#marco ilsø

[teddyniffler]

Sweet Hvitserk

[444bluehour444]

So everyone hear me out! should I try and write some fanfics or maybe headcanons for vikings? I'm not the best at writing cuz im dyslexic and my punctuation is ass, but I'm willing to give it a try. ( ˶ˆᗜˆ˵ ) what do yall think?

[hashnna]

Husband; Hvitserk.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 — Nah, eles não são tão divertidos. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

 — Marido... 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Vocês tem definitivamente muita coisa a fazer antes do casamento.

Notas finais: tô desgraçadissima da cabeça gente-

[hoghtastic]

Alex Høgh Andersen, together with Alexander Ludwig, Marco Ilsø and Jordan Patrick Smith at the “From Kattegat to Paris 2” convention last weekend, via Conv_Photographers on Instagram.

[soapsilly]

Everyday a little less Part 5 - Vikings Imagine

Pairings: Hvitserk x reader, Ubbe x reader

Summary: (Y/N) is Kattegat’s healer and Hvitserk’s girlfriend but after Hvitserk decides to side with Ivar and fight against Ubbe, she questions herself if she can still stay with him.

Requests are closed

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 -  Masterlist

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The priest turned out to be more resilient than (Y/N) would’ve thought. It was by far no painless procedure but little by little he gained strength and soon she could confidently say, “He’ll heal”.

However, Lagertha’s warriors didn’t take kindly to those news. A christian - a priest even - who fought and slaughtered alongside Ivar, did not only get to live but would possibly make a full recovery whilst their brothers died by his hands. Even many days later, the camp was still filled with the screams of the vikings, whose wounds had not healed. The infection had spread to the bone and at that point there wasn’t much more that (Y/N) could do. It was either amputation or death. 

The healer understood the resentment - she really did - but she couldn’t bare to see them kick the priest’s walking aid from under his feet when he was trying to make his way through camp. She automatically closed her eyes to avoid seeing him hit the ground but the ‘thump’ followed by the cheering of the men and women surrounding her was enough for her to paint a mental picture. Of course it pained her to see any person struggling and in pain, she was a healer after all, but she’d be lying of she said that the situation did not remind her of Ivar’s feeble attempts to walk, using the walking aids that he had made specifically for him. Many times she heard people make fun of the youngest of Ragnar Lothbrok’s sons and many times she defended him and eventhough they were on different sides of a war, her heart still ached for him.

The priest, however, did not yield. They kicked him down but he still crawled over to his aid and used it to hoist himself up again. As another one was about to kick it away yet another time, (Y/N) stopped him, “Enough!”

The vikings turned to look at her but before anybody had the chance to protest she continued, “Lagertha, your Queen, made me save this man. She made me save him and she made me do my best and heal him. And eventhough I don’t know the reason for this, I’m sure she has one...”

In other words, the priest was off limits. What no one knew though, was, that not even Lagertha herself knew why she wanted the priest alive but at the moment it didn’t matter because merely the fact that she spared his life then saved him from torment now.

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(Y/N) didn’t sit at the table with the others when they received the news that the Franks have arrived in the north. She stood leaned against one of the pillars of the tent. This way she could listen in on the conversation without running the risk of having to participate in it. But what she gathered from it filled her with anxiety. 

Whilst she had seen many places and people, she had only ever heard of the Franks. 

“Tell me about them”, (Y/N) asked Hvitserk. The both of them were laying together on the beach, watching the sky. The both of them would sometimes lie there the whole day, first watching the clouds and later at night the stars, while they would talk for hours on end. (Y/N) usually rambled on and on about her travels and all the plants and flowers she had seen there, Hvitserk enjoyed listening to her stories about foreign lands and people but didn’t understand a word about the healing properties of certain tinctures and balms. He didn’t mind at all though - in fact he enjoyed each and every word that left her mouth. But it wasn’t only the young woman that talked, every now and again Hvitserk would interrupt her to throw in some funny anecdotes and stupid jokes. (Y/N) would always act annoyed but secretly she liked when he did this. She tried her hardest to not let it show but her giggles would always give her away. She enjoyed when he talked about the fights and pranks that him and his brothers were up to. She really loved every single one of them but Hvitserk was special to her. 

“Well, I was still young. Father took Ubbe and me with him. I remember how excited we were. Growing up we heard all the stories about how Ragnar Lothbrok led the raid against the Saxons and how easy it was. We were expecting the same ease but it wasn’t so”, Hvitserk furrowed his brows.

When they left the table Ubbe walked up to (Y/N).

“What do you think?”, he asked her. She wouldn’t tell her opinion without being asked about it, but he trusted her assesment. Ubbe looked at her, unable to read her expression. He wondered if Hvitserk had been able to.

(Y/N) only shook her head. Ubbe didn’t know if she disagreed with the plan or if she was trying to signal him that her thoughts were as lost as he was. Before he could ask, she interrupted him.

“Tell me about them” 

Ubbe was quiet for a second. He was sure Hvitserk told her all about everything already. But this time the healer wasn’t interested in their culture and people but rather if they stood a chance.

“They outnumber us. Our best chance is Björn convincing Uncle Rollo to talk Ivar out of this war”

(Y/N) nodded but it was more to herself, as if to confirm what she had already thought. 

“It seems we’ll do battle again soon”, (Y/N) concluded. She didn’t believe anybody - not even the Allfather himself - could ever convince Ivar to change his ways.

“Either of us could die. It is almost certain that one of us will”, Ubbe stated, almost no emotion in his voice. (Y/N) knew that he wasn’t only talking about himself, but about Björn, Torvi, Lagertha and Halfdan -  maybe even Hvitserk and Ivar, too.

The younger woman wanted to disagree with him, wanted to tell him that everything would be okay but realized that Ubbe was right. Instead she simply hugged the taller man. Almost immediately she could feel his arms around her. And so they stood there in silence for a few moments and when they finally let go, they didn’t feel as bad anymore.

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In Kattegat Margrethe saw visions of Ubbe and visions of (Y/N) and visions of the both of them together. 

“I shouldn't have married her”, she heard Ubbe say to the woman sitting across from him in his tent. “I wish it was you who carried my child” 

(Y/N) obviously enjoyed hearing that, as she crawled over to the man and started kissing him passionately. Margrethe wasn’t surprised in the slightest though. Since Hvitserk betrayed them, (Y/N) was circling around her husband like a crow that would wait for hurt animals to finally die. She weaseled her way into their lives, into Lagertha’s inner circle... However, much to her displeasure Ubbe fell for her tricks. He wouldn’t do anything while they were still in Kattegat together but since they left for war, Margrethe did not have any influence over her husband anymore. She knew that the healer had cast a spell on him, brew some kind of love potion... and now she could see the two of them have sex in Ubbe’s tent.

“Margrethe!”, a child’s voice ripped the woman out of her thoughts. She couldn’t stand caring for those children anymore. She accepted the responsibility as long as she knew there’d be a payoff but now that Ubbe left her for (Y/N) there wasn’t any reason to act like their thrall anymore. She got her freedom and wouldn’t ever go back to how things were.

“Mommy?”, the younger of the two children asked her. Margrethe knew deep down that it wasn’t the childrens fault but she couldn’t help but to still give a cruel answer anyways.

“How stupid you are. What do you think your mother is doing now? Perhaps she is getting ready to fight. Or maybe she's dead. Maybe she has already died in battle. My advice to you is to forget about your mother. Don't think of her.     Don't imagine she's ever coming back. Except as a ghost”

*****************************************************************************************

Rollo wasn’t there. He never even came. And so they had no other choice but to fight like Ubbe predicted. Once again they all gathered around Lagertha’s big wooden table to consult about the next steps. Like usual (Y/N) listened to everything everybody said, but never made any suggestions herself. It wasn’t like her to mingle with war matters. All the talk about legacys and conservation of territories made her sick. Lagertha wanted to send a considerable number of fighters back to Kattegat to defend the city if they were to lose the war, Björn advised against it - they would need every single man and maiden out on the battlefield if they were even to stand a chance. 

But then Halfdan spoke up,”The gods have already decided the outcome of this battle”

(Y/N) wasn’t originally from Norway. She was a traveller, didn’t really have any roots. Often times, she couldn’t really relate to the faith the boys had in their gods. She now lived there so long that she took over their speech patterns and she even sometimes caught herself sending a impromptu prayer towards the gods during difficult times but when things really started to become grave she never understood their faith. But now she really wanted to believe the words Halfdan just spoke, because it was the only comfort she could find in this cruel situation.

*******************************************************************************************

“What are you thinking of?”, Ivar asked his brother. Both of them were busy with the last preparations for the war.

“I’m thinking I think many things, Ivar”, Hvitserk didn’t look up from his arm cuffs.

“I always fear that thought may fail to wing his way home. But my fear for  memory is greater. What do you fear most, dear brother? 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”, Hvitserk felt a pang of melancholy. Was it because of his brother or because of his lover? It was true that he missed (Y/N) and it was true that he still loved her, but he did what he had to do and she should have followed him. 

“But you didn't jump. The gods pushed you”, Ivar teased his brother.

“I wasn't pushed. I decided to do it”

Ivar laughed, “And I think, you still regret it”

Hvitserk became serious, “I have no regrets. Except”, he let out a little chuckle, “I don't have any children”. He was still young but the thought of having children with anybody except (Y/N) had honestly never crossed his mind.

“But then again, Ivar, you and me are in the same boat, huh?”, he continued in an attempt to lighten the mood.

But Ivar wasn’t having it. the younger brother went on to describe how he’ll have children and how those children will go on to populate the earth.

Hvitserk, who still didn’t understand how serious his brother was, let out a laugh,”Yeah, sure”

In the blink of an eye Ivar pulled out his knife holding it dangerously close to Hvitserk’s throat. Only after several warning from his older brother did he lower the weapon again.

“I'm anxious about the battle. I am sorry”, he said calmly.

“You're sorry?”

“I am sorry you jumped ship. It was a mistake. I know you have regretted it ever since. And isn't that true, huh, poor Hvitserk?”, Ivar sounded hateful.

“Maybe sometimes”

“Maybe sometimes. I thought that perhaps you jumped ship because you loved me. But of course you didn't. How could you ever love me?”

And there the feeling was again, Ivar made him his dog once again.

“I am sorry you jumped ship. It was a mistake. I know you've regretted it ever since. It was a mistake” Ivar’s words kept on echoing in Hvitserk’s head. What he didn’t yet know was, how much Ivar planned to make his words reality.

*******************************************************************************************

The battle was bloody. There were screams everywhere. Screams from attacking vikings aswell as from wounded and dying warriors. Ubbe had slain many men already and there was still no end in sight. Even though they really were outnumbered, it didn’t mean that they didn’t try until the bitter end. 

And all of a sudden brother stood before brother. For just a second Ubbe and Hvitserk just stood there - and then with a loud yell Ubbe swung his sword...

but stopped right where Hvitserk’s neck met his shoulder. Who could’ve known that Hvitserk would find himself in the same situation twice within the same day? And yet again he didn’t even flinch. Ubbe tried again but couldn’t do it. Hvitserk asked himself if Ivar would have the same reservations if they were on different sides? By the time he finished his thought two fighting vikings had seperated the eye contact he and Ubbe held and his older brother turned his back to him and left him standing.

*******************************************************************************************

He couldn’t do it. It was his little brother. He knew sometimes death was inevitable but he couldn’t just kill Hvitserk like Ivar killed Sigurd. Would Harald hesitate to kill Halfdan? Surely Björn wouldn’t hesitate to kill either of them if they stood before him on a battlefield but if Ubbe killed Hvitserk he not only couldn’t forgive himself, he would also have to bring (Y/N) the news that the one who killed her lover wasn’t just any other viking or Frank but rather his own brother. Could she forgive him? He was sure she would accept it but would she ever look at him the same? 

Ubbe was torn from his thoughts when he saw a small group of Ivar’s warriors running up the hill towards their campsite. It was like Ivar to start an ambush - a cheap and dirty trick. 

*******************************************************************************************

“Ivar! What are you doing sending warriors in Lagertha’s camp?”, Hvitserk, too, had seen the group of vikings running away from the battlefield and towards the enemy camp. He knew Harald would never oder such a thing, so as fast as his legs would carry him he made his way over to where Ivar was mounted on his chariot.

“They will not be expecting this, brother! They’re losing anyways. And once that happens where will they go?”, Ivar’s voice carried a smile.

“There are wounded people there. (Y/N) is there!”, Hvitserk tried to reason with Ivar even though it was no use. He already sent out the men. 

“So what, Hvitserk? So what? She left us! She chose Ubbe!”

Hvitserk looked at his younger brother in disbelief. Was this really about her all along? If anything she left him and him only. She was never Ivar’s to begin with but Hvitserk began to understand. She was his healer. His and only his. And in another life Ivar probably thought that she could’ve loved him in a way that his brothers never would but now he felt as if she chose Ubbe over them.

“She didn’t”, Hvitserk’s statement was final and with that, he went and ran after the group of vikings that were sent out to kill what was left of Lagertha’s camp.

“You’ll see, brother, you’ll see!”, Ivar yelled after Hvitserk but his older brother.

*******************************************************************************************

Once Hvitserk arrived in Lagertha’s camp he could hear screaming immediately. The few shield maidens that Lagertha kept there to guard the camp were still battling against Ivar’s assassins. And even a few of the wounded fought to the best of their abilities. Bodies littered the floor. A few of Ivars men but mostly Lagerthas vikings.

Hvitserk heard a scream that pulled him out of his stupor - (Y/N)! He made his way through the camp. Slaying men on his way there. Once towards the middle of camp near a tent he could see her. There wasn’t much time to think. She was fighting with a dagger that she probably only had with her for cutting bandages or twine, but he was glad he had shown her how to defend herself if she had to. Still he didn’t waste any time and reached them no second too late. As the bigger man was just about to kick the woman down, Hvitserk thrusted his sword through the assassin’s chest, watching him collapse infront of their feet.

“Hvitserk” hearing his name out of her mouth sounded like the sweetest melody he has ever heard. She was out of breath, panting in fact, but other than that she seemed to be just fine. He took her form in. She looked tired but still so familiar. He had truly never stopped loving her and now that she was just within an arm’s reach all he had to do was - 

“(Y/N)!”, Ubbe yelled her name.

As the healer heard the older Lothbrok’s voice a smile lit up her face and she ran towards him, throwing herself into his arms. When Hvitserk saw how tight she clung to Ubbe he couldn’t help but wonder if Ivar was right all along.

“Are you okay? I saw Ivar’s men heading to camp... I came as fast as I could-”

“Well, seems like you weren’t fast enough”, Hvitserk interjected.

Both Ubbe and (Y/N) looked at him. Hvitserk couldn’t quite read the look that laid in (Y/N)’s eyes. Was it uncertainty? Was it fear? He didn’t have the time to figure it out. The sounds of horns filled the air signaling that the battle has ended and that Lagertha and Björn have lost.

“Quick, we need to leave. The others will be here soon”, Ubbe already turned to leave assuming (Y/N) just follow him. 

“Wait”, Hvitserk was determined to not just stand and watch as history repeated itself again,”what do you mean leave? You lost. Do you really think she’ll be safe with you?”

Ubbe let out a bitter laugh,”Ivar just sent assassins to try and kill her. Do you really think she’ll be safe with you?”

“I’ll protect her!”, Hvitserk was starting to get angy. Who did Ubbe think he was? (Y/N) was his. Ubbe had Margrethe to worry about, “Besides Ivar wouldn’t touch her once she came back to us - I’d make sure of that”

“You’d make sure of that? Ivar is unpredictable. No one is safe around him”

“(Y/N), please”, Hvitserk was now adressing his lover directly. He knew that he could protect her and he knew that she knew that aswell. So he held his hand out for her to take, “Come on, let’s go. We don’t have much time left”

Hvitserk was right, the noise grew louder and louder with every second they just stood there. (Y/N) looked at him and for a moment they were at the beach again, laughing about his silly jokes and listening to her travel stories - but only for a moment.

“Hvitserk... I’m - I’m so sorry...”, hearing that was answer enough. Slowly he let his outstretched hand sink and watched the love of his life turn his back. Ubbe put his hand between her shoulders and guided her away - away from the stranded Hvitserk. (Y/N) turned around one last time but by then her former lover had already hurriedly taken off.

The healer felt empty but she knew she made the right decision. Not only morally but also for her safety. Even though she had once loved Hvitserk, she knew that she would be safer with Ubbe. But there was also something else. She grew so fond of the comfort of his company, she feared what it would feel like to miss him, but she would never admit that. Not to herself, not to Hvitserk and especially not to Ubbe...

RollTag List: @sarcastichater @buckysjuicyplums @littlebirdgot @blacpiink​

[ubbesbabymama]

Finally.

↳ Pairing. Hvitserk Ragnarsson.

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

↳ Word count. 3.3K.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Have you…?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ivar was smiling proudly.

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

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

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

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

“That’s correct.”

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

“You need me to satisfy—?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Entertain it now.”

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

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

You smile at him apologetically and point at the room.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“W-who?!” You try to move.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I can walk,” You whisper.

“I know.” He murmurs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I was hoping for you to follow—,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You tug at his clothes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, what have you done?

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Finally mine,” He whispers.

You smile and close your eyes.

[vikingsbifrost]

[synonymouswithanonymous]

throwback Thursday!

Snatched this from tiktok! Love it! I love the goofy antics lol. 😂😂

[hvitserkmarcosource]

Could he get any cuter??

[editfandom]

Vikings

[ptheviking]

Marco Ilsø as Halfdan "Hvítserk" Ragnarsson

Vikings season 5, episode 4.

[teddyniffler]

♡ A sad, pathetic, raddled little man. ♡ "I am a sad wreck of a man. I've made a bad job of my life."

[leslie-red]

The cutie Marco Ilso <3 i would wish to be with this family ....

[oddsnendsfanfics]

Pick Two:

I need some help picking the subjects of this year's Holiday Moodboards. So...let the voting begin!

Sihtric (1)

Finan (2)

Osferth (3) - I

Uhtred (4)

Alexander Ludwig/Bjorn Ironside (5)

Jordan Patrick Smith/Ubbe (6)

Marco Ilsø/Hvitserk (7)

Alex Høgh Andersen/Ivar (8) - I

Cowboy Ryan (9)

Harald Sigurdsson (10)

Evidently I have a type. Anyway....voting ends December 3. Let's cast those votes 😁

[elsyscreation]

Marco Ilsø avatars 400x640

[ofmanderley]

marco ilsø as hvitserk ragnarsson in vikings : season six, various episodes.