#Hvitserk Ragnarsson x you

[multific]

Someone to Love

Hvitserk x Reader

Summary: Hvitserk as many others, always had a dream.

All he ever wanted to was someone to love. It is all he could dream about.

And one dream seemed very real.

Maybe too real.

In his dream, he could see himself. As if he watched from someone else's eyes.

He saw himself walking the streets of Kattegat. Heading to a house. A house he had never seen before.

Hvitserk followed himself into the house.

"Love?" he heard his own voice, so clear. 

"Here." a female voice came from the bed, Hvitserk watched as he headed over to the bed. 

"How are you feeling? Should I call the healer?"

"No. I'm only tired. Grab her please, I fed her not long ago, just..."

"Okay, you sleep, I will grab her." Hvitserk watched the woman on the bed. He had never seen her, but she looked like a Goddess. A tired-looking Goddess. And soon, he found out why when he heard the cries of a young child. 

Soon, his dream self stood up with a bundle in his arms, smiling at the little one as he watched himself walk away from the bed.

He rushed after the man who looked exactly like him.

Seeing him holding a young little girl a smile on his own face.

"Let's not cry now, Hellena. Your mother is tired she needs to sleep."

Hvitserk was struck, at least he felt like lightning just struck him.

He nearly fell as he felt the tears in his eyes. 

He looked so calm and happy, holding his own daughter.

This is everything he ever wanted.

And here in his dream, he had it.

A family. A wife and a beautiful daughter. Hvitserk never wanted to wake up. But of course, he had to.

And when he did, he wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep.

For the upcoming moon, he had a different dream about his family. 

Many dreams including the woman, his wife, and him. A happy life with a daughter.

Something his mind made up. 

Yet it looked way too real.

He felt as if the Gods were playing a cruel play with him, making him see all these beautiful dreams only to wake up alone.

Hvitserk had been through a lot. He lost his brothers, he wandered the streets and yet, his dream never changed. 

He just wanted someone to love and someone to love him.

He wasn't even supposed to be there, he was travelling from village to village when he ran into a market. He was meant to go around it, avoid the crowd but something pulled him in.

And soon, he locked eyes with her.

The beautiful woman from his dreams, she was looking at different coats and dresses when he looked up and made eye contact with Hvitserk for even just a moment.

And that moment was enough for him. 

He felt as if lightning struck him.

He knew better than to scare her, so he took is slow. Even if all he wanted was to marry her on the spot.

And his opportunity arrived not long after when an old drunk man went up to her and started to touch her. 

Didn't even take Hvitserk a second, he rushed to your side and defended you from the old man.

"Thank you." you said to the handsome stranger.

And it was only the beginning.

---

As you found out Hvitserk was a very stubborn man.

Stubborn and charming. 

"I feel like I'm already in love with you." he said upon meeting you only for the third time. He kept surprising you.

"All Vikings are like you?"

"No, I'm only special." he said smirking.

There was something about him, something that just kept you on the edge but you also found it comfortable.

You felt like you were also in love with him.

And when he kissed you for the first time, it was as if everything fell into place, as if everything just made sense.

The way he kissed you, the way he held you close, you felt as if this was your true calling. To be his.

It didn't take long for you two to get married.

As he placed the ring onto your finger, he looked into your eyes.

"All I ever wanted was to love and be loved. You are my destiny, I love you, Y/N."

After meeting you, Hvitserk stopped having dreams about you. He was now living his dream.

And soon, much like in his dream, a child was born.

You gave him a son. 

"He looks just like you." you said as he entered the room, trying to process what just happened when the nurse finally let him in to see you. He held his son for the first time. "I was thinking, we can name him Ivar after your brother."

Hvitserk couldn't stop the tears from falling as he held his son.

He felt his heart as if it could burst at any moment. 

The little boy looked at his father as Hvitserk sat down on the bed beside you.

He finally had his dream, a beautiful wife and his own little Ivar.

"I love you Hvitserk."

"Thank you." he said as he kept on repeating, knowing his past, you weren't surprised nor did you ask, you just watched him holding your son as you drifted off to sleep. 

Taglist: @fleursirvart​ @greenarrowhead​ @thisismysecrethappyplace​ @sincerelyfan​ @theoneanna​ @aestheticsandmarvel​ @rororo06​ @castellandiangelo​ @destynelseclipsa​ @spilledinkindumpster​ @capsiclesdoll​ @puknow​ @alwayshave-faith​ @alex12948​ @lxdyred​  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl​ @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek​ @praline357​ @trshngyn​ @avengers-r-us​ @violet-19999​ @top1bbgloak​   @manduse​   @jacalineiscomingforyou​  @mandoloriancookie​ @noname2246​

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS  

[at1nys-blog]

His own Valkyrja

Pairing: fem!Doctor!reader x Hvitserk Ragnarsson

Summary: Valkyrje. They come from the sky to take to Valhalla the warrior that feel in battle but Hvitserk Ragnarsson has his own, very different version of a Valkyrja

A/N: This came to mind while watching Doctor who specials on DIsney+ and I wanted to write a ff for the series since I am back at watching it but I dind't want reader to be the companion so I inverted the roles and made a crossover with my favourite historical Tv Show. Also the TARDIS is referred as she because I felt like doing so.

A/N pt.2: There are a couple of words in Old Norse like já that means yes and Valkyrja/Valkyrje, Old Norse for Valkyria/Valkyrie

The song is in danish/old norse so here a transation of the song

It was a simple day in Kattegat, nothing special was going on, not during winter. During the snowy season there were just talks, talks about what was the best curse of actions to take in the spring. Were they going to plunder back a new Saxon’s city or were they going to discover and plunder a complete new city? This was something only the spring and summer could tell.

The winter wind was blowing, hard and consistent, like an old friend that wants to catch up. Everyone wearing thick coats to protect themselves from the cold weather and in the crowded market of the city, one of the sons of Ragnar was walking around.

The prince, the man or whatever you want to call him, didn’t had a place to be, nor he was really interested in what people sold in their lonely stools. He just needed time for himself, away from his brothers, his mother and the lords who tried their everything to become friends with him.

Walking around the city, head up to the clouds, Hvitserk Ragnarsson didn’t notice when he walked outside the city’s walls. It was when he was at the forest’s door that he was brought back to reality.

Looking behind him, he couldn’t see the city, nor hear the chattering of the market anymore. It was just him, a snowy and grey landscape. His mind wondered if he had to go back, but then he decided to stay out a little bit longer. He knew that if anyone needed him, they were going to send someone to find him.

The landscape was snowy and grey and silent. Too much silence was keeping company to the warrior, he started singing. Sure, between his brothers he knew Sigurd was the most artistic one. He was the one with a nice voice and gentle touch and the one with the mind filled with honey like words, but Hvitserk, he was pretty sure he came in good second.

The song was one that his mother's maiden used to sing to him and the rest of the Ragnarssons, it was about Ymir and was rather short but his favourite nontheless.

The forest too was silent. The trees' leaves weren't rustling; birds did not chirp on top of his singing voice and no animals dared to make a noise. It was like the wild that populated that place was admiring his voice.

Hvitserk performance got interrupted by a leaves rustling, as if someone moved them aside to not trip or to get hurt. The prince tried to find the source of the noise, ready to fight it was from a foe-man or an ally. Some seconds later he saw her, a female figure walking directed straight to north.

Hvitserk was able to get a glance of her, taking him just a couple of details: she couldn't be taller than him, maybe some centimeters shorter, from his standing point he couldn't say for sure; her hair were messy and up in a simple braid. He decided to follow her, from a distance to not scare her away and to be in control in case she was enemy to him and his kingdom.

Hvitserk Ragnarsson notice her choice of style was weird, nothing he had saw before. The coat was too long, coming down on her ankles; her feet covered in a colorful pair of...

"What are those called?" he asked, curios and getting the girl's attention. She turned back in an instant, and she had to close her eyes a little if she didn't want to faint there in front of him. The viking approached her carefully, slow in his step and stepping back every now and then.

"What... what are you talking about?" she spoke his language, if that was the case maybe she wasn't an enemy. He pointed at her feet, asking once more what those things were. Looking down, the unfamiliar presence kept silence for some seconds. "Those are called sneakers but you won't need to learn the name, don't worry." was her answer.

"Sneakers." he repetead on and on, as to grab the essence of the word, as if he was trying to taste the word she just spoke.

"I was trying to search for some more historically appropriate footwear but my space ship had a problem and it dropped in the middle of the forest. You know where I can find a river or a lake? I really need some water right about now." Even though Hvitserk could understand what she was saying he couldn't understand what she was talking about, she had dropped a word he had no idea what it meant, it wasn't in his native language. The stranger could tell he was confused. "right, you don't know what space ship means. Again nothing to worry about or for you to keep in mind."

"You say I don't have to worry about a lot of things and still haven't told me your name. I am prince Hviterser son of king Ragnar and Queen Aslaugh." he introduced himself. The figure smiled.

"You are right, how rude of me to not introduce myself. I am The Doctor, but not the doctor you are thinking. I can't cure people." the more this so called Doctor spoke, the more Hvitserk's mind was in a state of confusion, what was she talking about?

"Then what do you cure?" a smirk appeared on her face and the prince was warry of that, was it a good or bad sign? She streatched out her hand tilting her head on the side, it was a clear invitation to take her hand and follow wherever she was goint to. It took him a quick minute to decide to trust her, if she was there to kill him she should have tried already. Not that he thought she could do it, but he felt like she wasn't as weak as she seemed.

"you have nice skin." he commented with a small smile pictured on his features. It hadn't been a long time since he had touched a woman but her skin felt different, it made him feel different.

"I think I've heard someone singing, was it you?" the viking man answered with a quick já that he was sure she understood. "You have a nice voice. Can you sing me a song? If you don't mind, of course." Hvitserk started to sing, a different and longer song than the one he had sung previously to meet her, with a calmer tune. This one talked about a love story between a Valkyrja and a brave warrior.

Hvitersk kept his eyes on the Doctor, thinking that she resembled a Valkyrie. Just like the divine creature, she had come from the sky, sure in a ship made for the space, but still from the sky. He felt like she had found him, maybe he was dreaming and it was all in his head. He thought, for a moment, that she came into his dreams to foresee his imminent death.

He didn't notice her halting in her steps, bumping into her. Hvitserk apologized and she realized something was wrong with the TARDIS' translation circuit because she couldn't understand what he had told her, pretty much he had apologized but still, the word didn't register in her mind.

The language, the one she knew as Old Norse, sounded like an old song. She loved it, and it made it at the top of her list of favourite language--something her ninth version started--alongside Ancient North Martian and Sittuun.

She looked left and right, as to remember which way to go, where did the TARDIS landed? East or West? Hvitserk noticed she never let go of his hand, not even when she had trouble keeping her balance. Her hand still in his.

They walked some more and the prince kept on singing, he performed three songs since she had asked the first time, and he was about to sing a fourth one when she let go of his hand. Hvitserk felt the cold wind now, his hand felt the cold weather and if she didn't rushed towards a blue box he would have kept his hand in hers. He liked it.

He kept his eyes on her, walking inside and he waited a little bit. For what he didn't know but he felt it wasn't right to get inside without an invite. She came out some minutes later, asking him why he was staying outside.

"I didn't think I could..."

"Nonsense, come on. I want to show you something." and back inside she went. He followed her, slowly. He had the idea it was an ambush, he had to be carefull. "I'm down here" she said when he opened the door. His eyes couldn't believe what he had in front of him. He walked outside, went around the blue box and then back inside. "I know she is..."

"Smaller outside." he comented. His choice of words triggered her, he saw it. She stiffened, just for a second and he was about to ask if she was doing fine but she didn't gave him the time to ask. "You remind me of a friend I've lost." he was about to give her his condolecence but once again she didn't let him talk, it was like she could read his mind. "Is okay, I'm used to that but here. Come."

Hvitserk approached her, and once again The Doctor took his hand and walked him in front of a square object, with colorful moving drawings.

"What is this?" he asked looking at her.

"This, my dear Hvitserk Ragnarsson is what is hidden behind the sky. Do you want to aknowledge what there is outside of this world?" he noticed her eyes were blinking, like all the starts decided to move into her eyes. She looked etheral, out of this world, just like her blue box.

He agreed, why not? He had nothing to do, nothing to loose so he decided to follow her. He would have followed her no matter what and he was fine with it. He had found his Valkyrja.

He walked around the weird looking piece of metal, studying carefully everything. There were letters he couldn't name but at the same time shapes and colors he had seen both in Kattegat and in his travels over the icy seas; there were objects, like mirrors but they never reflected his face but people he had never met. He was fascinated and confused at the same time.

An earthquake shook up the little blue box and he lost balance for a second, finding support on one of the weird object that were surronding the space inside the box. Hvitserk heard her giggle, for a second and then she was back working on whatever there was in the deepths of that box.

"Doctor, so what exactly did you wanted to show me?" he asked still looking around. Everytime he turned he noticed something new and he was curious to find out what it was.

"I wanted to show you..." her head appearing from somewhere below him. "Something amazing, but I need to fix my ship" she commented.

"This doesn't look like a ship at all." he retored and once again he tried to fullfill his curiosity about what she had called a ship.

"Not in the sense of what you are familiar, no is not, but is a different type of ship." she answered back. "is a ship that sails through time and space" she tried to use words he could understand and even if he did know what sail meant, I mean he did that every spring and summer, he couldn't wrap his head around how a thing could sail through time and space. "this ship can go whenever on this Earth and in every time you want: back in the past, or foward in the future."

The future, he wanted to see what the future had in store for him and his brothers. Were they going to realise all their dreams? Were they going to rise the name of their father to fame? Was he going to have a happy life with a good wife and amazing kids?

"Can we go the future? Not that far into that, just a couple of years." he asked, this time is full attention on his Valkyrja. She smiled. A nice and warm smile.

"Sadly the TARDIS doesn't work like that. Is like she gives me a mission everytime I set her gears on. She sents me when I am needed." another word he couldn't understand but he remember what she had told him before do not worry, and he did not.

"So you are needed here?"

"Not really. My ship needs some time to fix herself. I think she decided the safest place to land was in..."

"Kattegat, 818 AD." he stated. She repeated his words. "Why here?" he asked. Kattegat wasn't the safest option, he knew that. Not when the city feared invasions from basically everyone.

"I might know a lot but this is something I can't tell. Maybe this old lady..." prince Hvitserk followed her every move while she was speaking. "...planned our meeting." she joked, laughing at it. But Hvitersker was pretty sure Urd, Verdandi and Skuld had worked their web to let the two of them. The warrior made a note to himself to leave some offerring to the Norns to thank them for this opportunity. "Now, would you mind show me around?"

He didn’t mind, the more Hvitserk Ragnarsson was alongside her, the happier he was.

Roaming around the market’s stalls it was his time to feed her curiosity. Every question she asked he had the answer, well most of the times.

Everything was going on pretty good until his older brother, Ubbe, whistled to get his attention, he really wanted to run back in the forest to avoid uncomfortable questions from him and the younger of the Ragnarssons.

“Ubbe.” He simply said asking with his eyes to not say anything inappropriate. “Ivar.” He added turning to the the younger of the four brothers.

“Who is she?” Asked the older viking. He took her hand in his and gave it a quick peck—he had learned this during a trip in Wessex—making the Doctor giggle.

“Such a gentleman Ubbe Ragnarsson.”

“Thank you my lady.” Was his throw back(?)

After a quick introduction, whit Hvitserk lying about her name being Brynild like one of the Valkyrje, Ivar invited her to have dinner with them so the two of them and their mother could know more about Hvitserk’s new friend.

“I see if I can attend dinner with your family but I won’t promise anything. But thank you for the invite Prince Ivar.” The title feeded his ego more than enough, the younger prince was happy and limped back from where he came with a soft thank you; Ubbe rolled his eyes and after another act of cavalry he followed in tow his brother.

“I’m sorry for them.” Apologized the second born.

“Is okay. I think the TARDIS is ready. Do you want to live an adventure outside the ordinary?” The viking wanted to tell her that just meeting her was out of the ordinary, sure in a positive way, but still out of this world situation.

“Lead the way, my lady.” And with that they went back into the forest, hand in hand. Hvitserk asking more questions and the Gallifreyan never saying a word.

Hvitserk woke up with a strong head pain, memory of what he thought a dream flooding his mind. He pinched the bridge of his nose in an attempt to relieve a little the pain he was feeling, not noticing his brothers, Ubbe and Björn were looking for him.

"Here you are. Queen Aslaugh wants you home." started Björn and without giving him the time to get up he left for Kattegat on his own. Ubbe, on the other side, took a seat next to his brother and with a smirk on his face asked him if he had fun all that time he was missing.

Hvitserk had to lie, nodding his head yes. He didn't know how to explain that he didn't know where she went, and what happened between the two of them, he thought saying they had some private time together was easier.

"How was she? Do you think I can have her one day?"

"I don't think. She told me she found Kattegat by accident" that was not a lie, well not completely. "and besides she has to take care of her family so I don't think she has much free time."

"What a shame. Well, at least you managed to get her. But do tell, was she good?" That was the only thing Ubbe cared to know, then again is about a viking man we are talking about.

Hvisterk rolled his eyes and smacked his brother to his chest, a way to ask him to shut up and that he wasn't going to give him details about it.

Weeks passed and Hvitserk had made it a routine to check the market from the main door of the Great Hall. Watching carefully to see if she was coming back anytime soon.

Then months passed and he realized she was not coming back to Kattegat, he needed to move on. But then it came one day, one beautiful spring day where he saw her, or so he thought, because that woman in the market looking for a pin to use for her hair looked almost ideantical to his Valkyrja. What was more astonoshing was the fact she had fall in love with the prince. Hvitserk decided to take it as a sign from the Gods and after a couple of weeks they got married.

Spending nights together, it was not a surprise to hear his wife giving him the news she was with child and Hvitserk was the happiest to hear it. He had told his brothers first. Björn patted his back, proud of him; Ubbe smirked and laughed at his own words when he said that the little brother had been working hard and Ivar just smiled, happy for his older brother. Then when his mother found out, she decided to throw a party, all Kattegat was welcomed to celebrate the news.

Nine months later, or so, Hvitserk's daughter was born. A beautiful and healty baby girl. Hvitserk looked at her with stars in his eyes, she was going to be his first priority from now on.

"How do you want to call her?" asked one of the women that helped his wife deliver the little girl.

"Brynhildr" he said without esitation. The couple didn't talked about the name but that sounded a good fit for the girl. "I like Brynhildr." he added. He started cooing at his daughter, making her giggle and wrapping her little hand on his big pinky.

"She loves you already." said his wife, a weak giggle leaving her lips. "She is going to be a daddy's girl. Boys will be terrified to ask for her hand" she joked.

"She is going to grow into a fine woman." he commented and gave it back to the one who gave her to him, so that the new addiction to the family could spend time with her mother.

Hvitserk left the little house, taking in the cold weather of the winter season, looking up to the sky he closed his eyes and took a deep breath before opening them again.

"I might not see you again, my Valkyrja, but the memory will be always be with until my very end." Was it then, that his brothers came to take him out to drink. He just had a daughter, it was a good enought reason to celebrate.

[kaivenom]

How the Vikings men would bath with you

Masterlist

Ivar the Boneless

It takes a lot to him to trust you enough to see him naked.

Due to his body, he is very self concious so previously to entering the bath, you need to be sure he will let you in.

It is sure to say this is one of his most vulnerable moments, always expecting you to run away or something.

You position yourself behind him and tun your fingers up and down his back.

Giving him massages and hugging him, trying to reasure him that you are not afraid.

Once he gets used to this time of intimacy, having baths together starts to be a more usual activity.

Ubbe Ragnarson

He got to you side and started rubbing your legs and chest with slow almost sensual motions.

Never breaking eye contact from you, even when is hand dissapeared underwater.

With a nod you invited him to join you and what started with his attempt to seduce you is now a relaxing tradition.

Your back against his chest, connecting fingers and talking about nothing and everything.

Feeling his heartbeat against you is beautiful and calming, he also feels safe while doing this with you.

Dark ambience, small candles iluminating the room.

Hvitserk Ragnarson

The first time he entered by accident and you give him the option to join, obviously he didn't refuse.

Then started to be more often, he judt likes to have you in front of him.

After his travels to Algeciras and the Mediterranean sea, he discovers the roman baths, aromatized soaps, etc.

He is like a child, sometimes splashing you while laughing.

But dont get It wrong, he always treats you like a princess.

Now, when you raid together, he always wanders around the town, trying to know if there is some roman baths or saunas.

Sigurd Ragnarson

I somehow think that he doesn't like to bath so the only way for him to get in water is with you.

He tries to stay as much as posible in the water while you wash his blonde hair but he just makes sarcastic comments, makes weird faces and that.

He tries to splash you like a revenge and you end up having a water bottle.

The only place he likes to be in water is on the lake, but ussually is to cold to be there so... big no.

Not even mentioning that in some particular ocasion he threw you there, obviously you pushed him after.

It's the most fun and risky one to bath with.

Bjorn Ironside

He obviously starts bathing a couple of minutes before you do, that's why you always tell him when you are going to do It.

He has this hope that bathing and spending this time with you will make you reward him.

Bathing in such a small place with such a man, you feel a little overwhelmed.

He doesn't tent to do anything but always wants you to rub and wash him, he finds it relaxing

[axelsagewrites]

Where Am I?*Part Five

Pairing: modern!f!reader x (to be determined...) Ubbe, Ivar, Sigurd, Hviserks, Bjorn

Word count:  1531

Warnings: reader learning archer, sassy bjorn, emotionally complex ivar, threats, time travel, drinking, hangover

Series Summary: After falling head first the reader wakes up face to face with a group of strangely dressed men who look eerily like the vikings she studies

Part one Part two Part three Part four

Masterlist Here

Last night had been the first truly relaxing nights of your stay so far. You drank, sang guitar round a campfire on the beach, learned some Viking songs and tall tales, and now woke up with a splitting hangover. “Time to get up,” Ubbe said as he opened the door.

You just grumbled in response, pulling the covers further over your head. You heard sighing then footsteps then suddenly felt the shivering cold. Ubbe stood grinning over your, “Revenge,” he grinned down at you, offering you a hand.

“Die,” you grumbled, burying your head into the pillow.

You could hear laughter from the door, “Finally becoming one of us,” Ivar, you think, laughed.

“Or worse. she’s becoming like you,” Sigurd’s teasing led to more cursing, some thuds, and Ubbe running to split up some kind of fight as you sat up in bed. This was going to be a long day.

-

“Why do I need to learn this?” you whined as Hvitserk helped you load an arrow onto your bow.

“Well if you like to eat you need to learn how to shoot,” Ubbe said as he and Sigurd leant against a tree to watch your struggles. Ivar was sat just a few feet away on a cut down tree.

all boys were noticeably behind you as they watched the arrow sink into a tree three feet from your target. Hvitserk helped you load another arrow before making the mistake of joking to a very hungover, very fed-up woman. “How are you getting worse?”

You huffed, spinning around still holding the bow making all the boys duck. Even Hvitserk jumped away, “Watch where you point that thing!” Sigurd said, hands covering his face.

“Scared of some little girl?” Ivar laughed. Though it stopped when you turned the arrow at him. He held his hands in the air in mock defence, “I thought we were friends,”

“Don’t test me,” you grumbled, turning back to the target. “This was so much easier on the Wii,”

“What’s a Wii?” you sighed as the four asked in unison. Instead of answering you ignored them, rolling your shoulders back before taking aim again. Breathe in, breathe out, and release.

Thud. The arrow hit the edge of the target. “You’ll get there- “Ubbe tried to speak but you cut him off.

“I did it!” you almost screamed, jumping up and down. “Ha take that!” you said, thrusting the bow up like you’d won the Olympics making the boys laugh.

“Please if we were hunting not only would you scare away the deer, but you only would’ve shot his ankle,” Hvitserk said, as he pulled out another arrow for you to use.

You rolled your eyes as you loaded it yourself this time, all be it with a slight struggle without his wins, “Don’t you guys ever celebrate the small victories?”

“What’s the point of that?” Ubbe asked with all seriousness.

“For motivation? To be happy?” you said, like it was the most obvious thing as you lined up your shot. Breathe in and release. “See!” you said, the arrow now slightly closer to the centre than before, “Positive thinking gets you places,”

“Yeah, like the bottom of a pile of dead bodies,” Ivar chortled.

You turned around with a sickeningly sweet smile, “Would you like to be one of them?”

A small smirk formed on his face as the other boys laughed. You felt Hvitserk place his arm over your shoulder, “Oh you’ll fit in nicely soon enough,”

-

By the end of archery practise you were now able to hit the target each time. Not the centre but still. Progress was there. Then it was there turn to do their real practising. Watching Ivar hit the bullseye with his axe each time as he glared at Sigurd made you thankful guns weren’t invented here. You almost told them about them but even if they were nice to you, you didn’t need to give them anymore ideas.

By the time you got back to Kattegat the sun was beginning to set and dinner was nearly ready. Bjorn joined you once again. Apparently, this was unusual for the Ironborn however it was Hvitserk who told you this and you quickly learned he was a massive gossip. Not that you were complaining. However thankfully for you Ragnar and Aslaug were not joining you. Its not that you didn’t like them, but Ragnar asked you a million question while she had a way of staring through your sole.

Somehow you ended up between him and Ivar and any time someone told a story your legend you didn’t understand he was quick to whisper in your ear. “What lies are you telling her brother?” Bjorn, who was sat across from you, asked as he was telling a story of his latest travels.

“That you truly are as tough as you look,” Hvitserk smirked. Despite not having Ivar’s rage or Sigurd’s instigation, Hvitserk was clearly able to hold his own.

Bjorn hummed disapprovingly before turning back to you, “How unfortunate you travel all this way to be stuck with these fools,” he said, glancing round the table, “Not a real man among them,”

“Maybe,” you said, deciding if you were going to be surrounded by argumentative Vikings you may as well try fit in, “Or maybe we have a different definition of a real man,”

“And what would your definition be?” he asked, putting his elbows on the table, and leaning in closer.

His eyes were locked on yours, so you decided instead to let yours look him up and down before sitting back, “Why? Do you need some lessons on how to be one?”

The younger Ragnorsson’s sniggered while Ubbe watched the whole scene carefully. Your eyes stayed locked on Bjorn’s until he sat back in his chair with a smile, “There’s hope for you yet, little one,” he said before dropping the smile, “Though I don’t recommend questioning me again,” The sight made your blood run cold but you did your best to smile, bringing a cup of wine to your lips as the meal soon continued.

-

Somehow you managed to escape from the brothers while they were distracted by finding a new crate of ale. While drinking wasn’t exactly restricted in university, they drank like it was a sport and there was no way you could keep up.

Even though you now wore a Vikings dress and apron there was some things from home you couldn’t let go of; modern underwear and sleeping in a comfy t-shirt. It was the one you had arrived in though admittedly you were going to have to wash it and your other clothes soon. The issue was that meant asking one of the brothers where or how to wash it and you had no desire for them to see these items. Well not yet at least.

 When you got back to your room you slipped out the starched dress and into the soft cotton shirt and got under your furs about to sleep. Before you could however the door opened. “Ivar?”

“My brothers bore me,” he sighed as he crawled over to your bed. You pulled the furs slightly closer, realising you only had the t-shirt on as your cheeks flushed. Ivar took no notice as he pulled himself up to sit beside you, “You were the only interesting one there,”

“A little flattery goes a long way,” you said but he quirked his head at that, “It’s an expression where I’m from,”

“Is flattery not a good thing?” he asked.

You shrugged, “Depends. My professor told me flattery and insults raise the same question; what do you want? Though I think he stole that from someone,”

“Well, all I want is your company,” he answered and at rare moments when you were alone Ivar didn’t look blood thirsty and terrifying. In fact, he seemed kind of gentle as he let a small smile escape. You couldn’t help letting out a light laugh, “Though I don’t understand how someone can steal words,”

Again, you shrugged, “I guess our people just value different things,” you said as a silence washed over you both.

After a few moments Ivar broke it, “I don’t think so. I think, deep down, all we all want is to be safe,” he said it quietly, as if he was worried someone may eaves drop.

It broke your heart a little though, “I suppose but I would’ve said happy,”

“Happy is a dangerous emotion,” he said, staring off into the distance, “everyone craves it, so they chase it, but they assume there is only so much of it to go around so they steal it. I do not need to be happy. Just content,”

You weren’t sure why you grabbed his hand, but you gave it a soft squeeze. His cheeks tinged pink, but you pretended not to notice, “I think content is a different kind of happy. Maybe if we were all so content with it, we could all be happy,”

“Maybe,”

“It’s a dangerous word,” you said.

Ivar snorted, “How can a word be dangerous?”

“How can happiness be?” you shot back with a small smile.

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[ubbesbabymama]

Their friend is pregnant, pt. 2.

↳ Pairing. Hvitserk The Berserker, Sigurd Snake in The Eye, Ivar The Boneless.

↳ Summary. How would they react to their dear friend being pregnant. [I imagine this with them having the same kind of friendship that Ragnar had with Athelstan but with the reader].

↳ Warnings. Violence, death, abusive relationships, smut/mention of sex.

↳ Note. A second part so I could write the ones that are left because is just so much fun to write this plot.

Part one.

Hvitserk The Berserker.

He adores you, he genuinely thinks you’re the only perfect person on earth and he would do anything to protect you from anybody, even himself.

He is busy between a thrall’s legs, making everything in his power to make her scream his name, thrusting like a madman when he hears his name being called and he stops right away. That’s not the thrall’s voice.

“Hvitserk,” You sob and he can’t help but to pull out and push the woman, running to you while fixing his pants.

“Come here, come here,” He mumbles, taking you in his arms and walking to another room that doesn’t smell like sex.

He sits on the floor in front of a bonfire with you on his lap, and you move around till your legs are around him just like he is around you. You move again and he grunts.

“D-Don’t move too much,” He whispers.

“O-Oh! I’m sorry, forgive—,” You try to move but he grips your thighs. “Hvitserk.”

“Forget everything else and tell me why are you crying,” He says. “Talk to me.”

“Why do I have to talk to you while your cock is poking into my backside?” You ask him and he grunts again, this time because of your stubbornness.

“That is because I got interrupted while I was getting it down, now, talk to me or I am going to take my axe and go look for the information myself.” He threatens.

You sigh and clean your face a little before looking at him.

“I am with child.”

“That’s not true,” He chuckles and panics when your eyes start to fill with tears, and he takes your face in his hands. “Wait— no, no, no sweat heart.”

“Y-You don’t believe me either,” You sob in his hands and he shakes his head.

“I thought it was another one of your pranks, I apologize little one,” You nod, sobbing. He frowns. “Either?”

“He kicked me out of the house… literally,” You whisper, rolling your dress to show him your scratched knees, you show him your hands and they’re scratched too. “He said I cheated on him, that a whore like me could find a man to breed me really fast just so I could trap—,”

You stop talking when Hvitserk moves you around, standing up and taking you with him. He puts his hand on the small of your back to guide you out of the room and back to his room. In silence he takes off your dirty dress and tosses it to the side, he looks around for a moment and comes back with a shirt of him, he helps you put it on.

“I’m going to be right back, get under the covers,” He quietly says, you shake your head, and he sighs. “Under the covers, please.”

“You’re going to kill him.” You whisper.

“Of course, I’m going to kill him, for starters, I gave you that house, he has no right to kick you out, and second, while you’re with child?” He snorts with malice.

“Hvitserk,” He looks at you and holds your stare to let you know that he is not backing down. You nod to yourself and kiss his cheek. “I’ll wait for you awake.”

You know he is back when some thralls enter the room with the tub, he enters right behind them and you gasp, he is bathed in blood, from the hair to his boots.

“What in Odin’s green earth did you do to him?!” You ask alarmed, he shrugs and starts to take his clothes off in front of you and the thralls. “Hvitserk!”

“I tied him to a tree and started beating him,” He looks up slowly, his eyes cold. “I beat him till his last breath.”

“You’re insane,” You whisper, getting out of bed when he gets inside the tub. You start to undo his braids.

“For you, I can be worse than Ivar, you know this already.” He chants, not a single trace of regret on his face.

“Yeah well, you killed the abusive father of my child,” You roll your eyes. “So it’s safe to say that you’re now a father.”

He smirks.

“Great.”

Sigurd Snake In The Eye.

Everybody could see how much you mean to him, it was as obvious as the fact that the sun would shine every day. When it comes to you he knows no reason or shame, going as far as to beg if he needs to.

“I-I can’t find her,” He murmurs when all his brothers are gathered to hunt.

“Who?” Ubbe asks.

“What do you mean you can’t find her? It’s almost as if you live together,” Hvitserk jokes.

“I think her husband has something to do with her suddenly disappearing.” He swallows and just now everybody feels the tension in the air. “I-I need help, please.”

Suddenly Ivar starts crawling away and everybody looks at him, he stops and looks back directly at Sigurd.

“What are you doing there? We have to find her.” He grunts and in no time Sigurd is by his side.

That’s how much you mean to Sigurd, so much that even his younger brother whom he always argues about anything not dare to joke around.

And he finds you, in a small cabin deep in the woods, thanks to Hvitserk’s insight in the town he founds that your husband owns this cabin for when he goes hunting alone.

He enters the cabin and sucks a breath when he sees you in a corner hugging your legs. He takes one step and your husband comes out and pulls you by the hair, you yelp.

“If you get close I will kill them both!” He screams and Sigurd frown.

“Who’s them?” He whispers to himself, and you sob.

“You didn’t tell him? You’re carrying his child and you didn’t—,”

“Because it’s not his!” You cry, looking at Sigurd and his stare makes you stop trembling a little. You’re safe, Sigurd is here.

Suddenly an arrow enters from behind Sigurd, right on top of his head, and embedded right onto your husband’s head, him being so tall makes it easy for the archer to shoot without fearing it would hit you.

Sigurd looks behind him and nods to Ubbe, who just nods back and starts walking back with his brother, leaving him with you.

He opens his arms and watches how you run and jump on him, his arms sliding around you, one on your thigh and the other on your waist.

“I’m here now, shh…” He comforts you while walking till he leans on a wall. “Nobody can’t hurt you anymore.”

You sob on his neck and he hums.

“I’m tired,” You murmur and he nods.

He takes you back to the town and directly into his room and orders the thralls to prepare a bath for you. When everything’s ready he undresses you and lets you get inside the tub, he’s about to start looking for clothes for you but your grip on his hand stops him.

“I’m not going anywhere, I’m getting in with you,” He says to calm you down and when he sees you expectant he undresses and gets inside too, behind you.

He starts to caress your belly, he supposed you haven’t seen your monthly blood and that’s why you know you’re with child since it’s not clear in your belly.

“You’re going to start living here,” He whispers in your ear. “So I can take care of you better.”

“You have obligations,” You whisper.

“And you’re the main one,” He hums. “Yes?”

“Yes.”

Ivar The Boneless.

Nobody understands how you can stand Ivar, with the man being borderline obsessed with you. The only reason why you can lay with men is that he is certain that he can’t satisfy a woman and he would rather be burned alive than disappoint you from all people, but other than that, he lets no man get close to you unless you directly tell him that you chose that man to warm your chambers, he has bodyguards for you, thralls for you, he gives you a quarter of everything he owns or gets. Even when he goes raiding everybody knows that a lot of the goods are yours and yours only. That’s how obsessed Ivar The Boneless is with you.

Of course, it’s almost impossible to hide things from him, more so with the people in town being so eager to bring him information about you just to be favored, so as soon as you’re being yelled at and tossed around by the Viking Ivar is notified.

“You think after three times you can already be with child?! Do you think I’m stupid?!” The man was yelling at you, but you weren’t backing down. No sir.

“After ONE time of laying together, I can already be with child, or do you think your seed is so weak you need more than once? even more than three? Poor you.” You mock and gasp when he pushes you, making you fall onto your backside, you whimper at the burn in your hands for breaking the fall.

“I should just kill you and that bastard right now!” He yells, and you spit on your side in response.

“Who?” You freeze, feeling chills run down your spine. That voice only means problems, and a lot of them. “Who are you going to kill? My woman?”

You feel him right beside you, leaning on his crutch. He looks down at you and nods and you nod back, slowly standing up.

“L-Lord I-Ivar,” The man stuttered.

“So? You’re going to kill my woman, you say?” Ivar says, his tone friendly but his eyes, oh those eyes.

“N-no, no my lord,” The man keeps stuttering. “It’s this woman who says she’s carrying my child.”

Ivar face snaps to the side, looking at you while anger starts to bubble in his system, a burning feeling in his chest, he squints his eyes at you and silently you start to pray to the gods for the life of the man.

“When I was hunting and you were keeping me company, that was your last month bleeding, right?” Ivar says and he’s not actually asking, he knows that information, for he’s the one you always go to when you’re in pain, but you nod anyways. “And he pushed you while you’re carrying a child?”

You nod again.

“Yes, Ivar.” The man grimaces when he hears you call Ivar by his name and without honorifics, why nobody told him he was laying with someone so important? “He did.”

Ivar’s face slowly turns to the man, and he grins.

“Now I have to decide whether you die—,”

“Ivar can I—,” You start but are interrupted.

“NO!” He snaps, pointing at you with his finger. “You do not get to save him from this, you do not get a saying this time!”

“Ivar,” Your own anger makes you grind your teeth. “Can I go home? My feet are hurting and I need to get a healer for my hands.”

He blinks and looks down at your bloody hands from the fall before, he sighs, feeling bad at the way he talked to you when you weren’t even trying to help the man.

“I’ll finish this quickly,” Ivar says and in the blink of an eye, the man is being dragged by Ivar’s men while crying and babbling apologies.

You don’t let Ivar say anything more and start walking home and when you get there you ask for a healer and after being done with your hands and a quick checkup on your overall health you ask for a hot bath.

“It’s ready, my lady,” The thrall says just in time for Ivar’s entrance, she gasps and starts to tremble.

“You can go now, don’t come back again, you may take the tub out tomorrow,” You whisper tiredly.

Ivar is covered in blood and even you get a chill run down your spine. It looks grotesque, never has he had so much blood on him from just one person, he looks demonic even.

“I’m—,” He starts but you lift your hand.

“I honestly don’t want to hear it,” You murmur, starting to get undressed.

He looks at you with attention, watching you moan when the hot water gets in contact with your skin.

“I’m sorry.” He finishes what he was saying earlier and you roll your eyes.

“I’m with child, I got pushed by the father of the child and then he got killed by you and I imagine it was in the most animalistic way you could think of,” You tell him coldly. “I’m tired, I didn’t need you snapping at me when I was the one being mistreated, you may go now if that’s going to happen again.”

“I’m sorry.” It’s all he says, he looks emotionless, his voice too. But you know that those words coming out of Ivar’s mouth is already a blessing.

“I don’t want to talk to you.”

“I’m not leaving.” He says, crawling more closer.

“You look scary.”

“I’ll get clean after you tell me how are you,” He whispers and you sigh.

“What am I going to do now?” You whisper to him, getting close to him.

“Nothing, you don’t need to do anything,” He whispers. “Just let me take care of you. Both of you.”

“You already do that,” You smile.

He smiles and leans, giving you a soft kiss although you could tell it doesn’t mean anything more.

“Yes I do, until the gods call me to Valhalla.”

[undiscovered-horizon]

"She is not a bird" - Hvitserk x Reader

SUMMARY: In Eddas, every great warrior falls in love with a Valkyrie - a winged goddess equally beautiful and imposing. Hvitserk finds his after a battle as she's stitching wounds and bringing comfort to those who will not see another dawn.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 2k

In a colourful dress, she busses around, Time and time she turns her head, gives a smile, You could swear you saw her wings yesterday, How she hid them under the dress, But she’s not a bird, Can’t you see? She is not a bird.

Hvitserk has no interest in medicine or healing. Despite that, he has found himself watching one of the healers as she’s running back and forth between beds. She’s been at it for hours now and Hvitserk begins to wonder how come she’s not tired yet. Her feet and hands are equally quick as they had been when they arrived at the camp after the battle. The mesmerising glint in her eyes, something between curiosity and adoration, is still just as bright. Whenever one of the wounded warriors wants to talk to her, she sits at the edge of their bed. Her head nods gently before her lips curl into a reassuring smile and she says something in return. Maybe she’ll even chuckle at something. From where he’s standing, Hvitserk can’t make out her words but he can quite clearly see the faces of the people she’s talking to and it makes his curiosity consume him entirely to know what words turn agony into peace.

Lost in his own thoughts, the young Viking doesn’t notice jarl Friedgeir approaching him. 

“Enchanting, isn’t she?” he asks with a smirk. He’s seen this scenario one too many times to have any doubts about what Hvitserk is thinking about. Friedgeir himself has been in that very same position before.

Friedgeir Esrason is nimble for his age. White and silver hair circles his tired face like a halo. Sun-damaged skin makes him appear even older, although fuller of life. It’s a testimony of long days spent on adventures, seeing what the world has to offer. Despite nearing grandfather’s age, his torso is broad and his arms are about the size of a shieldmaiden’s thigh. Brass bracelets clink every time he moves his hands. The purple material of his tunic is clearly worn out, tearing in places of the most friction.

“She is,” Hvitserk admits.

Jarl puts his heavy hand on Hvitserk’s shoulder. For a moment, the young warrior wonders if Friedgeir could actually crush his bones should he squeeze his fingers a little tighter. 

“Can I entrust a secret to you, son of Ragnar?” Friedgeir asks in a low tone. His grey eyes look around the two of them as though expecting to find a prying set of ears. Everyone besides them appeared too preoccupied with their own duties and worries to care about the gossip shared between the Jarl and the famous Lothbrok boy.

Hvitserk looks at the older man with a frown.

“My brothers and I have risked our lives for your cause, Jarl Friedgeir,” he reminds the ruler. “I have no interest in breaking your trust. You know that already.”

“Good.” Friedgeir pats Hvitserk’s shoulder. He must be unaware of his strength as the gentle slaps are actually quite forceful, making Hvitserk answer his own question about crushing bones. Friedgeir can definitely turn someone’s skeleton into dust with a squeeze. “My wife mustn’t ever hear what I’m about to tell you. That girl…” he makes a pause and points his finger at the healer, “I think she might be a bird.”

Taken aback, Hvitserk looks up and down the Jarl.

“Did the Swedes hit you on the head?” he asks half-heartedly.

“I wish it was that. But no.” Friedgeir laughs bitterly and shakes his head. A shadow of melancholy flies past his sun-damaged face only to reside inside his silver eyes as a teary glint. “I always knew there was something strange about her but I came to understanding only after seeing the great viziers of the East and their pets locked in golden cages.”

Hvitserk glances towards the healer. His eyes follow her like hawk in hopes of some enlightenment that would make Friedgeir’s words clearer to him. Alas, she appears as she did before - enticing and human.

He shakes his head.

“I don’t understand.”

The Jarl lets out a sigh.

“Just look, dear Hvitserk. See the colourful dress like a parrot’s feathers.” Hvitserk has never heard of something called a parrot, so he is left to assume that they must look nothing like the birds in Norway. “And look at men’s faces when she talks to them. Pain and suffering change into hope and peace. The only time I’ve seen that was when one of the viziers asked his angry guests to listen to his oriole singing. After an hour, no one remembered what they were fighting about.”

Time as if slows down as Hvitserk is watching the healer sit on the edge of a cot belonging to a dying man. She holds his hand tightly and tirelessly wipes cold sweat from his forehead. The warrior is stuttering, fever and pain making his wants incomprehensible. The woman sitting beside him only nods her head, offering a warm smile and a short response. Soon, the man falls limp. His eyes turn blank as his head rolls lifelessly to the side. The healer squeezes the corpse’s hand and only then gets up to continue her work. A pair of healthy warriors wrap up the body in blankets only to carry it away, to the place where a great pyre will burn after nightfall.

Hvitserk is more intelligent than the jarl. More perceptive. He’s seen geese flying southwards when winter was coming, only to come back after snow thaws. But not her - she stayed until the warriors’ skin turned cold and grey. Let go of dead hands only after the heart stopped, never earlier.

“She’s not a bird,” the young Lothbrok speaks up. Friedgeir looks at him curiously. “Can’t you see?��� he asks with a chuckle on his tongue. “She must be a Valkyrie, leading fallen warriors to the gates of Odin's hall.”

The Jarl only nods slowly, pondering Hvitserk’s words. 

“If she is, perhaps death isn’t a too high price to be by her side.”

But he’s too young to be this patient and Hvitserk has to find a reason to be beside her now.

You’re taken aback when someone suddenly takes the wooden crate from your hands. The unexpected helper reveals himself to be none other but Hvitserk with a playful grin on his face. Despite giving all he could in the battle, just hours prior, he appears to still be vigorous as though the fight was a mere warm-up.

The man puts the heavy crate on his shoulder, securing it with one arm. What has given you backpain and cold sweat, seems like no chore to him. The Ragnarsons really are a different strain.

“Where do you want this?” he asks casually.

“At the pyre.” You point in the vague direction of where the bodies will be burned. “Illness thrives within the old, used dressings.”

Hvitserk begins wandering to the place you have pointed out and, not sure why, you begin to follow him. His strides are long and sure, his breathing calm and steady. He hardly fits the image of a man who had to fight like a rabid dog to survive just earlier that day.

“Are you not tired afer the battle?” you ask him. Confusion slips past your words.

“I am.” Hvitserk glances at you. It’s a quick look but you manage to notice him staring you up and down. “But I thought you might need help. You’ve been tending to the wounded for hours.”

A melodic, light chuckle escapes your lips.

“You’ve been watching me?”

His playful half-grin turns into a genuine smile. Staring at the road ahead, he almost looks bashful.

“I have a habit of admiring enticing things,” Hvitserks admits.

You feel your cheeks burning at the nonchalant compliment but you don’t let him notice that. Neither do you let his sweet words distract you.

“Then you must lead a busy, beautiful life.”

The man’s voice seems faraway and absent as he answers, as though his mind is suddenly occupied with vivid daydreams:

“Not yet.”

The noise of the camp is inaudible now. Only pine trees and wild berries accompany Hvitserk and you. A murder of crows suddenly takes flight as you pass by. Their cawing echoes through the empty forest.

You can’t quite put a finger on this sensation but something about Hvitserk makes you feel warm and calm inside. It’s the same feeling one experiences when sitting in front of a warm hearth after spending long hours in the cold. When the blood begins flowing again and the relief of not freezing to death is forgotten, the warmth and safety make one sleepy and giddy. But how can a man make you feel the same as a fireplace on a cold night?

Hvitserk sets the crate down with a low thud. The sound shakes you awake from your thoughts. A strong, putrid smell of blood, fresh wood and animal fat fills your nostrils. Even after all those years, it never gets easier to prepare people for their final journey.

“Thank you,” you begin awkwardly. Some more anxious part of you is suddenly terrified that he will somehow learn of your thoughts about him. “I don’t know if I could have carried it by myself all the way here.”

His lips curve into a sly grin and you can tell he’s about to weave a string of charming words but something about him distracts you instantly. Hvitserk’s shirt, once greyish-beige, is now brown and crimson. Not thinking much, you suddenly grab his arm. He doesn’t even get a chance to protest when you roll up his sleeve to reveal a, re-opened wound.

“Your hand is bleeding,” you state.

Hvitserk is unsure whether your stern gaze scares him or excites.

“It’s nothing.”

He tries to roll his sleeve back down but you swat his arm away. Pushing down on his shoulder, you force him to sit down on the ground with you.

“Well, it’s definitely going to scar,” you say quietly as you inspect the deep cut in his skin. “But the good news is, some women like men with scars. I know I do.”

You take out a sewing needle made from animal bone. For practicality, you’re used to wearing it pinned somewhere in your clothing. After all, one can never know when they might need it like when a handsome, charming Viking suddenly needs his wound stitched. Gods work in mysterious ways, truly…

A drop of blood drips from the wound each time you push the needle through the pale skin. Hvitserk is impressively collected - he only grunts a few times and clenches his teeth. 

“All done,” you whisper more to yourself than him. In a quick, mechanical manner you wipe the skin of his arm again and roll down the sleeve of his shirt. 

You’re standing up when Hvitserk decides he’s not quite done being the apple of your eye:

“How hurt does a man have to be for you to stay around longer?”

As though he didn’t just get stabbed eigh times in his cut and bruised arm, he’s staring at you with than same insufferable mischieviousness that you’ve grown to love so much. Sometimes you wonder whether this is exactly the reason he’s never had trouble charming women.

“A broken rib would do it,” you say with a shrug. “Or you could just ask.”

Suddenly, Hvitserk jumps to his feet. A newfound fire is burning inside him - a flame known only to those, whose affections are returned.

“Please?”

Jokingly, you frown at him.

“I didn’t know the Lothbroks knew such words,” you say in a surprised tone.

You feel his fingers dragging up your arm until his palm gently brushes against your cheek. The skin of his hand is dry and calloused, standing in a stark opposition to its owner.

“We hold it for special occasions.” Hvitserk’s voice is low, almost raspy.

“And me standing here is somehow special?”

“You don’t even know,” he whispers. His breath is hot against your cheeks. But how can a man make you feel the same as a fireplace on a cold night?

“Then tell me.”

At that moment, he knows he will have his entire life to remind you just how special you are to him; he will have his whole saga to love a Valkyrie.

[hashnna]

Husband; Hvitserk.

Sinopse: Você e seu futuro marido ainda tem muitas coisas a fazer antes do casamento.

Notas: Ok, eu tive um mini surto a tarde e cá estamos 🤓 o que posso fazer se amo esse cara.

Avisos: Conteúdo sexual, sexo oral, sangue(apenas um machucadinho no dedo),eventos aqui antes do retorno de Ragnar(4° temporada).

 Hvitserk já está a alguns bons minutos te observando, embora você ainda não tenha percebido, tão distraída que está, sentada sobre um tronco, as costas apoiadas na árvore grande que colabora com a sombra confortável da floresta. A aquele horário da tarde, ainda era confortável estar no meio da floresta sem que sentisse medo por estar sozinha.

 Em seu colo está um tecido bonito de um tom branco suave, ao seu lado está a cesta de palha onde repousa outra peça de tecido com um tom um pouco mais puxado para o dourado, você costura distraidamente o vestido que, de acordo com seus planos, será usado em seu casamento com um dos filhos de Ragnar.

 Hvitserk havia te pedido para ser sua esposa, inicialmente, teve certeza de que era uma decisão impulsiva dele ou que estava apenas brincando, mas, quando Hvitserk simplesmente foi direto até seu pai, com a certeza de que queria casar com você, e provou isso pedindo sua mão ao homem na sua frente...você realmente se convenceu.

 Seu pai, um dos navegadores fieis de Ragnar, havia participado de várias invasões ao lado do Rei, desde quando era apenas conde e antes de sumir após o acontecido em Paris. De cara, o mais velho não gostou da ideia, não por ter algum problema com o príncipe, mas por achar que era muito cedo para que sua filha se casasse, e cedo para que o Lothbrok quisesse um compromisso tão sério, o achava imaturo para isso. 

 Mas bem, Hvitserk nunca esteve tão firme em uma decisão. Você era um pouco mais nova que ele e, durante toda a adolescência, ele não conseguia tirar os olhos de você, principalmente quando acompanhava sua mãe e irmã mais velha até o grande salão, quando sua mãe ia ver Aslaug, de quem a mulher era consideravelmente próxima.

 Bem, você aceitou. É claro, por quê recusaria? Os dois haviam se aproximado muito ao longo dos anos e em poucos dias veio um beijo, depois outro e outro. Até que estava passando algumas noites na cabana sozinha com ele, montada nele ou com o corpo suado dele sobre o seu.

 — Acho que não devia estar vendo você fazer o vestido.

 A voz repentina de seu futuro marido um pouco às suas costas te fez saltar, inevitavelmente espetando a agulha no dedo sem querer.

 — Hvitserk! - reclamou, o encarando por cima do ombro enquanto ele caminhava até estar ao seu lado, se agachando à sua frente e alcançando sua mão.

 — Desculpa - ele ainda tem um tom risonho no rosto mesmo com uma leve culpa pelo susto que te deu, ele encarou o sangue manchando seu dedo, segurando sua mão e levando seu dígito aos próprios lábios.

 — A quanto tempo você 'tava aqui? - questiona, encara os olhos verdes brilhantes dele, nunca viu homem mais bonito em toda a sua vida, tem certeza disso, Hvitserk tem o rosto mais lindo que você já viu.

— Não sei - Deu de ombros selando o dorso de sua mão antes de soltá-la, ainda sentindo o gosto de seu sangue na língua dele. — Me distraí olhando pra você. Você é bonita demais.

 Sorriu tímida, as bochechas ficaram coradinhas, desviou os olhos dos dele, tirando o tecido de seu colo e o levando de volta à cesta junto com a agulha e a linha. 

 — Achei que você estivesse com seus irmãos - dá de ombros, volta a olhá-lo, fingindo ignorar as mãos dele afastando sua saia, expondo suas coxas.

 — Nah, eles não são tão divertidos. 

 A sua risada o faz sorrir também, se abaixa a altura de duas pernas, sela seu joelho devagar, sobe alguns selinhos, beija suas coxas, ficando entre suas pernas.

 — Prefiro ficar aqui com minha futura esposa - comenta, afastando mais suas pernas sem vergonha alguma. — Quer saber? Mal posso esperar pra te ouvir me chamar de marido.

 — Bom - Dá de ombros, um tom inocentemente bobo, sem vergonha alguma ao ter a cabeça do loiro entre suas coxas, quase em sua intimidade descoberta. — Nós já estamos quase casados, mesmo - seus dedos se entrelaçam entre os fios dele, não se importa de bagunçar as tranças que prendem os cabelos longos. — Eu já posso te chamar de marido.

 — É? - ele levanta os olhinhos travessos, te olhando enquanto agarra suas coxas, te puxa um pouco para frente. — chama, então.

 — Hm... - Suspira, sente a língua dele lamber sua intimidade. — Marido...marido, marido! - Você ri, o sente sorrir contra sua buceta antes que a língua morna se ocupe totalmente em deslizar entre seus lábios, desce até sua entradinha. — Hvi...

 Suas mãos seguram a cabeça dele onde está, arfa, geme sem se importar com o volume, a língua dele te lambendo inteirinha te deixa molinha, sequer consegue fingir ou fazer doce, não quando está nas mãos do viking.  

 — Marido... 

 As mãos dele agarram firme suas coxas, deixa a marca dos dedos na pele, aproveita seu gostinho, aprecia cada reação sua, a forma como apoia as costas na árvore, os olhinhos fechados e os lábios abertinhos soltando aqueles gemidos melosinhos que hvitserk é completamente apaixonado. A mão esquerda sobe por sua cintura, agarra seu seio por cima do vestido, os mamilos eriçados se espremem contra a palma da mão dele. 

 A outra mão agora vai até seu íntimo, se junta aos lábios na intenção de te comer, enfia dois dígitos em seu canalzinho sem pressa alguma, sentindo seu sexo apertar em volta dos dedos dele.

 Ele afasta seu vestido, expõe os seios bonitos sem se importar com o nó do decote que se partiu no processo. Os dígitos em sua intimidade iniciam um ritmo constante agora, te faz escorrer, o sonzinho molhado do ato deixa Hvitserk zonzo. 

 Sua pele parece pegar fogo, o vestido incomoda seu corpo, tão quente você está, seu estômago revira, as coxas se apertam em volta da cabeça do Lothbrok, repete a palavra "marido" mais algumas vezes como se tivesse acabado de descobrir que o termo te incendeia como nunca, goza nos dedos dele, revira os olhos fechadinhos sob as pálpebras.

 Hvitserk sorri, aquele risinho sacana dele que te deixa fraquinha, quando ele levanta, ficando de joelhos entre suas pernas você o puxa para perto, iniciando um beijo afoito, o gosto de sua buceta está por toda a boca dele, nos lábios, na língua esperta, na barba. 

 Sorri travessa quando ele quebra o beijo, morde os lábios vermelhinhos enquanto suas mãos agarram o cordão da calça dele, desfazendo o nó.

Vocês tem definitivamente muita coisa a fazer antes do casamento.

Notas finais: tô desgraçadissima da cabeça gente-

[underscorewriting]

Hello !

How are you doing?

Could you make a one shot where your the ragnarsons little sister ( your 5 yrs old and ragnar and a witches daughter ) and they don't know you exist but you come with bjorn from a raid and you meet them andyou just capture everyones heart .

And you give hope to the people of kattegat because you are a powefull witch and they think you are a god

Maybe they find out your powers when you save someone from death with your powers?

Thank you!

Oh my god, I love that idea!! Sorry that it took me sooo long to write this, but here it is now!! ^^ I kinda changed it a bit, hopefully you don't mind too much!! :)

The lost daughter

Brother!Ragnarssons x Sister!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Sigurd being a dick, Angst?

Words: 2.414 (think this one's my longest story!!)

Emotions were all she ever knew. Bad ones, painful ones. She didn't understand why she felt them so intense, whenever something happened. People usually got hurt very badly if she got upset. A little girl that could kill people in the most torturous way possible, without even having to move a single finger or having the thought in mind.

The town she lived in always said that her "witch" of a mother was the reason behind this cursed child. They tried hurting her but she ran, she ran straight into a group of men. No not just men, women were there too. Women she couldn't help but stare at. None of the people in her town looked like them.

Her town was called Wessex, rumors were that in the earlier years, vikings have already been there, even had a deal with the great king Ecgberht. But that was years ago, way before the little girl was even born.

The man in front of the group smirked slightly before he leaned down to her height. "Now who might you be? You wouldn't know where a witch named Meredith lives, would you?" The man studied her features, each one identical to her mothers, except the ocean blue eyes. A feature left from her father.

Taking a step back she tripped over her own leg only to be caught by the man in front of her. He wore his hair in a braid and his beard was longer than she ever saw anyone wear. His eyes didn't hold any danger in them, maybe curiosity, but nothing she had to be scared of. Calming her nerves slightly she stood up straight again.

"witch?" She tilted her head confused, not understanding what that word really meant, only hearing it when someone insulted her mother. Her eyebrows furrowed in anger. "My momma was no witch! She was a healer and helped lots of people!" Pushing away from him, she heard something snap behind the man.

A man holding his arm, which was twisted in a weird angle. The man was screaming in pain as his legs twisted as well, painfully bringing him to his death. It took the little girl some time to snap out of her emotions and look over to the man, only to gasp at the state of the man.

Covering her eyes quickly with her hands she turned away, a quiet sob escaping her. The other men gasped in fear, she had to be blessed by the gods they thought. "By the gods it is true!" The man with the braid laughed and pulled her into his chest. "You are coming home with us, little one. Bet you want to meet your family!" Peeking through her fingers she nervously chewed her lip. She wasn't sure if she could trust him, but her momma once told her a story about a man she could always trust if he ever came to her. A man named Ragnar Lothbrok.

The man, who was carrying her, didn't look exactly how her mother explained, but his icy blue eyes reminded her of him. "Are you Ragnar Lothbrok?" Her voice came out in a whisper as she held onto him. A laugh rumbled in his chest as he put her down on the boat. "I am his son, Björn Ironside. My father and I were often here in Wessex, he met a woman, a healer he used to tease by calling her a witch, they shared a bed and later on rumors spread, that she was with his child. You. I am your brother, we're going to Kattegat, our fathers home. Our home."

Confusion settled in the little girls chest, she didn't fully believe him, but somehow she thought she could trust him. The hope of having a family battling the fear of getting killed or worse.

They traveled for months on no end, the little witch started to enjoy the sea. She learned many things thanks to her brother. The gods became her favorite topic, next to her having four more brothers back at home. Giggling she ran over to Björn. "Brother! When will we arrive?" Excitement settled in her bones as she held onto his hand, looking up to him with wide eyes. Björn couldn't help but smile slightly at how excited she was. "We will arrive soon, look."

When she looked into the distant she saw land becoming bigger, they were close, just about to reach it. She was nervous, he had warned her about how different each brother is, but she was excited. Excited to see a family she longed for. Excited for a land that would also belong to her in some way.

As they arrived she was nervous, people looked at her weirdly, making her scared that she might hurt someone. Björn was walking in the front with her, three men waiting for them in a big hall. The girl had already heard a lot about them and could easily tell who each one of them was. But one wasn't here, she was disappointed.

The men looked at Björn confused. "Welcome home, brother. I see you did not return alone, who is that child?" Ubbe smiled slightly walking up to them. "She's our sister. Father laid with a woman from Wessex, she was a healer I got to know her a bit." The little girl started fidgeting with her hands, trying to release some of her stress. Ubbes eyes found hers, she could only see kindness in them.

A chuckle came from where the other two stood, the blonde man laughing at how ridicules this sounded. "Be serious, brother. You couldn't possibly believe something that stupid." Sigurd was being gruesome, looking at the child in disgust at how her clothes looked. She was no child of Ragnar for him. she didn't look like one either. Sneering he gave her one last glare as he walked away.

Biting her lip she looked to the ground, counting the seconds and minutes so she could calm down. A sigh came from the other three men. Hvitserk slowly made his way towards her kneeling down so he was her height. A smile forming on his face as he studied her eyes, the blue reminding him of his little brother. Even the white in her eyes was a little blue.

„Looks like Ironsides is telling the truth.“. A grin spread on Hvitserk face as he stood up straight. Soon there was a clicking sound to be heard. Ivar came into the great hall, wondering what all the noise is about, having only heard parts of it. „Gods would you just keep it down, Hvitserk.“

Fear settled in her stomach, she was terrified of meeting Ivar ever since Björn told her all the stories about him. When her eyes finally met his she couldn't help but flinch. His eyes matched hers the most. They were almost identical and a giddy smile formed on her face, before she could stop herself. With him it was the clearest that he was her brother. "I heard Sigurd whine about our brother having found some bastard child from father, that couldn't seriously be his..."

Ivar leaned down towards the little girl, tilting his head slightly, inspecting her, before grinning like a lunatic. "But as I see she looks more like a child of Ragnar than he does." Hvitserk laughed and Ubbe couldn't help but grin a little at Ivars statement. All of them were nervous for his reaction, since he was the hardest to please, but somehow her eyes made him realize it the quickest.

The little girl couldn't believe how easy they all accepted her and included her in everything. Everyone except Sigurd. He spread the rumors of her having some powers, but instead of making the people be disgusted of her they started admiring her, bringing her brothers gifts for her. Every person in Kattegat thought she was a god. How couldn't she be? A child of the great Ragnar Lothbrok, it was about time one of them had to become a god.

Even her brothers sometimes believed it, but they also soon learned that her power held a lot of danger. Ivar was the first to notice that her eyes, like his, told in what situation her powers would be. If they were blue in the whites, then it was dangerous for her to interact with a lot of people meaning, keeping her with Ubbe and Hvits would be the wisest decision. Of course they trusted Ivar with her, but most of the times Ivar himself was somewhat worried about upsetting her too much.

On her good days she would walk with her crippled brother through the market, helping him get things and later on hearing about all the adventures he went on. She wouldn't tell but she did like him the best, since he understood her the most. Ubbe was a close second. Björn left for another raid soon after he brought her to the others, which sandend her the most was that he didn't even say goodbye.

She loved her brothers very much, even Sigurd. Ivar was very protective of her when it came to him. He was never allowed too close to her or to be alone with her. It was rare that Ivar cared that much, but he knew how cruel Sigurd could be if he wanted to, and he didn't want her to go through the same things he himself went through.

During a feast late at night she sat with her brothers, giggling and laughing as Hvitserk told her the funniest stories and Torvi braiding her hair, she felt whole. Ivar was sitting in the throne looking over the people, seeing how they looked at his sister in fear, he liked that they feared her even if they thought she was a god, but he also knew how it upset her that they avoided her at all costs when she was close.

Sigurd hated everything about her actually being treated like all of his brothers, like an actual child of Ragnar even though Ragnar himself never even knew her. On this particular night he drank one too many cups of ale and his company wouldn't stop talking about how great her powers are and how she was the hope for the people in Kattegat. The hate he felt for Ivar was nothing compared to the hate he felt for her. It made him see red, he got up and walked straight up to her as she was wandering around the hall, looking at different things.

Ivar was watching her carefully, making sure nothing could happen. Sigurd grabbed her arm forcefully making her stop and turn towards him, a gasps escaped her. Looking up to him she gave him an excited smile. "Brother! Are you enjoying the feast? Ubbe said I may not try the ale yet because-" But he interrupted her by grabbing her face hard and squishing her cheeks together. "I am not your brother! Neither are they!" He pointed to were Ubbe and Hvitserk were laughing together. "Just because Ragnar laid with some bitch in Wessex doesn't make you anything to us! Oh and Ivar? He's playing his own games, he only keeps you around so that you can help him archive the power he wants!" A smirk was on Sigurds face as he watched how tears streamed down her cheeks and how her lip quivered.

Sadly for him he did not notice the blue of her eyes and how she was further away from the others, to calm her powers. One might think that the ax hitting him in the back was her, but people tend to forget how hotheaded Ivar the boneless was, now that he seemed calm compared to his sister. Ivar couldn't help it and threw the ax, hearing his brothers harsh and hurtful words, making him not realize what he was doing as his hand found the weapon.

Ivar didn't mean to kill his brother, panic spread in his chest as he quickly limped over to the two of them. The little girls eyes were wide and still filled with unshed tears as she did her best to keep Sigurd upright. Of course she was upset with him, but he was still her beloved brother, even if he didn't see himself that way.

The hall quieted down quickly. Hvitserk and Ubbe were quick to join their siblings helping the girl to carefully lay down their brother. Both shot daggers with their eyes at Ivar, who was slightly trembling, scared to have actually killed him. Ubbe tried to pull her away from Sigurd, not wanting her to see so much blood at such a young age, not caring about viking tradition at this point. This was her brother dying, she shouldn't see him like that.

But she had other plans. As if it was instinct, she pulled away from Ubbes hold and pulled the ax out of Sigurds abdomen. Her hands covering in blood as she pressed them onto the open wound applying as much pressure as she can before closing her eyes, saying a quiet prayer to the gods. Repeating the prayer over and over again in barely a whisper her eyes shot open, the blue now seeming like it glowed, making the men around her flinch slightly.

They all saw the wound healing. It healed quickly, way quicker than anything else and her eyes soon stopped glowing as the wound was completely gone and Sigurs eyes snapped open. The little girls eyes closed slowly as she released him from her grip and dropped exhausted to the ground, making Hvitserk quickly catched her head, before it hit the floor, picking her fully up. All of them were silent for a moment as they listened to Sigurds heavy breathing.

None of them could believe how blessed they were, having a sister as strong as her. It didn't matter to them if she was a god or a simple witch blessed by them. All that mattered to them was that she was safe and taken care of. She was so young with such great power. A power she needed help with, a power that they all had to tame with her. But it was alright, if that's what it takes for her to feel loved and needed.

The Ragnarssons could not hide the fact that their sister was the reason they all connected fully again. She truly was a blessing from the all father.

-

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! :)

[procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics]

How would Vikings react to Ivar being remembered?

summary: it's in the title :)

notes: no warnings except for maybe mentions of death

tagged: @majesticwren @obsessiveformiyatwins @levithestripper @cookielovesbook-akie @leithdragon @demon-of-the-ancient-world @alicedopey, @ivarlover @batmandallyboy @akayxo09 @vrtualfairy @esme-viridian (hmu to be added/removed!)

masterlist | based on this request

Ragnar

Pretends he always knew (eugh he’s such a bitch ong)

Nooo I would never set my son out in the wild… meeee? No wayyy…

He takes credit for it for his ‘great parenting’ and ‘legend genetics’

If Ivar had any legend genetics, they came from aslaug

Aslaug

Proudest mom out there, acts like a soccer/pta mom when she hears

Aslaug actually always knew

She quotes her prophetic dreams from like, 853 AD?

“I knew since I was five years old.” (truth)

Lagertha

Okay? Who cares? What about Bjorn?

Totally not pissed that he may be more famous than she is (lie)

Defo sulks about it to torvi and then kills someone important to expand her own legacy

She’s in the fame biz

Bjorn

Bro throws a toddler tantrum

He will literally stomp the ground

“That’s not fair, I discovered the Mediterranean!!” (he says that in the stupid tone he gets in the later seasons)

So so bitter about it (he deserves that)

Ubbe

Ubbe’s smoking weed in America with Floki

He does not care

“That’s just bad taste from people from the future. Me personally? I’d admire the person who found a continent. Idk, that’s just me though.”

Gets over it the fastest

Literally just thinks that it’s so dumb of modern people bc Ivar is a silly little guy with anger issues

Hvitserk

Similar reaction to Ubbe, except he doesn’t have to get over anything

Just kinda shrugs, he’s too busy worrying about his own legacy

What’s he in the history books for? His cuisine skills?

Yeah, bro’s kinda busy managing his own shit and trying to stay alive

Sigurd

Don’t tell him

For your own safety

Will kill you and then himself

Ivar

Don’t tell him either

Never lets anyone hear the end of it

So so so annoying for a silly little guy

He just loves and hates himself so much that, at the same time, he so needs to hear this and also never, ever hear this ever at all

Floki

Floki is the same as Aslaug, he KNEW

Also, he takes credit for raising ivar and being a father figure (fair enough)

He’s a teeny tiny bit sad that ivar was friends (in a weird homosexual way) with Alfred though (kind of, and this only applies if we’re talking about tv show Vikings)

Honestly, Floki would be such a good source to add to the material we have of ivar

Ecbert

So mad he didn’t have a bigger impact on ivar

Also so mad that all the kids around him have such big legacies (Alfred, ivar) but not him??

He wants to get mentioned!! Footnotes aren’t enough!! He needs to be the main character, always.

Gets sad drunk over it way too long

[aikaterini-drag]

Harald Sigurdsson 🔥❤️‍🔥 I’m going to resume editing my Viking story because I missed him so much 🥰

[bxwitched]

Captive - Part 4

Warnings: Explicit 18+ only, please read at your own risk. Noncon / dubcon, slavery, manipulation, sexual content, violence, descriptions of wounds and blood.

Character Pairing: King!Ivar the Boneless x Slave!Reader

Summary: You find yourself a captive of Ivar the Boneless.

Word Count: 2.2K

A/N: I finally found the inspiration to continue this fic after a whole year. Comments, reblogs and likes are all appreciated! You can find my masterlist here.

You stirred as cold fingertips traced along your leg, a large callused hand smoothing shapes over soft the flesh, waking you from your dream. You kicked out at the explorative touch, making a sound of displeasure as Ivar caught your ankle in his firm grip and snickered in amusement.

"It is time to get up, Valkyrie." You groaned, burrowing your face further into the furs.

"Leave me be, King. Let me sleep." He huffed at you from his perch at the end of the bed and you gasped in surprise as he leaned forward and snatched your leg from beneath the blankets, jostling you as he hitched it over his broad shoulder. His icy eyes locked with yours as he pressed a slow kiss to the side of your knee.

You tried to ignore the heat simmering in your belly as his lips brushed against the sensitive flesh, leaving fire in their wake. His intense gaze bore down into you and flashes of the night before came rushing back; the way that Ivar had looked at you as you had taken control of him and used him for your pleasure.

You had behaved no better than a common whore, desperate for the gratification that his body could offer and you felt your cheeks heat at the memory, your stomach twisting into knots.

You leaned back on your elbows and studied Ivar, he was already dressed in his light armour; with his axe fixed to his hip, his knives stowed at his waist, and metal braces in place on his legs. You didn't have time to wonder what his plans for the day were before he brought you out of your thoughts, his breath tickling your soft skin as he spoke.

"I thought that you would be eager to see your little mouse, Valkyrie. But if you would rather remain in bed-" His voice was teasing and you bolted upright, wrenching your leg back from his grip as you looked at him with narrowed eyes, suspicious.

"You will allow it?" He nodded once, his bright eyes fixated on you.

"You have been good for me, haven't you? Torsten is waiting outside to escort you." You tried and failed to hide your excitement as you stood from the bed and rushed to get dressed. Ivar's lips tilted up at the corners and his eyes remained glued to your form as he watched you ready yourself for the day, beguiled by you.

As you walked the streets of Kattegat you had quickly learned that Torsten was not a talkative man; he was tall and well-built with short hair, shorn at the sides and a dark beard. He was more of a mountain than a man, clearly battle hardened and you had no doubts that he was one of Ivar's finest warriors. 

You travelled in silence, trying to ignore the stares of the townspeople as you passed through the busy market, some offered you looks of pity, whilst others flashed you looks of distaste. You couldn't decipher the hushed words and low whispers that were spoken, but you imagined that it was gossip of the king's newest toy, his foreign concubine. 

You wondered how many there were before you and what words were spoken of them, whether they were also from Eire or from lands further afield. 

Torsten came to a stop when you neared a large barn and gestured you in ahead of him. You entered the dimly lit space hesitantly, mindful of the other thralls as they bustled around, readying for their tasks of the day.

You eyes flitted through the crowd of women, searching for the head of golden hair when a weight suddenly barrelled into you, taking your breath and nearly knocking you backwards as a smaller figure clung tightly to your waist.

Alva sobbed against you, her tears staining the richly-dyed fabric of your dress, 'a gift' Ivar had said, 'wear it for me'.

"I thought- I though that I would never see you again-" You hushed the younger girl as she cried, hiccuping as she tried to form words between her gasped breaths and tears.

"I'm here, Alva. All is well." You rubbed her back with one hand and stroked her hair with the other as she slowly calmed and managed to steady her breathing once more.

She looked up at you with glassy eyes, deep emerald irises that she had inherited from her mother's side. 

"Come." You took her hand in yours and lead her away from the barn, down to the waterfront where it was quieter, calmer. You both walked in silence along the waters edge, taking in the warmth of the sun on your face and the sound of the waves as they lapped gently at the shore. Torsten followed behind,  giving you just enough distance to speak privately, a courtesy you hadn't expected from the warrior.

Alva sobbed against you, her tears staining the richly-dyed fabric of your dress, 'a gift' Ivar had said, 'wear it for me'.

"I thought- I though that I would never see you again-" You hushed the younger girl as she cried, trying to form words between her gasped breaths and tears.

"I'm here, Alva. All is well." You rubbed her back with one hand and stroked her hair with the other as she slowly calmed and steadied her breathing.

She looked up at you with glassy eyes, a deep, rich emerald that she had inherited from her mother's side.

"Come." You took her hand and lead her away from the barn and down to the waterfront. You both walked along the waters edge, your shoes sinking slightly into the damp sand as Torsten followed behind you at a distance, giving you enough space speak privately. It was a courtesy you hadn't expected from the warrior but appreciated immensely. 

"Where did they take you?" Your heart wrenched at the concern and fear in her shaking voice.

"They took me to the king." Alva's face paled, her eyes widening further. She looked akin to a doe in the forest, startled by a waiting hunter in the trees.

"Ivar the boneless." Her fear was evident now, her eyes moving over your body franticly. "What did he do? Did he hurt you?"

"No Alva, I'm fine." Your stomach twists at that and you let out a deep sigh, your shoulders sagging slightly. She was six summers younger than you but she was naive for her age, fragile. She wasn't hardened like you, she was innocent and she couldn't begin to understand the complexities of your situation.

She was a lamb amongst wolves and you knew that you had to do everything you could to protect her, even if it meant being the king's whore.

"King Ivar has taken me as his and so long as I am good to him, useful to him, our safety is guaranteed here. We may be thralls here but we are alive Alva, and we are protected. That is all that matters." She chewed her lip nervously and her worried gaze dropped to the floor.

"I have heard things, whispers from the other girls.." You stopped and crouched down to her level, ignoring the cold water that seeped into the hem of your gown as you searched her face with questioning eyes.

"What things?"

"They talk about the king, they say that he is a great warrior, that he is favoured by the gods and has never lost a battle. But-"

"Go on, Alva." You insisted as she shifted her weight nervously.

"They say that because of his legs, he cannot please a woman. He has hurt slave girls and threatened to kill them if they speak of it. They talk of a woman called Margarette, they say he strangled her."

Your eyes lowered to the sand and you nodded your head solemnly, you would not be surprised by such things given your experience of Ivar's volatile nature. You returned to your full height and forced a small smile, one you hoped would reassure the young girl.

"Come along, let us enjoy the water a little longer."

Torsten allowed you to spend a few hours with Alva, soaking up the warmth of the sun and the feel of the salty ocean breeze before telling you that it was time to return to the Hall.

Alva was unhappy to leave you and return to the thrall house but she finally relented when you reassured her that you'd be okay with a soft smile and promised that you would see her again soon.

You were almost back at the Hall when you heard your new moniker being called in the distance and turned to see Hvitserk making his way towards you.

"Valkyrie!" The man was completely different to Ivar, not only in his physical appearance but in his demeanour; whilst Ivar was impassive and unpredictable, Hvitserk was open and seemed to wear his emotions on his sleeve.

He grinned widely at you as he rested on the fence of the training ground, his hair mussed and cheeks red from sparring.

"I see my brother has finally let you spread your wings." You huffed at his jest and moved to rest against the fence beside him, watching as Ivar's men fought each other with vigour, the sharp clashes of steel and crashes of shields heavy in the air.

"They are fine warriors. Though not as fine as you I'm sure.." Hvitserk raised an eyebrow at your taunt, his grin widening as mischief danced behind his eyes.

"You told me that you were a fighter, Valkyrie. Perhaps I wish to see it for myself." You raised your chin slightly, your eyes narrowing in playful challenge.

"My father always believed that I possessed enough fury to rival that of a berserker, maybe we should test that." The blonde man's eyes flashed in delight and he held a hand out to you, helping you over the wooden fence and into the training arena, ignoring Torsten's protests and silencing the larger man with a raised hand.

"Hand me a sword, Ragnarsson." He passed you a short-sword, lighter than you had used before but well-balanced and finely made. Hvitserk opted for a larger sword, heavier and better matched for his larger frame.

"Don't worry, Valkyrie. I will go easy on you." You scoffed, watching as his grin widened and his eyes changed, the mossy green growing darker with his building battle-lust.

You watched his feet, anticipating his initial attack and dodged each skilful slash of his sword. You moved in time with him, keeping up with the prince despite your heavy dress weighing down your movements.

You grinned as you blocked several of the beserker's attempted hits. Hvitserk's expression was positively wild and the fight between you became more intense the more you challenged him.

He barely managed to block your attack to his torso and you grinned as he growled in irritation. You were so focused, until your name was shouted from the fence line.

Your head turned for no more than a second but it was enough time for Hvitserk to land a hit, successfully slicing a line of crimson across your forearm. You gasped as the flesh stung and you clutched at the wound as the blood began to seep from it, running down your skin and dripping into the dirt beneath your feet.

Hvitserk froze, his face dropping into one of remorse as he realised what he had done, then one of uneasiness when he noticed Ivar stalking towards you both with his men in tow. His face was stony but his sapphire eyes gave away his rage, they were practically glowing as he glared at both of you.

"What do you think you are doing, hm?" His voice was level, an unnerving contradiction to the storm brewing behind his eyes. He turned on Hvitserk then and the older Ragnarsson visibly tensed. "I suppose that this was your idea, brother?"

You were quick to speak up, stepping in front of Hvitserk to shield him from Ivar's wrath. Although he had been the one to challenge you to spar, you had been just as willing. He hadn't meant to injure you and you had enjoyed the rush of it, the freedom.

Despite being your master's kin Hvitserk had been civil to you during your time in Kattegat, amiable even. From what you had witnessed he seemed to be a decent man and you didn't feel that he deserved to be reprimanded for your poor choices.

"It's not his fault, my King. I challenged him to fight, if you are to punish anyone then it must be me."

"Is that so?" Ivar tilted his head at you with a raised brow and you nodded, his face said everything his words did not. This is not over.

He ran his tongue along the front of his teeth and nodded once, his jaw tensed.

"Very well, Torsten will take you back to our chambers." He dismissed the larger warrior with a wave of his hand and turned to face Hvitserk, fixing him with a false smile that left no room for argument. "Brother, you will go and fetch the healer. And the next time that you wish to fight? I suggest that you find a different opponent."

@wittysunflower​ @heavenly1927​ @youbloodymadgenius​ @that-virgo-witch​ @helleiaiwritting @the-king-of-kattegat-ivar @nukyster-blog @ietss @belladaises @victoria-styles

[multific]

New Purpose

Hvitserk x Reader

Summary: After losing Ivar, he was lost. He wished to die but couldn't. He promised Ivar he will live, but how can anyone call this a life?

Hvitserk drowned another cup before standing, as he did, he nearly fell over. 

He was way too drunk. He shouldn't have drank so much but he needed something to numb the pain, something to make him feel other than grief.

He should have died not Ivar, he should have been the one for Odin to take. And yet, Hvitserk was here and Ivar was gone.

As he got out of the pub, he started walking, no particular place in mind, he just walked.

Then three men stopped before him.

You were on your way home, you really shouldn't be out so late all alone. But you lost track of time.

On your way back to your home, you tried to avoid people as best as you could. Turning one corner you noticed four men, you hid behind the fence, trying to think of a way to escape.

"Are you a damn Viking or what?! FIGHT!" one yelled, this is when you noticed it wasn't four men, well technically it was but, it was a three against one. One very drunk. 

You heard a couple punches being thrown then a loud groan before footsteps left. You looked back, you saw a man on the floor while the others walked away.

You wanted to get up and leave, run home and never come back into town again, you could do that.

But you had to have a heart...fuck.

You slowly walked over to the man, noticing the blood on the floor.

"Sir?" you asked but no reply. You could see he was breathing. You looked around, no one was there to help. He let out a groan as you kneeled beside him. "Can you stand?" 

It was quite a struggle to get him to your home. It was further from the village as you prefer to have your own privacy, slowly but surely he managed to wobble back to your place, while leaning against you.

He was reeking of alcohol, his arm was bleeding where he got cut and he threw up twice on his way to your place.

You patched up his arm and soon he was in your bed, sleeping.

At the time, you had no idea what you just got yourself into.

---

The next morning, when you woke up, you immediately started on some bread.

Kneading it before letting it rest and rise. As you turned you saw the man who you brought home standing by your table.

"I don't remember laying you. But I'm not complaining." he smirked and you nearly gagged.

"We did not do such a thing. You got your drunk ass kicked and I brought you here. You were laying in your own blood and mud." you said pointing at his wounds which you patched up.

"I thought you were just rough with me." the smirk again. But this time you said nothing. Instead, put some bread on the table and a small vile. 

"Put this ointment on your wound twice a day. Or don't and watch as it gets infected and kills you."

"Harsh lady, you are. But thank you for your help. I shall take my leave." he grabbed the food and the small vile from your table before heading to the door. "Hvitserk Ragnarsson. My name, if you ever need help." and with that, he left.

You weren't sure why you would ever need his help. If anything he would need yours. 

You rolled your eyes and headed to your garden.

Slowly forgetting about him as the days and weeks passed.

One day, he turned up out of nowhere.

"I didn't know where to go." he said as he stumbled into your home. "My leg." he said as he sat down in one of your chairs, you started to lift his pants when you saw a huge gash oozing blood. 

"I will need to stop the bleeding. Don't move." you rushed to get your herbs and medicine before returning. "I'll have to close the wound, it will hurt. Take this." you gave him a vile to drink and he did. You let a couple of minutes pass before grabbing a needle.

---

Hvitserk was now asleep in your bed. 

Once again.

You wondered what had happened to him to get such a nasty injury. 

You hoped he would heal well. 

You cleaned up everything around the house, washed the floors and started to prepare some soup.

You had no idea why you acted like his little wife, and yet here you were.

Damn you and your kind heart. 

And yet you helped him, you fed him and when his fever got high, you were there.

Slowly his wound began to heal.

But you noticed a change in yourself.

You noticed that you longed for his company, that you really enjoyed talking with him and hearing him laugh. You adored his smile and you realized you would do anything to keep him smiling.

It was a dangerous feeling.

But it was so good.

His leg was healing nicely.

Damn you and your natural talent to cure people.

His leg was healing which meant he will soon go.

And you knew, you had to let him go.

There was no reason for him to stay. You were silly to think the smiles he gave you were more than a friendly smile. You were silly to imagine a life with him.

You knew this.

And yet, you couldn't help your heart.

You couldn't help it when your heart skipped a beat every time he laughed. You couldn't help but imagine what it would be like if he stayed with you.

But Vikings weren't like that. They lived for the thrill, for the raids, you couldn't hope he would give that all up just for you.

It was a silly dream.

And yet, every night you went to sleep thinking about it.

You felt silly. But you couldn't help your heart. 

Or your drunken mind.

He opened the bottle, he poured you all the glasses, and now here you were, tipsy and way too honest.

"I know you are going to leave in a couple days. I have been expecting it every day."

"What do you mean?" he replied, a little tipsy but not as much as you.

"You, Hvitserk are as blind as a bat. I care so deeply for you and yet... you do not belong to me."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about how you just waltzed in and stole my heart! So unfair! I can't be in love with someone who is going to leave me! I can't get my heart broken like that! It is so unfair. And yet, every morning, when I wake up, I fear you would be gone, so I always check if you are still here first before moving to make breakfast. Every. Fucking. Morning. The one time you weren't in bed, I nearly fainted but you were already in the kitchen yourself."

"Waltzed in? Love me? Don't be silly, Y/N, no woman loves me."

"You blind bat. How can you not see that I care so deeply for you? Women in the market say to catch a man try through their heart, so I did.  I cook or bake for you anything you say! I healed your leg, I healed your wounds. I am so hopeless. I know I will get my heart broken and yet, I can't help but hope." you didn't even feel the tears running down your face. "I hope you would feel the same towards me, that you would stay and... love me."

"Y/N..."

"I heard it many times before. 'I only see you as a friend', 'I only see you as a sister' or 'I am sorry if I give you the wrong idea' there is always a 'but'. 'I care for you Y/N, BUT' I have been rejected many times before. I hoped you would be different. You are a Viking, you are very different. But I'm prepared for your leave. I bought a bottle of wine, it is in my room, waiting for me to open it so I can cry myself to sleep and get over you."

"Y/N, I thought my intentions were clear." you looked up at him, confused. "Where I'm from, we court women by giving them gifts. After you healed me first I couldn't stop thinking about you, then I got into that fight and I ran to you for help. I knew my feelings were real, I just told myself yours weren't. I gifted you many things to court you. The fur on your bed? I killed and skinned the animal myself, made it into a gift for you. I got you cheese, I got you a new jewellery box and your necklace. What did you think they were?"

"Gifts... for the food I gave you? For the healing and for my help?"

"Not exactly. I meant to win you over. I have deep feelings for you as well." you looked into his eyes, sitting across from him you reached for your cup and took a swing, emptying it. 

Then, you did something Hvitserk would never expect from you.

You laughed.

You laughed so hard you actually started to cry.

"Oh wow, that now that was something else. Where's the but? There is always a but as I said so go on!"

"No buts."

"Oh please, Hvitserk come on! I help, 'I have deep feelings for you as well, but... I have to leave because we are too different?" he shook his head, no.

"Alright, then how about I have deep feelings for you as well, but... you are not the kind of woman I see myself with." he shook his head again, no.

"I have deep feelings for you as well, but...-"

"There is no but. I'm just as afraid of your rejection as you are of mine."

You sat there for a moment, suddenly the alcohol leaving your brain as you processed what just happened.

"So, you won't leave?"

"My leg healed weeks ago and yet I'm here. I was waiting for you to throw me out."

"You want to stay?"

"I wish to know more about this feeling I have inside. This love I heard so much about but never experienced until I met you. I wish to learn about it with you."

"You want me?"

"I want you more than anything and anyone. I want everything and anything you are willing to give me. If that's your clever mind or your gorgeous body, it is up to you. Do you want me to stay?"

"More than anything. I used to be so lonely, even with my animals."

"Do you want me?"

"Of course, I do. I want all of you Hvitserk." 

"Can I kiss you?"

"Please." it came out a lot more desperate than you meant it to. 

Both of you stood up way to fast as you stumbled to catch the other and your lips met in a sloppy, messy kiss.

Once the kiss was over, he didn't let go of you.

He would never let go of you after.

Hvitserk didn't fully give up the Viking life. He would go on to teach his children about it, he would also not forget his brothers or the things they have been through. 

But above it all, Hvitserk would never forget about the kind woman who gave him shelter when he was most vulnerable. The woman who gave his life a new purpose and reason to keep going.

He would never forget about you, who gave his life a new purpose.

Taglist: @fleursirvart​ @greenarrowhead​ @thisismysecrethappyplace​ @sincerelyfan​ @theoneanna​ @aestheticsandmarvel​ @rororo06​ @castellandiangelo​ @destynelseclipsa​ @spilledinkindumpster​ @capsiclesdoll​ @puknow​ @alwayshave-faith​ @soleil-dor​ @alex12948​ @lxdyred​  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl​ @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek​ @praline357​ @trshngyn​ @avengers-r-us​ @violet-19999​ @top1bbgloak​

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

             DO NOT REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS

[imeanyourmomsprettyhot]

I Still Hate You || Hvitserk

masterlist

I got the inspiration for this post from this prompt:

"I don't like you, I just find you hot"

════════════════════════

"I knew you'd come back," you laughed, as the tall son of Ragnar entered your room.

"Don't you conceive yourself as being something important!" He spat, as he got closer to the bed you were lying on, "I don't like you, I just find you hot."

Hvitserk pulled you on you legs closer to the edge of the bed, where he hovered on top of you. His lips met yours, and his tongue instantly entered your mouth.

You were the wife of Bjorn Ironside, which was enough reason for the other sons of Ragnar Lothbrok to hate you. But after a strange encounter with Hvitserk the other night, when your husband left with the ships, he started visiting you, even though he clearly told you it was a mistake and that it will never happen again.

He for sure didn't like you, but he liked your body. He liked how your warmth feels around his cock, and he liked the sounds you make while he fucks you.

You loved your husband, you really did. But he was never able to fully please you. Bjorn was always gentle with his women, but you found, you needed the roughness of one of your enemies, to finally cum.

Hvitserk's messy kiss lead to an end, leaving you with an all wet mouth and an even wetter spot between your legs.

He forcefully turned you around, so you were now on all fours—He never wanted to look at your face while he fucked you;he hated you too much for that.

He roughly pulled your dress up and pushed your head down in the pillow, your ass now being on full display. It didn't take long for him to get rid of his pants, and he pushed his whole length inside, a splash of pain rushing through your body.

He didn't let you adjust to his size, he immediately pounded into you in whatever paste he needed right now.

You cunt was drooling over how harsh he treated you, and through the pain, you felt pleasure. The sound of his skin slapping on yours, filled the room up completely, almost covering up your loud moans.

A hard smack landed on your ass cheek, which turned into a dark red shade. You cried out at the sudden pain, but you secretly liked it.

He thrusted into you even harder, hitting your g-spot with full force. It was painful, but it made you even needier. His hand was still hardly pressing down your head in your pillow, keeping you in place.

He smacked your, already red, cheek again, earning a whimper from you, as tears start to form in your eyes. He loved the sound of your cries. He loved seeing you in pain.

Hvitserk's growls got louder and breathier, as you noticed him being close. But he did someone unexpected. He turned you back around, one of your legs being over his shoulder.

He now could enter you deeper, putting you in even more pleasurable-pain.

He stopped pounding for a moment, before another smack hit the side of your face.

"Look at me, you whore!" He commanded, and you did as he said.

His hips started grinding again. He was looking you deeply in the eyes—They were filled with so much anger and hatred.

You had similar sex like this a few times with Bjorn, after you two fought, but it was never close to what his brother did to you.

Your mouth was wide opened, and desperate cries were coming out of it. Hvitserk was soon to cum, as his grunts got heavier, and the thrusts sloppier.

He still hasn't looked away from your eyes, his were deeply focused on yours. His breath became more and more unsteady, while your moans increased with every painful pound that shot through your core.

A few more thrusts was all he needed to release his load all over your stomach, some of it landing on your dress.

The way he treated you like a dirty slut, made you cum right after him, with a loud scream. Hvitserk was able to make you cum, even after he stopped touching you. This was what made you so attached to him.

"You fucking bitch, just look at you," he stood up, pulling his trousers on, "So fucking needy for my cock."

"Please fuck me again," you begged him, breathing heavily.

But he just laughed at you, "I still hate you, you little slut. I don't intend to make you feel good, you understand that?"

He quickly left the room, leaving you alone with the mess he made, still horny and greedily waiting for the next time he visits you.

[kaivenom]

How are the viking's men when you raid together...

Warnings: small hints of suggested themes

Masterlist

Ivar the Boneless

Absolutely in love.

He is the more excited of the brothers to get you into raids.

Of course he fears about your safety but if you are with Ivar it's clearly that you know how to handle things like this.

Seeing you all covered in blood of your enemies, with weapons on your hands and that exhausted look, made him think you are a valkirie.

He gives you trinkets, even when the city has been destroyed and all the treasures of the city belong now to the vikings, he still gives you things he sees on another woman.

Sometimes you don't like how he gets after fights, becuase sadism in battles is good but tortures after that, no.

You try to reproach him about it, at first he gets angry, then he tries to be less sadist after that.

At the end, raiding with Ivar is a big adventure.

Ubbe Ragnarson

Very protective.

Expect him to be your shadow, attached to your side every second.

He kisses you after battle, he says he doesn't want to be in Valhalla without feeling your lips one last time.

In battle you both are always together, fighting in complete synchrony.

One thing he does when the battle ends that drives you crazy is kissing you. You both covered in dust and blood, exhausted from battling and he just goes to you with feral eyes, drops the sword/axe and kisses you furiously.

He doesn't like to make you gifts from the raids but instead you are the one who grants him things, he smiles like a child everytime.

Hvitserk Ragnarson

He thinks it's the best thing you both could do.

Like a vacation for the two of you, seeing new places and trying new food.

All the things he gains during the raids are YOUR things too, he gifts you everything he can.

He ussually tents to follow some jokes from other vikings about taking woman from the raids.

After seeing your face full of disgust, he never does it again, he wouldn't support seeing your eyes look at him like that again.

He always finds the higher spot on the place to spent the evening after raiding, organizing a picnic above all the bloody chaos of the under.

Sigurd Ragnarson

He doesn't like you going, he doesn't like going either.

You both only go when it's necesary because of his family.

When you are there, you both prefer to watch out the camp rather than enter in battle.

In fact, probably you are better warrior that him, so you protect him during the battles.

Being on the camp he always plays instruments to calm himself, and because of that you lay next to him and relax yourself too.

After battle he goes straight to your side and hughs you tightly, other vikings mock him about his not-so-manly behaviour.

Bjorn Ironside

He doesn't really care.

He thinks you can handle yourself, but unlike the others, that makes him let you get lost around.

He just watches you from afar with a serious face, expecting the unexpected.

A small grin appears on his face every once in a while, thinking about how badass you look.

The sight of seeing you covered in blood makes you look so desirable, he has to restrain himself from taking you right there.

You have to endure his cheater behaviour with foreign woman and getting slves everywhere.

But after battle you are euphoric and decide to put him on place.

[axelsagewrites]

Where Am I?*Part Four

Pairing: modern!f!reader x (to be determined...) Ubbe, Ivar, Sigurd, Hviserks, Bjorn

Word count: 2146

Warnings: drinking, Sigurd making a cripple joke, drunk reader

Series Summary: After falling head first the reader wakes up face to face with a group of strangely dressed men who look eerily like the vikings she studies

Part one Part two Part three

Masterlist Here

Something your arrival seemed to have distracted from was the success of the latest raid. “You’ll love it,” Hvitserk told you over breakfast. He, you had soon noticed, was the only morning person of the bunch. Ivar looked even more homicidal while Sigurd was still too asleep to piss him off. Meanwhile Ubbe was still in bed, threatening to cut off whoever’s hand tried to wake him, “We pull out all the stops. Wines, mead, ale, -“

“Is anything not alcohol related?” you joked just as Bjorn walked in. You’d honestly expected him to have breakfast with his father, but Bjorn said nothing as he took a seat beside you. You knew he was tall but him sitting shoulder to shoulder with you made you realise just how not only tall, but wide he was. The man was built like a bear.

“Hello?” Hvitserk said, waving his hand in front of your eyes, “I swear none of you appreciate the morning,” he tutted.

“Die,” Ivar grunted, earning an agreement from Sigurd. You chuckled a little at seeing them finally on the same side.

Still, you shot Hvitserk an apologetic smile. “Sorry Hvitserk I just spaced out,”

“Spaced out?” He asked, even Bjorn looking down in confusion.

“Like got distracted?”

Hvitserk nodded in understanding, but Bjorn wasn’t satisfied, his head tilting even further in confusion. “Why do you say ‘like’ all the time? You always say like at the start of everything its strange,”

“I guess it’s like,” you said, pausing to chuckle at the accident though he didn’t laugh, “I don’t know it’s just how we talk where I’m from. Like how in every conversation someone threatens someone’s life here,” you said, finally earning a crack of a smile from him, “Where I’m from that would be the weird thing,”

“It’s not as if we mean it,” Hvitserk said.

“It’s brotherly love,” You turned to look at Ivar and Sigurd who both just kind of shrugs.

“It’s something all right,” Sigurd muttered. Ivar’s glare said enough on his behalf.

You ignored them both and turned back to Hvitserk with a laugh. After all they were brothers after all. It was all just talk. Surely. “So, if I go wake Ubbe up right now he won’t actually cut off my hand?” This time they all shared a concerned look. Okay maybe not.

“Take back up with you,” Ivar said. “Just encase,”

You sighed and rolled your eyes at the dramatics of all of them “Seriously? Right come on then,” you said, nodding your head at Ivar as you stood.

For a moment you actually saw a slight look of fear wash over his face, “But I’m still eating,” he tried to weasel his way out of it making Sigurd laugh. That was until you turned to him, hands on hip and his eyes suddenly dipped to the floor and the laughing stopped.

You threw your hands up, “He cannot be that bad!” you protested as you headed to Ubbe’s room.

As you headed for the door you heard someone’s chair scrape against the floor following you. You knocked on the door before quickly pushing it open, “Rise and shine sunshine- “

A loud groan came from the lump under the furs that was presumably the grumpy Ubbe everyone had warned you about. He quickly went to sit up and you jumped back when you saw the axe in his hand. Right back into what you soon realised was Bjorn’s chest.

Realization dawned over Ubbe’s face when he saw you, “Oh,” he said, dropping the axe onto the furs, “Sorry I didn’t realise it was you,” he mumbled, collapsing back into bed.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” you mumbled, stepping away from Bjorn and hoping he didn’t see the blush covering your cheeks from the previous closeness. Then they went even redder when Ubbe sat up in bed and you realised he had nothing on. “I’m just gonna,” you span around, trying to leave, before almost smacking right back into Bjorn’s chest. You almost gulped before looking up at him, “Sorry,” you mumbled, rushing out past him, not noticing the smirk on Bjorn’s face or the way Ubbe laughed at your antics.

-

Ivar had finished eating by the time you’d returned, and you very quickly insisted on him showing you the market like he’d promised last night. He almost jumped at the chance and debated flinging his knife into Sigurd’s chest when he insisted on joining you both. However, you weren’t out for long before Aslaug sent a thrall to fetch you.

Aslaug had arranged for you to receive another dress for tonight’s festivities since “our guests represent our honour,” and you weren’t going to turn down the clean clothes.

The boys had gone out to do some training leaving you to get ready. You debated doing some makeup, you did have a couple items in your bag after all. “What is that?” Aslaug asked as she and a woman you recognised as Helga walked into the room. You’d been sat at a table in the middle of the house to utilise the little light inside and hadn’t heard them walk in, “Its eyeliner,” you said, showing them the black on your eyes, “Like how you use charcoal on yours,”

“Can I watch?” Helga asked, excitement written on her face as she sat across from you, “What’s this?” she asked, picking up the liquid blush, “It’s so bright!”

“It’s blush,” you laughed, “It’s for your cheeks,”

Aslaug sat next to her, eyeing over the cosmetics, “Like berries?”

“Kind of?” you said, gently taking it out of Helga’s hand so you could put it on to show them,

“See?” you asked patting it in, “Same sort of thing but this lasts a bit longer,”

“Can we try some?” Helga asked and even Aslaug looked interested at the idea. For the next while you helped them apply some moisturiser and blush to ease them into it. you were honestly scared to show them your eyeshadow pallet considering how Helga reacted to a pink blush.

then it was your turn. Apparently, the hair problem was long overdue. Helga was gentle when she brushed but you winced as Aslaug took over the intricate braids. “Do all girls fuss where you’re from?”

By the time she was done however you had to admit it looked beautiful. “You almost look like one of us,” there was almost fondness in Aslaug smile.

Helga looked up with a large grin, “You’ll get used to the pain. You looked wonderful though,”

-

Walking into the bustling hall by Aslaug’s side was both comforting and terrifying. On one hand it meant no one would question you but on the other, everyone was staring. When the boys finally returned Hvitserk was the first to greet you and you happily accepted the ale he offered.

You were sat at a table with the five of them, Hvitserk and Ivar on either side of you, and Bjorn, Ubbe, and Sigurd across from you. However, something the group were quickly realising was their tolerance to ale was far higher than yours. “Do you not drink where you’re from?” Ubbe teased as your cheeks flushed from the alcohol.

“We do! I swear I’m not a lightweight. This stuffs just strong!” you laughed.

Apparently, the laugh was infectious as soon they were all giggly. All but Bjorn but for once there was a permanent smile on his face, “What’s a lightweight?” Bjorn asked.

“Someone who can’t hold their alcohol,” you told him, very matter of factly making them all laugh at your drunken confidence, “You lot wouldn’t last one second on a night out at my campus. I’m talking tequila shots, body shots, Jello shots,” you began to drunkenly list off as the boys tilted their heads in amused confusion.

“What’s a shot?” Hvitserk asked making you face palm.

“Oh, I have so much to teach you,”

-

Unfortunately, while the boys were great company and had adjusted well to you being in their groups your presence seemed to disrupt everyone else. It was Hvitserk who first noticed everyone staring at you, but you were too tipsy too care. However, as Ivar and Ubbe drank more both began to glare at the men whose eyes stayed too long.

Despite all the boys warning you about Ivar’s temper they all seemed to ignore Ubbe’s even when he insisted on you all leaving because a drunken Viking tried to hit on you. You however were happy enough to follow them all the edge of the lake and sit on the cold sand with a flask of ale being passed around.

As you were all walking down to the lake Hvitserk, and Sigurd were in a heated debate over which slave girl was hotter while Ubbe carried a giggling Ivar on his back. somehow, you’d ended up at the back of the pack, stumbling down the hill beside Bjorn.

“Woah,” he gasped, grabbing your waist before you could stumble and fall over a tree branch. “Steady,”

“Careful Bjorn,” you grinned up at him, holding onto the arm he offered you so you wouldn’t risk falling again, “Someone might think we’re friends,” you teased.

A smirk quickly showed on his face, a teasing light in his eyes, “Oh? Are we not friends already? I am wounded,”

“Friends don’t try kill their friends,” you pouted but you weren’t able to keep the charade up for long before grinning again like a Cheshire cat.

Bjorn just rolled his eyes with a smile however, “We weren’t friends then. We are now,”

“So, you won’t try kill me again?”

Another eye roll, “I won’t try kill you, no,” he said, shaking his head as he helped you to where the rest of the group had begun to sit.

“Pinky promise?” you asked, pulling out of his grip and extending his arm.

His eyes narrowed, head tilting, “What’s a pinkie promise?”

“Its where,” you said, stepping closer to grab his hand, “You lock pinkies,” you said wrapping yours around his, not noticing the smile on his face, “And promise something. And if you break it, I get to break your pinkie,”

“So, an oath?”

“An oath with a threat,”

“Of breaking a finger?”

“Pinkie specifically but yes,” you grinned, “So do you promise?”

“I promise,”

“Good,” you grinned, pulling your pinkie away from his grip before turning to join the group. You plopped down on the ground next to Ivar who was staring off into the sea, “Hi,” you grinned.

Ivar turned to you, laughing when he saw the wide grin on your cheeks, “Hello,” you could hear a slight drunken slur in his words. “Want some?” he asked, passing you, his ale.

You gladly accepted it, taking a drink of the alcohol you first hated but soon grew to love, “Thanks. You’re always so sweet to me,” you smiled before taking a drink, missing the way Ivar’s cheeks went red at your sweet words. Sigurd however didn’t want you to miss it.

“Aww look at the cripple,” he teased making Ivar scowl, “He’s blushing like a baby,”

You passed Ivar his drink back, noticing how tense his jaw was and quickly checking to see how close he was to his axe. After all you didn’t need to be here when the fall out happened, “Why do you care so much Sigurd?” you asked, rolling your eyes.

Everyone’s eyes seemingly went wide, shocked that your bubbly attitude had so quickly dropped. “you don’t get it,” he tried to brush off, “you’re not from here,”

“Then explain it to me,” you said, sitting up straight, “Explain what’s so funny about Ivar’s legs. Ill wait,”

“Well its just,” he tried to stutter earning a snigger from Hvitserk, “I don’t know it just is. Why do you care?”

You were honestly a bit hurt by that, “because he’s, my friend?” you said it like a question because the answer seemed so obvious.

“Okay well I’m sorry,” Sigurd shrugged, his eyes focused on the ground.

Luckily the night quickly moved on from the brief ugly confrontation however Ivar couldn’t get the reaction out of his mind. He was so used to fighting his own battles that he never even expected someone else to back him up, let alone speak up before him. Despite his bruised ego Sigurd thankfully stayed civil for the rest of the night.

A few hours passed before you all decided to walk home. You were in a world of your own at this point, your eyes fixed on how bright the night sky was with stars with no city skyline or factory gases to ruin your view. You didn’t even notice the stares from the boys or hear Hvitserk and Ubbe talk about how you stood up to Sigurd. For the first time this week you didn’t have a care in the world.

Part five

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[ubbesbabymama]

Finally.

↳ Pairing. Hvitserk Ragnarsson.

↳ Summary. Hvitserk is kind of in love with his brother’s slave.

↳ Word count. 3.3K.

↳ Warnings. Violence (a random man tries to force stuff but failed, it is not detailed), death (none of the main characters), smut.

↳ Note. Let’s flip things around as they’re in the show with Ivar being obsessed with a slave that is close with his brothers. Also, this is my first time writing smut, sorry if it’s bad (i know it is).

He thinks he’s doing amazing at hiding his feelings, for he doesn’t want to give too much information on it so nobody takes it from him, but if there’s one thing everyone in Kattegat knows is how in love Prince Hvitserk is with you, Ivar’s personal slave.

From what he knows, you haven’t even had sex with his little brother and Ivar actually treats you well, which is already confusing for Hvitserk, and everybody. The first thing that caught his attention from you was the way you treat his brother and the way Ivar never seems to get angry at you, it’s almost as if you were Floki, the person that Ivar adores.

“You need a warm bath,” You murmur to Ivar when all the brothers are sitting in the great hall. You were doing your respective chores but always keeping an eye on your prince, and Hvitserk would always silently wish that he was the center of your attention instead.

“I don’t,” Ivar snarls rolling his eyes and all the slaves around gasp when you softly smack his shoulder.

“Yes you do, I haven’t finished cleaning all the tables and you have made more faces than ever,” You tell him, your tone not disrespectful but not trembling like every other slave that talks to Ivar. “It’s getting cold, your legs are hurting. I can see it.”

“It always surprises me how you never seem to get angry at her,” Ubbe says, smiling at you. “Knowing that you’re always angry.”

“Because she never treated me differently ever since she was brought here,” Ivar says, taking his crutches from you. “She takes care of me and my legs without making me feel like a fucking hindrance.”

As soon as you put one of Ivar’s arms around you Hvitserk jumps from his seat.

“I’ll help you,” He says to Ivar and the man in question just chuckle.

For months Hvitserk has settled with being close to you like that. He would offer to help Ivar to do his things knowing that you would be following not so far behind.

“Also, she is my pride,” Ivar tells Ubbe when you are almost at the door and Hvitserk looks at his feet. “Knowing that all my brothers want what's mine.”

Hvitserk doesn’t say anything and just keeps helping his brother.

It’s not Ivar that stops Hvitserk from seducing you, it’s you. You don’t talk to the others like you do with your prince, you don’t serve them unless there are not slaves around and you have to, you don’t even look interested in them and as much as he wants you, Ubbe has taught him that first, you need to want him in order to make you his.

“Give me a moment, my prince, I need to heat the water,” You murmur to Ivar who takes his arm from around you.

When you’re out of their sight Ivar looks at his brother with a teasing smile.

“When are you going to stop following my slave around, mhm?” He asks with a teasing tone and Hvitserk sighs. “Are you not tired of pretending that you want to help me just to be close to her?”

“When did you find out?” Hvitserk whispers and Ivar laughs.

“The day mother made her my personal slave,” He answers and his brother sucks a breath. “Everybody knows, just so you know.”

“W-what?” Hvitserk tries to distract himself by moving the tub for his brother while Ivar is sitting on a chair.

“What? You thought nobody knew? She is my slave, of course, I’m going to be aware of how other men look at her, especially if their eyes are full of lust.” He shrugs.

“Have you…?”

“No, I haven’t had sex with her,” Ivar answers the question that has been eating his brother alive and decides to help him a little more. “I decided I would never force myself on her, for she’s the only one that treats me like a human being, but if you want my advice, you will never have her if you don’t talk to her.”

“I thought she was yours.” Hvitserk says and Ivar nods.

“Oh, she is, but what kind of prince would I be if I don’t let my slave enjoy herself?” He hums and points a finger at his brother. “As long as you don’t stop her from coming to me.”

“I would never,” Hvitserk says with a big smile and a hand on his heart, happy that he has his brother’s kind of approval.

Ivar suddenly looks behind his brother and smiles and that’s all he needs to know that you’re back, so he turns around and helps you with the water, getting not more than a quick bow from you, he looks at Ivar who just smiles and shrug as if he wants to say ‘I already told you.’

“Why aren’t you married?” Ivar suddenly asks you and Hvitserks mentally thanks his brother for helping him.

“Are you joking?” You ask him while taking his clothes off and he dramatically gasps.

“Why would I be joking, Y/N?” Ivar says with a teasing smirk and you chuckle.

Y/N. Hvitserk adores that name and the way it rolls out of his tongue, he wishes nothing more than to moan it right onto your mouth while you ride him.

“Tell me my prince, who wants to marry a slave? And not any slave, but the slave of the scariest prince, uhm? If I had a chance it vanished the moment you said that my love interest has to ask for your permission” You say but the smile in your face shows that you’re not bitter about it. To you, it’s actually a blessing not having to worry about bad people around you since they’re scared of your prince. It’s not like marriage has been on your mind since you got sold around so much before finding this kind of stability in Kattegat.

Ivar was smiling proudly.

“Of course, I can’t hand you to a nobody, you are in charge of me,” He says and you nod, he hums. “But then, what about an earl? Or another prince? Someone who’s my equal would not be so scared to approach you.”

“Oh, that’s true, now tell me, what earl, prince, or king would even look my way? I’m a slave,” You laugh.

“Me,” Hvitserk says and Ivar’s smirk turns into a full smile. “I certainly have looked your way too many times.”

You stay there, with your hands in the water that were massaging Ivar’s legs freeze on the spot, looking at Hvitserk speechless. You look at Ivar for confirmation and he smiles.

“That’s correct.”

You stay silent again, and after some torturing minutes, you look between the brothers.

“You need me to satisfy—?”

“No,” Ivar interrupts you with a harsh tone, but you don’t seem scared. “You will not be a toy for my brothers.”

“I don’t understand then,” You say and look at Hvitserk, who smiles at you.

“I want you to be my woman, that is,” He says and you gasp, making Ivar chuckle. “I have talked to Ivar so I wouldn’t get killed for even wishing that.”

“And you said yes?!” You ask Ivar, he nods and you scream from happiness and jump on him to hug him, not caring that your dress was getting wet or that you just interrupted the prince’s bath.

In all the months that you were in Kattegat not once had Hvitserk seen you laughing like that, or even being affectionate towards someone, and on top of that he has never seen Ivar so comfortable around a woman that wasn’t their mother, and more so with him currently being naked and his legs being on display.

“But, why?” You ask, and they both look at you, understanding that you were asking both of them.

“If you marry an earl from another land then they would take you away from me, it’s in my best interests that you marry one of my brothers so you remain here, in Kattegat,” Ivar explains and you laugh sitting back and caressing his head. You look at Hvitserk who just gives you a smirk.

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” He explains and you giggle. “I like you, I want to make you my wife.”

“I don’t know you, my prince.” You say, your smile not flattering and he shrugs.

“Now you will.” He smiles, standing up and leaving you and your prince alone.

“You like him?” Ivar asks you when you two are alone, and you hum.

“He caught my attention a long time ago, I just didn’t entertain the thought,” You murmur and he looks at you with a small smile.

“Entertain it now.”

The next time you see Hvitserk is at the feast that queen Aslaug throws in honor of the great number of merchants and travelers that have come to Kattegat. This time, instead of just letting you ignore him, he stops you when you walk near him.

“Hello, Y/N.” He says. “Are you going to still ignore me?”

You smile at him apologetically and point at the room.

“I’m sorry, my prince, since there are so many people I have to help the others, not just prince Ivar, so I am busier than on others' feasts.” You explain to him and he hums.

“So that’s the reason why Ivar looks angry today after months,” He says and you laugh. “And by the way, you look amazing.”

You smile and give him a little show by turning around and showing him your dress, allowing him to look you up and down slowly, his stare lingering a little bit in your cleavage.

“Ivar gave me this dress as a gift and wished for me to wear it tonight so I did.” You say and he hums, his hand coming to your small back and leaning to talk right in your ear so no one could hear you.

“Don’t let no man but me take it off, yeah?” He whispers and you hum, moving till your lips are on his ear.

“Then make sure to not let me lose, my prince.”

And just like that, you move, going back to work as if you didn’t just give him the biggest boner he’s ever had.

And he did as you say, watching you like a hawk the whole night, not caring when you look in his direction and make movements with your hands to tell him to stop, he would just shrug and grab his cock over his pants for you to see and you would giggle and keep on your tasks.

“You shouldn’t drink more ale, otherwise the medicine I make for your legs is not going to have the effect,” You whisper in Ivar’s ear.

“If you bring me my medicine I’ll drink it now, but you have to promise me not to wake me up tomorrow so early to drink it.” He says with feigned anger, you nod.

“Deal.” You clap and turn around, walking to the kitchen.

You don’t have time to make it into the kitchen when you’re yanked and trapped between a stranger and the wall.

“W-who?!” You try to move.

Unknown to you, another man has been watching you too and was misunderstanding all your flirting with the prince, thinking you were just offering yourself to anybody instead.

“Come on, slave, satisfy me right now,” The man was trying to scrunch up your dress but you constantly elbowing him was making it difficult.

“Let me go! Let me go right now!” You scream, doing everything you can to not let his hand get under your dress.

Tired of your fidgeting the man throws you to the ground and that’s the moment Hvitserk grabs the man by the hair and pulls him back.

“What do you think you’re doing with my woman?” He grunts.

Ivar comes crawling as fast as he can and you crawl to him till you are close enough to let him wrap you in his arms, you’re trembling and Ivar has murder on his mind. Hvitserk looks worse than Ivar.

“W-what? No! It’s a slave, I was messing with a slave—,” The man tries to explain himself but is interrupted.

“MY slave.” “–MY woman,” The brothers say in unison and the color drains from the man’s face.

“No, no, no, my lords, i-i didn’t know, please forgive—,”

Even Ivar is impressed when he sees the tip of Hvitserk sword’s coming out of the man’s stomach, meaning his brother has just stabbed the man with no more questions to ask.

“Next time you better choose right.” Hvitserk grunts, pushing the man and watching the pool of blood coming from under him. He cleans his sword with the dead man’s clothes and only then looks at you.

He curses when he sees you with tears in your eyes and gripping Ivar’s clothes as if you’re afraid that he’s going to disappear. Hvitserk gets close and takes you in his arms, nodding to Ivar to let him know that he has you, and walks out of the great hall.

“I can walk,” You whisper.

“I know.” He murmurs.

You sigh and rest your head on his shoulder, letting him take you wherever he wants. He takes you to your home which is not so far from the great hall since Ivar wants you as close as he can get you. That’s the reason why you have your own house too, so he could come whenever he wants and not be seen as a monster by the other slaves.

“We are here,” He puts you down but you don’t move around, instead putting your hands on his chest and looking at him. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Thank you for protecting me, for killing for me,” You whisper, he put his hands on top of yours noticing that your trembling it’s almost gone.

“I would do that and more for you, are you hurt?” You shake your head without looking away and he sighs, leaning a little. “I said, don’t look at me like that.”

“Why?” You ask and his hands slowly slide from your hands to your shoulders and then all the way down until they stop at the small of your back.

“Because I will have a hard time controlling myself,” He whispers, leaning a little more. “I told you to not let another man but me take that dress off, you thought I wouldn’t follow through on that?”

“I was hoping for you to follow—,”

He crashes his lips with yours and you have to hold onto his arms to not fall from the force, but you kiss him back right away. He was devouring your mouth, working all that pent-up lust out of his body.

He bends a little to put his hand on the back of your knees and pull you up, forcing you to surround his waist with your legs, trapping him. He walks to the table there and place you on top, his lips going from your mouth to your neck.

He leans back and gives you a quick kiss before starting with your dress, undoing the front while you look at his face attentively.

“You’re gorgeous,” You whisper and he giggles but sucks a breath when he softly pulls down your dress, watching your upper half naked and ready for him.

“You’re the gorgeous one, my lady,” He whispers, and finishes taking the whole dress down your legs and then positions himself between them, looking down at your naked body with desire. “All this is mine?”

You shrug and he raises his eyebrows at your bratty attitude, loving it.

He returns to your neck and lick, bite, and mark every corner, letting a trail of kisses until he’s in front of your breast, he takes one in one hand and the other in his mouth, sucking, licking, and biting softly your nipple, making you let out a loud moan, he does the same to the other and you have to nail down his forearms to control your noises.

“Don’t have to hold back,” He mumbles, his voice sounding muffled. “Scream as much as you want.”

You tug at his clothes.

“I don’t want you in these.” You whine, and he stands up and starts taking everything off like it was on fire, just to then take you in his arms again and throw you on your bed.

He freezes when you hold yourself on your elbows and open your legs to him, giving him a clear view of all your glory. He falls on his knees and locks yours with his arms before diving right into your center, giving you a long lick without a warning.

“O-Ohh” You whine, your hand flying to his hair and gripping it.

He devours you like you’re what he needs to be kept alive, he doesn’t budge when you try to move his head when it’s getting too much, instead pinching your nipples as a punishment when you try to take your cunt away from him.

“I-I can’t,” You cry out, your legs shaking. “Hvitserk, p-please.”

He just hums with satisfaction and keeps going and it is when you look down that you find him already looking at you with adoration that you explode, coming right onto his mouth and crying his name so loud that you’re certain you were heard at least three houses away from where you are.

When he stands on his knees you’re trying to catch your breath, with a hand on your chest and another on your mouth.

“Open your eyes and look at me,” He whispers and you do it, he smiles. “You okay?”

“Nobody has ever done it so… vigorously,” You sob.

“You taste amazing,” He whispers as an explanation while getting on top of you and between your leg, he shrugs smugly. “Perhaps you haven’t been with a man that wants you as much as I do.”

You moan at his words and he takes his cock in his hand, coating it in your juices and his saliva, sighing at the feeling. When his tip is at your entrance he stops, just touching your clit with his tip.

“Please, I want you inside,” You beg and he ignores your pleas, you nail down his arm. “Hvitserk, please.”

“I’m going to ask you again, sweet Y/N,” He murmurs, kissing your lips softly. “All this is mine?”

“Y-Yes, it’s all yours, I am y-yours…. Oh, fuck,” You moan loudly when he thrust softly, going so slow that tears begin to form in the corner of your eyes. Good gods, he feels amazing inside of you. “S-so full.”

“You’re perfect, you feel perfect,” He moans in your ear making you tremble, keeping his thrusts slow and deep. “I’m losing my mind.”

“Yeah?” You say in a rushed voice, and he looks at you. “Please do, lose your mind and fuck me good, Hvitserk.”

Oh, what have you done?

He pulls out and flips you around on all four just to thrust again, hard, you scream and in response, he smacks your ass, you bring your hand back to try to slow him down but he just bends it at the elbow and traps it between your small back and his hand, showing you no mercy.

“Still mine?” He asks with a smug smile, oh how he adores the sounds you were making and how out of it you look.

“Yours, yours, just yours” You were chanting, bringing your other hand back to slow him down and getting it trapped too. You cry and sob and he moans.

“Give it to me, come on, give me what I want,” He grunts, he smacks your ass. “Give it to me.”

And in tune with his order, you scream, your vision going blank and your body shaking so much that he has to pin you down. He thrust three more times before shooting his seed inside you with a loud moan.

Instead of just pushing you around, as you are used, he pulls out and leans to let a path of wet kisses from your small back to your shoulder, he gives you one last kiss on the side of your head.

“Finally mine,” He whispers.

You smile and close your eyes.