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mads-weasley · 5 months ago

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I'll Find You

Hvitserk Ragnarsson x Shieldmaiden!Reader

Masterlist

A/N: enjoy!

Summary: Hvitserk is caught between both sides in the Battle for Kattegat. Torn between the woman he loves and his brother, he must make a choice.

Word Count: 3.2k

The Battle for Kattegat, the Battle of the Ragnarssons, raged across the misty field. The metallic smell of blood and harsh sounds of battle hung in the air: the clashing of swords and axes, battle cries, and screams of the wounded.

Who knew it would come to this?

Brother turning against brother, neighbor against neighbor. (Y/n) was caught in the middle, her heart torn between both sides. At one time, she'd promised to never leave his side, but when he jumped ship, he chose to leave her...to leave the people who loved him.

She remembered how his lip twitched as he stared back toward the shore. Toward Ivar. She'd reached for his arm, already anticipating his decision, but she was too late. Her fingers barely brushed his sleeve as he moved out of her reach. That was the day everything changed.

Even now, as she fought through the crowd of warriors, she unconsciously scanned the battlefield for his figure. A cry came from her right, and she turned to see another shieldmaiden with her axe on the way down. (Y/n) managed to lift her shield just in time, and the axe hit it with a loud crack, the impact sending painful shockwaves through her arm. With a grunt, she blocked another swipe and kicked the woman in the stomach before bringing her axe down into the shieldmaiden's neck with a bloody squelch.

(Y/n) readjusted her grip on the shield, wincing. It only took a moment for her to gather herself and sprint farther into the fray. She lost herself in the battle, and each slice of her axe sent a warm spray of blood across her face, the stray strands from her braid sticking to the substance.

Amid the battle, she saw him. He was a little ways ahead of her in front of the small river that separated Ivar and the rest of their forces from the fight. He fought like he always had, without restraint. (Y/n) had always called him her berserker because he truly was, but he never would admit it liked the nickname. There seemed to be two different men inside Hvitserk: the man on the battlefield and the man he was off. The latter, a highly observant and caring man she'd come to love.

She remembered the quiet moments they'd shared in England while fighting with the Great Heathen Army to avenge his father.

"Is England what you'd thought it would be?"

His lips tilted into a small lopsided smile, and he glanced over from where he sat beside her. "Not really. You?"

"I didn't know what to think," (y/n) sighed, looking back at the small river before them. "But it is beautiful."

The steady flow of the water filled the silence, and (y/n) felt peace for the first time in months. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, basking in the gentle sunlight that cascaded from the heavens. In all their time in England, the sun was not out often.

Feeling eyes on her, she glanced over at Hvitserk. Their gazes met for a moment before he quickly turned away, his cheeks reddening.

"I am glad you came with us, (y/n)," he admitted softly, his upper lip twitching out of habit.

(Y/n) slid closer and leaned into his side, resting her head on his shoulder. "I couldn't imagine staying in Kattegat while you were here fighting. If something happened to you, I-"

She trailed off as her throat tightened. The mere thought of his death...it was more than she could handle. Tearing his gaze away from the river, he gently cupped her cheek and turned her face toward him.

"The gods are not done with me yet, my love."

Making her way to him, (y/n) watched Hvitserk fight with the ferocity she'd seen since he first picked up a sword. The berserker in him had taken over. He effortlessly blocked the slashes of swords and axes of his enemies like it was all one big dance, and he knew the choreography.

(Y/n)'s focus was shattered when something collided with her side, sending her sprawling to the ground. Coughing, she pushed herself to her feet and turned her attention to the warrior who shed his shield in favor of dually wielding two axes. He swung one of the axes toward her head, and (y/n) barely had time to duck, feeling the blade whiz past her ear. She rolled to her feet and sidestepped the other axe aimed for her ribs.

With a grunt, she twisted her body and lifted her shield just in time to block the incoming blow. Her axe followed, and the man howled as it caught him in the arm, blood splattering across his face.

He staggered back with a snarl, but (y/n) didn’t let up. She closed the distance between them in two quick strides, knocking his remaining axe from his hand with a powerful swing, then brought her blade down on his shoulder. The man grunted in pain and dropped to his knees, unable to fight back any longer.

As he fell, (Y/n) turned, scanning the battlefield once more. Her heart skipped.

Hvitserk.

Her breath hitched as she watched him take a blow from an axe handle, sending him reeling backward and falling hard to the ground. Without hesitation, she surged forward. The world seemed to slow as she fought her way through the sea of warriors. Every instinct screamed at her to get to him, and her mind finished the sentence she hadn't dared to in England.

"If something happened to you, I...I would gladly follow you to Valhalla."

When she reached him, her legs nearly gave way. There he was, sprawling out in the dirt, his eyes wide as he gasped for air.

"Hvitserk!" she shouted, her voice cracking as she dropped to her knees beside him. She quickly turned him over, her hands shaking as she tried to pull him into a sitting position.

He continued to wheeze as he struggled to catch his breath. Hvitserk's gaze was unfocused, blinking as if he couldn’t make sense of the blurry figure in front of him.

"Breathe, Serk! Breathe!" She yelled, rubbing his cheeks gently. "Breathe!"

Little did she know he couldn't hear her. His mind replayed the events of the past year: England, jumping ship, his last conversation with Ivar.

"What do you fear most, dear brother?" Ivar asked. "The loss of thought or memory?

"My thoughts and memories seem to be the same. Every time I think, I always remember the day I jumped out of Ubbe's ship."

When I left her...it went unsaid.

Ivar shrugged, making a pushing motion with his hands. "But you didn't jump. The gods pushed you."

"Don't take it away from me," Hvitserk snarked. "I wasn't pushed. I decided to do it."

"Ah. And I think you still regret it."

Hvitserk paused, his mind wandering. "My only regret is that I don't have any children...and"

"(Y/n)?" Ivar chuckled and tilted his head, his lips quirking into a smirk. "You regret leaving her."

He did. More than anything. But he had to live with the consequences of his actions. "Yes," he said quietly, his gaze falling to the dirt.

Ivar's smirk turned sinister. "She will be there today. Are you willing to do what it takes?"

Hvitserk glanced up at him, his lip twitching as he tried to contain his anger. "What?"

"You heard me," he shrugged. "She chose her side, and you chose yours, poor Hvitserk. Will she hesitate to kill you?"

He didn't know, but Hvitserk did know that he could never raise a hand against her. If she felt differently, he would gladly let her strike him down.

The memory dissipated suddenly, and he became aware of himself once again. Something was holding his face, but the blur of his vision made it impossible to see exactly who.

Then he heard her voice. It was muffled, but unmistakably hers.

After a moment, he finally got control of his breathing and pulled sweet oxygen into his burning lungs. He blinked as his vision and hearing returned to normal. Her eyes were the first thing he saw.

(Y/n) leaned over him, her brows creased in concern as her voice became clear. "You have to get up! You're okay! You're okay!"

She glanced behind her and quickly disappeared from his view. He heard the familiar sound of clashing swords and iron meeting flesh.

'What is happening?' he thought. Then it hit him. The battle.

Hvitserk rolled over and pushed himself up, still gasping, and grabbed his sword and shield. Staggering to his feet, he found (y/n) battling one of her own warriors, who looked confused as to why she was defending the traitorous Ragnarsson. She kicked him in the chest and sent him flying to the ground with a thud. He wouldn't be a bother for a little while. Finally turning, (y/n)'s eyes met Hvitserk's, and relief flooded her body.

He was okay.

She barely had time to catch her breath before a new enemy charged toward her, forcing her to raise her shield. She blocked the blow, gritting her teeth as the impact jarred her shoulder. Hvitserk, now steady on his feet, roared and stepped forward, deflecting the warrior’s second strike with his axe.

Their eyes met again, just for a moment. The battle roared on around them, but between the chaos, it felt like the world had paused. Blood smeared both their faces, and their chests heaved with exertion, yet they stood there, staring at each other.

She still loved him. He could see it in her eyes as they looked upon him with a familiar softness.

Before either of them could say a word, another figure rushed toward (y/n), axe raised high. Hvitserk’s instincts kicked in, and without thinking, he lunged forward and knocked the assailant aside with his shield, sending the man crashing into the mud. He didn’t pause to finish the enemy off, and his attention snapped back to (y/n).

As the battle raged on, Hvitserk fought with every ounce of his strength, cutting down those who came too close to them. He knew she didn’t need saving and was capable of handling herself, but he couldn’t stop the fear that gripped him every time she was too close to death’s reach...too close to Ivar's reach.

He shoved a warrior aside with his shield just as another came for (y/n). She didn’t see him coming, but Hvitserk did, and he swung his axe in a wide arc, catching the man’s shoulder and sending him crashing to the ground.

(Y/n) glanced over her shoulder, her lips curling into something like a half-smile of thanks, but it didn’t last. She turned her attention back to the fight, but the brief moment made Hvitserk’s chest tighten. There was so much he wanted to say, so much he needed her to understand.

He was sorry, he still loved her, he still wanted a future with her...

Then, the horn sounded.

A sharp, unmistakable note. The retreat. Bjorn's forces were losing.

Ivar was winning.

But that wasn’t what shook Hvitserk to his core. It was the realization of what that meant for (y/n). If she didn’t leave now, Ivar would hunt her down the very moment the battle was over, just like he would do to Lagertha, Ubbe, Bjorn, and all the other leaders.

She wouldn’t survive.

His heart raced in his chest as he turned to her. She was scanning the battlefield, looking for her next warrior to fight, unaware of the danger closing in around her. He reached for her and grabbed her arm, his grip tightening as the horn's echo lingered in the air.

“You need to go,” he said, his voice raw.

(Y/n) shook her head in defiance. “I’m not leaving you, Hvitserk,” she replied, pulling her arm free of his grasp.

His lips pressed into a tight line, and he shook his head. “You have to. Ivar won’t let you live. He’ll come for you, for all of you.”

Hvitserk’s chest tightened. Blood smeared across her face, but the fire in her eyes was unmistakable. He knew her. He knew how stubborn and fierce she was. But he also knew what Ivar would do.

"Ivar will hunt you down. He'll kill you without hesitation. He won't care that you're..." his voice faltered. "He won't care what you mean to me."

Her eyes softened at the admission, and for a moment, the noise of the battlefield around them faded away. She reached for his cheek, brushing away the dirt and blood. “And you’ll stay with him?”

Hvitserk closed his eyes for a moment, leaning into her touch. He wanted so badly to walk away with her, to take her far from this madness. But the pull of his brother, of the bond they shared...even with all the brokenness...he couldn't let it go.

“I don’t have a choice,” he admitted. “He’s my brother. If I don’t stand with him, I’ll lose more than I already have.”

(Y/n) swallowed hard, blinking away the sting of tears. “You’ll lose me, too,” she said gently.

His eyes opened, meeting hers with a conflicted gaze. “I lost you the day I jumped ship,” he murmured. “And it’s haunted me every moment since. But I have to see this through...I can’t leave him.”

A small, sad smile tugged at her lips as her hand fell from his face. She could see the pain etched into his features. “I know,” she whispered, her voice cracking slightly. "You're being torn apart. I can see it in your eyes."

Her words broke something in him. He dropped his forehead to hers, his breath shuddering. “My love,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

(Y/n) closed her eyes, savoring the closeness she'd longed for for months. She cupped his face again with her free hand, her thumb brushing against the roughness of his cheek. “I know,” she said softly. “I know you are.”

The horn sounded again, louder this time. A reminder that their moment was slipping away.

“Stay alive, my love,” he whispered, his lips brushing her skin lightly as the words left his mouth. “Stay alive. Please.”

(Y/n) couldn't speak as emotion washed over her.

“Now go,” he repeated, pulling back just enough to look at her. “Please.”

Her lips trembled, but she nodded. “Promise me that you’ll find your way back to me someday.”

Hvitserk's lip twitched...a ghost of the smile she remembered. “I’ll find you.”

With one last lingering look, (y/n) stepped back, her hand sliding from his face. “I’ll see you again,” she said, her voice steady despite the tears threatening to fall.

Hvitserk nodded, his eyes never leaving her. “Go,” he urged.

And then, with one last look, she turned and ran. Hvitserk watched until she disappeared into the chaos, and his heart broke a little more with every step she took away from him. Only then did he turn his focus back on the battle, gripping his axe tightly. With a loud roar, he charged the nearest enemy.

The berserker was back.

6 Months Later

The battle was over. Ivar had been defeated at last.

Hvitserk stood beside Bjorn and King Herald in the square as King Olaf stood before them, a blue flag in his hand.

"Here's to the new year of all our lives, Bjorn Ironside," he announced, handing the flag to the eldest Ragnarsson.

Hvitserk couldn't help the smile that tugged at the corner of his lips. It was finally over. After all the time he spent with Ivar, he could finally have peace, he finally got his home back. The people of Kattegat would no longer have a cruel dictator ruling over them.

A commotion rippled through the onlookers as figures emerged from the edges of the square, and Hvitserk’s heart skipped when he saw them...Ubbe, Torvi, and…her.

(Y/n).

For a moment, Hvitserk froze. His heart thudded against his chest, and he felt an overwhelming rush of relief. There she was...alive. After everything. His breath caught in his throat. He wasn’t sure what to do at first. So much had happened, and in the chaos of battle and their long separation, he hadn’t allowed himself to fully imagine this moment. He watched as she took a few tentative steps forward.

Then, as if something within him finally snapped, Hvitserk took a breath, his eyes locked onto hers, and he quickly walked toward her. When they were mere feet apart, Hvitserk’s resolve faltered. He didn’t wait any longer. His arms went around her instinctively, and he lifted her off her feet.

He felt the warmth of her against him, the familiar weight of her body, and everything else fell away. For that brief moment, there was nothing but her...alive, in his arms. His breath came in a rush, his chest tight with emotion as he held her there, not caring about the stares of those around him, not caring about anything but the overwhelming sense of relief that surged through him.

"I found you," Hvitserk whispered hoarsely, his voice cracking slightly as the words escaped him. It was the promise he'd made when they'd parted on the battlefield months before.

(Y/n)’s arms wrapped around his neck and she buried her face in the crook of his neck. Her touch was the thing he didn’t even realize he needed. After everything he had been through, the battles, the loss, the guilt, her touch was the only thing that made everything feel still...like he could breathe again.

Slowly, he lowered her back to the ground, his hands lingering on her arms, almost afraid to let go. But she wasn’t waiting for him to speak. Her warm hands came up to his face, her fingers brushing over his bloody jaw, and she smiled softly, the tears in her eyes making his heart beat impossibly faster.

"I think I'm the one that found you," she smirked, tearily gazing up at him.

A breathy laugh left his lips as he opened his mouth to speak, but the words failed him. What could he say? Everything felt too small to capture what he was feeling in this moment.

"I—" he started, his voice low and rough. But before he could finish, he closed the space between them. His lips brushed hers softly at first, gentle and lingering. The kiss was tentative as if they were both savoring the moment, tasting the reunion. Hvitserk’s fingers lightly cupped her face, gently tracing the curve of her jaw.

When they pulled away, he rested his forehead against hers. "I love you," he murmured. "I'm never leaving you again."

(Y/n) smiled through the tears, her fingers brushing the blood on his face as she leaned in again, this time with more confidence.

"Good," she whispered against his lips.

She then fully pressed her lips to his, and this time, Hvitserk didn’t hesitate. His hands slid down her back, pulling her closer and deepening the kiss. There was a heat to it now, the emotions spilling out in the press of their lips.

When they broke apart again, Hvitserk’s breath was a little uneven. His eyes locked on hers as he gently touched her cheek. "Marry me."

She nodded immediately, tugging him down towards her with a wide smile. "Yes."

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welikeimagines-andfandoms · 1 year ago

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Kinktober Day 18: Spanking- Hvitserk Ragnarsson

Summary: Your stupid actions on the battlefield have consequences

Word count: 1, 536

You knew he was angry, even before he started yelling. Honestly you knew even before you saw his face that he was angry. Your reckless behaviour on the battle field may have caused Ivar to laugh, but Hvitserk had grabbed you and dragged you away as soon as you made it back to camp.

“How could you be so reckless and so stupid?!” He yelled at you as you stumbled into the large tent.

Ripping your arm out of his grasp you scoff and roll your eyes. Folding your arms over your chest you look at him with a smirk.

“Don’t you smirk at me like that!” He shouted at you, getting right into your face.

Rolling your eyes, you look down and purse your lips, trying to suppress a smirk.

Groaning and turning away from you, Hvitserk couldn’t help but pace and mutter to himself. He tried not to get angry, not wanting to turn into how Ivar could be sometimes. It felt odd not to see his charming smile on his face but you weren’t ready to apologise for this.

You probably shouldn’t have pushed him but your strong head was clouding logic.

“I wasn’t even hurt and it wasn’t stupid. I saved our men doing that and look,” you argue, lifting your arms and turning, “not a scratch on me. I am not a child, Hvitserk, I don’t need you holding my hand and telling me off!” You yelled at him, anger now growing as you begin to storm off.

A harsh and slightly painful grip on your upper arm stopped you before you could make it to the tent flaps to leave. Growling, Hvitserk harshly pulls you until your faces are a just a breath apart.

His fiercely angry eyes looking into yours now making you feel his terror. Those strong and intense eyes of a warrior also fill your body with a feeling of warm arousal.

“That’s exactly what you are. You are just a little girl who needs to learn her place.” He harshly growls at you.

Not being able to stop the moan from escaping you, he smirks devilishly as he can see the effect he’s having on you.

“Maybe that’s what you need, little girl. Need me to spank you so you’ll learn?” He whispers hotly into your ear.

All you can do is gasp and moan at his words, but that’s not what he’s looking for.

“Answer me.” He demands, his nose now pressing against yours.

“Yes.” Is all you can whisper out as his hand grabs at your ass.

Looking into his fierce eyes once again, you begin to lean in to kiss him, but he leans away chuckling. He smirks again at your whimper of protest.

“Good girls get kisses,” he taunts grabbing at your hair roughly to pull your head back, “you have not been a good girl.” Smirking at pouting lip and sad eyes, he gives your ass a hard slap, earning a yelp from you in return.

“If you want to be a good girl, you’ll strip down for me and sit down on the bed nicely. Go on then.” He orders as he releases your arm, slapping your ass once again as you walk towards the bed in his large tent.

Taking his place on a large arm chair across from the bed, his eyes watch your every move as you begin to remove your clothes. He can’t tear his eyes away from your form as each layer of clothing is removed, to reveal your gorgeous figure underneath.

Once you are completely naked and standing before him, he does not utter a word. His eyes look into yours more intensely as he raises an eyebrow and flicks his eyes into the direction of the bed. He doesn’t need to say a single word and yet his order is extremely clear.

You can feel the tingling heat rush through your body as you crawl onto the bed, making a show of moving your ass as you go. You may want to be a good girl but that doesn’t mean you can’t tease him a bit. He knows exactly what you’re doing, as a deep moan is heard over your shoulder with your ass is on full display for him.

Knowing that you’re teasing him, he doesn’t give you a moment to comfortably sit down before his hand is back in your hair, pulling your head back to look at him.

“Don’t you want to be a good girl? Earn my sweet touches and maybe even a blissful release?” He asks looking down on you from your kneeling position on his bed.

“Yes, Hvitserk, I want to be a good girl.” You moan and gasp out as your eyes close.

“Then why” he emphasises by pulling your hair once again, causing your eyes to open “must you tease me so? You will take your punishment and maybe then you will obey me and you’ll learn some manners.” He growls out at you.

Swiftly he moves to sit on the bed, feet placed firmly on the ground as he drags you across his lap by your hair. One hand across your upper back and the other placed on your ass, you feel both scared and aroused. You are at the mercy of a fierce warrior and there is nothing you can do but take your punishment.

“You’re going to count every slap I give you and if you miss a number we start over. Do you understand?” He whispers hotly in your ear as his fingers begin to lightly descend to your pussy, barely even touching it, simply teasing you as if you require more punishment.

“I understand.” You pitifully whisper out.

“Good.” He curtly states as one harsh blow makes its way to your ass.

“One!” You scream out at the hard crack sound from his harsh blow.

Soon another hot sting is felt but on the other cheek.

“Two!” You pitifully squeal out again.

One after the other, blow after blow, he hits and you count, wanting nothing more than to be a good girl for this handsome warrior.

“Aaa-aah! Te-ten!” You finally scream out.

With your breath heaving you find yourself going limp in Hvitserks arms. Huffing and moaning you squirm around in his lap. Seeing your tired movements he can’t help but let out a little chuckle as he lightly rubs your sore pink ass lovingly.

“You did so well, princess. I think you deserve a reward.” He sweetly whispers in your ear, a total opposite man to the one who had just been attacking your behind for the past couple minutes.

At hearing the sweet name and the promise of a reward you begin to happily moan and push into his hand that has begun stroking your hair.

“Come on, sweet girl, lay down on the bed for me.” He gently coos as he softly manoeuvres you.

Now laying on your back and seeing the handsome prince kneeling between your spread legs, you can’t help but give him a sweet dopey smile.

“You want me to make you cum, little girl?” He asks you sweetly, his finger tips beginning to stroke along your wet pussy.

“Definitely feels like you do.” He lightly laughs as he begins coating his fingers in your wetness, fingers running up and down your pussy.

“Please make me cum, Hvitserk, please.” You whine at the prince above you as you begin to squirm towards his touch.

“Okay, sweet girl.” He replies to your pleas.

One hand on your cheek and the other still between your legs, he leans down and kisses you passionately as two fingers enter your eager core. You can’t help but moan out as he breaks the kiss and begins to curl his fingers up and into that sweet spot inside you.

“That’s right, princess, moan and cry out, enjoy your reward.” He whispers hotly against the sensitive skin of your neck.

Hvitserk knew exactly what he was doing as he pulled back from your neck and his other hand joined in bringing you closer to your release. Now playing with your clit, his movements speed up, causing your moans to become louder and louder.

You can feel the sweet coil inside your lower belly tighten and your walls beginning to flutter as you reach your release. In only a few short minutes Hvitserk causes that coil to snap and a filthy moan is pulled from your lips.

Your body is twitching and your hips grind into his fingers that remain inside you, riding out your release as he comes back to your lips. Kissing you sweetly, your hands make their way into his hair, lightly stroking and pulling at the long locks.

Moving gently to lay beside you, he makes a show of putting his wet fingers into his mouth, moaning as he taste you.

“You taste absolutely delicious, my sweet girl.” He tells you, looking directly to your eyes.

With his now cleaned hand he reaches out for you hips, pulling you into his arms.

“Sleep now, sweet girl, you did very well.” He tells you with a sweet kiss to your head, as your exhausted body slips into sleep.

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multific · 2 years ago

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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.

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ch3rrybbie · 3 months ago

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Hi lovely, I want to request Ivar from Vikings! I hope that's okay, if not, that'll be totally fine! 🤗

I wanna request Ivar x saxon reader who came to Kattegat as a slave and who was sold to Lagertha. In her hometown she was forced to wear a blindfold made of black lace so no one could see her eyes because they were deemed as demonic from the church. Like her eyes are really crystalline and were unsettling for Christians, and she continues to wear it even in Kattegat. Perhaps the young Rangarsson finds himself to wonder about her and one day a jealous woman rips it from her face during a festive in the main hall when she was serving ivar...?

I know it's a lot but I've been thinking about this all week. 😭✨ Thank you so much!

Angel eyes

summary: Ivar thinks your eyes must be Gods-sent.

warnings: Margrethe being Margrethe, vikings scaring reader, Ivar being Ivar.

ch3rrybbie says: love the request bby, I changed it a lil hope you don’t mind🩷 sorry it took so long lol

———

It’s been three whole moons away from England. Away from the cruelty you knew, but that cruelty was yours. It was home.

Kattegat wasn’t too dissimilar to England but it wasn’t the same.

You trudged through the thick mud of the central market. People didn’t stare at you and you reveled in the anonymity. The thin cotton you always wore around your eyes shielding your oddities was nothing to the people of Kattegat and you had grown to love it during the few days you’d spent here.

Lagethera had brought you along wanting to show you the ways of her culture. After being sold to her she declared you free yet you refused,you would not settle to a life here. You wished to serve her in hopes you could make enough money to flee home.

Slave to handmaiden.

Handmaiden to home.

You refused to learn to fight, to speak her tongue comfortably, to like the viking life. The foolish hope of home held strong within you. And yet you knew you’d never return to England you’d seen what they’d done to the village of those who’d ostracised and belittled you. Luckily your family was away selling the spoils of their labour at market.

They would’ve come back to an empty village stinking of death. The thought makes your heart clench and your steps falter.

Lagertha had playfully commanded you go out and see Kattegat, to see her ex-husbands lands. And to bring her seawater, its purpose left you clueless but you obeyed.

The heathens were strange people after all.

And yet your own had forced you to learn to squint through your blindfold to see shapes and sounds.

To live life veiled.

———

Lagertha was repulsed by the idea. The Christian rigidity that had left you believing in the need to hide your eyes.

She watched you from afar, leant against the entrance of the great hall. You were a sweet girl yet you could be so much more.

And she would see to it.

Ragnar follows her gaze, “what is so special about this slave anyways?”

Lagertha’s head whips towards him, “she is no slave Ragnar, she is blessed by the Gods”

Ragnar’s laugh almost shakes the great hall itself, he walks off still chuckling.

———

Later as the moon begins its race to the crest of the sky you braid Lagertha’s hair. The bucket of seawater stuck out in the corner.

“Why did you ask for the seawater?” You break the gentle silence and she turns smiling at you softly.

“Bring it here” she gestures towards it a sly smirk emerging upon her face.

Standing in front of her seawater at hand she starts to command you.

“Smell it”

“Taste it”

“Feel it”

You end up giggling at the foolish tasks until she asks.

“What is the difference between this seawater and England’s?”

The smile drops from your face and you set the bucket down and return to your tasks bring her dress to ready her for the great feast.

“My sweet girl this is your fate do not run from it, you will come to love Kattegat as much as England as there isn’t much difference”.

“To you, there isn’t much difference to you, my lady” the words bite bitterly at her.

She sighs and you step back from her outstretched arms. You didn’t understand her fondness of you.

“We must go to the hall” you turn on your heel and march into the frosty air, she follows carefully.

———

You pause outside, the noise reminding you of the nights spent around a fire at home.

Perfumed with smoke and stories of old.

You shake the thought away and wait for Lagertha. She come to you a hand on your shoulder and squeezes gently.

“You ready?”, you nod and clench you fists at your sides as she pushes the door open.

Truth is you’d never be ready for a feasting hall full of vikings.

“Mother!” A thundering voice cuts through the rowdy masses.

Bjorn comes thumping over sweeping Lagertha into a crushing hug. Once their greetings are finished he turns to you inquisitively

“And who is this little birdy mother” you manage to grasp from your basic understanding of their tounge.

He reaches to peek under your eye covering and instinctively you slap his hand away. Your breath catches as you wait to be struck to the ground.

Instead a sharp laugh cuts at your action you turn to see someone with eyes almost as striking as yours. He regards you a cruel smile and glaringly sharp beauty confronts you. You hold back a gasp and turn from his gaze. Bjorn is also bellowing out a laugh.

“I am sorry bird, ignore Ivar” he plants a kiss on his mother’s cheek and is gone into the crowd of hedonism.

It was going to be a long night.

———

Refusing to sit by Lagertha’s side you stood ignoring the curious looks from Aslaug.

You couldn’t stop thinking about Ivar. It was so strange, he didn’t seem to mock you.

“Hello birdy” a gruff tease voice floats out behind you.

You whip round to see a man that looks exactly like an older Bjorn, Ragnar you conclude.

“Why do you stand here all alone, hmm? Lagertha tells me you are a free woman, here free woman can do as they please you should try it!” He chuckles and it takes you aback, he doesn’t know you yet he treats you like he has for years.

You don’t speak and turn to watch the crowds further, eyes searching for Ivar.

He’s looking right back at you, with a gasp you turn away.

“You know, I had a friend like you once” Ragnar whispers, voice taught with emotion. The pain in his voice pulls you from thoughts of Ivar.

At that you turn and take him in. Towering next to you he looks deep in grief. Eyes watery and gone to distant memories, you recognise it all too well.

“I’m sorry for your loss” you murmur, their language is crude and harsh on your tounge.

Your voice pulls him back, he grabs your shoulder and thanks you with a smile.

And once again you’re alone amongst heathens.

———

“Girl! Come serve me wine” a voice throws its self against you cutting through the bustle of the hall.

Ivar.

“Ivar do not command her like that!” Lagertha bites at him.

You frown at her remark and make your way over.

Aslaug is watching you as though you are a mirage, you ignore her stares and focus on the task at hand.

“She is no servant, please sit down” Lagertha implores you and you ignore her, Ragnar watches on curiously.

Fingers clasping over the mead jug you come closer towards Ivar ignoring the way he drinks you in.

“Surely she’s just a servant” a pretty blonde remarks from a group of boys, the rest of Ragnar’s sons you presume.

“You will watch your tongue upon my mother’s friend Margrethe” Bjorn booms at her, seemingly tired of her presence.

Lagertha frown and you lean to pour Ivar more mead.

“Thank you” he grins up at you, ignoring him you turn to be met by Margrethe.

“Why do you wear that silly cloth on your face?” She giggles and takes you in.

Everyone watches with bated breath.

Someone cuts out her name as another warning.

Attempting to step past her you don’t make it far.

“Here let me help you slave”

Her nails scrape against your skin, harsh in its endeavour.

The room brightens and grows in life as you see it more clearly.

An outraged roar emerges as Margrethe is chastised greatly. Everyone turns to look and the same whispers you’ve heard your whole life break out.

“Blessed Freya” sounded in a wave of murmurs.

The seer shuffles over parting the crowd and you retreat slowly. His interest peaked at such an odd display.

“My child you are kissed by the Gods, you shall see to their vision” his words curl through the fog of fear.

Embarrassed you flee the hall into the icy night and collapse in a heap by the fjord.

Finally you have peace.

They hadn’t cast curses or spat at your feet. They were almost reverent in their discovery of you. Perhaps they truly believe you were someone sent or blessed by their heathen Gods.

A repetitive click and shuffle sounds behind you and you whip around to see Ivar approaching. Embarrassed you turn back to look at the still waters, struggling to think upon his intentions. He groans as he lowers himself aside you.

“You know you didn’t have to run off so quick birdy” he chuckles cruelly

“You would do well not to mock me” you bite back and he simply laughs in your face.

“Maybe you really are sent by the Gods, no other woman in the whole of Kattegat would speak to me this way” he seems to grow serious and take you in.

Fixated on your eyes he stares into them, “They really are beautiful you should not cover them anymore, I command it so”.

“You command it so!” You can’t help exclaim incredulous. Dragged from home and commanded by the bratty son of a king.

“Yes I command it so!” He giggles and watches your perplexed face. You resort back to silence and the pair of you just sit there until he coaxes you to talk of England.

So you do.

You tell him of its fields and wildflowers. How the moon feels different and the sun is sweeter. How the grass will always be greener to you and the songs louder.

And for once he just listens and he knows you were meant for him. Every laugh and lilt makes his heart climb. Without telling you he makes a prayer to the Gods commanding you be by his side every day till death do you part. That you may tell him what you please and speak how no woman ever had to him.

And for the first time you’d found something wholly dissimilar to England and you wouldn’t compare it for all the homesickness in your heart. You could not have found Ivar in England. You would never have found the appreciation of your beauty there.

With the intermission of his laugh at your tales, you thank his Gods and yours for kissing your eyes.

———

Lagertha and Ragnar watch your silhouettes from the mouth of the great hall. They needn’t speak the thoughts they share but they know the nights they’d spent together talking till the sun kissed the fjord had seemingly come to life in front of them.

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1-800-choke-me · 1 year ago

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Hvitserk: I sleep with an axe under my pillow

Ubbe: I sleep with a knife under mine

Y/N: you're both pathetic

Hvitserk: oh yeah, than what do you sleep with?

Y/N: Ivar

#vikings tv #ivar x reader #ivar imagine #ivar lothbrok #ivar ragnarsson #ivar the boneless #ivar ragnarsson x reader #ivar the boneless x reader #hvitserk #ubbe ragnarsson

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axelsagewrites · 11 months ago

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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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avalilsbfss · 5 months ago

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Ivar the boneless - be quiet 18+ (request)

Anonymous: ”Hello! I’ve read your Ivar short and I was wondering if you could do an ivar smut? I don’t really have any ideas for it but i was thinking a puplic thing… if your up for it.

Because ivar is so abjfcbtscb 😫🤭”

Ivar x partner!reader

Warnings: SMUT, fingering, public fingering. No orgasm

Description: you started flirting with Hvitserk to make ivar jealous and it wasn’t well received.

P.s: Idk what point it the series this is set so just go with it.

Ivar watched as you laughed at Hvitserks terrible joke. Why the hell were you laughing?.

You and ivar had an argument last night and honesty neither of you could remember what it was about.

You were obviously flirting with Hvitserk and you were doing it to annoy ivar. Ivar was sitting next to you while Hvitserk sat across from you both the table In between you two

You weren’t really acknowledging Ivar until you felt his large hand on your thigh.

You snapped your head over to him and he just looked away, you shook your head and just continued to talk with Hvitserk, trying to ignore his touch.

Ivars fingers worked slowly to scrunch your dress up to your thigh, causing your breath to hitch.

Your dress was scrunched up to your thigh and Ivar had was running along the bare skin. Merely brushing over the mound behind your undergarments causing you squeeze your legs together tightly.

Hvitserk gave you a look and you cleared your throat and apologised, and as you did Ivar gently circled your clit over the fabric of you panties.

You could only feel the light teasing pressure against your clit, causing you to desperately move your hips to feel more. And ivar smirked to himself

Ivar pushed your panties to the side and slipped a thick finger through your slick, you let out a shaky sigh and tried to save face

He gently circled your clit and rolled it between his two middle fingers causing you to press your lips tightly together to. You almost chocked on your drink when he slipped a finger inside you and curled it in a come hither motion. Ivar smirked and started to thrust his finger in and out and you gripped your cup tightly as Hvitserk refilled it.

Ivar slipped in another finger and moved his hand faster, you leaned over to ivar and whispered “ivar stop it” you whispered desperately.

Ivar smirked and shrugged and simply slipped out his fingers leaving you empty.

Hii! Feel free to give me suggestions i write for, Peaky Blinders, HOTD, GoT and Vikings trust me I’m very excited for new suggestions all are welcome <3 (all so check out my master list if you wanna)

Masterlist

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mushies-stories · 1 year ago

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Ubbe X F!Reader 18+ SMUT

Summary: you are the youngest of 2 sisters and 2 brothers and are betrothed to Ubbe, but he seems to have little doubts about what's best for you. you show him just how much those worries don't matter and how much you need him.

Warnings: smut, sex, piv, fingering, pet names, creampie, No use of Y/N

Authors note: i fucking love Ubbe, he's soft and gentle and i love him so much. like this is probably hella OC but romantic sweet Ubbe is my all-time favorite.

Word count: 3776

Ubbe entered your chambers with snow still clinging to the fur that covered most of his body. You watched him from your warm place in bed with a small smile. “Ubbe, your trailing snow everywhere.” you note, watching globs of melting snow fall with a plot to the wooden floor.

With a glance and sullen smile Ubbe nods and shrugs the furs from his shoulders and lets them fall to the floor by the door. “Sorry princess.” He mumbles softly and steps to stand before the fireplace, back facing you.

He looked tired, a little irritated maybe and it made your brows furrow at his behavior. So far, he had been the sweet and happy one, the nice brother and that was why you had agreed a few weeks ago to marry him. You were both graciously given a few weeks to make it official and have the wedding, but time was almost up. You had decided he was the perfect choice practically instantly and thought he felt the same.

Slowly you pull the duvet back and shiver as you slip off the bed in your nightgown and pad over to Ubbe. He doesn’t turn from the warm fire even when he hears you, his head hangs just a little and his eyes are focused low. When you stepped in front of him your eyes easily locked with his as you tilted your own head a little to look up at him. You gave him a small smile and he returned it but with a more dejected expression.

“What is wrong, Ubbe?” you ask with a soft voice, brows knitted together in concern.

His eyes softened a little, your concern for him warming his heart. “I'm sorry to worry you.” he says and brings a hand up to cradle your cheek, smiling a little more when you lean into his touch. “You are perfect, sweet and beautiful.” His compliments make your heart swell, his affection had such a deep effect on you and you loved that, you never thought an arranged marriage would bring feelings like these. “But I worry, my love… My family, my world is rough and you are so kind and innocent.” he says, not wanting to speak the thoughts running through his head, the troubles behind his pale eyes.

You rest a hand on the one holding your cheek and nuzzle into it even more, you smile sweetly up at him and take a step closer so your body is nearly pressed against his own. “Ubbe, I love you.” you state simply, pure affection in your tone. “With you I will be okay, I am not afraid to be with you or your people.” you turn into his hand and leave a tender kiss to his palm before pulling back and taking his hand from your face into your hand. Holding his hand you intertwine your fingers and admire how they fit together, how he held you own, strong and safe. “I want to be with you Ubbe, don't you want to be with me as well?” you ask, looking up at him with doe eyes.

Ubbe’s heart raced as he looked down at you, so sweet and ready to give him your love. His smile grows and his hands come down to hold gentle to your waist, pulling you a little closer so your bodies are flushed together now.. “Yes Y/N, I want to be with you.” he says with a short nod. “I love you. From the moment I met you I have loved you.” he confesses, eyes gentle and bright when he looks down at you.

You chuckle softly and smile as you bring your hands up to cup his face. “Well then, nothing to worry about. I want you Ubbe, I want to be with you. I have never felt this way about another person before so please don't push me away. We can handle any problem that comes along when it does okay?” you offer and he nods, agreeing with a love sick smile.

You knew how to help calm him of his troubles already so easily. He knew you would be good for him. He wanted just as much to be with you, you were perfect in his eyes. The short amount of time you’ve had to talk and get to know one another created an instant bond he knew he wanted to protect.

“Good. Now, how about we wed the day after tomorrow?.” you ask hopefully.

“Day after tomorrow.” Ubbe agrees, his smile remaining just as bright as your own. He pulled your hips a little to get you closer and leaned down a little, just enough for your lips to meet.

The kiss was slow, soft and sweet to begin with, his hands keeping a gentle hold of your hips as he licked across your bottom hip. Losing yourself fast in his embrace you slide your arms around his neck, pressing your chest against his and parting your lips to grant him the access he was asking for. He slides his tongue past your soft lips and takes dominance over the kiss and explores your mouth and tongue with his own, wanting to memories your taste and kiss. His hands began to wander and reach around your body. One hand came to rest on your lower back while the other slipped lower, rubbing softly before gently cupping as much of your ass that his hand could fit.

You gasped and moaned softly into the kiss, your body attempting to press even the tiniest bit closer to Ubbes invitingly warm embrace. You had been taking it slow and waiting until you were married, you were a princess after all. Ubbe was making you want more, making your body crave to be touched by him. He released your now pretty puffy lips with a soft breathy as he looked into your glossy eyes. Your chest is rising and falling faster now and a blush is deepening over your cheeks. “Princess, if you keep looking at me like this I don't know if I can hold myself back until our wedding night.” He chuckled again, and squeezed your ass one more time and pushed your lower back into him.

You gasp and arch your ass into his touch. You looked up at him with big eyes and bit your bottom lip. You pull away and Ubbe reluctantly lets you slip from his arms as you take a step back. Your body was acting before your brain could think, the desire to be closer to him and have more of him was growing. You wanted to show him just how much you truly wanted to be with him, wedding customs be damned. You pull on the fabric of your dress slowly, the fire behind you casting a shadow over most of your form as you pull the white nightgown over your naked body and let it fall to the ground. Your heart was racing and you could feel how hot your face and body were becoming from being so open and bare in front of him.

Ubbes eyes widen as he takes in the sight, he takes a sharp inhale when you look up at him with the sweetest doe eyes. “Are you sure, my love? We can wait, I do not mind.” Ubbe reassured you gently, taking a step closer and raising a hand to cradle your cheek as he looked into your eyes.

You smile softly up at him and nuzzle your cheek into his palm. “Yes Ubbe, I want you.” you confess, voice hushed and sweet.

Ubbes hand retracted only for him to bend down and reach under your thighs with both hands to lift you up. Your legs instinctively wrap tightly around his waist while your arms fly to his shoulders. He held you a moment before the fire, admiring your features and memorizing all the little details he could see before he slowly turned and started walking you to the bed and laying you down. “You’ll tell me if you want to stop, okay?” he said before crawling into the bed with you and placing your head onto the pillows. He hovered over you, hips resting softly between your legs, bare pussy pressed against the fabric covering his now hardening cock. “If it hurts too much, tell me, I'll make it feel better.” he says, eyes staring at you with such tender care.

You nod softly and pull him down a little to give his lips soft peck. “I will.” you confirm. “Just… Please Ubbe, I want to feel you.” you say almost desperately. You push your hips up a little, your pussy already starting to drip from feeling him pressed against you, teasing your clit with every little movement.

One arm came to rest next to your head while the other traveled down until his calloused fingers were teasing your slick folds open and rubbing at your clit. “You will, you’ll feel all of me, my love i promise.” he says sweetly as he looks down at you, watching your face as he slides his middle finger to your tight hole and teased you, threatening to slide the long digit in only to move away and focus on your clit again.

“Ubbe, you're just teasing me.” you pout, voice a little whiny and breathless.

Ubbe looks at you with a little sympathy in his eyes. “You're right, we have time for that later. I just want to make sure you're ready for me, that's all love.” he slowly pushed his middle finger in and let you get used to the foreign feeling before sliding out a little then back in, starting a slow rhythm.

you gasped and arched your back into the new feeling. Your fingers gripped tighter to the pillows when he slid another finger in. you hissed a little at the stretch and Ubbe smoothed your hair back while he pumped and curled his fingers against your squishy walls. He leaned down and nipped at your neck before placing soft kisses along your jaw. “feels good.” your voice came out weak and breathless, the tight uncomfortable feeling turning over into pleasure fast.

Ubbe smiled against the soft skin below your ear before planting a kiss and sucking on the spot. He pressed the palm of his hand against your neglected clit. The action ripped a loud mewl from you, your legs shaking softly at his sides as your eyes flutter shut. Ubbe felt his heart clench at your sounds and the way your body reacted to him, so needy and ready.

You felt something in your stomach tighten more and more with each deep thrust of his fingers; his lips and teeth that grazed and sucked your delicate skin sent shocks to the same spot. “Ubbe, feels weird.” you whimpered, his fingers never letting up and the added attention to your now puffy clit made your moans and whimpering increase.

“Weird, or good my love?” Ubbe nipped your neck before traveling lower to your nipples. He sucked one in and rolled the bud between his teeth, gentle and soft but enough to have your hips bucking your pussy into the palm of his hand. He knew you were close, he wanted to hear you fall apart for him, wanted to watch you cum on his thick fingers. With one last nip to your other nipple he leaned back up enough to catch your eyes fluttering open to look at him. Eyes glossed over and half lidded, lips parted slightly as you gasp and moan freely, in a daze and hardly able to even focus as the pleasure builds. Ubbe smirks softly, adoring his beautiful bride in bliss thanks to him. “Sweet girl, does it feel good?” he asks, voice low and husky.

You nod your head softly. “Good, rea-ly really good!” managed to squeak out before your pussy clamped down around his fingers and a loud needy moan escaped your lungs. Ubbe was quick to slam his lips against your own and eat every sweet moan and whimper you made while his fingers helped you through your intense orgasim.

You shivered when Ubbe pulled his fingers from your sopping heat. He gave you another kiss on your forehead and looked over your face. Cheeks all red and out of breath while you look up at him with a small, shy smile. “You did so good my love, cumming so well for me.” he praised, kissing the tip of your nose. “So pretty, my sweet girl with the sweetest noises.” he can't help his words, wanting nothing but to love you for all eternity.

His praise and the way his vivid blue eyes looked at you was making you need him even more. “We're not done yet… right?” you asked, voice quit timid but eyes hopeful.

Ubbe chuckled softly and leaned back to pull his layers off, letting his upper half be just as exposed as your own. You watched him, legs spread and hands gripping gently at the pillows by your head. “Just can't wait, huh princess?” he teased, a small smirk on his face as he untied his pants, letting them hang low enough so his cock was free and eagerly waiting before your weeping pussy, precum already leaked from the tip. The sight of you sprawled out in front of him causing his cock to twitch. “Pretty thing.” he says before crawling back over your body. His cock slid between your slick folds and teased your clit while his lips found yours in a firm and grounding kiss.

You sigh into the kiss, feeling your head become lighter the more the tip of his cock brushed your clit. You bring your arms up to wrap around his neck, his tongue exploring your mouth making you feel like you were going to float away.

“Ubbe, you're teasing me again.” you pout between breaths when he finally pulls away for air.

His browns furrow and he gives you an almost dramatically apologetic smile. “M’sorry love.” he coos while lining his cock with your tight entrance. With a few gentle thrusts of his hips he pops the fat head of his cock in. He watched your lashes flutter a little and your mouth open like you wanted to moan, wanted to give him those sweet noises but you held them in. “don't be scared to tell me if it hurts too much, okay sweet girl?” he said.

You nod. “I will.” you agreed. “Just please move now, I want to feel you Ubbe.” you beg and your hips jerk a little involuntarily.

“Okay little one, just breathe for me.” he says before starting to slowly push in and stretch your needy pussy open around his thick length. You tried to keep your breathing steady while his cock filled you up. You couldn't manage for so long. Soon whimpers and moans were falling fast from your lips. The pain was intense, it felt like you were being split in two and you felt the adrenaline slowly fading as the pain continued.

“Hu…Hurts.” you managed to squeak out, tears pricked the corners of your eyes.

Ubbe stopped, giving a low grunt at how tight your walls were clenching around him. He kissed your cheek and brought a hand down between your bodies to your clit and circled the sensitive nub. Your back arched at the added pleasure and you relaxed enough for Ubbe to take a much needed breath. “Feel better love?” he asks. He can feel your pussy getting wetter the more his finger works your clit.

“Better.” you mumble. It did feel better, still an aching pain in your core but now the pleasure was added and it made the stretch feel almost good. “Please move.” you ask, voice just above a whisper.

He nodded and rested his forehead against your own. “Focus those pretty eyes on me.” he tells you and begins to slowly push himself forward again, his thumb never slowing down while he sinks deeper. You breathe as steady as you can manage and keep your focus on his alluring eyes. Your lips part and a soft high pitched gasp leaves you when Ubbes hips finally meet yours, his cock fully engulfed by your pulsing heat. Your eyes flutter and struggle to stay open. He pulled his hand back up to rub slow soothing circles to your hip. “Did so well Princess, letting me in your tight little pussy.” he praised. “Feeling okay love?” he asks, searching your eyes.

His words make your wall flutter around him. You tried to speak but just choked in your own words, the feeling of him sitting so still and stretching you out making it difficult to even think. You settled on a pathetic little whine and looked at him with pleading eyes, wanting him to move, to make it start feeling good like his fingers had.

You arched your back a little, trying to get some kind of friction or movement going. Ubbe could feel your pussy gushing around his length. “So tight your pussy is leaking around me.” he noted, basking in your tight hole and feeling you slowly relax around him. “Can I move?” he asks with a little roll of his hips.

“Please, yes.” Your arms tighten around his neck, wanting nothing more than to only focus on him, be completely devoured by his presence.

Ubbe smiles and kisses your forehead before starting a slow pace, only pulling out halfway before gliding back in to stuff you full again. He tilted his head down to trial feathery light kisses along your jaw and slope of your neck before softly nipping the spot below your ear. While one hand held your hip the other roamed to your chest, he groped and played with each nipple. Ubbe groaned at the sounds you made for him, so needy and sweet just for him. “Pretty girl, taking me so well.” he mumbles between open mouth kisses and sharp nips. “Making such sweet little noises.” he coos.

You whimper in response. Ubbe had such an effect on your mind and body that every word, every slow drag of his cock made your mind fog over. The pleasure was building and the pain was all but forgotten now but you wanted more, wanted him to go faster. “M…more Ubbe, please.” you begged, voice barely above a whisper. “Want more.”

Ubbe’s cock twitched. “More? Feeling good princess?” He teases only a little but is more than happy to oblige your request. Ubbe rolls his hips into you a few times before pulling back and starting a new faster pace, even snapping into you a little tougher. A lustful moan hits his ears, your pure sounds of ecstasy. “That's it, let me hear how good you feel.” he groans, against your neck, losing his own train of thought the more your pussy clenched and squeezed his cock.

Wrapping his hand under your thigh Ubbe hikes your leg to his waist, your other leg follows on its own and wraps securely around him. He gripped your ass while his cock hit just the right spot to have your desperate moans turning into breathy high pitched whines.

Your eyes screwed shut and you couldn't help but try and hide into the pillow. You felt even better than before and the sounds you were making were becoming more obscene. It felt too good, too wonderful to keep in your needy whines. “Please, it feels so good, Ubbe!” you cry out, tears start to prick the corners of your eyes. You could feel your orgasim approaching. The feeling was so much more intense than last time, there was more build up now.

Ubbe cradles the side of your head with his other hand. “Look at me love. C’mon, show me those pretty eyes when you cum for me.” he tells you, fingers laced in your hair at the top of your head. Your eyes fluttered open and your heart soared when Ubbe was the only thing you could see. With his forehead pressed to your own he was all encompassing. “There you are, sweet girl.”

You felt tears slide down your burning face the moment the knot in your stomach snapped. You held onto him and your legs locked tighter around his hips, your back arched against him. Your pussy spasmed and squeezed around his cock. Your mouth hung slack while needy little whines filled the air. Eyes half lidded as you graced Ubbe with your undivided attention, even if your brain could form even a word with the pleasure you were feeling.

Ubbe was so close, the hold your tight pussy had on his cock was more than enough to make him crazed. “Tight, squeezing my cock so much.” he ground out. He helps you ride out your high until your moaning turns into whines of overstimulation and your legs softly nudge him. “So good love, fuck… did so good for me.” he praises. Burying his cock deep he releases thick ropes of cum into your swollen cunt. He watched your face as fills you up and his ok twitched at the little whimper that you made.

For a moment you two stayed like that. With his cock resting deep inside with his head resting against yours. Your heavy breathing slowed until you could properly look back up at the man above you. With a small smile Ubbe strokes your hair and kisses your forehead before leaving back. Slowly he slipped out his now soft cock. You look up at him with droopy eyes and a small smile.

Ubbe can't help but look over your body, your perfect face with rosy cheeks. He watches as his cum slowly seeps from your glistening cunt. “Can’t have that.” he murmurs and scoops it up with two fingers before pushing back inside your sensitive core. You shudder at the action and grip the pillows. “Can’t wait to make you my wife, fuck your pretty pussy every day.” Ubbe was clearly still lost in his lust for you. The gleam in wanting still shining bright in his eyes.

You had to admit that seeing him adore you so much was making your pussy flutter all over again. “Ubbe, can I…” you paused, taking a short breath. “More… I want more of you, please.” you asked sweetly, already addicted to the feeling of your soon-to-be husband's cock.

Smirking Ubbes cock twitches. “I'll give you as much as you want princess, all yours.” he tells you with his hand already pumping at his cock, ready to please you until your begging him to stop.

Thanks for reading!

#vikings #vikings imagine #vikings x reader #bjorn x reader #hvitserk x reader #Ubbe x reader #ivar x reader #ubbe imagine #ubbe ragnarsson #Ubbe x reader smut

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kaivenom · 11 months ago

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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

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mads-weasley · 7 days ago

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26. Into Darkness

Hvitserk Ragnarsson x Eira Torsteinsdottir (OFC)

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Word Count: 1.6k

Pounding. Incessant pounding.

It was the first thing Hvitserk noticed as he stirred, massaging his aching temples with a quiet groan. His skull felt like it had been split in two, the throbbing pain only worsened by the dry scratch in his throat.

Slowly, he blinked his eyes open. Bright sunlight streamed through the window, brightening the room as he became aware of the scent of firewood, faint herbs, and something distinctly her lingered in the air.

Eira.

His brows furrowed as fragmented memories of the night before trickled in.

Ivar. Drinking. The street. Her voice.

He squeezed his eyes shut and exhaled sharply through his nose. Gods, it was all so foggy. He could recall walking in the cold, and then...warmth, hands gripping his arms.

She'd caught him, held him upright despite her anger. His mouth twisted slightly. She had every reason to let him fall on his face, but she didn't.

Hvitserk's fingers brushed against the fur draped over him as more pieces fell into place. They had talked. Argued. About what, exactly, was still hazy. But flashes of her face surfaced, her brows drawn, a mix of disappointment and tiredness in her eyes.

"I want to do something," he had said. "But I can't."

He could still see the way she had straightened, could hear the quiet pain in her voice when she challenged, "Can't, or won't?"

Hvitserk groaned, rubbing a hand down his face before allowing his gaze to flicker downward.

The table beside him held a cup of water and a small plate of bread and dried meat.

For a moment, he just stared at it...She had left it for him.

He shouldn't have been surprised. She was always like that. She could be angry, exasperated, even furious with him, and still, she helped. Whether it was out of duty or something else, he wasn't sure, but he hoped she felt it too. Hvitserk thought she did, but then this happened and it left him second-guessing everything.

Did it matter?

Hvitserk reached for the cup and took slow sips, letting the water soothe the rawness of his throat. Then, he grabbed a piece of bread and broke it between his fingers before finally eating it.

Eira was gone. He didn't need to look around to know it. She had left early, surely off to make her usual rounds, tending to the sick, mending wounds, saving lives.

Doing something.

Hvitserk clenched his jaw. She was always moving, always acting, while he...what was he doing?

Nothing.

The thought twisted something deep inside his chest.

He had spent so long drifting, fighting, waiting...for what, he didn't know. For things to change? For Ivar to become someone he wasn't? For himself to wake up one day and suddenly know what the gods expected of him?

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees with his fingers laced together. Eira's words, the ones he remembered, repeated in his mind.

"Can't, or won't?"

He hadn't answered her then...had let the silence take the weight of it. But now, sitting alone in the morning light, her words ate at him.

"Does it matter?" he had asked.

"Yes."

He squeezed his eyes shut, swallowing back the frustration tightening his throat. She had said it so simply, so matter-of-fact...like it wasn't a question, but a truth he was too much of a coward to face.

If he couldn't, that meant something was stopping him.

If he wouldn't... then it was him stopping himself.

What was the difference, really? Either way, he was here, caught in the same cycle, drowning himself in ale and excuses.

"You don't understand, Eira."

"Then explain it to me."

He hadn't. Maybe he couldn't. Maybe he still didn't have the words. But the longer he sat there, the more restless he became, and eventually, his gaze flickered to the door.

"What should I do?" he murmured into the still room.

Then it hit him: the Seer.

He had only ever gone to him a handful of times, never seeking out the same certainty his father had. But now? Now, he needed answers.

Before he could second-guess himself, he shoved the fur off his shoulders and pushed himself to his feet. His head pounded at the sudden movement, but he ignored it, pressing a hand to his temple as he pushed through the door.

Hvitserk stood before the small hut, staring at the door, his mind turning over his choice again and again. He shouldn't be here.

He knew what happened when people came to the Seer. Once he stepped inside, once the words were spoken, he wouldn't be able to unhear them. Whatever was said...that was it.

He should walk away.

He moved closer and rested his hand against the door.

But he needed answers.

With a deep breath, he pushed it open and entered the dark hut. Dozens of small candles burned, lighting the room in a warm glow. The distinct scent of dirt and something almost rotten hung in the air. Hvitserk wordlessly sat on a stool.

"Son of Ragnar. Why have you sought me out?" the Seer rasped, clutching his chest as he shifted.

Hvitserk exhaled through his nose. "I need you to help me. You have seen the past, the present..." He tilted his head slightly. "And the future."

The only sounds lingering between them were the crackling of candle flames and the Seer's wheezing breaths. "What do you want to know that you do not know already?"

"I have rarely come to see you," Hvitserk said, leaning onto his elbows and clasping his fingers together. "I have tried all my life not to live by prophesy but through experience."

The Seer let out a low, dry chuckle. "Poor you. Seems to me that we learn so little from experience."

"Still you...you are wise."

The Seer turned on his side, grumbling, "No, I am an old man. And old men are not wise. They still wish that they were young. And they rage against their frailties and the fading memories."

"What am I here for?" Hvitserk asked as his hands clenched, his lip twitching.

"You will accomplish what others before you failed to accomplish. But the cost will be too high."

What did that mean?

What cost?

He inhaled sharply through his nose. "If I sailed away now, would it be different?"

"You can try," the Seer ground out.

Hvitserk's lips parted slightly before pressing into a thin line.

This wasn't helping.

His frustration started to boil over, his patience slipping like sand through his fingers. Hvitserk's words came quicker now, sharper. "What will I accomplish?"

"If you choose to sail away...perhaps nothing."

"You are not helping me," Hvitserk snarled, his lips pressing into a thin line before they began to twitch.

He couldn't stop it. Couldn't stop the frustration coursing through him.

What was he thinking? He should've known better than to expect straight answers. Had he ever gotten them before?

The Seer laughed, a broken sound that crackled in his chest. "What did you expect? Everything is becoming darker. We are all going into the dark..."

But then he paused, his blackened lips stilling. "But a hand reaches for you there...in the dark. "

Hvitserk blinked at the Seer's words.

A hand...

His brows furrowed, and for a heartbeat, he forgot his frustration. The room felt colder. Smaller.

"What?" he muttered, his voice lower and unsteady now.

"A hand reaches for you... in the dark," the Seer repeated.

Hvitserk's heart thudded hard against his ribs. His mind twisted, searching, but he found no answer. Only a flash...fingers gripping his arms, pulling him upright. A voice, sharp with frustration but never cruel. The warmth of a fire that wasn't just from the hearth.

No.

Hvitserk shook his head, his jaw locking as he forced himself to look away.

"That means nothing," Hvitserk replied, the heat rising back in his voice. He leaned forward and glared at the seer, his lip curling. "You're speaking in riddles again."

"Isn't that why you came?"

"I came for answers," he growled. "Not... this."

The Seer tilted his head. "But you already know the answer."

Hvitserk gritted his teeth and forced his hands open, pressing his palms against his thighs.

"There is a choice before you," the Seer murmured, almost uncharacteristically gentle. "There has always been."

"A choice? Between what? My life or my death?" He huffed a bitter, humorless chuckle, shaking his head. "Between following my brother or... or what? Wandering? Drinking myself into the ground?"

"A choice between the path that was given to you... and the one you are afraid to take."

Hvitserk inhaled slowly, and something cold curled in his chest. He looked away again.

"I'm not afraid."

"You are."

The Seer coughed "And the hand that reaches for you in the dark...it knows you are afraid."

Hvitserk's fingers curled against his knees, gripping the fabric of his pants. His breathing had gone quieter. He didn't like this.

"It will find you again."

"What will?" he whispered.

The Seer smiled. It was slow...unsettling.

"The fire."

Hvitserk stared at him. "What fire?"

"The fire that consumes... or the fire that forges."

A chill traced Hvitserk's spine.

"You will choose because you must," the Seer finished, his voice no more than a breath. "And the cost will be everything."

Hvitserk stilled, his lips parting slightly. His throat was dry.

He didn't like how final those words felt. How certain.

"Enough," he muttered, his voice sounding like he was trying to shake something off. "You never give straight answers."

"Would you believe them if I did?" the Seer grumbled, turning over and clutching his chest. "You have what you came for, son of Ragnar."

"I have nothing," Hvitserk mumbled.

His lips pressed into a thin line, and he glanced toward the door. He had come here seeking clarity, but he was leaving with more confusion than before.

The Seer's final words followed him as he stood slowly, moving toward the exit.

"No matter what you choose, the gods will take their due."

tag list: @purplerose291 @heyitsayjayy @severesharkkid

A/N: message or comment if you want to be added to the tag list! <3

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darylandbethfanforever9 · 4 months ago

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This was lovely, could I be added to the tag list

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.

Keep reading

#hvitserk ragnarsson #hvitserk ragnarsson x reader #hvitserk ragnarsson x you #hvitserk ragnarsson imagine #hvitserk ragnarsson imagines #hvitserk ragnarsson fanfic #hvitserk #hvitserk x you #hvitserk x reader #hvitserk imagine

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myocsfanfictions · 6 months ago

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Under the Devil’s Eye

Vikings FanFiction

MASTERLIST

Selethryth, a young lady with strange eyes and prophetic dreams, is both feared and revered in King Ecbert's court. Though he sees her as a powerful tool for his ambitions, it is Ivar, the brutal and unpredictable son of Ragnar, who is drawn to her. As their fates collide, Selethryth finds herself entangled in a dangerous game where her gifts may lead her into the arms of darkness.

If you like it, please reblog!

[All of my FanFictions Masterlist]

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

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undiscovered-horizon · 2 years ago

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"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.

#vikings #vikings tv series #vikings x reader #vikings imagine #vikings fanfiction #hvitserk ragnarsson #hvitserk #hvitserk fanfiction #hvitserk x reader #hvitserk x you #vikings hvitserk #hvitserk imagine #hvitserk lothbrok #hvitserk fanfic #vikings x you

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axelsagewrites · 1 year ago

Text

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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