#ubbe fic

[vikingsmasterlist]

The White Rose of Wessex (Ubbe/Alfred/OFC)

Summary: Ascending to the throne on the eve of the Great Heathen Army's arrival does not bode well for Aethelred but he is determined to show his people his ability, his prowess. At his side is his beloved new wife, Aenor who quickly proved her mettle with sage advice and loving words for a new king.

Characters: Aethelred x OFC, Alfred x OFC, Ubbe x OFC

[ritual-unions]

A Curse I Cannot Lift

Part One of Wolf Like Me: Read the rest here

Pairing: Ubbe x OFC

Summary: Eir, daughter to the King of Sweden, worries that her father has promised her hand in marriage, though he denies the claim. Arriving at the shores of Kattegat, Eir sneaks away from her family, running into a stranger she hopes to never see again.

Setting: slightly pre-season 4b, maybe by a few months.

Word Count: >2000

Warnings: none, unless a “meet-cute” is a warning.

Her mother had complained every day since stepping on the boat that the salt soaked into her dress would never come out. Eir had to admit, she too was ready to be on land again, though she does not voice her complaints as loudly as her mother.

The warriors rowing look as though they will gladly trade positions with the Queen of Sweden, whose hands are void of any calluses, and the jewels dripping off her head and neck would fetch enough coin to feed them and their families for three years. The men grimace, and grunt as Eir’s mother whines, thinking instead of the glory and the gold they will obtain when they finally sail to the Mediterranean. 

The first stop will be Kattegat, where Eir’s father, King Anund of Sweden, will begrudgingly pay tribute to the man responsible for the voyage. Eir asks her father if she too can sail to the Mediterranean, only to receive a wide-eyed look of wonder in return. King Anund will take her younger brothers, yes, but no, Eir will stay with her mother, Sif, waiting patiently in Kattegat, until they return. 

Her parents are hiding something from her. Eir knows by the way her mother stares at her longingly as if she will never see her again. As if she will blink her eyes and Eir will disappear. Sif offers each night to brush Eir’s hair, even though she had not done such a thing since Eir was ten years old. 

Anund has lovingly squeezed Eir’s shoulder so frequently that Eir is sure there will be an indentation where his fingers have pressed against her skin. Each evening Anund finds Eir at the bow of the ship, opens his mouth as if to say something wise, stands like a gaping fish and promptly walks away. 

When Eir asks if something is wrong her parents shrug their shoulders, frown, and look off into the distance, the orange glow of the sun blinding their eyes, as if Eir should look for answers there. 

It would be of no surprise to any of her handmaids that Eir slips away the moment the boat docks on the shores of Kattegat. It is possible that they even look the other way when she silently holds herself back before timidly heading down the shoreline. 

The cliffs that stand like silent sentries over the fjord have been calling to Eir since they sailed in, two days earlier. Leaning against the prowl of the ship she had stared up at their glory wondering what it must be like to stand on top of them. 

The hollow in the hillside seems the most obvious route, but as she struggles over the rubble, her fine leather boots slipping against the rugged rocks, the journey becomes almost impossible. 

She turns around in search of a better route, not yet willing to be deterred. There is a game-trail down the way that she eyes but it is a steep climb and in her dress she does not think she has the mobility to make it. She will try anyway, she has to make it to the top. There is something waiting for her there, only waiting to be discovered. 

A man she had not noticed before is at the base of the path she wants to take. He is off his horse, fiddling with the straps of his saddle, a large black dog circling his heels impatiently. Cautiously, she freezes in place. The way he had slid into view without a sound, is unsettling. With no one around to see he can easily attack her. Eir does not have the skill or strength of a shieldmaiden or even a country girl raised to carry bags of wheat twice their size. She is a princess untrained in the art of war, instead she gapes, shifting on her feet unsteadily, unsure what to do next.  

With as much courage as she can muster, she acknowledges him. “Who are you?”  

Silently, the man gazes at her in acute interest, a whisper of a smile on his lips as he takes her in. His dirty blonde hair is wind swept and wild atop his head. His face is clean of dirt but she cannot place his station, much to her annoyance. He could be a local or a warrior traveling to Kattegat to sail with Bjorn Ironside. She does not know, making her even more cautious. 

The black dog, more a wolf, steps in closer, long nose sniffing at the air. Not able to steady her nerves she takes half a step back. The man snaps his fingers twice, causing Eir to jump in surprise and the wolf to sit back on his haunches. The wolf-dog looks at her with the same watchful eyes as the man.  

“Are you the kennel master?” Eir demands. Her gaze travels to the two rabbits hanging off of his shoulder. “The gamekeep?” She asks again, her nerves causing her to ramble.

This makes him laugh, a throaty chuckle that creases the corners of his eyes. A kind smile greets her and she can not help but warm to it. She has never thought of herself as a funny person but she wishes she knew a few jokes just to make him laugh that way again. 

“Do you always demand someone’s profession before their name?” He inquires with a tilt of his head. 

A blush creeps along Eir’s throat. Embarrassed, she looks anywhere but his face, to the horse that stands patiently beside him or the hillside she still desires to climb, even as he tries vainly to find her gaze once more.

“I am Ubbe,” he finally announces, and Eir can no longer ignore him. His voice is soft, there is no hint of haughtiness as if she should know who he is. Most men she meets in her father’s great halls wear their pride heavy on their shoulders and chest, demanding an abundance of attention just for being. This man does not and Eir frowns, not used to such modest demure.  

“I am not the kennel master or the gamekeep.” His mouth holds a humor hidden in the corners as he speaks. “Though my brothers probably think otherwise.” He shrugs his shoulders, as if this is the way of the world. Ubbe laughs under his breath, shaking his head when Eir frowns in discontent. 

“I want to go up there,” Eir says when Ubbe does not offer to explain himself. To deflect his attention she flicks her chin in the direction of the cliffs.  

Ubbe’s face is somber as he follows her gaze, allowing Eir’s disposition to settle away from his searching eyes. “Yes. I can take you,” he says, reaching out for her, fingers slipping around her waist. 

With a gasp of surprise she twists out of his grip. Never in her life has she been grabbed at so rudely. This man is clearly some boy from the country, not trained in the ways to treat a lady of her stature. 

“What are you doing?” She shrieks. 

Again Ubbe laughs at her. “Helping you on my horse. You cannot think to walk.” 

“I don’t ride horses.” Her tongue feels heavy in her mouth. She does not have to explain herself like this back home. Her hands find her hips, eyes narrowing in an attempt to show that her mind will not easily be swayed.

“It is fine if you have never ridden before. Skadi is a good girl.” Ubbe pats the snowy rump of the draft horse and the mare flicks her head in silent agreement, white mane flashing in the sun. 

Eir shakes her head, taking half a step back. 

“Come,” Ubbe goads with a wave of his hand. Eir chews her lip in apprehension. She should not trust this man but a wild sense of curiosity bubbles in her belly, pushing her forward. She is desperate to go to the top, something is calling her there. 

“Here, I will show you.” Ubbe is on the horse in one fluid twist, holding out his hand in offering when he has settled. His eyes spark with mischief. Curious, Eir takes another step towards Ubbe and his horse. She has never been one to dabble in the unknown but here she is scrambling on top of a horse she does not know with a man she has just met. Her mother would faint at the sight of her. 

Gripping onto the leather of the saddle, Eir mumbles, “this is wrong.” 

Cool breath tickles her ear. “That is what makes it fun.” He is laughing at her again but she does not get the chance to glare at him over her shoulder. He spurs the horse forward, startling Eir, and she has to bite the inside of her cheek to keep herself from letting out a shriek of terror. 

Ubbe is right about not wanting to walk this hillside on foot. Eir can hear the horse’s labored breathing, its first strides quick then she slows as muscles strained to push on. This is why Eir refuses to ride horses. It is not right. To abuse an animal, to force them to carry their weight just to make their lives easier, she wants nothing to do with it. 

She opens her mouth to protest. She would walk the rest of the way. 

“Here,” Ubbe says, halting the horse, his fingers on her waist nudging her down. With shaking arms she slides to the ground. 

Letting out a sigh of relief, she remembers to pat the horse’s neck in thanks, whispering promises of a treat. It will not be enough for her conscience but the sight before her pulls her away from her guilt. 

From here she can see the entire world. The fjord long and endless, Kattegat small and bustling, plumes of smoke rising from tiny houses, and up the valley, to the mountains and beyond. At the mouth of the fjord boats sailed in, tiny dots on the vast landscape. They come from all over, places Eir had never been and would probably never go. 

“I think my father means to marry me off,” Eir blurts, words tumbling out of her mouth without consent. 

Ubbe is relaxed on a large lichen covered boulder, his wolf perched on a patch of snow next to him. They share a mirrored thoughtful look but neither offer an opinion on the matter. She rolls her eyes. She should not expect so much from a kennel master. It is better this way. She does not need his opinion. She knows what she really wants. 

“I want to scream.” 

“Scream.” Ubbe’s subtle nod of permission allows Eir to open her lungs. She screams, loud and hard, until her throat hurts and her ears ring, until she feels right again. 

“Better,” she says with a heavy sigh, brushing over her skirts, straightening out the wrinkles and her temporary embarrassment. She would never see this man again. It does not matter how he views her. “You can take me back now.” 

This time Ubbe does not laugh at her, instead he helps her on his horse and silently they make their way back to the shore. 

Her mother, Sif, is there, frantically calling her name, as she paces the sandy shoreline. Ubbe's steady hands help Eir off the horse, making sure she has her feet under her before he steps away. Mirth is once again lit in his eyes as he watches Sif, rushing toward her. 

Eir wants to say something, thank him for his help or scold him for laughing at her mother’s nature but she does not get the opportunity, instead Sif’s crushing hug leaves Eir swaying on her feet. 

“I was only gone a moment,” Eir mumbles against her mother’s shoulder. 

“Don’t do that!” Sif replies, already turning back down the shore, towards town where her maids and a few king’s guards wait patiently for their queen’s return. Eir’s elbow is clenched tightly in Sif’s hand as her mother directs Eir back to the bustle of town. With one last fleeting glance over her shoulder, Eir plans to call out her thanks to Ubbe but she finds that his eyes are still full of mirth. He is laughing at her, at her mother. His mouth is alive with humor though he tries vainly to damper it with a slip of his tongue against his lips. Eir scowls, happy that she will never have to see Ubbe again. 

+++

Entire Vikings Masterlist or Wolf Like Me series masterlist

[imaginesmai]

Once upon a fairy tale - Ubbe Ragnarson (3)

I wanna say I’m sorry in advance and that next chapter will be up tomorrow, so pls don’t attack me  Other parts: Once Upon A Fairy Tale Masterlist  

Plot: Aslaug tries to push you closer to Ubbe, leaving you in a vulnerable situation. When faced with a group of soldiers, they don't hesitate to make their opinion about you crystal clear.

Warnings: men being rough with reader, unwanted sexual attention, harassment

You woke up alone in the room, but there was evidence of another’s person presence not too long ago. There were robes on the ground, and a pair of man’s undergarments hanging from the bottom corner of the bed. Besides, it smelt like Ubbe.

When last night you told him to sleep on the ground, you half expected him to drag your out of bed by your foot, but you were too tired to care. Yet, as minutes passed by, you only heard him change clothes and pile covers on the ground. You had been almost lulled back to sleep when he had taken the pillow from under your head.

It could only go so well.

That morning, you changed clothes quickly, not wanting to find any unexpected visitors, and let the room to be made by a servant. It was sunny and warm enough to leave your coat inside, and to choose a light dress that would let the sun bathe your skin. Following a tradition you had created many years ago, you took the hall that led to the gardens and stared at the colorful flowers.

Spending a whole summer in a foreign country was incredible boring for a kid, and when you didn’t succeed in making friends, you had to look for other sources of entertainment. Ubbe and his brothers didn’t let you participate in their games; probably, because you won each one of them without playing fool. The only kid who made an effort to befriend you was Sigurd, but his interests didn’t align with you.

There weren’t many pleasant memories in the castle, but the gardens told a different story. Hvitserk was allergic to many of the flowers that grew inside, so the Lothbrok’s brothers didn’t go there often. It was silent and peaceful, and apart from an occasional interruption, you found yourself enjoying the calm. On the other side of the garden, you could hear the castle coming alive, probably from the courtyard.

Back home, you didn’t have flowers, not as pretty as in that castle. Watering them and watching them grow was your main activity during those months.

“Those are primroses” a woman’s voice said behind you, while you knelt in front of yellow flowers. “Had them brough from the woods outside the castle. And they’ve grown just fine”

“I can see that, my queen” you answered to Aslaug, not moving from your position. “They’re beautiful”

“Indeed” she agreed. “They’ve grown just fine”

Her feet moved forward and soon you were covered by her shadow. Looking up, you met her icy eyes and cold smile.

If you had to define Ubbe’s mother with a word, it would be distant. While her son was all feelings and impulses, she was always calm and passive. You had long ago discarded the idea of an indifferent queen – everything that happened in that castle, she knew where, when and why. Anyone could be fooled by her attitude, but you knew that every word and gesture was intentional and had a purpose.

Slowly, you rose up and brushed the dirt from your dress, although there was none.

“Do your new chambers meet your needs, my dear?”

“They do. Although I’m afraid I don’t think prince Ubbe share the feeling”

“He will, eventually. Give him time” she tilted her head in what pretended to be an innocent way, but that made her look like a snake staring at her prey. “Any man can get used to it”

You smiled without your teeth, because you had no doubt there were many others empty rooms in the castle. Only that she didn’t want you to be anywhere else, and you could think of a few reasons why.

Last year, you heard some of the servants talk about Ubbe, in a way you had never heard or thought about. You had had your own adventures at home, with a vendor from the market and with the stables’ boy in your castle. But those words got stuck in your brain, and for a few days, it was the only thing you thought about.

“It’s just, he’s gotten so big. And tall. And that face… He looks just like his father but more handsome, and he isn’t married yet. I would kill to feel what he hides between those elegant clothes” a servant laughed, as if it was a secret.

“I know. I can’t wait until he comes back. Heard he has let some girls into his room. I will gladly volunteer next time”

Everyone who had eyes could see Ubbe’s resemblance to his father, a strong, ferocious and handsome king. While you weren’t very fond of him, you had eyes, and could see too. Aslaug wasn’t any different.

She was getting impatient, and every year that went by, was another chance of a bastard appearing in the hands on a common girl and asking for rights.

“People will talk, but you don’t have to worry, Y/N” Aslaug assured. With a look, she started walking and you followed her, with your hands laced and your eyes on the ground. “Maybe it’s not common to share chambers before the weeding. You’ve been engaged long enough to skip that rule, don’t you think so?”

“I... don’t know, my queen. I can’t say what others might think of the situation, only that neither prince Ubbe nor I like it very much” you tried.

“You’ll get used to it too, don’t worry. After all, what better place to stay than in your husband’s bed? Isn’t that where a good wife belongs?”

You knew better than to talk back, so you kept quiet. The flowers you intended to take care of moved past you as you walked by her side, servants and soldiers bowing. Every year, she took upon herself to remind you that time was running out. Every year, she ambushed you sooner or later and tested the waters.

Sharing a room was nothing but accidental.

She couldn’t care less about his son’s reputation or about your dignity. The only thing she cared about was other’s opinion, and what they might say. Because they would talk, about you and Ubbe, and if someone was bold enough to start the rumor of you two bedding, the wedding she wanted would come up way sooner.

Birds chirped around you as you listened to her list the good qualities of a wife. You might not have had a mother, but your father had taught you enough and assured you other people would when he couldn’t. You knew what was expected from you, how you had to behave in and out the bedroom. Hating your fate didn’t make you ignorant, so you kept your head down and listened.

After a long and torturous walk through the gardens, you found the exit to the courtyard, where the king’s sons were training. There were soldiers and majors fighting against each other, laughing and tossing friendly punches.

From the language they were using and the lack of women, you guessed that was a place you weren’t supposed to be. There were shirtless men sweating and showing off his muscles, in a relaxed atmosphere that wouldn’t suggest the princes were between them.

Sigurd and Hvitserk were fighting against each other, with training swords and wooden shields. The loud noises didn’t alert anyone from the presence of the two visitors, and they kept going. Your eyes stopped when you found Ubbe, not too far away in a hand combat with a man twice his size.

He was shirtless too, new tattoos and scars decorating his body. The previous day, you hadn’t really noticed the change from the boy to a man, but now you did. He moved effortlessly around his opponent, dodging hits and throwing punches.

As you stared at the muscles of his back tense and move, you felt enchanted. You weren’t sure you blinked until the prince finally got a hold of the man’s forearm and threw him to the ground. When Ubbe rose victorious and showed his brothers a teethed smile, you forced yourself to look away, wondering how could a face change so much in a year.

Only then, you noticed Aslaug looking at you, with a satisfied smirk on her lips.

“Thought they would have finished by now. How silly of me” she excused herself. Instead of turning around, she gathered her skirts and stepped down the first stair. “Come on, dear, let’s say hi. It would be rude not to do so”

“My queen, I’d rather – “

“Now”

She didn’t wait for you, just kept walking down, knowing you would follow. Queen Aslaug had earned herself the respect and fear from the castle, day by day, and as soon as the soldiers noticed, one by one fell to their knee.

They didn’t look at you, didn’t rise up when you passed them or acknowledge their training partners. In a wave motion, they bowed to their queen and pressed a fist to their sweaty chest. You moved behind Aslaug in silence, staring at their faces and bodies. Maybe it was all part of her plan, but it didn’t mean you couldn’t enjoy it.

When you turned thirteen and your father caught you talking with the son of the cooker, he decided you would continue your training and outside activities far from any men. Excluding blurry memories of soldiers fighting with your father when you were younger, you had never seen so many men at their knees.

Thoughts that surely couldn’t belong to you crossed your mind, and you looked forward, ashamed and with your cheeks red.

A few feet away from you, Ubbe’s blue eyes met yours, his eyebrows furrowed. He looked between the kneeling soldiers and your cheeks, twisting his mouth.

“Hvitserk, Sigurd” Aslaug greeted them, taking a good look at Ubbe’s face. “Ubbe”

“Mother” the younger one replied, staring at the both of you with a small smile. “Princess Y/N, lovely to see you again”

“What are you doing here?”

Ubbe’s voice was rough, no trace of the bright smile you had seen moments ago. Soldiers were starting to rise, still in silence, and everyone stared while Ubbe and his mother stared at each other. They were fighting some type of mental battle no one else was aware of.

Awkwardly, you waited by her side until she finally clapped her hands and looked at the crowd, ignoring her son’s words.

“Don’t stop on our account, please. Continue your work. Let princess Y/N see how strong and brave her soldiers are going to be soon” she extended her arms towards them, although no one moved. “Keep going”

Slowly, the sound of swords and shields came back, and Aslaug turned back to her sons.

You could feel the stares of every man in the courtyard in the back of your neck, and it occurred to you, you weren’t wearing appropriate clothes. As an unmarried woman, you were supposed to be elegant, discreet, hidden. Most of the dresses you had brough were long sleeved and with high necks, covering every inch of your body. That’s how everyone in Mercia had seen you until that moment.

But it was hot and you were supposed to be in the gardens, so you had chosen a pale, blue dress with a low neckline that showed your shoulders, and sleeves that only covered until your elbow. And you hadn’t touched your hair, leaving it hanging from your shoulders.

Now aware of the situation, you crossed your arms over your chest and looked at Aslaug, who seemed awfully pleased with herself.

You didn’t think for a moment she actually forgot about the training.

“What are you doing here?” Ubbe asked again, staring at her mother. “It’s training day. You know it. And you shouldn’t be here, neither should she”

Disgust dripped from the last word, and he didn’t even meet your eyes.

“But she’s your future wife, you should share every part of your routine with her” she fired back, not minding Hvitserk’s stifled snort. “I didn’t see you this morning at breakfast, were you in a hurry?”

“I was. I have been training all day. Here. Where you shouldn’t – “

“Don’t tell me where I can or can’t be, Ubbe. Enough”

“Mother, we were about to end” Sigurd stepped forward. “Why don’t you wait for us in the castle?”

“I have business to attend” she smiled again, her snake eyes looking between Ubbe and you. “But you should escort princess Y/N. I think she was trying to take care of some flowers”

Without saying another word, Aslaug walked the other way. Soldiers moved so that she could pass, and when she did, they went back to their previous fight. She walked with a determination she hadn’t had in the gardens, and even if you had had time, you wouldn’t had been able to follow her. Not looking once over her shoulder, she disappeared.

And then, you were alone with the three princes in a yard full of loud soldiers who resumed their previous behavior.

All the respect they showed earlier, the quietness that followed your path, was because of Aslaug. You were just the foreign princess of a smaller kingdom, with no authority or importance in their training practice. You guessed that they would have had more consideration for any other woman from Mercia, but your value was of a servant.

A person without opinion or saying, that didn’t need to be taken into account.

When a soldier passed by your side and spit on the ground, only inches away from your shoe, you decided it was enough.

“If you’ll excuse me” you said, already starting your way towards the stairs. It wouldn’t be easy and you would probably have to shove some soldiers, but there wasn’t any other solution.

“Where are you going?” Ubbe asked, coming forward to.

“To my chambers? To yours. Anywhere I don’t have to see this”

“You can come to mine”

You found yourself face to chest to a man with blonde, short hair, and a missing eye. Only his shoulders were the length of your whole arm. His sweaty face stared down at with you side smile, earning the laughs of some of his partners.

It wasn’t anything new to you.

Maybe, during the first three years, people were intimidated by a foreign country visiting his lands. Maybe, they were actually happy at the thought of his prince getting married soon. But it all vanished quickly and you had endured your fair share of comments and observations from Mercia’s people. And you weren’t amused anymore.

Ubbe was, who stopped behind you.

Those people were not willing to risk his head, so they always talked when no one but you could hear it. The servants whispered not so low when they prepared your bath, the nobles sat close to you and commented the empty seat by your sides, and the soldiers only talked when the halls were empty.

“Get out of my way” you scoffed, easily dodging his body and moving forward.

There was a faint commotion behind you and soon Ubbe was back in his place, his breath almost hitting the back of your neck. The fact that his very naked chest was a touch away was making you nervous, and you tried to walk faster.

Soon, you lost the small clearing the princes were training in and were fully into the courtyard, surrounded by bodies.

Not even ten steps into the crowd, Ubbe grabbed your elbow.

“Are you insane? Are you actually insane?” he all but screamed to you. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Why do you ask so many questions? The only thing wrong here is your mother, who should know by now better”

“You should too! What was that back there?”

“Stop asking questions!”

You pushed him away and turned around, wiling your feet to walk faster. Not because you were actually annoyed by his questions, but because having him so close, made you stutter. The feeling of his hot chest against your fingers when you pushed him away, tempted you to keep your hands there.

Thankfully, you were smaller than him, and could outrun him while he tried to chase you.

Some soldiers thought it would be funny to try and stop you, going so far as stepping into your skirts and grabbing your shoulder and hair. They laughed and made comments that you shouldn’t had to hear.

To them, it was chasing the rabbit that was escaping from his prince. To you, it wasn’t so fun.

One of the soldiers stepped on your skirt and the cloth tore, achieving a bunch of hurrahs from the rest of his friends. Stopping to see how bad the damage was, you saw Ubbe pushing through the soldiers farther than before, something murderous on his face. He looked at your dress and moved faster, going as far as throwing a man into his partner.

You turned around to keep moving, now your eyes warm with tears. One thing was the playful banter of children, or even the not-so-playful pranks with Ubbe. But it wasn’t a joke anymore, you felt the men’s intention clear and loud. Humiliation and frustration boiled up in your body until you felt your chest tightening up. You willed yourself to save the tears for later, when you would be finally alone. So you tried to move.

Before you could do so, someone grabbed your hair and pulled harder than before, making your yelp in pain. You were thrown back, and by mere luck, you hit a man’s chest instead of the ground.

Suddenly, a pair of rough hands were on you, while your captor’s arms held you still.

“Come on, don’t be shy! Show us what more you have there!” someone roared, attempting to see through the slip of your dress. He managed to lift one side and grip your left calf.

“I’ll take the other side!”

He didn’t, because when the first man tried to move higher, still holding your left leg against him, was met with your foot on his face. The kick launched him back and made you stumble into other arms. Again, they tried to move lift your dress, now from behind. No matter how much you moved or kicked, your voice stuck in your throat.

By that time, there were tears running down your cheeks, and it was clear it wasn’t just a game between the soldiers. Some of them had stepped aside, looking almost troubled. But no one said anything.

It wasn’t like fighting with the princes, or falling into a prank. It felt like an assault to your dignity, even if they tried to make it look like a joke.

The first man quickly recovered and looked at you while covering his mouth. In his other hand, there was a piece of tooth that you had broken.

There was no longer humor on his eyes, not even the lustful glare he was trying to hide before. When he charged towards you, some of his friends tried to stop him, but it wasn’t enough. He moved with his whole-body force towards you, and since other soldiers were still holding you, you couldn’t do anything but close your eyes and try to cower away.

Between the shouts and laughs, you distinguished a familiar voice, and then heard a body falling to the ground.

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@66vikings

[imaginesmai]

Once upon a fairy tale - Ubbe Ragnarson (1)

First part is here! I have almost finished the story, so expect one part per day BECAUSE I NEED TO SHARE IT.

Other parts: Once Upon A Fairy Tale Masterlist

Plot: just like any other summer, you have to leave your country. Just like any other summer, Ubbe has to open his to your annoying presence.

Warnings: none, maybe mentions of sex and nakedness.

-

“I think I might be sick”

“You aren’t”

“Maybe I’ve got the chicken pox. Have you heard about it? At least half of – “

“You haven’t”

“Storms seasons have barely finished. Would it be safe for the last remain of our dynasty to take that risk?”

“It is”

“Father, I don’t think – “

“We have the same argument every year, darling” your father sighed, finally looking up from the mountain of papers on his desk. “You’ve already faked the chicken pox twice, you got food poisoning on purpose last year and the storm season finished two moons ago. So, unless the kingdom is about to crumble in the next hours, we’re leaving”

“It might” you muttered, looking angrily at the hem of your dress. “It might”

You knew it was pointless to argue with him, but each time, you tried. The chicken pox wasn’t actually an original idea, but Ubbe’s, who tried a year before you. And no one had any proof of the princess sneaking into the kitchens in the middle of the night to drink expired milk. You made sure of that.

None of them had worked. For the past sixteen years, princess Y/N Ealhmunding have spent the summer months in the lovely company of Ubbe Ragnarson and his brothers. It didn’t matter in which castle they decided to try – you hadn’t enjoyed a summer since you both were kids

The first year you actually wanted to try and make a new friend, because you rarely played with children your age. But Ubbe decided you making him look like a fool in front of his father was unforgivable, and after dinner he stained your dress with horse poop. Which got your in problems with your father and maid.

After multiple pranks, he went back to his castle and you thought it was over. Only for next year to go on a trip to his castle, in Mercia. You didn’t like Ubbe nor his brothers, and they didn’t like you. That summer, you went back home with a broken wrist and Ubbe had his nose broken for the first time.

It did not get better. If anything, both of you got smarter and more creative.

“Y/N” Ecbert called, dragging his daughter out of your torturous daydream. “Darling, look at me. You cannot fight me forever”

You didn’t look at him, and after a few moments, the sound of a chair scrapping the carpet filled the room. As he came closer, the anger faded away.

As long as you could remember, it had always been your father and you. Your mother died when you were a child, in some type of retaliation from another kingdom. There was a dark past to that land that not many people talked about, but that you knew. Your mother was assassinated and you were saved by accident. A servant who was in the castle managed to run away with a baby while the enemy took the castle and slaughtered everyone they found in their way.

And by the time they killed the queen and realized there was supposed to be a baby with your, princess Y/N was long gone.

Since then, it had been your father and you against the world. He let his daughter train with a wood sword while he practiced, and draw with ink on old papers while he attended to councils. Everyone in the castle knew and adored the young princess, with your bouncy locks and rosy cheeks. And still, they were happy knowing it wouldn’t be like that forever.

“He’s a good man. He’s responsible, caring, and loves his family” he said for what felt like a thousand time. “And you’ve known him since you were a child. He’s no stranger. One day – “

“I’ll have to marry a person I don’t love, not even like, and become what it is expected for me to be. Which is a quiet wife, ready to carry his children and look pretty while doing nothing” you cut him off, feeling more sad than angry. “I don’t want that, father. I don’t like him. We’ve tried getting along and we don’t. So maybe it’s time to move on”

“It’s not that simple, and you know it” Ecbert put a comforting hand on your shoulder and gave you a small smile. “He needs a wife. You need a husband. It could be worse”

“Sure, he could always break my leg after throwing me from the top of a ladder, almost drown me or make me drink coffee with salt. Oh, but he already did that.”

“Children do that, right? Do I have to remind you when you locked him in the barn and he wet himself?”

You thought about that summer and had to stop a smile. After another argument because something you couldn’t remember anymore, Ubbe had broken one of your dolls. One of your favorite dolls. And that night, when he came back from riding with his brothers, you decided to pay him back by locking him in the barn. Only that you forgot it was supposed to be for just a few hours and ended up falling asleep. The next morning, the ostler found him curled in his own pee after crying himself exhausted.

You weren’t proud of that moment, but it wasn’t by far the worst thing either of you had done. Cutting hair, giving rashes or breaking bones were only a small part of the long list of pranks you had performed over the years.

“It was a pretty good one”

“Yeah. For a child, Y/N” he snorted, and you finally met his kind eyes. “I’m getting old, and you – “

“Don’t say it” the princess whined, not liking that conversation.

“I have to” his eyes lost a bit of light and you were highly aware of the wrinkles around his eyes and mouth, the whiteness of his hair and beard. “I don’t have any other children. Your mother gave me one and I couldn’t ask for anyone better. I couldn’t protect your like I should have, my darling. So I have to protect you, for when I’m gone. Other kingdoms have already started poking at the borders. Unless I assure the kingdom and your safety soon, they’ll start moving”

It was a reality everyone in the kingdom were well aware of. Great king Ecbert was no longer the man who conquered the kingdom of Wessex and brought the best out of it. Who built farms and houses for everyone and made its name known across kingdoms and countries. Now, he was a man who had a noticeable limp, who took medicine before going to sleep and forgot things every now and then.

And according to laws he couldn’t change, a princess like you couldn’t rule by your own. Not unless you were married to a man powerful enough to rule both his and your kingdom, because you were a woman, and women were supposed to just look pretty and carry children.

“Besides” he added, getting up with a soft creak from his left knee. “You didn’t see him last year. Maybe he has changed”

“For worse, probably”

Last year, Mercia entered in war with Northumbria. When the boats of Wessex appeared in the Ragnarsons’ castle, they found it almost empty. Aslaug had seen all of her sons leave to fight, dressed in shiny armors. Ragnar Lothbrok led an army against the enemies’ forces, and you had been there when he came back. Not as a victorious king, but as a tired man who had seen too many wars.

Even though Mercia won, Ubbe and Sigurd stayed in the border to maintain the peace, and you spent the summer with the servants and Aslaug. While she approved the accord between her husband and Ecbert, she didn’t particularly like her soon to be daughter – or anyone that wasn’t her, for that matter. Which turned that last summer into the most boring of your life.

You hoped that summer would be different.

 -

 Ubbe watched the boats come closer to land, the port coming alive as the first rays of sun touched the horizon. It was soon, but not soon enough for the prince to miss the arrival of the guests. If anyone could call them that anymore, as they came every year. It had been a while since he visited Wessex. As the heir and commander of the great army, he couldn’t leave for the summer no more, so they had to come to him.

Which, if it was his choice, wouldn’t happen.

Ubbe Ragnarson had a wide range of scars on his body, all of them worthily obtained in battle. Only that he was a skilled warrior that rarely let a sword near him, and that the biggest battle he had faced so far was against a girl half his size.

“You should head to the port” Hvitserk said behind him, leaning against a tree. There was a naked woman between his legs, whose name they couldn’t remember. “Mother will be furious if she doesn’t find you there”

“She can think whatever she wants” he snapped. “They know just fine their way into the castle. And I’ll see her. Eventually”

“You should have seen her last year. She has tits”

Scoffing, he decided to ignore his brother. It was easy to enjoy life when the crown didn’t rest on him. When the biggest responsibility he had was not to let anyone know if he had a bastard, or at least don’t acknowledge them in public. In the last two years, Ubbe had gone from spoiled prince to commander, heir and almost king.

With a father that was spiraling away, a mother that couldn’t be farther from him, and an enemy that was ready to attack, he wouldn’t think about Y/N’s tits.

What he had thought about, though, was about you. He had always been opposed to the marriage between the two kingdoms, since the moment the young and bratty princess humiliated him in front of his father. Ubbe knew you shared his feelings, that you didn’t want to marry him and would rather throw yourself from that boat.

But he also knew Y/N were in a dangerous age, where other kingdoms showed interest in your hand and the power it held. He knew that you needed the marriage as much as he needed, a strategic union between two kingdoms before one of them fell.

No matter how many times he repeated that, he couldn’t bring himself to ride back to the port and greet the incomers. Pride was a prize he wouldn’t lose on this battle.

“You should bring her back” Ubbe told his brother, guiding his horse back to the road. “Her family might get worried”

“Worried about what? She’s with a prince. she couldn’t be safer” he chuckled, closing his eyes. “I intend to extend the night a few hours more. As soon as you leave”

“If I’m not wrong, this is my hideout. Yours was close to the cliff”

“What’s yours is mine, Ubbe. What’s yours is mine”

Ubbe spurred his horse and left his brother behind, knowing he wouldn’t like what was about to happen. It was the only place from where someone could see the port without being seen, and he had thought it would be empty. He didn’t think about his brother and his night adventures, which could happen anywhere.

The road back to the castle wasn’t long, and for Ubbe, it would have been shorter. He knew those lands as the back of his hand, was a fast rider and knew a bunch of shortcuts. But instead of taking them, he chose the long way.

Bordering cliffs, he let his horse choose the pace, stopping to drink water and sniff a few flowers. He let the wind blow his braid, until his cheeks were red and his hands cold. Since he could remember, riding horses and getting was has been one of his passions. Even more when he discovered it was one of the few things he could beat you to.

He would never admit it, but racing you through the forest and feeling the adrenaline of almost loosing was one of the very few moments he looked forward for. That, or losing knowing he did his best and wasn’t expected to do more.

Being the heir of Ragnarson wasn’t easy, and if he could, he would choose the life of any of his brothers. He knew Hvitserk envied him for the power and position he held above others, yet that came with a price. A price that, day by day, he was starting to understand.

By the time he reached the castle, the sun was high and the cold was giving space to the heats of the summer. During the first month, there wasn’t a big difference in Mercia, as there was snow in the mountains and ice in the forest. The same slow changes that every year started with the arrival of his future wife and the king of Wessex.

“She’s mad”

Ubbe had heard his brother Sigurd entering the barn, so he wasn’t surprised when he appeared behind him.

“You should have seen her face. It was red and she was doing that thing with her mouth when someone asks her to change her plans” Sigurd explained, staring as Ubbe tied up his horse. “Father wasn’t there either. It was a bit sad, actually. Only mother and me. But they didn’t say anything about it, so I guess they’re used by now”

“Where’s father?” for the last year, Ragnar had disappeared a few times, only to come back a week after thinner and dirtier, with no explanation. “Is he with Yidu?”

“Probably. He was complaining last night. You know how he gets” he shrugged. “You should go and say hi. Not because mother says so, just… it was sad. Like they aren’t welcome anymore”

He wanted to say that it was because they weren’t, but he bit his tongue just in time. Of all the brothers, you had grown closer to Sigurd. It wasn’t a friendship, nor a relationship. Yet whenever you could, you stuck to his side and in the past summers he seemed to tolerate your presence.

For his brother, he could do so. He could even pretend it was for his father, who wasn’t at his best moment. Either way, he left his horse to rest and made the way to his chambers, hoping to change into something decent and have a short bath that made him presentable. Not that it mattered when you had seen him covered in mud and forced him to come out of the lake wearing one of your dresses.

He tried to list reasons why he should actually try to accord the marriage proposal that summer, why he should make an effort to stop seeing the child who would put ants on his shoes and start seeing a woman he could grow fond of with the years. He managed to come up with two before reaching his room and opening the door.

When he looked up, he was met with a very naked body that belonged to his future wife. And he instantly added Hvitserk’s reason to the list.

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated

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@66vikings​​

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Fire and Ice - An Ubbe Ragnarsson/Reader One Shot Story.

FINALLY! UBBE SMUT IS HERE!

(GIF originally posted by malenamoonlight)

“When will you return?”

“When the moon is full. Wait naked for me.”  

You promised him that you would, and so come the full moon, you lie in wait, naked beneath bear and wolf pelts, for your Viking to arrive. Outside, the bitter dead of winter swirls its freezing, biting wind through the snow, the moon making the deep drifts sparkle and glitter under its beautiful, blue hue. The fresh blanket covering the ground becomes newly marked by the boots of your love as he trudges through the frozen wastes, smiling when he watches your cabin come into view.  

He’s missed you. He always does, no matter how short or long a period of time he’s gone from you for. This time, it might only have been short, but still, imagining you in there naked as you wait gives him the kind of warmth he’s lacked over the course of his arduous journey.  

You can hear him outside before the door opens, your heart skipping a beat with excitement as your handsome man is revealed, resting his pack and weapons down and shedding a few layers of warm clothes made from the similar bear skins to the ones that cover you. When you crawl from beneath them, revealing the nakedness he requested you wait for him in, he chuckles.  

“Ready and waiting for me. I like this. Let me warm up first and I will be right there with you. You look beautiful.” The sound of his voice within your home. How you’ve longed for it. Him within you, though, is something you have understandably longed for more. A man of Ubbe’s talents will always cause that, though, the dull ache of longing for him.  

“Hurry up.” Is your simple instruction.  

“I shall, I shall. Believe me, you do not want these freezing hands all over you right now, and believe me, they will be all over you.”

“Well, until yours are, I shall have to settle for my own.” Running your fingers in a delicate glide over your flesh, your touch settles at your breasts while you maintain eye contact with him.  

“Temptress.” He chides, his deep voice rich with amusement and arousal. He always likes it when you play with him a little. Remaining by the fire, he begins to shed more layers as he warms up, his body revealed to you in stages, until he is just a bare as you.  

“Warm enough now?”

Walking over to the bed, he pushes you back, grasping your thighs and yanking them apart as he leans in close, kissing the side of your neck. “I could stand to be a lot warmer.”  

“I think I can assist with that.” Gripping his waist, you pull his toned, lean body down to cover yours, turning to kiss him, your being alight with thirst for him as your bodies mould together in heated embrace. He’s all coiled muscles, scars and tattoos, and he feels perfect against you, his hands grasping and sliding, his mouth pressed to yours in heated exchange before moving to your neck once more, your hips undulating against him, desperate for some kind of friction.  

How you’ve craved him, and Ubbe knows it, his strong hands reaching beneath you, kneading your bum, his teeth sharp suddenly at your throat, gliding to give your nipples much the same attention, his glorious cock hardening against your sex.  

Beneath his kisses, ever lowering, you bloom, like a flower in the morning sunrise, your body awakened by your lover, your hands trailing over the shaven sides of his head as he moves lower, sparks of anticipation skipping through you.  

The sweeping flush of pleasure is immediate and intense when his explorative mouth finally reaches its destination, his tongue gliding into your slit with the firmest of licks, your scent like a heady perfume to him, your taste bathing his tongue like a fine mead.  

The blade of his tongue stiffens against you, your body rolling up against his mouth, your clit starting to harden as it’s covered in the hot wet of incessant circles, forcing gasps and mewls from your mouth. It’s the sound he’s played in his head on the nights he’s spent alone, without you next to him, beneath him, atop him, however you choose to give yourself to your Viking.  

He groans, pure and guttural around a mouthful of your cunt, eyes like blue fire opening to find yours over the rise of your breasts, staring at you intently before like the feathers of a crow wing, those thick, dark lashes flutter to conceal the intensity within, closing as his cheeks hollow and he sucks at you with aplomb.  

You stray from him slightly, the pleasure making you wiggle away, body wracked with oversensitivity. His hands grip your thighs, holding you still as his mouth buries into your slick heat again, so firm and consuming, feasting upon you with zeal.  

Each lick conjures the most ardent divinity, tingles and swells of heat prickling your clit as he rolls his tongue up and down, lazy and soft, alternated with firm quickening, your soft moans helpless and sweet, pattering the air with his heavy grunts of lust.  

He coaxes deep grits from your throat, your sweet demeanour giving way to a woman of coarseness, as only he can. But your soft little voice gritting out the word fuck again and again as you tighten and quake as always, makes him so foggy with arousal he cannot bear not to be inside you a moment longer.  

Pleasure falls like a shooting star within the vast sky that is your body, his thumb taking over what his tongue has so skilfully conjured as he moves to kneel before you, the thick head of his hardness intruding, parting your quivering walls as you come undone, shaking, your body twitching violently, Ubbe grinning at your reaction. Your loss of control is very much to his satisfaction.  

The heat of his cock radiates within you, his once bright eyes darkened with lust, pupils blown as he fixates upon you, watching your breasts heave and shake with the force he thrusts into you with, your molten core alight, the petals of your cunt opened like a flower around the thick intrusion of him.

He glides against your tender walls, pushing your thighs further apart as he lowers to kiss the column of your throat, your veins warmed by unrelenting, sharp waves of pleasure throbbing through you from your core.  

His hands wrap around you, pulling you up with him as he rests back on his heels, cock slipping just a little deeper within you, pleasure daggering you deep as you move in sync with each upward roll of his hips, a whine spilling from your lips, muted by his mouth upon yours once more as his hands flex at your shoulders, running in a sumptuous glide down your sweat beaded back.  

While the snow plummets outside, within your cabin the heat does nothing but ascend, Ubbe’s thighs tensing beneath you as he moves with more purpose, teeth at your lip, his groan an explosion of sound as the bonfire of lust burns unrelentingly through his loins. He is both heavy and sharp within you, cock nudging your depths and driving skitters through you, your spine alight with tingles.  

It crackles through you, pleasure seared as his hand reaches between your bodies, stretching to stroke his thumb over your clit, his other arm snaked up your back, hand grasping the hair at your nape to pull your head back, your throat exposes to the ravenous ravages of his mouth as he kisses and bites at you hungrily.  

“Cum hard for me, my beauty.” 

Your slick heat begins fluttering around him, both of you chasing your releases, the violent twitching of his cock beginning to spill deep within you as you cry out until you’re hoarse, clasping him to you, aware of nothing else but the blaze he evoked between your legs and the hard bulk of him, steadying in the blazing aftermath.  

When you’re with Ubbe, everything else always slips away and ceases to be. Once again, it is just you and him. As it should be.

[charliehoennam]

learn to listen

A/N: Now that the holidays have finally passed, I’ve been able to back to my writing in peace. Sorry if I’ve taken a while to post the requests, but I shall get to each of them! Ubbe drabble requested by the lovely itisjustwhatitis. Request can be found here. Hope you enjoy it! 

Warnings: Possible spoilers if you haven’t watched season 5 (I think?); mentions of lying and physical harm

SHARING IS CARING, SO PLEASE REBLOG

Ubbe had been accompanying his father to his favorite blacksmith of Kattegat – a close trustworthy friend of the king since boyhood who had fought by his side in countless battles and happened to be your dear father – to retrieve a sword Ragnar had paid for since Ubbe was old enough to wield one. You were only a couple years younger than the king’s second son, but the fierceness in your spirit and kindness in his attracted one another; it didn’t take you very long to become close friends.  

Growing up among the princes of Kattegat made you loyal to each of them, but it was evident to all who watched you play or train that your allegiance was to Ubbe. As you got older, the reason for this loyal was clearly undeniable. You loved him more than a friend. Whether he knew it or not didn’t really matter to you. You valued the trust he had in you; your friendship had blossomed into a treasure too priceless to sacrifice and you would do nothing to lose it as it would mean losing him. Unknowingly to him, the friendship evolved to something more for you. Yet you’d only realized this when it was far too late; when vows and rings had been exchanged to someone who wasn’t you.

You buried the truth along with the envy of his wife deep down in the darkest hollow of your thoughts to ensure the words would never slip out from your mouth and into the revealing daylight. It weighed heavily in your heart, like an iron anchor docking a ship near the shores of the most beautiful and fruitful island. You’d rather let that ship sink to the depths of that island than depart from it out of fear of never seeing the divine land again.

It was that very loyalty that led you to join the great army. You would be damned if you’d let Ubbe face a battle without you beside him. Ubbe was a strong young man now; he didn’t really need anyone to fight his battles for him. That never stopped you from keeping an eye on him on the battlefield, making sure he was safe and sometimes saving his life.  

Even before the city of York had been successfully seized and occupied by the Viking army, no one could deny the tension that had been growing between the brothers since the forming of the great army. Sigurd’s death at the hands of the youngest brother was only a bucket of oil tossed over a flame. Ivar still felt the urge to quench his bloodthirst; Ubbe, on the other hand, felt as if he had had his fill. The fact that he wanted to make peace wasn’t strange to you. Not only was it part of his mediating nature, but he already confessed to you after the execution of his father’s murderers. He believed the debt had been paid in blood yet not sufficiently in land, so when Ivar suggested they continue and extend the battle to York, he followed reluctantly with the thought of peace and Sigurd’s death haunting his mind constantly.  

Within moments into the celebratory feast, your eyes scanned subtly over the crowd in search of his familiar blue eyes. If he wasn’t drinking or celebrating, you knew better than anyone something was weighing on his mind.  

Instinctively, you sought him out in his quarters as you’d usually done when you felt something was off. The genuine intention was to make sure he was alright, but it usually ended up in a long heart-to-heart conversation. Things he needed to speak aloud to someone he trusted to never repeat them with harmful intent.

“I knew you would come looking for me.”

“It’s not like you make much of an effort to hide.” You chuckled. Of course, he’d be in his room. Usually, he would go for a walk in the woods of Kattegat but it was far from his reach now.

“I’m fine.”

“I didn’t say you weren’t, but I know too well to know your thoughts are far.”

“I can’t let you carry my burdens all the time, y/n.”

“You say that as if you force them on me. I choose to carry them freely. That’s what friends are for, after all.”

He chuckled in agreement, sat in a fur-covered chair by the fireplace; its’ heat and glow radiating the room in warm dark shadows. Ubbe’s eyes moved to fix on you for a moment, hoping he could find it in himself to lie to you. He couldn’t, not to you. The mental debate in his head settled as his gaze dropped to the wooden floorboards on the room, defeated and vulnerable. You moved step by step as the hearth invited you closer until your shoulder found a place to lean against the mantle.

“Tell me what is it the matter with you, Ubbe. I won’t force it out of you, but we have always been honest to each other.”  

He knew you were right. There was never a way to hide from you. He also knew you would be too happy with the truth.

“Hvitserk and I are riding out tomorrow night to meet secretly with the Saxons and negotiate.”

You sighed and closed your eyes as your head tilted back. No, this didn’t please you in the slightest as expected. You were smart enough to know how this would end.  

“I know what you are thinking, but those lands are rightfully ours. They were promised to my father, stolen and slathered with the blood of our people.”

You watched him speak with passion in his hushed tone, like someone could’ve been listening on the other side of the door. Silently falling into thought with every possible outcome flashing through your mind, you knew which was probable to take life and you dreaded just thinking about it.  

“Ubbe, I understand and I agree with you. But I’m afraid I have to disagree with your method.”

“My method?” He asked almost insulted.

“Do you really expect to just walk into the Saxon camp after slaughtering almost their entire army and ask for peace? Entirely rely on their mercy?”

“Trust has to go both ways, doesn’t it?”

“You’re a smart man. You know that would be stupid, Ubbe. What makes you think they will even want to negotiate with us?”

“If they don’t, we continue attacking them until they agree. Their army has already been defeated; they know our forces are much stronger than theirs.”

“We may have won battles, yes. But they weren’t the only one who lost soldiers. We are in their territory; their numbers can be easily replenished. Ours would take much longer to be rebuilt for war since they would travel by sea.”

“Which is why I strongly believe it would be wiser to make an agreement now instead of causing more unnecessary bloodshed. My father has already been avenged. Now we can fulfill his dream, his original dream. A safe, peaceful life for our people on soil healthy enough to farm so we don’t have to do this anymore.”

“I respect that and I agree. We cannot fight forever. But you know just as well asI if any Viking sets foot on their camp, they will cut their head off and send it back as a message.”

“But I am not just any Viking. I am a son of Ragnar.”

“Then they won’t send your head back. They’ll sew to a dead wolf or mount it on a spike.”

“I’m not asking you to come with me, y/n. You don’t have to worry about your life.” 

“It’s not my life I’m concerned about.”  

A silence fell between you as his gaze met yours. He knew he didn’t have to ask you to do anything for him; you’d do it willingly and proudly in his honor. Your extreme loyalty to him had never gone unnoticed.Not by him and certainly not by his new wife either. He was never blind to the truth or how you felt about him, but forcing an unwilling confession out of you was far worse in his eyes. He would never put you in that position.  

“Y/n, you don’t have to worry about me.”

“Saying that won’t make me stop... What if you don’t come back alive?”

“Then at least I can tell my father in Valhalla that I tried.” You sighed at his stubbornness.  

“This does not sound like a good idea. In fact, it sounds like a stupid idea. A very stupid idea.”

“Maybe it is,” he chuckled “but I have to try.”

“There is really nothing I can say to convince you otherwise, is there?”  

He just smirked and shook his head.

“What time do we leave?”

“We? We are not going. Hvitserk and I are.”

“Now you’re telling jokes too? I’m going with you whether you like it or not. You won’t leave me behind.”

“Never, y/n. You know you mean far too much to me.” A mixture anguish and pride filled your chest. Happy to know Ubbe valued your friendship just as much as you did, but that was all you could be for him right now. Just a friend.  

“Tomorrow night then.” You nodded stubbornly before making your way out of his room.  

Little did you know that he had felt the same concoction of emotion in his chest. He wished he could’ve had the courage to express how he truly felt over all those years; that he cared for you more than a friend should; that jealously haunted his mind just as much as it taunted yours. He wished he could tell you that his marriage was a way to encourage himself to move on and forget about the love he believed he would do anything to protect. That included lying to you about the fact that he and Hvitserk had plans to leave on that very night and not the night after as he had told you. He needed you to believe his lie and you fell right into his trap.

If it hadn’t been for the injuries already inflicted by the Saxons, you would’ve punched him yourself for lying to you after you awoke to learn Ubbe and his younger brother left without you not too long after your talk. The consequences of his failed attempt to negotiate were already in action. The brothers were officially divided; Hvitserk abandoned Ubbe to stay and raid with Ivar and his followers. You could see Ubbe’s heart shatter in his eyes as you sat with the wooden oar heavy in your hands. Your heart would break for him; share his pain though Hvitserk was not your brother. You hung your head low, filled with grief. However, there was no doubt or regret in your heart even after the ship took sail to return to Kattegat. But he lied to you. He never lied to you before. You avoided Ubbe and ignored his few attempts to talk to you. It was obvious to him that you were hurt, but the fact that you were still on his side reassured him of your never-ending loyalty. Something that would never go unnoticed. The guilt, on the other hand, had been swelling in the form of a heavy lump in his throat. A stone he couldn’t swallow until he apologized or at least got some reaction from you. The silent treatment was always the worst form of punishment.

He sat in silence for most of the time, glaring back towards the shrinking land until it disappeared from view. Biting your tongue, you focused on rowing in sync with the fellow Vikings; forcing yourself to ignore the soreness amplifying with every rotation of your arms. Usually sitting in the front row never bothered you until you suddenly felt his eyes on you.  

“Don’t look at him. Just keep rowing,” you thought to yourself. The leather of your protective gloves squeaked against the wood as your grip tightened. “Just ignore that lying bastard. He got what he deserved for lying like t- No. Don’t come over here! Please don’t si- Fuck. He sat down.”

Plotting himself in front of you, he sat silent hoping you’d at least acknowledge his presence. But you wouldn’t dare give him that slight satisfaction. Just because you’d chosen to go home did not mean you would forgive him. It wasn’t like he lied to one of his men. He lied to you, the closest friend either of you ever had. At this point, lack of honesty was a lack of respect towards all the years, the time, the work, the thought and care invested into your friendship. You simply expected the same honesty you had always given him. Well... Almost always, at least.  

“You’ll have to talk to me eventually. Can’t ignore me forever.”

His first attempt to seek out a reply from you failed. You clenched your jaw, locking your watchful gaze on your oar.  

“Y/n, I had no choice but to lie to you. I was only trying to keep you safe.”

“I don’t need anyone to keep me safe.”  

Your tone was sharp and cold as a blade. Partially because of the situation; partially because he got what he was trying to provoke you for. A reaction, a word, a look of any kind. Just something to finally break the silence.

“No, you don’t. You never did, y/n, and I’ve always admired that about you.”  

“Not enough to tell me the truth. We were supposed to go together. I could’ve helped you.”

“There was nothing you could do that wouldn’t lead to your death.”

“So? I faced that same risk for you before. Wouldn’t have been the first.”

“No, but it could’ve been the last.”

“Then I would’ve joined our fathers in Valhalla.”

“I can live with blood on my hands, y/n. But not yours.”

You sighed as your arms lowered, resting the oar back on your lap. Would you have lied to him if you knew it would protect him? Yes. There was nothing you would’ve done differently. Realizing that was beginning to hurt more the previous cause for hurt. He had suffered enough already. With his eye swollen shut, his face half bruised and beat, all the physical pain could never have matched the pain of Hvitserk leaving him. That knive certainly cut the deepest without even touching his flesh. It cut far deeper that that. It cut into his very soul, rendering a wound that wound not even time would heal.

He paid a heavy price for betraying Ivar and the consequences were merciless on him. The least you could do now is ease them a bit with your forgiveness. 

“I did warn you it was a stupid idea. Hopefully, once your eye heals, you’ll be able to see I’m right more often.”

He chuckled and nodded.

“You’re always right. I just learn better the hard way, y/n.”

[ofhoneyandrosepetals]

Spooky Little Stories - Halloween special series (Tale II - Ubbe)

Pairing: Modern!Ubbe x OFC

Description: in this Halloween special series you’ll follow five tales, which one of them with a different Ragnarsson and a different pairing! A group of five friends travel to Kattegat in the last week of October to see if what people tell of that little town is true…

Every week a new chapter!

Warnings: swearings.

Word count: 2,214

A/N: due to Tumblr’s links problems, I’m not going to put here the link for my masterlist and my ask, but you all can keep up with the link for my masterlist in my bio!

No one seemed particularly bothered by last night’s events - except for me -, and Sam’s injury was, nonetheless, gone.

Like if it was magic.

Like if it was never there.

I cannot tell if it was a vision, if I was more drunk than I thought, and as I’m not one for Halloween, then definitely I’m not one for magical shit. But how else can I explain such a thing? Because, when I was considering that maybe I was indeed drunk and seeing things, I looked down at my thighs, where I tried to clean Sam’s blood out of my hands, and it was there, dry and dark, almost imperceptible.

When Halston woke up I tried to ask her in the most discreet way about last night, but all I received was “Sam’s a brat, nothing happened.”

Interesting fact: Sam’s blood was nowhere expect on me, which was pretty much a fucked up thing.

At 10 AM Bjorn showed up, telling us the guideline for today, but I wasn’t in the mood to stroll around with that guy in this place. I tried to make some eye contact with all of my friends, trying to see if anyone was down for an exploration by ourselves in downtown. Jule seemed to be a bit bothered by Bjorn’s lineup, so it was for her that I went.

“Down for some field research?” I asked.

“And by that you mean…?” She whispered.

“We could visit downtown by ourselves, maybe ask a couple of things…”

“What kind of things? Why?”

“I don’t know, this place is weird; don’t you think?” Jule took some time to respond, which made me think that she wouldn’t say a thing at all. She nodded.

“It’s curious, that’s how I can put it. Do you think it would be okay for us to split the group?”

“I don’t think the girls would care, sincerely, and Bjorn can’t force us to go with him more deep into the woods - by the way, what the fuck there’s there, anyway?, that he wants to show us so bad?”

“More Viking History?”

“Maybe. This place would be a goldmine for historians.”

“For people who believe in scary shit, too,” I can say that I felt something else in her tone, but I didn’t want to ask right away.

And so I announced our separation in this evening’s events and, surprise!, no one really cared. Bjorn seemed to be a little suspicious, but who am I to care about what that guy thinks?

*

Kattegat’s downtown was something between a little town from the 60s mixed up with a couple of modern elements, just to reassure that this was the year of 2019. It was so calm and desert that got me a little depressed, like if we were in the beach during winter.

Of course that me and Jule weren’t the only ones walking around the streets, but it was far more “empty” than I expected.

“Wanna buy something?” I pointed to some boutiques, but Jule didn’t seem interested.

“Souvenirs from this place? I don’t think so.”

“I thought you were excited to come here.”

“And I was, until last night.”

“Yeah, last night… it was something, but I guess it was a normal thing.”

“It wasn’t a normal thing,” Jule said very categorical, making me take a mental note.

“There’s not really much to see, huh?” Jule said after some time when I was already feeling tired of walking and cursing myself.

“Let’s see if we can find a good place so I don’t feel completely idiot and useless because of this idea,” I said out of my temper, trying to spot a good place.

And, as if some kind of great force had listened to me, there it was, right in front of us, a couple of blocks away - a bar. It was obviously closed, I didn’t even need to read the “closed” sign in the front door to know, but I could see through the windows and the dim light inside that there were people in there.

I grabbed Jule by her hand and went to the bar, opening the front door - that wasn’t locked, by the way.

“Get the fuck hell out of here!” Said the man behind the counter, throwing a towel to another man on the back door, but he couldn’t be seen - he was already gone.

“Excuse me…” Jule started and the man turned.

He was tall, strong, tanned, blonde with blue eyes - and pretty much like Bjorn, I’m afraid to say, even though there was still something different between them.

“Bar’s closed, ladies,” he said gently, but yet fierce.

“We know, but we’re just wondering if you don’t mind if we…”

“Asked a couple of things? Maybe?” I completed Jule’s sentence. The man raised an eyebrow, got a towel, three glasses and started cleaning them, tossing them on the counter. I grabbed mine and Jule almost lost hers.

“How can someone say no?” He said in a flirty tone, and all of a sudden I regretted my choices - but Jule didn’t seem to be bothered by the man’s attempt.

“Can we first know your name, please?” I asked.

“Oh, sorry. It’s Ubbe. And you are…?”

“Jule,” Jule said her name quickly.

“Ella,” I said mine not so enthusiastically.

“Tourists, I suppose,” Ubbe said, grabbing a bottle of whiskey.

“Just spending the Halloween’s week,” Ubbe raised an eyebrow - again -, but this time in curiosity; maybe even in judgement. Blue eyes never lie.

“Why would you come all the way here just for that?”

“And that is why we’re here for,” I said, meaning our presence at the bar at this hour of the day and our will to talk to him.

“Oh,” he said, showing way too much understanding of the situation. “You want me to start or do you want to find yourselves?” Ubbe took a sip of his whiskey. Jule didn’t touch hers - she wasn’t one for whiskey. I followed Ubbe.

“Maybe you could start at telling us what are the tales, exactly, and why do they exist. You know, every tale has a root - there’s this house in Los Angeles that was built by a doctor who was really a creepy, and lots of shit happened there, so obviously the house has the reputation of being haunted.”

“I understood, yeah. Well, I think our main shit is werewolves,” Ubbe started, supporting his elbows on the counter, looking at some point near the ceiling, behind us. “I cannot really say why it is, but it all leads to Fenrir.”

“Fenrir?” Jule asked.

“Loki’s child, you know? Norse Mythology?” Jule nodded. “My father always said that our family descended from Odin,” Ubbe said in a tone and looked at us to make sure that we knew who Odin was. “The All-Father,” he said to Jule. “But this town not only has Odin’s blood - it has Fenrir’s blood as well.”

“I don’t find a sense to this,” I said, getting a petty look from Ubbe. “No; really! I have no idea where you wanna get. Fenrir? Odin? Your ancestry? The next thing you’ll gonna tell is about the Ragnarok.”

“How do you know that?” I rolled my eyes. “The tales say that Ragnarok isn’t really what the old Norse folk thought it was. Of course it was the end of times, but the end of times mean people turning into werewolves, descended directly from Fenrir. They meant to be the most brutal, violent and bloody creatures, right before Fenrir himself. The end of times meant the rise of monsters.”

“So you’re saying…” I tried to get a conclusion.

“Ragnarok happened,” Ubbe took another sip from his glass. I laughed.

“So Ragnarok happened and Ragnarok is a bunch of werewolves?”

“Brutal creatures,” Ubbe said in a mocking tone. I was laughing with him, but it was only a momentary thing, because I looked at Jule and she was so pale that I thought she would faint. Last night’s events came to my mind.

“Can I have a glass of water? I don’t think Jule here feels so good,” I put my hand on Jule’s back, just to be careful and ready in case she falls. Ubbe brought a glass of cold water and Jule sat on the chair by the counter. She was slightly getting better. “Is there a… more realistic version of it?” I got back to the subject.

“You mean a more realistic explanation for werewolves?” I could feel the sarcasm in the air, coming so close. But Ubbe only shrugged. “Fenrir is back on his chains, Tyr still lost his hand and all the werewolves are running free. The old Norse folk were very… strong-believers in their religion. It just passed through generations. People just believed that this was truth, that it was the truth. Not many people are willing to dig it more deep.”

Ubbe touched Jule’s wrist with the tip of his fingers, asking through gestures if she was okay. She nodded and thanked for the water.

“Why’d you said that about Odin? What does he have to do with all of that?”

“Oh…” Ubbe seemed uncomfortable. “Nothing, it was just… In the old Ragnarok tale, they said that Odin was consumed by Fenrir, but we don’t know what happened to him in the werewolves’ tale. It was never said.”

“Maybe he became one,” Jule said. “Maybe he’s the leader of the pack.”

“Are you okay, Jule?” I asked.

“You’re Bjorn’s brother, aren’t you? I can tell the resemblance. And the name of the bar - same as the old village’s. Camp’s too.”

And that I wasn’t ready for - Jule turned out to be a better detective than I am.

“Yes, we… we’re brothers. Did something happened? You don’t seem… I don’t know…” It was obvious that Ubbe was feeling the same that me and Jule felt about Bjorn.

“Bjorn just scared us last night, it was nothing. Typical guy thing,” I said before Jule could say anything else, since she wasn’t looking very pleasant and I didn’t want to sound to Ubbe like those scared little tourists who thought they were seeing shit.

“I was supposed to help there this week, but I had some errands here that needed my attention. I thought it would be all okay there,” Ubbe meant the camp, but I was so sure that there was something else in all of this story.

“He got laid with our friend last night and thought it would be cool to give her a jumpscare in the middle of the forest in the middle of the night. I almost had a heart attack,” and so Jule said.

“Wait, so it was only Bjorn there?” Ubbe asked. We nodded. “Stupid piece of shit,” he slammed the glass against the counter. “Bjorn wasn’t supposed to be there all alone.”

“Why? Is that a problem? Is it so serious?” I asked, suddenly worried as hell.

“My brother - our brother - Hvitserk was supposed to back up Bjorn,” Ubbe noticed the concern in my face. “But...” He closed his eyes, trying to remain calm. “It’s nothing, it’s nothing serious. It’s just… I kinda got in charge of things when our father died, and Bjorn seems to ignore that and all of my younger brothers too. I just try to keep this place all held up. You see, we got a lot of business around, it’s a lot to take care.”

“Does any of your brothers help?” Jule asked, carefully.

“Only one, but he’s always absent. He makes things on his own way. It helps, but I would be more grateful if I knew what was happening, and how. I’m tired of taking care of brats.”

Jule touched Ubbe’s hand and, when I saw it, I couldn’t believe it, but Ubbe’s expression went immediately from extremely angry to very calm. His eyes were cloudy blue and his face was no longer red.

*

“This all smells weird,” Jule said the moment we got out of the bar. “His family descends from Odin, then Odin is consumed by Fenrir, that happens to turn humans to werewolves. What would you think, in the first place?” Jule was walking fast, gesturing wildly. “Bjorn’s his brother, Ella. I know you saw what I saw,” I stopped. Jule stopped ahead me, turning back.

“The blood,” I said.

“The injury.”

“You saw that too.”

“Yeah, I saw, and I’m freaking out. I have no idea how all those facts from Ragnarshit connect, but somehow they do, and it’s obvious that Bjorn isn’t normal, and probably Ubbe too.”

“But you liked him,” Jule was caught out off guard.

“I can tell that he’s different. He doesn’t like Bjorn.”

“It doesn’t mean…”

“Yeah, it doesn’t, but it does mean that he’s different.”

“So, just to be completely sure, and take note that I’m afraid of sounding stupid, but I really need to know.”

“What?”

“That you’re saying…” I gave Jule the chance to continue for me.

“I’m saying that I believe in the werewolf tale. I’m saying that I believe in all of that, even Odin’s ancestry.”

“And…?”

“And I’m concluding that Bjorn is a werewolf, and so all of his brothers.”

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[gardenflowerswriting]

Christmas with Ubbe

A/N: starts of fluffy, but gets a little naughty at the end. Gif: princeubbe (this is also a week early)

Ubbe was shaken awake in his sleep by his younger daughter, "Daddy, Daddy Santa has come!" She squealed as he attempted to blink his eyes open.

"Hm?"

He realized his mistake in asking what she said, "Santa Came!" She yelled, this time a meaner tone coming out when she became restless with his closed eyes.

He smiled, she always had him wrapped around her finger, any ask or question, would be given with a kiss on the head. He nodded his head, “Okay, okay,” he pulled the cover down, the Christmas pajamas she picked out a little more tight than he wished. “How about you go downstairs, and I’ll wake up mommy?” She nodded her head, gripping the pink rabbit in her hands as she trotted back down the hallway. Ubbe turned to see you snuggled against the fuzzy, red Christmas blanket your mom gave you. He didn’t want to wake you up, you barely ever got sleep in the first place. He laid down, so his chest was on your back, and delicately drew lines up and down your arm, “babe?” He whispered into your ear.

He could see you brows scrunch together, “hmm?”

He smiled, “Tomris wants us to open presents.”

“Now?”

He kissed your head, “I’ll get Mag and make some coffee going.” You nodded your head, eyes finally coming open to see the sun barely starting to rise.

Ubbe lifted himself out of the bed, walking across the room to the small crib that sat against the wall. He smiled, his large arms going around the small boy that slept restlessly in the bed, “Come here Mags,” the baby started to twist in his hands, “Shh it’s okay, come on.” He walked out of your warm room and down the hall. Tomi sat on a new bike Santa brought her.

“Daddy look! Santa brought me a bike! And it’s blue!”

He smiled, “hmm, Santa must have good taste then?”

Her eyes were wide with the amount of joy filled in them, “I’ll go make some coffee for mommy, and when she’s down we’ll start opening presents.”

With Mags still resting on his shoulder, he began a pot of coffee, until he head Tomi squeal again, “mommy! Look at what Santa brought me!”

Ubbe looked into the living room as you wore the same pajamas as him, “wow, he must know you really wanted it!”

He watched as you brushed her curls away from her face, “can we go outside and I can ride it!” The only way she was balancing on it now was the training wheels holding her up.

You frowned, “oh honey, it’s snowing a lot, maybe when the snow is all gone we can,” it almost broke Ubbe’s heart to see Tomi frown, “but how about you ride it around the house? I’m sure that can’t hurt.”

Her eyes lit up, “okay!”

“But first, we have to open presents.”

It wasn’t long till Ubbe sat down, and you sat on the arm him of his chair. He held Mags on his left shoulder, and his right hand wrapped around your hip. You carried your phone as Tomi started opening her endless presents. You told Ubbe, Santa, she didn’t need all that, she would be spoiled rotten, but he shrugged, saying it was in good fun. You took many pictures of her eyes growing wide as they set out on a new toy, you hopped off the chair to take a picture of Ubbe, though he protested, attempted to say he ‘just woke up.’ You only rolled your eyes, “just let me take the freaking picture, I won’t post it!”

After you opened Mags gifts, though again, you protested even getting him something, because 1) he was a baby who wouldn’t even be awake, which was true, and 2) he already had an endless amount of gifts from when he was first born in March.

Tomi sat around her new toys, playing with the barbies she asked for, and the giant house, which took Ubbe all night to build. You ran back to your room to grab a small box wrapped in red wrapping paper, and the word Ubbe written in the corner. “Here,” you say, kissing him on the head, “it’s not anything special, and I know you didn’t want me to get you something, but I saw it and thought you would like it.”

He smiled, “babe.”

But you snuggled against the arm chair again, “just open it.”

And he did, but instead of a wide smile, he looked somewhat disappointed, “a watch!” He said in a fake tone of excitement.

You frowned, “I thought you’d like it? I don’t know, you never wear watches and I thought I actually get you one. The women at the counter said it was the latest fashion trend among the men.”

He smiled, shaking his head, “no, no I love it baby,” he kissed your head, “thank you.”

You frowned, “well I have another one, but it’ll have to wait.”

He smiled, “well, I got you one too.” You watched as he lifted himself up, and walked towards the tall shelves only he should reach. He held Mags as he went on his tiptoes, his free hand feeling for a black velvet box, “I didn’t have time to wrap it.”

You smiled at the sleekness of it, “Ubbe, how much did you spend?”

He only shook his head, standing in front of you, waiting for you to open it, “well you act like I don’t see the ring catalogues you get.”

You rolled your eyes, opening it to see a large diamond in an oval shape, with tiny others wrapping around the band. Your eyes winded, looking up to him, “Ubbe?”

He smiled, “do you like it?”

You couldn’t believe you got him a watch. A watch. A watch that was probably not even a fraction of the price of the ring that sat in your hands. You shouldn’t even be holding it, what it if broke? What if the diamond fell out? That was on you. “Yeah.”

He knelt down on his knee, taking the box from you and taking it out, delicately placing it on your finger. It fit perfectly, “I got the size I got when we were engaged, but I didn’t know if it would fit cause of the babies.” You couldn’t take your eyes off the ring, it was so sparkly, you’d hate to admit it, but sparklier than you first engagement ring. Ubbe only smiled, “I’ll go make some breakfast, we’ll leave for my moms at 1?” You nodded your head, and he handed you Mags, “I think he’ll wanna eat too?”

You were still speechless, but he shuffled to the kitchen, “Daddy?” Tomi followed.

“Hmm baby?”

She rode past you, “what’a you making?”

“What’a you want?”

The morning flew by, partly because you spent it with Ubbe, which you never got to do. You always worked, and being a nurse was hard, you worked almost every holiday. The only reason you got this Christmas off, was because you practically begged one of the older women to work it for you. She only smiled, “Young love, one day you’ll appreciate working the holidays.” You only smiled and kissed her cheek, “a saint among us.”

You managed to get Tomi dressed, she wore her new red dress, and matching shoes. Ubbe wore a flannel with jeans, and Mags got to wear his little Santa pajamas. You still couldn’t get over the chubbiness in his cheeks when you looked at him. Ubbe carried Mags carrier, placing it in the car as you held Tomi’s hand, letting her slide down the ice that was still on the driveway. “Ready?” He asked.

She skidded towards him, “yes!”

The afternoon was spent with Ubbe’s family, all your sister-in-laws gawking at the size of your ring, and you saw Ivars girlfriend slap his side, “when do I get one of those?”

He only rolled his eyes, reaching for his beer. Aslaug came to your rescue, “Come on girls, your children are begging to open presents!”

You found Ubbe sitting with Ragnar, so you decided to steal the spot next to him before Bjorn could. Ragnar looked past Ubbe, only slightly moving not to wake up Mags who sat on his chest, “how’s my favorite daughter-in-law doing?”

You smiled, “I’m fine Ragnar.”

He smiled, “good,” his voice went to a whisper, “because if I hear trouble, I’ll beat his ass for you.”

You only laughed, taking Ubbe’s hand, “I think it’ll be fine.”

Ragnar only leaned back in his spot, until Bjorn’s children came to his feet, “grandpa, can we open gifts now?”

Ragnar smiled, “why not? Santa come for a reason, right?” They smile and nod, sometimes you swore there little minds had Ragnar wrapped around their fingers. He handed you Mags, and began pacing the present out. Aslaug and Ragnar got Ubbe and you new baby things, as if you didn’t have enough, you know had a new baby bag, and fuzzy blankets. You leaned into Ubbe’s shoulder, watching as everyone laughed at Ivar as he attempt to scare the kids.

Once all the wrapping and empty boxes were picked up, Tomi ran to you, “mommy! Since Ilya a-and Jace get to stay with grandpa and grandma, can I? Please, Please, Please?”

You brushed her hair away from her face, “is everyone staying?”

“The kids,” Aslaug came up behind Tomi, kneeling down for the child to rest on her leg, she looked up to you with her warm eyes, “it is our Christmas gift.”

Tomi leaned into her, nodding her head as if she knew what her grandmother was even talking about. You sighed, “well if everyone else is, I suppose you can too Tomi.”

You had never seen a bigger smile, “yeah!” She jumped from Aslaugs arms and ran towards the littler cousins, “she said I could!” They all squealed.

You looked over to Ubbe, who was half asleep, resting his head on your shoulder. You tried standing, attempting to smuggle away from his face, but his head only tilted the other way, into a pillow. Aslaug smiled, “leave Mags too, all the children can stay.”

You frowned, “oh, I don’t know, it’s just-”

She carefully took him from your arms, “Y/N, go have fun, you need it,” she looked towards Ubbe’s sleeping body. You had never left Mags alone, or been without him, and if you worked, Ubbe was there to send constant updates and pictures. She could see the worry in your face, “it’ll be fun having a baby in our home again, besides, I have all the thing he needs from when we babysit.”

You nodded your head, “okay.”

She smiled, her soft face always got you to comply with anything she asked, “have fun love,” she kissed your cheek and moved to the children, “who wishes to watch a movie?” They all squealed in return.

You sighed, turning to your husband, who looked damn near dead, “Ubbe.” You whispered, “Ubbe!”

His eyes moved open, “hu-what?”

You smiled, taking his hands and lifting him up, “Come on, we’re going home.”

You slipped the keys from his pocket and began walking him to the door, “where are the kids?”

You smiled, “their staying with your mom, come on.”

You were able to get him in the car, but as your began driving, his eyes never left your face. You looked over at him, “Yes Ubbe?”

He smiled, his hand reaching over to yours, “I married the most beautiful women in the world, no universe!”

You smiled, rubbing his knuckles lightly, “did you drink with Hvitserk?”

His face scrunched, “what? No!”

You only giggled, “seems like you’re a little drunk babe.”

He squinted at you, then looked back to the road, “just get me home.”

You did as he wished, and found yourself setting him on the bed. He sat at the end, eyes half open. “Oh!” He almost jumped, “I have another present!”

He looked sad, “you do?”

You rolled your eyes, “Yes!”

He fell back into the bed, “baby, I love you, but I’m so tired.”

You didn’t listen to him, only running to your closet to get a white rectangular box out from its hiding. You smiled when you reached him again, throwing the box into his lap, “Ubbe, will you just open it?”

He let out a grunt before getting up, carefully undoing the bow it was wrapped in. When he lifted the top, his eyes were laced in confusion, “what is this?”

You sat next to him, too excited to even speak, “well, take it out!”

He did as you said, a dark green emerald bra laid between his fingers, and he looked at you, confused, “what am I gonna do with this?”

“Are you dumb?” He didn’t answer, only holding that dumbfounded look on his face, “give it to me!” You snatched the box and bra from him, “don’t fall asleep!” You called from your walk in closet.

You slipped into the lacy material, and laid the matching robe across your skin; the silk felt soft as you tied it to cover your thong, but expose your bra. “Close your eyes!”

“Mmmk,” you could see Ubbe place his hand over his eyes.

You began tiptoeing into the room once more, “keep them closed!”

You could imagine his drunken eyes roll, “they are!”

You smiled when your reached him, his thighs spread open, one hand covering his eyes, and the other rested against your grey blankets. You began to straddle him, “keep them closed.” He let out a huff, but listened, allowing for your smooth legs to go on either side of his thick thighs, and your hands to wrap around to the back of his neck. “Okay,” you smiled, reaching for his hand to lower it, which he did, but he didn’t open his eyes, “Ubbe, you can open your eyes!”

He shook his head, “Simon didn’t say.”

Drunk him was annoying as hell, “Simon says open your goddamn eyes, or I’ll go change.” When he opened them, he looked up to your face first, not even your outfit. He allowed for his eyes to drift downward and widened in the green silk of your robe, and the way your breasts sat, almost overfilling the emerald bra. You shuffled closer to his chest, “so?”

His eyes trailed back up to your face, “goddamn,” his voice a low whisper, almost as though he was talking to himself.

You couldn’t help but laugh, “Ubbe, really?”

His hands found their place on your hips, “goddamn baby!” His voice was almost yelling, like he realized he was actually talking.

“Ubbe stop!”

He let out a puff of air, flipping you over so he was on top, “do you want me to fill you with another kid?” You shook your head, “oh cause I will baby.”

You giggled as he began to kiss your neck, “I know you will.” Your hands held his cheeks, making him look up at your, “was this worth the wait?”

He smiled, “best fucking Christmas Y/N, I promise.”

You couldn’t lie, drunk Ubbe was annoying as hell, but you forgot how well he was able to make you scream.

Tags: @naaladareia @tephi101 @ivarslittlebadgirl @readsalot73 @hail-kattegat