he had collected your clothes and turned his back while you dressed. When it came time to settle for the night he pressed himself to the opposite side of the tent so you could sleep in peace.
That didn't matter, by the time the morning glow drifted into the tent you were in his arms with your face pressed into his chest.
"Good morning little doe, did you sleep well?" he had a smug smile on his face, he knew something he wasn't letting on.
"Yes actually, for the first time in a long time I'm not waking up feeling like the walls are falling in on me."
"You really do talk in your sleep, I had no idea you thought I was so tall" you went to hind your face in shame but he grabbed your hands.
"There's no need for that anymore, when you come back to my kingdom you can have me as much as you want" it felt as if you'd known him your whole life, there was no doubt in your mind you would follow him to the ends of the earth.
He looked over your face carefully "So you are staying with me?"
You took a deep breath and squared your shoulders "I see no reason to go back, you've shown me more kindness in the last few hours than I've had in my whole life"
"Do you have a name little doe?" he didn't know what would fit you, he imagined it was something that reflected all he saw in you.
"Perhaps I should introduce myself first, I'm Ragnar Lothbrok, king of Kattegat and the scourge of Christians through all of England.
"I'm y/n, I have no titles or claims or royalty, just y/n." You seemed so sad, like you had been told being you wasn't enough.
Ragnar POV
He wanted to blood eagle your Father, however, he didn't deserve a warrior's death. So he would settle for raiding his village, corrupting his daughter, and then, he will make watch while he makes you his Queen.
He could see far more of you this close, the found the colour of your eyes and the fall of your hair more intoxicated than any mead or wine he has ever drunk.
His thoughts were drifting again, your hair wrapped in his hands, your lips around him. His thoughts didn't matter now, as far as he saw it you were his and he was yours.
****
The raid had ended much easier than he expected, the village was poorly defended and there was very little to take. In fact, per your request, no one unarmed was hurt and the men kept their hands to themselves.
Ragnar never had the stomach for that sort of thing, real men fought with their fists and swords so he had no problem telling his men to take the loot and leave the women.
Your younger Cousin had decided to follow you to Kattegat, wooed by Ragnar's brother's tales of women being able to learn to fight, of being able to own property and partake in the law.
The only one that was dragged away against their will was your Father. He was put in chains and made to walk behind Ragnar's horse, you could feel the steady breathing of the beast under you, Ragnar had been stunned by your care for the animal, your worry that he couldn't hold both of you.
The ride to the boats was calm, the horses trotted along stopping occasionally to eat some grass or drink some water. Your Father soon learnt to keep his mouth shut, he had met his match in Ragnar, all it took was one look and the man was shrinking away from him.
You had always been frightened of the ocean but the broiling sea may as have been an ocean breeze when you were in Ragnar's arms, you spent the journey hearing of tales from your new home and of the Gods.
As you got closer you could feel the excitement, it was like a charge in the air. Your cousin had taken a liking to one of the younger men, he couldn't have been more than 16 but he was tall and already had tattoos over his arms and chest. Ragnar told you he was a good choice, that he was a brave warrior and good man.
At the end the of last day you could see the fires of Kattegat burning in the distance and see the tall watchtowers. As the ship pulled into port you'd felt like you were coming home after being away for years, this place was so much brighter than your tiny hamlet.
****
Nightfall brought a huge feast, you had never seen so much food or so many kinds. Ragnar look at you with joy as you tried all the new things, fresh berries and tender meat that had been cooking for days
Ragnar lifted a sticky yellow goo to your mouth. You had grown to love every one of his touches, each one portraying his building affection.
"Is this honey?" There was a wonder in your voice that made his mind drift to other things.
"Try it and find out" he didn't know what you'd do, he was hoping you'd take his finger into your mouth so he could get a taste of what was to come.
You leaned forward and licked the tip of his finger, the slight of your pink tongue was making his life even harder. You couldn't help the smile that came over your face, it was the most delicious thing you had ever eaten.
You could see the expression on Ragnar's face, like he wanted to consume you whole, like he wanted to climb inside your chest and see what was going on in there.
"Perhaps you can show me to our new quarters?" you didn't want to overstep, maybe you only slept so close in the last few weeks because of the lack of space.
"Of course, my doe, it's getting late anyway."
****
The room was huge, in the middle was a vast bed that could have slept at least 4 people, it and the floor were covered in various furs and there were draws and chests throughout the room. It was lit with a few large candles, casting a soft yellow light that faded at the edges.
"This is your home now y/n I want you to have anything your heart desires"
"And if my heart desires you?"
You knew what you wanted to say but you were having trouble getting the words out. The open and casual contact was a lot to get used to. You had come from a place where you don't even kiss a man until your wedding night, and you were about to crawl into bed with someone who only a few weeks ago, you thought was a godless heathen.
"I heard some of the other men talking, they said you would enjoy me." You took another deep breath.
"I would like to be able to enjoy you as well"
Ragnar reached up to you with a soft touch, your eyes closed on instinct as he leaned in to kiss you. This was not the first time you two had kissed, it wasn't even the tenth but this one was different.
You could feel an edge, an urgency. You wanted nothing more than to collapse into him, to let him have you in whichever way his heart wished.
"I'm yours little doe"
With that you were falling to your knees, Ragnar looked a little shocked, if not very happy.
"I heard some other women talking, it sounded fun"
He let you undress him, let you run your hands over his body and regard him. You were a little taken aback when his undergarments were gone, sure you had seen one in person but it didn't look like that.
Ragnar saw your curious look, "We are much cleaner than English men, there's no need to remove anything when we bathe every day"
You suddenly looked shy.
"I'm not sure what I'm doing here" he ran his hands over your scalp, it was a gesture full of love.
"Do whatever feels right, I'll help you if you need it"
You wrapped your hand around it, you were surprised at how warm and soft it was.
"Can you show me what you like?" you wanted it to be good for him, you knew men strayed when they didn't get what they wanted.
He looked at you with such fondness as he reached down to wrap his hands over yours, his grip was a little harder as he moved your hand up and down his cock.
His head was slowly dropping back and his mouth was slightly open, you leaned forward and mimicked what you did to his finger earlier in the night and Ragnar inhaled like he was dying to breathe.
"You're doing so well my doe" Ragnar wanted nothing more than to fuck your face until he came down your throat but there's was plenty of time for that later.
Emboldened by his praise you put the tip in your mouth and sucked gently, Ragnar made the mistake of looking down at you and he realised that if he let you continue the night might end sooner than he wanted it to.
"Your turn y/n"
He stood to his full height and you suddenly felt very small. He was deliberate in removing your clothes, each piece gone was met with a brush of his hand over your skin and a kiss to your face.
"You are the most beautiful thing I've ever seen" by the look on his face you believed every word.
"Lay on the bed and relax"
You knew what was coming next, all the older girls talked about it.
"It always hurts, the sooner you put up with it the sooner it's over"
"Men don't care how we feel, they just get off and leave"
"Don't deny your husband ever, it will just make him hard to live with"
Ragnar saw the change in you, his touch become gentle and benign.
"We won't do anything you don't want to do and I promise I will never do anything to hurt you, if you don't like something or it causes you pain it stops"
You wanted to weep with relief, maybe the hushed whispers between some of the women were true and this would be good.
He kissed just your face at first, then he slowly moved down your body. Over each collar bone and to your breasts, he kissed your nipples and when you let out a breath he pull one into his mouth.
He looked up at you, assessing for a change of heart. When he found none, he continued his path down your body, over your hip bones up both your legs and then towards your centre.
"You're so wet already, good girl"
"Please" You had no idea what you were asking for but he seemed to. With a practised movement he licked from your clit to your entrance and then back again.
After doing that for a few minutes, he brought your clit into his mouth and sucked softly. Your back bowed, there was no way this could feel so good.
It got even better when you felt something breach you, it didn't hurt quite the opposite, it was a wonderful pressure that created an exquisite stretch. Another gasp, this one higher and more desperate.
"More, please more" all you could hear was the rush of blood in your ears and Ragnar's soft chuckle against your skin.
You felt him shift and the pressure increased, it was just past the good side of comfortable.
"I feel so full"
Ragnar didn't think he could get any harder, you were going to be so much fun.
"It's just two of my fingers my love, how about we do this for a little while then see how you feel?"
You nodded and then moaned as he pressed his fingers upwards. You were starting to feel overwhelmed in the best way possible. You felt something snap and within the next heartbeat, you were filled with amazing pleasure.
You lost count of how many times you reached that peak before Ragnar pulled away from you. He was spreading the ample wetness from his earlier work all over his cock.
"You are ready little doe?" You nodded violently.
"Remember, if it hurts we stop" the look he was giving you gave you the impression that he really meant what he said.
"Yes, please I need you"
With that, he was on top of you laying soft kisses on your lips, you could feel him moving his body around and then one hand was holding your leg open.
You felt more pressure, this time more intense.
More
More
More
And then it stopped and you felt as if he was going to spilt you open, he took in the look on your face and your small breaths.
"Do you want me to stop?" you shook your head.
"Do you want to stay here, just like this for a little while?" you gave a tentative nod and he pressed some more weight onto you. It was comforting, the added weight of his body added to the floating feeling that was taking over your brain.
It may have been a minute it may have been a heartbeat when you felt the uncomfortable fullness fade.
"Move please" with another kiss to your lips Ragnar began a slow drag in and out.
In out in out in out in out in out.
Your fingers dug into his arms.
In out in out in out in out in out in out in out in out.
oh boy do I have something for you, anon. Also, come and get him @mrsragnarlodbrok
Ragnar x fem!Reader
HIS HAND IS rough when his fingers curl around your bicep and his grip strong —punishing in his fit of blind rage. Ragnar’s breath is hot against the back of your neck, but unlike you, he appears calm. The madness is only alight in the stormy depths of his eyes. You turn to face him and see the red streaks across his cheek that align perfectly with your fingers. “This is not what I agreed to!” You hiss, face twisted at the very thought of the Saxon King’s terms —terms to which your husband accepted without contemplation, without consulting those closest to him, you included. Collateral is what Ecbert of Wessex called it —an exchange of high-ranking and valued individuals to remain in good faith.
Ragnar looks down his nose at you, tilting his head, and leans down, his voice a venomous whisper at your ear. “Necessity demands our plans change,” he reminds you. His dream —your dream— of a peaceful life with the fertile English soil meant pacifying the Saxons one way or another. If that meant allying his people with one king to help bring the downfall of another, then so be it. There are far worse things that could have come out of the meeting than sending his beloved to stay with Christians.
He steps back, hand falling away from your arm, daring you to speak against his decision again with only a look. But anger still festers in the pit of your stomach. Decisions such as this —affecting your people, your future— should not be made in haste. You first came to England together, and Ragnar had made promises now broken. You lift your chin, rage giving way to a sickly-sweet smile. “Do not forget, Ragnar,” you begin, “I am your wife. The mother of your children.”
The words strike something deep within him —the insinuation that he could ever forget you are the woman he swore himself to, the woman who gifted him two strong sons and a gentle daughter. Ragnar's nose twitches as he reaches for you with a closed fist. The backs of his knuckles brush over your cheek. He blinks, and it is though his eyes are brighter than ever, laced with determination and madness. You exhale, a shaky breath, refusing to back down until he says something, anything. His hand follows a braid in your hair, down your neck —fingers splaying out over the flesh. “How could I?” He taunts, thumb pressing against your jaw.
Neither of you is willing to back down, to set this aside and carry on. It is Ragnar who breaks first, knowing he is not prepared to feel your absence in the coming weeks. His kiss is aggressive and impatient. He moves his lips against yours like a man unrestrained, finally able to consume what —no, who— he’s been craving since you first stormed off into the trees from the meeting. He steps closer, forcing you back until you bump against the trunk of a great ash tree.
You match his greedy touch without hesitation, running your hands up his torso, over the metal rings sewn into his dark raven armor, and around his neck, arching your back to fit the curve of his chest. He hooks his hand around the back of your knee and hikes it over his hip, pressing his pelvis to yours. You feel the ridge of his half-hard cock pressed against your hip. Seeing you like this made his blood boil in more ways than one. And his kiss, controlling and bruising, and the light pressure on your neck —heat pools low in your belly.
With the heat of his mouth and the broad expanse of his form, he envelops you, devours you. Ragnar releases you, his hands darting to the ties of his britches. You mimic his movements, ridding yourself of your swordbelt and the painted shield on your back —throwing both to the forest floor. But you are not quick enough to satiate his temper and impatience. Ragnar shoves your hands out of the way, pulling at the ties of your pants. He towers over you, leering when he sees the hunger in your eyes and feels the heat flushing your skin —hears the shallow breaths passing your parted lips when he presses you tightly between the tree and his body.
His hands stray from your waist to the back of your thighs, lifting you —and only a moment later, his cock is nudging at your slick cunt before he presses himself into you with a fluid snap of his hips. It pulls a ragged groan from his lips as he feels your warmth engulf him. With your ankles linked at the base of his spine, the heels of your soft leather boots pressing against his back, you carve your fingernails into the ropes of muscle rippling across his shoulder blades through the wool of his tunic.
Ragnar bites down hard where your neck and shoulder join, tearing a yelp from your hoarse throat and leaving a lasting mark to remember this moment. Your eyes flash open, meeting his —wild, dangerous, carnal. It is all you can do to hold fast to him, to keep from falling as he thrusts into you over and over, trying to meet his hips with your own. You arch into him, hands moving from his shoulders to his neck. Ragnar bares his teeth when you pull back on his warrior’s braid, hard enough to tilt his head back. His next thrust is harsh —retaliation.
Breathless, you seek out his lips, and he obliges with a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss —panting and moaning into each other’s mouth. He knows you are right on the precipice, and he leans in closer, giving you that nudge and his permission in a raspy whisper against your ear. You clench around his twitching cock.
A strangled groan passes through his gaping mouth as he presses through the tightness —striking the place that makes your limbs go weak. “Ragnar,” you plead, the whisper of his name a prayer that saps away whatever ire he’d felt before this moment. He shifts, the angle changes and each thrust sends a spark of friction where you are joined. Ragnar watches as your head tilts back, eyes droop shut, and ecstasy overtakes you, but he is not done yet —has not had his fill.
He slams into you and clamps his hands around your waist so he can yank you back onto his cock. His thrusts are uneven, uncaged, unhinged. Ragnar pants and grunts and groans against your neck, using your body to chase his own end. All you can do is hold tight and endure the punishment until his hips lose their rhythm. He presses his face against your neck, cock twitching as he spills himself deep in your warmth, listening to the sound of your thundering heartbeat.
Ragnar keeps you pinned against the tree with his hips, his hands pressing yours back into the rough bark. The scrape of the tree against your backside and hands, his cock softening and seed dripping from your ruined cunt —it’s too much, and just for the moment, you will forget your previous misgivings and relish the feel of him. A warm thought to keep you company on lonely nights. He leans toward you, lips ghosting along your jawline until he reaches your ear. “Do not forget,” he echoes, almost mocking your previous words, but the glint in his eyes is more mirth than anger now, “I am your husband.”
He lets you down and steps back, righting himself as you do the same on shaky legs, replacing your swordbelt and shield as he picks up his axe and sword. You step to him, resting your hand over the fading marks on his cheek, fingers combing through the wiry hair of his unkempt beard. “How could I ever forget you, Ragnar Loðbrók?” You query, turning back to join the Saxons at their camp —unwilling to turn your husband into an oathbreaker.
[ Vikings taglist: @elizabethroestone @naaladareia @gossamarnie @n0sferatus @alicedopey @charming-merlin @ahotmesswithprivilege @certifiedlittleshit @pats-talking @gearhead66 @mrsragnarlodbrok @xxdearlybeloved @gxorg (for Ragnar) ] if you want to be added to my Vikings (Harald, Halfdan, and Ragnar) taglist, just let me know! if your name is italicized, tumblr would not let me tag you.
The Viking’s Princess - A Ragnar Lothbrok/Reader One Shot Story.
Word count - 3,006
Warnings - Virgin!Reader, 18+ for the smut, obvs, because it’s me who wrote it and we all know that’s the name of my game!
If you enjoyed it, I’d love for you to comment/reblog and let me know! <3
Whenever he is there, within the royal villa, you are almost beside yourself with longing. He, Ragnar Lothbrok, is simply the most exquisite man you have ever beheld. He has somewhat of a tumultuous alliance with your father, King Ecbert, one which seems to shatter or forge stronger at any moment. Right now, it is forged, Ragnar and his men staying upon royal land as your father’s guests.
They eat at his table, hunt upon his land, but are not, under strict forbidding, to lay a hand upon you, his precious daughter. The men comply, all except for the one who leads them, of course. Whenever Ecbert isn’t watching, Ragnar’s eyes roam all over you. You are yet to even utter a word to one another, yet the connection between you is powerful.
Desire. It is a force that should never, not even for the briefest of moments, be taken lightly.
Equally, it should never be underestimated, the lengths one shall go to in order to sate what pure, unfiltered desire stirs. Especially if that someone is Ragnar Lothbrok.
You’re quietly sitting doing needlepoint under the watchful eye of your governess when something attracts your attention from outside the room. Looking up, you see nothing and no one there to begin with, just about to continue looking back at the fabric in your lap when the Viking whom you desire reveals himself discreetly, making a motion with his hand that he wishes for you to follow him.
Excusing yourself, you leave, gathering your dress and exiting to see him rounding a corner at the other end of the corridor. You take each step with excitement, partially the thrill of being sought out by the object of your fantasies and part from the fact you know your father would be furious to discover you fraternising with him.
Turning, you find him waiting for you, leaning against the opposite wall as you come to a stop in front of a chest of drawers with heavy brass ornaments sat atop it. Neither of you speak to begin with, both standing there studying one another with what begins as approval, slowly boiling up to something not quite so innocent.
Someone once told you that the northmen smelled pungent, not particularly fond of bathing, but as Ragnar begins to move closer, all you can detect is traces of horse, leather and fresh water. He smells rich and earthy, like the moss which grows along the riverbanks and something else you cannot place. Maybe he carries the scent of his faraway homeland with him, perhaps not, but whatever it is, the scent of him is nothing short of intoxicating.
“Can I help you?”
“I think the bigger question here is whether I can help you or not.”
“Oh,” you say, smiling ruefully, not shy of him at all. Your father has raised you to greet nobles and those of high standing with confidence and grace since you were young. Your conviction shall not falter now. Pressing your palms against the dark oak chest of drawers behind you, you hoist yourself to sit atop them, still smiling at the Viking before you. “And what do I require assistance with, Ragnar?”
“All that your father has forbade me from. But he knows, princess. He knows that I shall have my way. Because you want me to, don’t you? A woman’s desire is perhaps the greatest force upon earth, even within a young woman, such as yourself. Few truly ever realise this.”
“And what about you?”
He bites his lower lip, letting the flesh slide out from between surprisingly white teeth before delivering his slightly cryptic answer. “I want what I want.”
“Are you in the habit of simply taking what you want, Ragnar?” He tilts his head slightly at your question, hands reaching, gently resting to your thighs as he continues to stare, magmatic blue eyes boring into you. You never have, nor ever will, see blue as azure as that of his irises.
It is as if your insides are melting, the silence starting to make you feel uncomfortable as the large Viking continues to stare unblinkingly at you, your attention held so fast you scarcely notice him pushing your knees apart, rough hands hooking behind them, pulling you closer to the edge of the chest. He’s now so close that you can feel each short, steady breath flutter your cheek, your heart escalating rapidly, every little hair over your body standing on end. The effect he has upon you is more potent than you could ever imagine.
“Sometimes,” he begins, his hand moving to stroke your silky hair. “Or I bargain for them.”
“And what would you have to offer me?”
His lips curl into a grin, eyes flitting away from you as he looks himself up and down, raising his eyebrows suggestively, his smile widening. “I think you know exactly what I have to offer, princess.” Your dry mouth begins to salivate at imagining everything he has insinuated is on offer to you, how his body looks beneath the mud flecked leather and especially, what it is like to behold a cock, since you never have before. It causes your womanhood to ache at just the thought.
He has stirred it, your first longings of sexual want, and for a man, a northman, a Viking, no less. His potent, rugged masculinity is unlike anything you have ever experienced, and you want it unleashed upon you, so you may be swept up in him, transported into realms you are yet to experience, but likely, with him, would never wish to return from.
You want him, but just as you are about to give him the permission you sense he seeks to claim you, footsteps become audible down at the other end of the corridor. Fearing your father’s wrath, you slide down from the chest, the drawers clattering slightly as your feet hit the floor and you put the necessary distance between yourself and Ragnar.
“Some other time, Y/N.”
Hearing your name upon his lips, those words leave you burning, feeling his stare at your back as you rush away, your heart beating so quickly you fear it might crack a rib. You think of him, long for him, dream of him all day, all alone in your quarters, wishing there was some way you could go and seek him out. Little do you know, but he will be the one to seek you.
Later that evening as you bathe, the bath house guarded by one of your father’s gargantuan guards, you soak in the hot water, steam rising and swirling into the perfumed air, rose petals and lavender burning in the censer hanging from the wall, as you always require while taking a bath.
The room is littered with candles, the doorway shrouded in darkness, but not so dark that you cannot make out the shape of Ragnar as he appears through the gloom, closing the heavy door behind him. You want to ask how on earth he managed such a feat, to secretly enter the villa in the first place, more so, sneak past a guard right there at the door, yet you are transfixed entirely on the display that present itself; the handsome Viking beginning to undress.
The cream, woollen tunic he wears is shed first, your eyes feasting upon him. “Do you like what you see, princess?” The way you lick your lips and smile with delight is all the answer he needs, Ragnar chuckling quietly at your appreciation before he proceeds to remove everything else.
Oh, he’s a sight. Not one ounce of anything less than chiselled muscles, a generous smattering of blonde hair flecking his chest and ridged abdominals, and heavens, that cock. So, that is what a phallus looks like, then. You feel your stomach roll over pleasantly, if not with a tinge of nervousness, to think that it will be inside you before the night is out.
You feel denied when he steps into the water, taking a bar of soap and making a show of lathering the body which has you so transfixed, rather than immediately making his way to you. How you keen to touch him, to feel him against you, but at the other side is where you steadfastly remain. The anticipation bubbles exponentially, watching as he rinses, ducking beneath the water. Your heart leaps in your chest as you see him moving closer to you from the depths, his locked hair breaking the surface, the rest of him emerging right in front of you.
He may have just washed, the usually earthy smelling Viking lathered and fresh, but that scent on him, the one you couldn’t quite place still remains.
“I do not understand how you got in here without being noticed. The guard...you didn’t, did you?”
He silences you with a thick thumb against your soft lips, shaking his head at your insinuation. “No, but I did render him useless. There is a flower which grows upon your lands, one when added to a drink sends those who imbibe it to sleep.”
“And my handmaidens?” He closes his eyes, cocks his head to the side and snores loudly, prompting your little chuckles. “It is just you and I, princess.” He nears you, hands reaching for your arms, your heart by now thundering so loudly, you are sure he can hear it.
“Yes, it would appear so, Ragnar.”
“I like that, the way my name sounds upon your lips.”
“What else would you like upon my lips?” The way he looks at you, you know he appreciates your tease.
“Little vixen,” he mutters, cupping your face as he stares at you with ferocious intensity. “Me. I would like me upon your lips.” So close, your noses touch, his beard tickling you, your hands resting against his thick chest as finally, your mouths meet. It is a much softer kiss than you were expecting to begin with, the swipe of his tongue over your cupids bow a silent ask for greater access, which you duly grant him immediately, mirroring his motions as your tongues push together.
Reaching beneath the water, his hands snake around your upper thighs, gripping and lifting you with ease, seating you on the side of the bath, your face now level with his as your kisses deepen, both consumed by the rampant desire you hold for one another. Parting your thighs with his big hands, he slots himself between them, and it feels good, so good, the bushy thatch of his pubic hair skimming your sex, making you quiver.
His mouth moves exploratively to your neck, the brand-new sensations overpowering and heady, the very feel of him pressing himself against you more sublimely erotic than your naïve little imagination could ever conjure. A man, a huge, rugged man there between your thighs, shifting slightly, the press of his erection hard at your apex.
Your breath hitches, Ragnar’s hand moving between you, skimming your hip before stroking your curls, pulling away from your kiss. His eyes ask the permission you did not expect before he touches you more intimately, your nod all the confirmation he needs. He watches intently, his fingertips teasing your slit before roaming within, stroking at the soft petals of your cunt, smiling when he watches your cheeks flush and your head tip back at that, the first touch you’ve ever experienced.
You feel hot and tingly at your centre, his touch lowering, a single finger teasing at your dewy opening before sliding slowly within. To feel someone touch you on your inside is beyond anything you could imagine, your inner walls quivering around his touch, his finger slowly sliding in and out while flexing back and forth at the knuckle, his mouth upon yours once more, kissing you with greed.
Sparks skitter through you, his middle digit trawling your silky walls so thoroughly, Ragnar adding another finger, your little cry of bliss making a jolt of pure fire run through him, excited beyond measure that he’s the one to deflower such beauty. The exploration of you deepens, his fingers sliding, circling and nudging, opening you, the heel of his palm pressing against your sensitive little bundle, dragging back and forth.
It’s this action that has you breaking apart from his mouth and wailing, Ragnar tipping your body back, his ravenous mouth moving to your chest, licking and sucking your nipples in turn. You keen against him, your body awaked to him by the sheer flow of lust, knowing you need more but in your inexperience, not quite certain what. Ragnar knows, though. He knows exactly what your nubile body craves.
It calls out to him like a siren only he can hear, your need for him, his fingers slipping from within you. Taking his cock, he pushes it against your sodden folds, smearing himself with your aqueous arousal before aligning with your opening and slowly starting to push. You gasp when the head of his hardness pops in, a little dagger of pain as he begins to slowly spread you, a tiny whimper spilling from your mouth as he kisses you wantonly.
“Shhhhh, it shan’t hurt for long. I promise.” He whispers, showing staggering gentleness for such a huge, overpowering Viking. “Give me a few moments, princess, and I shall make you purr.” You don’t doubt that at all, your nails digging into his thick shoulders as you try not to tense, relaxing yourself with a slow exhale as steadily, his thick cock fills you, bottoming out and dragging back once more.
It hurts for a while, but Ragnar is never rough or hurried, his thrusts languid, watching you intently between kisses, gauging your reactions, wanting to see you truly begin to enjoy it, him inside of you.
“Ahhhhhhh!” You exhale sweetly, when the pain subsides and leaves you with nothing but glowing pleasure.
“That’s better. See, look how much you are enjoying it now, me making you a woman.”
He offers his mouth hungrily once more, hands clasped upon your thighs as he keeps your legs spread, his hips rolling against yours gently making the water lap around him as he steers into your centre with a slow, deep rhythm. His mouth glides to your neck, tongue teasing the column of your throat as the languid drag speeds up a little, your soft moans escalating.
His lips graze your slick skin, teeth prickling just a touch as he feels your nails rake down his back, your hands flattening, enjoying the muscular play, the way they undulate beneath your touch. He feels so brawny and big, his cock heavy inside you as he spreads you around him, the air thick with the carnality of the moment, of you being shown a world of pleasure unlike anything you’ve ever experienced.
“Faster. Please, Ragnar,” you sigh, your blue-eyed lover moving to look at you with desire unmatched.
“The princess enjoys my cock,” he asserts, a short rumble of laughter vibrating his chest.
“She does.” Your confirmation is gratified by him arrowing into you with the quickness you sought, control beginning to slip, your moans escalating, the wet slap of his hips against you echoing off the bath house walls as he fights against the tight clutch of the hot velvet that sheathes him, his cock hitting every sweet spot first ignited by his fingers as he groans ceaselessly against your throat.
His arms slide around you like two powerful serpents, grasping you to him, hands running down your back, one hand moving back to your thigh and pushing your wider apart for him as he rails you with voracious need. Your cries reach crescendo, not caring at all if anyone else within earshot is to hear you. All you are focused upon in that moment is how incredible the Viking between your legs feels as he fucks you, and fucks you...and fucks you.
“That’s it, my sweet little dove. Come apart for me.” He pants, a deep, barbarous groan arrowing right to your cunt, the first flickers of the lightning evoked by him, skittering up your spine with all the voracity of a summer storm as you tighten on him, the push, the heat, the thick of him sending you there. You grasp him tightly, his hips stuttering against you as he gasps, moaning something in his native tongue as your flutters milk his release, his jerking cock bathing your trembling walls with hot trails of seed.
His mouth locks to yours, arms tightening as he takes you back with him, crashing into the water, submerged within the silence, his shaft still twitching within you, warmth surrounding you like an aura. When you finally emerge, he stares down at you, smiling, his thumb stroking the corner of your lip.
“Don’t leave just yet,” you blurt, hating that it could have come across as needy when you truly did not mean for it to. “I want you again before you do.” You’re quick to add.
You smile with relief when he begins to grin at you. “Show me the way to your bed chamber then, princess.” Once you’re both out of the bath, dry and dressed, this is exactly what you do.
Summary: There was something Ragnar and his wife loved more than raiding together: fucking in looted lands.
Warnings: unprotected sex, blood, mentions of raiding, mentions of looting, mentions of physical combat, sex on holy ground.
Author’s Note: You guys know that I don’t see grays when I like something. I either don’t like it or like it enough to become obsessed. Like all of my obsessions, this started with looking frantically for smutty fanfics, it then progressed to dreaming erotically of him, and finally to writing smut of him. This is loosely based on the wet dream I had a few weeks ago. I hope you enjoy my new obsession. Feedback warms my heart <3
[ Masterlist ]
[ Ragnar Lothbrok Masterlist ]
The first time Ragnar went raiding was without you. And you were pissed. Raiding was something you loved to do, and though he’d assured you it had nothing to do with your ability, it still pissed you off that he had wanted you to stay home to take care of the kids. You loved being a mother, but that didn’t mean you had stopped being a shield-maiden. But he was right. Though you knew you could trust the women of the community to take care of your children, you didn’t want to leave them behind. And you knew Ragnar didn’t want you to come in case this land didn’t really exist.
It had been weeks since Ragnar left, and your body was already aching for him. You missed his scent, the weight of his body on top of you, the way his muscles would ripple under the soft touch of your fingertips. To say you were addicted to him was an understatement. And Ragnar was as addicted to you as you were to him, maybe even more.
Ragnar bringing that Christian priest came as a surprise to you back then, but now that Ragnar was planning to go raiding again, you saw just how useful he could be. Your eyes lit up when your husband asked you to go with him.
‘I need you there with me, like in the old times,’ he’d said with a smile on his face while he pulled you closer to him by the waist. He brought his face down to your ear: ‘I miss the rush of adrenaline of fucking you in foreign places…like in the old times.’ He ran the tip of his nose along your jaw all the way to your chin, and he placed a chaste, innocent kiss on your lips.
The contrast of his raunchy words to his innocent actions always caught you off guard, and it always sent waves of arousal to your core.
The night before the journey he fucked you nice and slow, peppering kisses all over your face and neck. He’d whisper sweet nothings into your ear, and when you came, he came with you. It was like that with Ragnar. Sweet love making was something he liked too, despite all the raw sexual energy he gave off.
You could feel the surge of excitement running in your veins when you saw land ahead of you. A wide smile spread across your lips; the hunger of raiding danced in your eyes. Ragnar approached you and placed his hand on your waist, bringing you closer to him.
“Do you see that?” His velvety voice resonated in your ear. “This is what I brought you for. I missed that hunger in your eyes, that greed.”
You looked up at him, and the hunger for raiding got mixed with hunger for him. You had missed fucking him in foreign places as well. The adrenaline was intoxicating…and addicting.
You placed your right hand upon his chest and lifted yourself up on your tiptoes so that your mouth was brushing against his. “I hope you’re ready,” you said before placing a brief kiss upon his lips. You jumped out of the boat quickly, leaving him with the taste of your lips on his and with a semi hard-on. He thanked the gods his chainmail coat reached mid-thigh.
It was everything you’d imagined and more. The town was small, but the treasures its temples held were grand. This time the people knew you were all coming, because they welcomed you with arrows and fire. But even though they’d been prepared, it was so easy to knock down the gate and enter the town. The excitement and adrenaline you felt was something you’d missed. You hadn’t truly realized just how much you’d miss them until you felt them coursing through your veins. The electricity surging through your body, from head to toe, kept you going, and you felt more powerful than ever. You felt invincible.
You entered what seemed to be the biggest room in the whole town. Just looking at it from the outside you knew it held great riches inside. The walls of the façade were even adorned with gold and silver, but these were embedded into the stone and to take them out would take great effort and time. And time was exactly what you didn’t have.
The place was empty and large. There was a large window at the back of it, where a small table was. On top of it was a big cross made of gold. The three upper arms had red stones embedded in them. The cross sat in the middle of the table, and in front of it there was a silver cup. Four small silver candle holders were placed evenly on either side of the cross, adorning it. Next to the walls were larger candle holders, all silver. And hanging low from the ceiling, there were golden chandeliers which held yet more silver candle holders.
Your eyes lit up as a wide smile spread across your face at all the riches these people had. You set the fishing net on the floor and began bringing all the silver and gold items you could gather into it. You pranced around the room excitedly; the smile on your face only growing wider. If all these riches were found on this place alone, what other treasures did these people keep?
You drew you sword from its holster on your back when you heard the gates being opened. But you immediately relaxed when you saw your husband entering the room, putting your sword back in place. A mischievous smile appeared on his perfect face upon seeing what you’d been hoarding. He had that look in his eyes, hunger dancing in the blue of his eyes; hunger for you. He was covered in blood, which completed his animalistic look. You felt a shiver run down your spine, and you began to ache for him. The thought of fucking in a place that was considered holy to these people was incredibly arousing to you. And judging by the way Ragnar looked at you, it was to him too.
“Look what I found,” he said and brought a small crown from behind his back. It was a golden crown, with red stones embedded in each peak, and small diamonds adorning the base of it. It wasn’t big enough to fit a man’s head, so you assumed it had been made to fit a woman’s head.
He’d reached you at the altar, where only the cross now stood. He dangled the headpiece in front of your eyes, and he chuckled at the glint dancing in them.
“It’s beautiful,” you said as you took it in your hands. You turned it over in your hands, feeling the weight of it, the smoothness of its surface. You were fascinated by how beautifully crafted it was. Every stone had been put carefully and evenly, and the metal was wonderfully polished.
Ragnar took it gently away from your hands and placed it carefully on top of your head. It sat perfectly, almost as if it had been made specifically for you. “It suits you, queen.” His words carried an underlying promise he wasn’t even aware of. A chill coursed through your body. It felt like fate.
“I’m the Christians’ queen now,” you mocked.
“No,” he said in a low voice while he brushed a strand of bloody hair away from your face. “You’re my queen.” He grabbed your face in both his hands and swooped his face down to kiss you. It took your breath away. Ragnar always managed to do so.
For a moment you were so caught off guard that you remained still, but when one of his hands made its way to the back of your head and nudged you gently into the kiss, you came back to reality. You placed your hands on his chest and glided them down his torso until they reached the hem of his chain mail. You snuck your hands underneath it and found the hem of his trousers. You unfastened his belt quickly, and just when you were about to grab his cock, he spun you around so that you were facing the altar. You placed your hands on the table in front of you and looked back at him over your shoulder. He snuck one hand to the front of your trousers and undid them while the other lifted your tunic up and placed it on your lower back. He pulled your trousers down to the middle of your thighs and he did the same with his own.
The sight that greeted him was wonderful. Your folds were glistening with your arousal. You craved him so badly that your juices reached the inside of your thighs. When you noticed him staring intently at your pussy, you spread your legs as far as your trousers allowed you to and bent over the table, pushing your ass out.
“Ragnar,” you mewled his name, and the needy tone of your voice made his cock twitch.
He grabbed the base of his cock and brushed the tip of it along your slit, covering himself in your slick. You moaned when he lingered on your clit. He applied more pressure on it and started brushing it faster and in tight circles. You bent further down over the table, pushing your ass back against his cock. You placed your forehead on the cold hard surface of the altar and moaned, the crown falling from your head. You were close. You could feel it approaching. You felt a chill running down your spine and your belly contracting, announcing your orgasm. But just when you were about to welcome it, Ragnar stopped.
He leaned forward, his left hand sneaking around your waist. He brought you up until your back was against his chest. He aligned his cock with your entrance using his free hand. His mouth placed chaste kisses on the side of your neck, below your ear, smearing the blood on your skin and on his lips.
“Your pleasure belongs to me,” he whispered in your ear and plunged inside you in one smooth, slow movement. You both let out a moan in unison.
You dropped you head and closed your eyes. Ragnar brought the hand that was across your waist up your torso to your chest, and just when he reached the base of your neck, he used his free hand to pull on your hair, bringing your head back and exposing your throat. You whimpered at the action; the mixture of the pain on your scalp and the pleasure inside your pussy making you smile.
He brushed the tips of his fingers tentatively along the length of your neck up to your chin and lips. He glided the pads of his index and middle fingers across your bottom lip before putting them inside your mouth gently. You wrapped your lips around his digits and suckled gently on them. Your tongue swirled in between them, making him hum in delight. His thrusts were slow and measured, but he’d bottom out every time he pushed in. He’d stay all the way inside for a few seconds and then pull almost all the way out again. He was driving you crazy.
He slid his fingers out of your mouth and wrapped them around your neck. As soon as his fingers applied pressure to the sides of your neck, he picked up his pace. He started pumping hard and fast into you. He pulled harder on your hair, bringing your head further backwards and causing your back to arch even more. One of your hands clamped down on the forearm of the hand around your throat, and the other reached forward in search of something to hold onto. It found the base of the golden cross. And the sight made Ragnar growl in satisfaction.
The filth it carried made him go harder into you. Here you were, not only had you looted Christian lands, but also you’d desecrated their holy temples by fucking in them, by hanging onto their holy cross for dear life while you were being railed into oblivion.
The thought snapped something inside Ragnar. He wanted you to cum and scream his name while still holding onto the cross. It was plain filthy to him, and he fucking loved it. He let go of your hair and, with that characteristic smirk of his spreading across his lips, he licked three of his fingers and brought them down to your clit. You whimpered when he started circling it with the right amount of pressure. The mixture of your slick and his spit worked perfectly as lube.
He kept pushing into you, grunting in your ear, and working wonders on your swollen clit. He felt you tense up, and when your cries increased in pitch, he knew you were on the verge of coming.
“I want to hear you cum,” he whispered in your ear. “I want this Christian god to hear you scream my name while you come undone on my cock.” And that was it.
You cried out his name as your orgasm washed over you. Waves of pure ecstasy coursed through your entire body, and the grip you had on the base of the cross was so tight you swore you could’ve snapped it in half. Your whole body shook and your eyes rolled to the back of your head.
It was the filth of his words, the filth of the actions of both of you. The fact that you were desecrating this place in every way possible. It all added up to bringing you to your release. And it had been the most powerful orgasm you’d had in your life.
Ragnar followed suit right after. The way your cunt clenched around his cock made him spurt ropes of hot thick cum inside of you. The grunts in your ear became moans when he spilled his seed inside, and the tight grip on your neck loosened up. He brought the hand that was on your cunt up around your waist, and the hand on your neck joined it. He wrapped his arms tight around your torso while he rested his forehead on the back of your head. His cock was still pulsing inside you.
“I really missed this,” Ragnar said as he ran the tip of his nose along the back of your head, inhaling the sweet scent of your hair. You chuckled.
“I don’t recall having fucked in a Christian temple before.” It was his time to laugh.
He pulled out of you slowly, causing you both to moan. With his arms still around your waist, he nudged you to turn around in the circle of his arms.
“Well, there’s always a first time.”
You wound your arms around his neck and lifted yourself on your tiptoes till the tip of your nose brushed against his. “As long as it’s not the last.”
He was the one to seal your lips together, in a promise that more raids like this were indeed going to happen.
Summary: Ragnar comes home from a raid, and all he needs is to feel you. All of you.
Warnings: a/b/o dynamics, scenting, fluff, smut (MUST BE 18+ TO READ THIS STORY), knotting, dom/sub dynamic, but very soft here
Word Count: 2139
A/N: So this story was requested a long time ago by a nonnie, and I would like to apologise for taking so long. Thank you so much for requesting this, and although you did request werewolf, I changed it to a/b/o, hope that’s alright with you! Anyway, hope a little dom! Ragnar will brighten your day! xx
Full request: Hiya u wunderfull writer u 🐾 saw that you'll write for vikings, so perhaps something with dom werewolf Ragnar x reader?
Others Masterlist__ Masterlist
Ragnar’s senses were in override. It’s been almost 7 months since he last saw his Omega; you. He missed you terribly: your smell, your soft touches, little kisses on his jaw and elsewhere, and just the possibility of scenting you every day, all the time.
He thought he was tougher than that, to be honest. You two haven’t been mated for that long, and he was always making fun of the older Alphas, unable to stay away from their mates, thinking they were just little pussies, nothing else.
But suddenly, when it was time to leave for the raid, he felt uneasy about leaving you alone like that. Not only would he miss you, profoundly, but also the possibility that somebody might come in and take you away from him was keeping him up at night. So he only prayed that when he did come back, you’d be safe and sound, waiting for him, happy to see him.
That was another one of his fears, even though he would never admit them to the other raiders. That maybe you realised being with him was not the best thing in the world, and you’d want to reject him for staying away from you for far too long. He tried to push for a sooner arrival, but the whole raiding party was adamant on trying to raid as many villages as possible before coming back to Norway.
And when they all finally did, Ragnar tried to will all the gods to make the seas calmer, the winds stronger and the ships tougher so that they can reach the land as soon as possible. And it was apparent from the palpable excitement on the boat, that Ragnar wasn’t the only one feeling that way. He couldn’t have been. Although there were many unmated Alphas in the crew, some still had their Omegas waiting for them, and being away for so long was taking a toll on everybody.
So when the land could be seen from the ship, they all yelled and pumped their fists in the air, happy to be reunited with their families and friends again.
Upon hitting the land, Ragnar was one fo the first to jump out of the ship and swerving it towards the pole on which they had to secure the boat before he got out of the water to try and follow his nose.
He could smell you were amongst the people on the shore, awaiting their arrival, and so he turned his head, following the sweetest scent in the crowd. Even with eyes blindfolded with leather, he would be able to find you in no time, but the second his eyes saw you, Ragnar’s feet carried him to you.
And your feet did the same, evidently, because he could see you pushing people out of your way, not looking around, just intently staring at Ragnar with a huge smile on your face.
When you finally met in the middle, Ragnar couldn’t help himself but pulled you into a bear hug, enveloping your body with his huge one, emitting all the warmth and happiness, making you feel safe and loved. The moment he let you lift your head, he captured your lips with his, caressing your cheek with his hand while the other was still holding you tightly around your waist.
You eagerly opened your mouth to let him explore it as if it was the first time all over again. Ragnar took his time kissing you, tasting you and letting you taste him, both of you grunting and moaning in each other’s mouths.
Pulling away Ragnar’s eyes immediately fell to the crook of your neck where his mark was, and he smiled brightly when he was it was pink and well, no inflammation of you rejecting the bond with your Alpha present.
He leaned in and scented you heavily, nipping softly at your skin, revelling at the feeling of the whole moment. He felt your hands pushing against his chest, and he raised his brow at you.
“Not here, Alpha. Let’s go home,” you whispered when you stood up on your tiptoes, and he growled approvingly at the sound of it.
He kissed the crown of your head and threw his arm over your shoulders, shielding you from the prying eyes of the people coming to greet the whole party. Ragnar just curtly nodded at some of them, gave some a tight smile, but everybody knew they shouldn’t step into the moment shared between the two of you, they were smarter than that.
When you finally reached your hut, Ragnar pushed you inside a little rougher than you anticipated, and when you looked up to see what was going on, you saw the look on his face and knew exactly where you stood. Ragnar’s pupils were blown, his eyes almost pitch black, staring at you with ferocity and intensity to make your insides quiver.
It was his dom look, and it made the sub in you obey his every command. And from the look on his face, you knew what he wanted without him having to tell you out loud. You shed the fur covering your shoulders and keeping you warm from the harsh wind outside, and bared your neck to him.
It took him two long steps to get to you, gripping your hips in his hands, while his face nuzzled against your skin, seeking your scent and trying to mark you as his. As much as he loved your smell, he loved it even more when it was mixed with his own.
When he was satisfied with your neck, he pushed his face against your bosom, letting his cheeks caress each of your breasts. Feeling that it wasn’t enough, he ripped the upper part of your dress without a care in the world, your breasts falling free, but only for the time being.
Ragnar was quick to catch them, one with his hand, immediately kneading your flesh and pinching your nipple, while he latched onto the other like a hungry babe, sucking and moaning.
Your fingers found their way in Ragnar’s braids, pulling at them just the way he liked so much, and the low growls leaving his lips only spurred you on. You pushed your chest against his body, trying to get as much of it as possible.
When he was satisfied enough, he beckoned you to lie on the bed covered in furs, and you did so immediately after shedding your torn dresses on the ground, laying stark naked, with your legs pushed apart so that Ragnar could see exactly how much you needed him.
Ragnar licked his lips absentmindedly watching your glistening pussy squeeze around nothing, and he suddenly wished he never left for the raid. He could have been enjoying this tight pussy the whole time, but no. Instead, he slashed people’s throats and robbed them. Well, Ragnar thought, the trip wasn’t that bad after all. At least now he knew what it felt like to be away from you.
He didn’t waste any more time and shed his own clothes, throwing them around the room without a care in the world. He then stalked towards you as if you were his prey and he was the big bad wolf. Well, that wasn’t far from the truth.
When he finally reached you, and his hand touched your exposed thigh, you couldn’t contain any longer. You moaned loudly and buckled your hips for his to touch you where you most needed him. Instead of that, he smacked your hips, making your yelp in surprise.
“Somebody forgot who’s in charge here, huh? I guess I’m gonna have to remind you, kitten,” Ragnar whispered with a smirk, his fingers circling dangerously close to your soaking wet hole.
Before you knew it, he was two fingers deep inside you, curling his fingers so that it would hit your most secret place, making you cry out over and over again, as he pumped his fingers inside you, interspersing it with scissoring his fingers to open you up for him. He didn’t even have to ask, and he knew you were faithful to him this whole time, maybe except your own hand, and he knew that if he dived in just like that, he could have hurt you.
You were already a mess, and he didn’t even let you cum yet. But he knew you were close from how much you were squeezing him. And even though he loved to deny your orgasms, he knew this wasn’t the time to do so. You needed him just as much as he needed you.
So he leaned it to bite your earlobe and then he whispered, “cum, little kitten, cum for me,” and that was it for you.
You let your orgasm overtake you, freeing your mind from any fear and worry you might have had before Ragnar’s ship appeared on the horizon. He was here, and he was all yours. This thought probably prolonged the pleasure as you were moaning into his shoulder like a common whore, unable to help yourself.
When you came off of your high, you could see Ragnar’s stormy eyes staring back at you in awe, and before you could voice your question as to why he wore that face, his lips crashed against yours in a heated kiss, conveying all the unspoken truths.
Pulling away, he raised his brow, silently asking you by this gesture if you were ready. Not answering him, you gripped his cock, which was standing proudly against Ragnar’s stomach, and pumped it a few times, using the pre-cum leaking from his head to lube his whole length. Ragnar threw his head back, moaning softly at the feeling of your hand against his burning skin.
He couldn’t wait any longer. He pushed you against the furs once again, kneeing your legs to widen even more before he settled between them. He gave one more lustful look and then he grabbed his dick, swiping up and down your hole, stopping at your clit to put more pressure there and making your buckle your hips again.
He loved seeing you like this, all desperate and whiny, ready to do whatever he asked for. But now wasn’t the time to play games, that would come later. Now he needed to be inside you.
“Present for your Alpha, Omega,” Ragnar hissed through his set jaw, trying so hard not to flip you over, but because you were taking too long for his taste, he did exactly what he wished.
Flipping you over he let you go to your hands and knees before he pushed your head low, making your arch your back against him.
And that was it for him. He couldn’t wait. He took his dick, and with one hard thrust, he was sheeted in you. You both groaned at the feeling, and just for the sake of it, Ragnar bit the mark on your shoulder.
You ground your hips against his, trying to make Ragnar move faster and harder, which he did without losing his breath. He knew it was him who was in charge, but he just couldn’t say no to you right now. Pounding into you like a craved man, smacking your butt in the process. You knew it would be raw and red the next day and that sitting would be an issue, but you didn’t give a damn. All that mattered was Ragnar’s cock hitting the right spot inside you, making your toes curl.
From the twitching inside you, you knew Ragnar was close, and so you did what you knew he liked. You started pushing against him, squeezing your muscles every time he was fully in, and Ragnar’s loud growls let you knew he was, indeed, getting close.
You tried to reach your clit to cum sooner, but Ragnar’s hand smacked your hand from your body.
“Your orgasm is mine, little kitten, you should remember that,” he growled under his breath, snaking his own arm around your waist and putting pressure against your clit, circling and pinching it until your moan turned into high-pitched screams.
It took you two only a few more minutes before you were coming undone in each other’s arms, both of you screaming like wounded animals, Ragnar’s knot inflating and his seed bursting inside you, warming you up, and you could feel trickles of it escaping around his cock and prickling down your thighs.
Ragnar rolled you over on the side, holding you flush against his chest.
“I’m so happy you’re home, Alpha,” you mumbled sleepily, tired from the shenanigans.
Ragnar smiled happily, finally able to relax fully and let his guard down. Because only with you he felt safe, and it didn’t matter he was the Alpha in the relationship, he knew you were his safe place, no matter what.
Summary: Aslaug hires an escort to keep her husband happy. The crazy things we do for love.
A/N: Basically smut. Please note this is a highly romanticized fantasy. While I support women’s rights to do what they want with their bodies, please always put your safety and well being first. Love you all!
You walked through the hotel, trying not to stand out in the ornate lobby. You were sure people had used this place for the same reasons you were here, but you didn’t know what to do. It was your first time, and you were sure your tight black dress and heels told everyone why you were there.
You just hoped no one stopped you. Or did you hope someone did?
Pushing the up button, you cast a shy smile to the man waiting next to you. You felt his eyes on your body, and you tried not to subconsciously pull your dress down. Be confident. That’s what your friend had told you while she hit your hands away as you both looked in the mirror.
She had been an escort for months now, and you couldn’t help but admit you were curious. You trade a few hours for a few thousand dollars, what was the harm in trying it out? She had already paid off most of her loans, and she seemed to be enjoying the people she met. But you knew the chances were that you would be trading more than just your time, and you didn’t know how you felt about that.
“You can always say you’re not interested and leave,” your friend had reassured. “They’ll pay you less, but you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”
Those words played through your head as the elevator rose. Your hands gripped the bar, sliding slightly from the sweat. The elevator stopped, letting the other man off. He turned and gave you a smile, which you tried to return before the elevator doors closed.
Get it together. You took deep breaths, wiping your hands on your dress as you ran through your posture. Head high, back straight, hips square. You shook yourself out, took a deep breath, then slowly let it out as the elevator came to a stop on your floor.
His floor.
It was a new client, but your friend was already booked so she gave him to you. You didn’t really know what to expect, your friend had just told you to be yourself. Whatever that meant. You knocked on the door, taking another steadying breath that did not prepare you for what came next.
A woman answered the door. A tall, beautiful goddess of a woman. And she smiled as if she was expecting you. “Come in, you’re right on time.”
You hesitated. “I’m looking for… Mr. Lothbrok?”
“You’re in the right place, come in dear.” You stepped through the door into a lavish suite. Unsure of what to do, you turned to look at your greeter. “He’s straight through there,” she said, grabbing her coat. “Have a good night.”
“You too,” you said, softly. You took another deep breath before heading in the direction she had indicated. You saw a man with a bald head covered in tattoos reading a book in one of the chairs. You waited for him to sense your presence, but when he flipped the page you cleared your throat. His eyes shot up, taking you in before he slowly closed the book.
“Mr. Lothbrok?”
“Yes,” he said, setting the book on the table and standing to come towards you. “What is your name?” His eyes were some of the most hypnotizing you had ever seen. You told him your name and he smiled, moving to stand in front of you. “What are you doing here?”
You were not prepared for that question. Wasn’t it obvious? He had hired you, hadn’t he? “I… I’m not sure what you mean?”
“Why did you come?”
“My friend was busy, so I…” you trailed off, not sure what to tell this man. His very presence seemed to be making it hard for you to think.
“So you…?” he prompted, taking one of your curls in his hand. Was it getting harder to breathe?
“Came instead,” you finished, barely above a whisper. He smiled at you and you were grateful he couldn’t see you blush at your words.
“Why?” he prompted, going to sit on the chair he was in when you arrived. He motioned for you to take the seat next to him.
“I’m not sure,” you said, sitting and facing him. His eyes were still on you, and you felt encouraged to be honest. “I guess I just wanted to see what would happen.”
You took the drink he offered, answering his prying questions and eventually feeling bold enough to ask your own. He listened to you tell him your frustrations with work, your family. You were surprised at everything you were revealing to him. You were even more surprised by how light you felt talking to him, as if he had solved your problems from just listening to them.
The hours passed and you were both almost done with the bottle. He shared relatively little about himself and you were both frustrated and intrigued. He learned it was your first time doing anything like this and you learned it was his as well. When you could look away from his eyes, you let your eyes roam. You wondered what his hands would feel like on your body, if his arms were as strong as they looked. You imagined your hands tracing the tattoos on his head as it lay between your thighs.
Shit.
You refocused on his eyes and it’s as if he knew what you were thinking. Had they changed color? You wanted to see for yourself. The uncharacteristic boldness seemed to still pump through your veins as you decided to do something about it. Setting your glass on the table, you stood, allowing yourself to get a closer look. You walked towards him, unsure of his expression but not seeing anything that told you to stop.
You were in front of him, lowering your body as you placed your hands on his knees. The blue in his eyes seemed even deeper, drawing you in as you hovered your face inches from his. What did you have to lose? “Kiss me,” you whispered, your eyes moving from his to his lips.
His mouth twitched in a soft smile before he closed the distance, bringing your face to his. It was surprisingly soft, your lips pressing into his. Cautiously, you let your tongue trace his bottom lip before he brought his to meet yours. The kiss was slow and heavy, pulling a moan out of you that you didn’t even know was there.
He pulled away suddenly, your body leaning closer to his, your hands sliding further up his thighs. “What do you want?” he asked suggestively, moving his hands to your waist. In response you put your lips back on his, continuing where he abruptly left off.
His hands tightened on your waist and he pulled you to him, sliding his hands to the back of your thighs to help you on the chair. You moved your hands to his chest as your knees straddled either side of him. Your kisses continued as his hands moved to your hips. Squeezing, he moved his hips against you. Your dress was around your waist at this point, the only thing separating you was your panties his pants.
The friction felt amazing and you found yourself grinding against him, losing yourself when you felt the groan through his chest. You wrapped your arms around his neck and moved your lips to his jaw as your breathing increased, your hips helping you chase your release.
Ragnar’s hands moved up your body, running up your back before grabbing your hair and pulling your head back. You let out a gasp of surprise before his lips found your neck, his tongue slowly making his way to your ear.
“Are you close?” his thick voice whispered in your ear, setting fire to your nerves. You nodded, your eyes shut tight as you ground into him harder. He had grown since you started and you definitely took notice. “Look at me.” You did, barely opening your eyes as you watched Ragnar, the intensity in his eyes making your breath catch in your throat.
He took in your half-lidded eyes, your breasts peeking over your dress, and it was all he could do not to pull you to the floor and take you then and there. He wouldn’t have touched you at all if you hadn’t come over to him, your mouth asking to be kissed. He watched your thoughts all night, but he didn’t want to scare you away. Now here you were, seconds from falling apart on top of him. And your clothes were still on.
You felt as if you had been creeping closer and closer to the edge and finally you were over, collapsing against him as your moans tore through you. Your legs shook softly as your hips still moved slowly against him adding spikes to your release.
The waves calmed and you slowed, taking in your breath and Ragnar’s hands holding you to him. They felt just as good as you thought. You weren’t sure what to expect next. When you felt calm, you sat up, pushing your hair behind your ears. The excitement had waned and the alcohol had set in so all you really wanted to do was sleep.
“Tired?” He still had his hand on your back, gently running his fingers up and down. You nodded. “You can stay here, if you want.” You absolutely did, not feeling quite ready to say good bye. After a beat, you nodded again.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, as per his instructions, and he carried you to the bed. You weren’t certain what his intentions were, and he must have felt you tense up because he reminded you that he didn’t want you to do anything you didn’t want to do.
The bed was soft and you immediately felt yourself drifting off. “Are you glad you came?” Ragnar asked as he prepared to shut the door and return to his book. You smiled at his little joke, gently nodding your head with your eyes closed. You were already looking forward to next time.
