#dark!hvitty

[barnes-lothbrok]

Dance with me

Ivar x reader

Summary - As everyone is celebrating the recent raids. Ivar watches his wife.

Warnings - implied smut, swears, fluff

Word count - 1k

A/n - Honestly not sure what this is. It was meant to be a cute fluff idea and turned into this.

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Song and merriment filled the air as the fire in the heath burned. While the snow fell outside, the hall was filled with joy as  the summer raids were celebrated and praise was given to the gods for the bounty the summer had brought them. 

Kattagat was set for the winter months. This year's crops and raids had ensured that the town and surrounding villages wouldn't starve over the coming freeze. 

Ivar sat on his throne, nursing a cup of mead as he watched the celebrations around him. His people were happy, that should have made him happy too but his gut held a bitter feeling. 

While people fucked in corners and songs were sung loudly, his blue eyes were trained on his wife. 

You had the biggest smile on your face as you sang the latest song, with Hvitserk's arm over your shoulders and cheek pressed against his as you both sang completely out of tune. 

"You sound like dying goats" Ubbe teased the pair of you when the song ended. 

You flipped him off. "Fuck you! We are amazing! The best in all the land" 

You defended yours and Hvitserk awful singing before breaking into giggles when Hvitserk sang an unrecognisable tune as if to prove the point. 

"Gods, Hvitty! Ubbe maybe right" you laughed and patted his shoulder. 

"Whatever do you mean? I have the voice of a siren" Hvitserk sang again, right in your ear to which you shoved him playfully away. 

After a few more rounds of ale, people began to boo your duet. You slammed your cup down on the table and climbed on top. 

"Who dares to boo at their queen!" You roared, with a face of pure rage. 

The hall fell silent for a moment and Ivar moved forward in his chair. For the first time that evening he looked excited. 

You were his killer queen. A shield maiden with legend that could almost reveal Lagertha's. Having grown up around the Ragnarsons, it was no surprise that Ivar chose you as his queen. When you wanted to be, you could be just as deadly as he was. 

You were his rose. Beautiful and sweet but you had your thorns. 

The only sound that could be heard was the crackling of the fire and a few moans from dark corners. There was an air of suspense before you burst out laughing. 

"Wow, that was incredible!" You laughed manically, holding your stomach as you doubled over in laughter. "I'm not going to kill anyone while we are celebrating. I was merely going to suggest I dance instead" 

There was a collective sigh of relief as Ivar pouted and slumped back in his chair. Watching his wife kill would have made the festival more fun. 

"Sigurd! Dear brother-in-law of mine!" You yelled "Give us your best tune" 

Sigurd's band began to play and with a shout of "May we blessed another year! SKÁL!" from you, the party was back under way. 

You danced with Hvitserk on the table, having your own little dance battle throwing the oddest movements at each other before waltzing along it. 

He dripped you in front of Ivar, who's upside down face held a deep frown. His head rested in his hand as he looked completely unimpressed.

"Looks like someone needs a smile" Hvitserk smirked as he whispered in your ear. 

You nodded and approached your husband,  gently placing yourself in his lap. You cupped his cheeks as he scowled at you. 

"Having fun without me, wife?" He said bitterly.

"Not as much as I have with you" you replied before gently squishing his cheeks and kissing his pouted lips. 

A small smile broke his frown as he pulled you in for more. He tasted of the mead he'd been drinking. You pulled away as it became more heated and rested your head against his.

It wasn't for the fact that there were people around, you didn't care for that. Many festivals had seen the king and queen almost fucking on the throne. Ivar never let it get further than making out, your pleasure was for his eyes only. 

"Let's go to our room" Ivar whispered but you shook your head

"Dance with me" you said breathlessly as though he'd stolen the air from your lungs with the kiss. 

He suddenly pulled back and stared at you. "Are you trying to make a fool of me?" He frowned. 

Never had you asked him to dance, you knew full well there were things his legs didn't allow him to do. 

"No" you snapped back quickly "no, of course I'm not" your tone softer. 

"Then why ask of me something I can not give?" 

"Just trust me" you looked him in the eyes. You had a plan that much was clear and he would trust you with his life. You had saved it many times. 

He studied your face before nodding as you slowly moved off his lap and held out a hand to him. 

You waited as he picked up his crutch and limped down the throne steps to join you in a clear space. He swallowed as he felt eyes in him but you kept him looking at you with an encouraging smile. 

Sigurd changed the song, as if you had planned for this, while you gently held his arm above you before twirling around and circled him like prey. 

As he was beginning to feel stupid for just standing there, you span into him and whispered "see you are dancing with me" 

It was then he realised you were using his body to dance on. It may not have been the same as other couples danced but as your body swayed against his, your arms around his neck with his hands rested on your hips, he couldn't help the broad smile on his face. 

[honestsycrets]

Locked In II: Your New Beginning

↳ prison au

Author’s Notes | heed warnings

❛ pairing | hvitserk/reader

❛ word count | 3993 

❛ genre | angst & smut

❛ summary | hvitserk is excited to bring his newest toy to their hideaway. hope it lasts.

❛ warnings | violence, dub/non-con, angst, convict!hvitty, exhibitionism, mention of breeding rings, drug use, criminal behaviour, kidnapping, abo dynamics, humiliation, masochism, guilt tripping etc.

The bite must have hurt.

On the after thought of the escape, Rollo tends to wiping his wet fingers over his chest and jerks off his button-up shirt from his chest, flinging it on the floorboard of Ragnar’s car. As his father pulls off, you realize that around the main entrance there an influx of police filter in. None of them realize that such a threat has escaped, nor that medical staff lay in the medical wing deceased.

“Your plaything is a cobra.” Harald says, victim to an onslaught of your sneakers shoving against him his torso while he changes into a t-shirt. Hvitserk too changes quickly, unable to help the disgust that runs through his skin from wearing a uniform of a what might as well have been a dirty fucking cop.

“You’re telling me.” Rollo responds from the front seat.

Hvitserk laughs, “Yeah but she smells amazing and I need a fucking hole that don’t feel like STD Russian Roulette. You got my lollipops, uncle?”

Rollo tosses a bag of brilliant red lollipops over his shoulder, landing in your lap. “Let’s hurry up and change out the license plates.” He reaches around you to grab his lollipop, unraveling it from its wrapping and popping it into his mouth with a long, pleased groan.

You shift uncomfortably on top of him-- unsure which to wiggle close to. Did you wiggle closer to the insane Ragnarsson you briefly knew or this strange, older man with tattoos reflecting a lifelong world of crime on his face? Either he was an idiot-- or he just didn’t care who knew who he was.

So instead you make the mistake of scooting back over Hvitserk’s lap where he kept you. He can’t help his long, jagged moan behind his lollipop, loosening the tie in your hair and turning his nose in your silky hair.

“You already trying to scent me?” He laughs. “Fuck you smell good as fuck.” Hvitserk’s hand slides from the lollipops in your lap to the stringy bow ties of your pants, tugging them loose. Rollo hands Harald something in a warm cup. At first you think, booze. Not the case. The car is filled with a nutty smell of coffee beans.

“I’m no, I’m not!” You all but shout as his large, slender fingers slide over your dry folds. He’d have to try a hell of a lot more than that to make you bend!

“We got shit to do, Hvit.” Harald rumbles beside him.

“Not for a good ten minutes.” Hvitserk shrugs, making nothing out of the fact that he’s petting you right in front of the other men. Harald seems more concerned with nursing his headache and coffee-- but you know those blue eyes linger upon you as much as Rollo’s were. Even this strange ‘Dad’ snuck a look in the mirror above at least once.

“Let’s see that pretty pussy.” Hvitserk ignores your complaints, looking to Harald for assistance. He provides Hvitserk with a knife-- and the older man looks to you to stop wiggling with a hard raise of his forehead. Bunches of wrinkles strain his forehead. The hard side of this new knife prods the crotch of your scrubs causes you to jump, outright sobbing this time.

“Please don’t…” You sob inhale a breath, full of the thick odor of three potent Alphas. Fear soars up your veins, sending shockwaves of hard palpitations when Hvitserk affectionately sliced through the fabric. He chuckles, soft and conceited.

“Keep still.” His voice deepens, ordering you to do as he willed. The knife slits a long line from ass all the way up to the waistband, stopping a inch or two short. Perfect, he thinks. He flicks the blade to the side, smoothing over your pussy that slowly-- but oh, oh so surely, becomes wet for him. In a test, he dug his digits in between your slick.

“Please don’t…! “ You sob, losing yourself when his digits come back out connected by a long string of thick lubricant. He slips the fingers into your mouth to shut you up, flicking you in the cheek when you bite down on his fingertips. In place of his wiggle fingers, you feel the hard stickiness of something all too man made.

“Knock it off.” His father says from the front seat, glancing over his shoulder to his son. His knuckles twist the candy he was once eating with a spin, glancing up with trifling green eyes to him.

“Leave it to you to not let me play.” He pouts, spinning the lollipop once, then twice before pulling it out again. You flinch when he brings the soiled candy back up to his lips, knocking the candy around his full cheeks contently. “We almost at the stop?”

“We’re here.” He throws the car into park. Hvitserk shoves you off of his lap towards Harald-- who looks down upon you with a small, smug smile. The doors to the car open and thrash closed once again. Two of the men have left. Did you make the wrong choice? You fear asking anyone anything, flailing to sit back up on your ass. There was a good reason for your fears too…

“Do I… get to go home?” You ask. At the wheel, the man has his short and thick fingers at his lip. He glances to the rearview mirror where Hvitserk is, flicking his stick in another direction as he replaces the plates on the car with the help of Rollo.

“You’re an omega.” Harald says beside you. “You aren’t going anywhere.”

It couldn’t have been worse. You bury your hands into your face with an outright sob when Hvitserk comes back into the car, it’s with his lit cigarette and a cheesy smile, flicking the plates onto the ground.

“Hey.” He takes another long drag of the cigarette, nudging you. When you don’t respond, he pokes you with the hot end of his cigarette. The sear is immediate, raising the hairs of your arm that haven’t been singed by your new, raw wound. Ragnar starts the car for their new hide away.

“Sup, princess?”

Oh god, help you.

You should have been looking out the window.

In the stress of your seizure, you had lost it. No longer were you awake looking at the many trees whizzing by. Not until the blackness you were shaken out of your empty, black dreams.

“We’re here.” The voice, deep ease you awake. It took a few moments to snap awake-- and when you did, it was by the crack and squeak of old wood under feet. The Ragnarsson Hvitserk had you yet still in his tattooed arms. Moments later, he creeps into another room. You know that the entire house was peculiar. It’s aged walls peel with a dull yellowing wallpaper, sure. There is also thin, dusty curtains that would scarcely hide any sun.

“You smell better by the minute.” Hvitserk turns the corner, kicking open a cramped bathroom. It elongates just so to fit a bath, a toilet and sink all in the room. It could have been nauseatingly small all on its own. Hvitserk sets you down on the edge of the bath, grabbing a plastic pack from underneath the sink.

They must have owned this house.

“But, there’s some modifications I could live with.” Hvitserk shrugs, turning one green eye to you. He flicks his fingers at you to get into the bath. It’s… stained. You fear with more than just day to day grime. He stops what he’s doing to throw you an almost irritated look.

“Think I’m gonna shoot you? You have a pussy, don’t worry.” Hvitserk laughs. “You’re safe.”

That was consoling. Still you do as he pleases and strip off the grimey-- ruined scrubs, setting them just outside of the bath with your bra and panties. It was almost neat. Hvitserk swipes them up, tossing the into a large trash bag.

“Trust me, where you’re going, you won’t need them.” He says.

“Where I’m going?” You respond with thick concern. Hvitserk sits upon the toilet, flicking the handle of the bath. Scalding hot water fills the bath causing you to flinch back, folding your feet against your breasts to hide your body fro him. He tilts his head, gazing to your folds that are unprotected from his gluttonous eyes.

“Yeeaaah, shouldn’t’ve worn tight clothes to work. Why would you do that working with a bunch of alphas?”

Now this was your fault? You huff heatedly.

“C’mon, tell me. You like the attention, don’t you?”

You admit to nothing-- even if you did! It wasn’t for the attention of a bunch of pussy starved inmates. It was for the hope of what all the other women wanted. Male or female or somewhere in between, most to everyone wanted a special somebody.

“But don’t worry.” He laughs, flicking out a razor to hand to you. “We’ll take care of you. Now shave it pretty for me.”

It’s all cryptid. Hvitserk then turns to an carribean blue ice chest sitting upon the floor. He plucks it up by the grey strap, pulling out a glass vial. Your stomach clenches hard upon an empty stomach, feeling the anxiety bubbling with every sweep of your blade over your smooth skin. Hvitserk pops the cap off, plunging it into the white permeable membrane of the vile.

“What is that?” You shudder, shaking now.

“A suppressant, if you can call it that. Has a poison to destroy those stupid receptors you omegas got. Arm.” Hvitserk sweeps his eyes over you, drawing on the orange plunger to pull the strangely clear liquid out. You’ve heard of those very suppressants-- a pricey drug not cleared by the Omega Drug Association.

“No.” You wiggle through the hot, burning water to keep your distance. If he came close, you could always use the razor! A deep sigh bounces off his lips, flipping up his t-shirt to pull out the handgun that was tucked in the rim of his joggers. He turns the gun on you next, crouching down beside you.

“Don’t fuck with me.” You drop what you were doing enough to give him your arm. He smiles, winding the black tie he uses for his hair around your upper arm. He eases the needle in without falter and so you know he’s definitely experienced in such things.

“See babe.” Hvitserk laughs, pulling out the plug to the water before drawing another bath. “It’s not so bad if you just listen, right?”

Your heart was telling you that you knew far better than that.

The light streaming in from dust littered, sheer buttercup curtains should have woken you up that morning. After an arrival like that you should have been knocked out upon the thin, craggy stained mattress pad. Instead you sprawl over the stained covering with a bursting heat within your tingling inner walls of your pulsing cunt. Yet you couldn’t touch it, tied like a dog and told to sleep it off. The drugs coursing through your system were filtering out. You curse yourself at that very moment for not taking suppressants. Despite the pulse of your cunt, you know what will happen.

He should scare you.

They all should scare you.

Yet the demon that brewed in these alphas were unlike the ones in normal alpha males. They were disposed to be what they were: greedy, lusty, gluttonous. Oh, a great many things. The difference between these convicts and normal men was the ability to keep the demon inside of them at bay. In days of your heat, you were just the same; spilling needy little cries of an omega through the house until the alphas were at war among one another.

“She can’t go on like this.”

The alphas had been awake for a great few hours. His chest stung as he flexed, bloody with pink at the edge of the black wings of Hvitserk’s tattoo. Hvitserk had been in a fight with Rollo as the hours raged on. They sat arranging their flight out of Denmark into sweet, innocent little Sweden. Or at least, that was the original intention before your scent trickled down to where the other alphas were bickering that Hvitserk wasn’t tending to you carefully enough.

“She’ll be fine, uncle.” Hvitserk chides, thrusting his towel over his shoulder and lazily walking over to drop a plate in front of his father. Ragnar’s trademark braid was done away with in favour of a short crop on the top of his head.

“You have… intention to breed her?” Ragnar twiddles a bit of floppy, chewy bacon. Hvitserk listens to your soft sobs above-- slipping into the ragged, natural desires of the flesh.

“Of course I do. She’s an omega! When her heat soars, she will be screaming for release.” Hvitserk says. “Then you can take her for your ring.”

That was no sort of life and all four of them damn well knew it. The highest bidder would lay down their coin for a night with the most delicious of dolls. Each slamming their fat palms down on their red buttons, thrusting up cards to dib coin upon their fixations. The winner walked away with the toy. Then the same would happen… night after night until Ragnar thought them fit to be given to Rollo. From Rollo-- there was no coming back.

“But she’s educated.” Harald says gruffly. “Can’t we use her for better means?”

Ah Harald, always making half-baked plans. Hvitserk turns to set his plate of crunchy bacon and medium done eggs before him.

“No.” Hvitserk snears. “Don’t be stupid.”

“You’ve been around Ivar for too long.”

“I was stationed with him.”

Ragnar’s hand hovers lazily by his lips. His blue eyes flicker down to his plate, then back up again to look at the stairs just behind the meager two floor home. They had to airlift out of this hellhole as soon as your heat settled. Ragnar slips out of his chair as son and uncle bicker tirelessly together. Before either notice, up Ragnar goes up the stairs.

Each step brings him closer to the princess’s den so to speak. He can already tell that your soft mewls of desperation are stringing out longer and longer. Ragnar knocks the door open with a rippling creek that swells down the steps. It creaks apart. The yellow wallpaper on the walls matches the drab brown wood coming half way up the wall, dull. Your eyes lock onto him through the wildness of your hair. A thin rim of colour surrounds the deep black of your eyes.

Ragnar does not find this something new or unique. He’s seen that very eye in a willowy, alpha female-- his wife, before she attacked and bred him for his seed once upon a time. Ragnars’ lips twitch and so he moves closer.

“(Y/N), that is your name?”

“Fuh… fuck you.” Comes the hiss. Ragnar closes his eyes, motioning his head downwards tiredly. He’s surely heard this one before and yet he carries on, moving closer. Like an animal she sits there, rubbing her legs together and massaging herself through heated frustration.

“You’ll have the chance.” Ragnar hums, reaching forward to moved your hair from the messy manner it was displayed. He could feel your heat burning through his skin, attempting to get under his own, to implore him to breed.

“What do you… mean?” You make out between deep, harsh breaths. Your thighs press tightly together. Despite the heat between your legs, you can rub them together for some friction. But it’s not enough… it’s never enough. Ragnar’s eyes course over your freshly shaved mound up to your breasts before relenting his gaze.

Then he makes a face of indecipherable emotion. It’s short lived-- because shortly after, Hvitserk resurfaces through the door. Ragnar slides back up and within a brief few steps, disappeared back from the way he came. The scents mingling overpower any humanistic qualities you may have had previously.

“Guess omegas are kinda indiscriminate, right?” Hvitserk muses, rolling you onto your back. His touch sends a shock wave of tingles through your walls. Damn your body. Damn whatever he gave you too. Hvitserk senses the hitch in your breath and it brings a stupid smile to his lips, palming your breasts while you squirm. “As long as it can pop a knot, right?”

No, you want to say, it wasn’t write. Yet as your walls moisten and your cunt burns with a hot, eager need you know that he is right. In this state you would give it up for anything-- convict, or no convict.

“You ask stupid questions.” You huff out, moaning outright when he pinches both nipples between his fingers. Instead of the fear he was so damn sure you would exhibit, you writhe under his fingertips.

“You like it?” His tone shames. He twists again-- and pleasantly your legs kick out, betraying your mind screaming everything that Dagny committed to your knowledge. Hvitserk Ragnarsson was a murderer. A breeder. The last alpha male that crossed him had shown up to your clinic with great tears to his jaw up to his cheekbones. Fibrous strands of connective tissue attempted to string his cheek and jaw back together, a testament to the quick wound healing of an alpha.

“Of course you like it. I bet you're into all types of kinky things, aren’t you? Don’t you got someone special at home?” Hvitserk rustles within his own pants, drawing his cock out into the cold air. Your curious eyes can’t help but sneak a glance. He’s of what you think might a comfortable size. Or at least it would have been if not for those barbells along his shaft.

“Just shut up.” You answer between painful huffs; even if you did, it wasn’t like you would tell an insane alpha male that. Men like him were regularly euthanized. Who would tell him anything? Your eyes keep attended to his cock in his small strokes along the shaft. It only serves to build his huge ego-- and it’s nothing that you would admit to freely. Hvitserk slips onto the soiled mattress before you, taking your hand in his gloved one to force you to look at him.

“No? Then let me guess.” Hvitserk chuckles, fisting the root of his cock to lead the tip to your unprotected pussy. He shoves himself forward unceremoniously, forcing you to roll from your side onto your back.

“You’re one of those li’l sluts that binges xvideo porn all day and daydreams all about a certain little someone, right?” He chides, pinning your shoulders down. A long groan escapes his lips, hissing. “Fuck, no one been in this pussy for a while.”

Oh you hate him. You hate him, you hate him, you hate him!

“Those are the kinda pussy princesses I love, ya know?” He slurs, moving his hands down your back to your waist. He pins you there, enjoying the bounce of your ass against his hips with every bouncing thrust. The balls of his piercings pop into your hole, gliding in cool. They’re quickly warmed by your juices coating down his cock.

“The ones that just can’t get enough. Just like me.”

“I’m not like you!” You hiss and despite his dick just smoothing over the right bundle of nerves, you fight him tooth and nail through the long, bruising thrusts that relieve your swollen need. He’s so thick-- and when he fills you, it’s as if you could never be more full.

“Aw that’s cute pretty baby.” He leans in above you, placing his palms down flatly against your head. You glare at the black lines on his right forearm, wanting nothing to do with him. But in the end of it all, you knew he was right. “But it ain’t true. Omegas are meant to be bred like this. This is what you were always meant to do.”

His balls slap against your ass-- hard, then harder when your hips defy you. You lean into his thrusts, taking them like only an omega could. Hvitserk’s lips churn into a wide, bright smile. The more he warmed you in your heat, the more attention you craved. And Hvitserk-- was far too gladdened to give you everything you craved. As a true alpha, It wouldn’t be complete if you weren’t gasping for it first. And so you were, oozing your excitement over his dick before he even came! Hvitserk gives you a long, deep stroke of his cock to fill you properly. Your vaginal walls respond by squeezing him perfectly, milking him while he strains to hold himself out above your with a few forced pants.

“Nnn- nooo.” You sob, this wasn’t it-- this wasn’t… wasn’t you. And yet all the same, yesss.

At the end of your week long heat, your legs were wiggly like the jello and thin, light foods that Hvitserk had been feeding you so often. Never again did you want to see breads, brothy soups and crackers that made it so easy for Hvitserk to breed you and breed you all week. You felt the heat subsiding little by little through your cunt until finally, it was little more than daily annoyance of breeding and sex.

Hvitserk woke up before you that day, preparing everything that had previously been used in the house for the fireplace. Your wrists were bound when he finally came back to gather you onto two feet with a short, white flowing dress.

“Where are you taking me?” You ask-- stupidly so.

Hvitserk keeps his head level, hair smoothed out into a neat bun on the top of his head. He takes a drag of his cigarette, losing the smoke in your face yet again. You were getting used to his asinine actions over the week that you knew this Ragnarsson.

“You’re flying back with Dad.” He answers.

“Back… home?”

Hvitserk stops around the area where a jeweled pair of flip flops are. Whoever picked these pretty things-- it definitely wasn’t any of the four idiots you came to know over the week. Though Rollo did have a soft spot for prettty things, so maybe it could be him.

“You’re not going home.” Hvitserk explains. Ragnar comes to stop beside him, and so suddenly, the dread pits in your stomach. “You’re going to his breeding rings.”

Breeding rings?

“You’re not serious.” You state the question as a blank statement. Ragnar grasps your upper arms, tugging you away from the only man that you knew up to this point to stand closely against his toned chest. The young man stuffs his hands into his pocket.

He’s deadly serious.

“You can’t do this to me!” Your voice cracks at the end of the statement, beginning to panic as to what exactly a breeding ring might be. It was a running joke that Omegas were only good for breeding rings but like any things, you never gave it any credence until now. Almost like a lead weight you drop in Ragnar’s grip, refusing to go anywhere. Much less tot the sight where you would be airlifted in a separate direction with the Sigurdssons Ragnar and Rollo.

“No, no I’m not going!”

Instead of giving your fit any weight, uncle Rollo coes to the other side of you. He lifts you up onto two feet. Hvitserk lifts his hand and like magic, Rollo pauses.

“C’mon princess. Don’t make this painful. I like you, but I don’t like you like you. Besides, you’ll be nice and cared for by my brother Ubbe. Don’t that sound nice?”

It didn’t sound nice, it didn’t sound nice at all!

“It sounds awful!” You shrill out, jerking in the two brothers’ arms. At long last, Hvitserk digs his hands into his pocket. You shrill all the way to your next mode of transport until Hvitserk is nothing but a small speck. He shakes his head, rejoining Harald, still in his thoughts.

“You’ll thank me later.” He chuckles. “When you can’t get enough.”

@igetcarriedawaywithyou, @kylobien, @titty-teetee, @breathlessouls, @nejijjeoroo, @bcat1291, @readsalot73, @mslothbrok (no mix), @romanchronicles, @captstefanbrandt, @ailucascen, @michaeliskindahot, @concretewaywardangel, @naaladareia, @cbouvier23, @the-geeky-engineer, @dorned, @lisinfleur, @funmadnessandbadassvikings, @tephi101, @akamaiden, @Kirah34, @ethereallysimple, @venusloviing, @happylittlepuppydog, @beyond-the-ashes, @slutforrpg, @hipsternoionlylikeunicorns, @mixedwiththemoon, @sparklemichele, @alicedopey, @lif3snotouttogetyou, @rubyquartzshades, @noregretsandyeteveryregret, @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol, @deathbyarabbit, @unacceptabletatertots, @beyond-the-ashes (no sig), @babypink224221, @titty-teetee, @ivarandersen, @queen-see-ya-in-valhalla, @moose-squirrel-asstiel, @icarus-fell-in-spring, @piebytheocean, @strangunddurm, @atequila, @rekdreams247, @justacrush, @ivarswonderlust, @peachesnpisces, @elenawrit, @equalstrashflavoredtrash, @roxxck, @dylanowhyyien, @ilvebeenabad, @vikingsmania, @huntingbears, @My-Little-Wolfe, @seize-the-droid, @Certifiedpoison, @hotshotstar, @deans–chevy–baby, @moondustmemories, @colourmeinblue, @ilvebeenabad, @squirtleandeeveearethebest, @rubyquartzshades, @queenmissfit, @calaena-banrion, @hallowed-heathen, @Kirah34, @lulura, @looneytunes20033, @Imamom-makingadifference, @sunlightdaniel, @neeadinghugs, @Funmadnessbadassvikings, @mblaqgi, @Natmors, @triumphantreturnofpies, @dmv49, @imavulcanatheart, @attorneyl, @nina2697, @iconicvaleria, @lovelynerdytraveler, @tierneygonzalez, @zabee113, @meganjudee, @nininstinct, @sdcyumyum, @ms-allenbrown, @pancake-blonde, @ivarswickedqueen, @starkiddreamer, @Orange Darko @austenkingmylady, @thisisparadisemylove, @pinkrockstar19, @jeowjungkook, @threewintersoldiers, @end-of-night, @yaminax-kuss-a , @gruffle1, @arses21434@natalie-rdr, @tempt-ress, @Sirena-wesker, @thevikingsheaux, @poisonedjoinery, @smokealone, @chewythecatus, @glopsifum, @laughinglikenialler, @lefrenchfrye, @she-walks-in-the-moonlight, @mybarnesmyhero, @vengefulflange, @imcreepininyourheartbabe, @therealmrshale, @that-goodgirl, @supernaturalvikingwhore, @athroatfullofglass justrepostandlove

[lisinfleur]

Payback - Chapter One: From the Start

Author's notes: This is my first Modern! AU long fic. English is not my first language, so please if you see any mistakes, feel free to tell me and I'll do my best to fix it!

Music Suggestions: Playback Playlist

Technical: Hvitserk x Reader, Modern! AU, Dark! Hvitserk, Dark! Reader.

Inspired by The Absent One (Fasandræberne) movie.

Warnings: TRIGGERING CHAPTER. Mentions of rape, guns, cursing, dirty talk, drugs, alcohol. 18+ ONLY.

Words: 1.840

“Shit, Hvitserk… She’s so fucking tight!”

His green eyes were glued to the screen of that old television. Locked on his basement, in the dark, with tears rolling down his face, Hvitserk couldn’t stop looking to that bunch of badly filmed scenes.

“Easy to understand… Why you were so… Jealous… Fuck!”

The camera was badly placed. The focus was changing all the time. But he could hear perfectly the sounds of that bastard’s hips against her butt. Pushing…

“Stop…”

His fingers tightened the grip on the empty glass in his hand. The bottles and cigarette butts were all over the ground. He spent the entire night seeing that fucking video trying to recognize any clue, any detail that could tell him where that bastard was with his precious (Y/N).

“Please…Stop.”

The glass cracked under his fingers, but he ignored the sound. His ears were only hearing her voice.

She was crying.

“Please…”

Begging.

“Stop…”

Hvitserk threw the glass on the television tube, exploding the thing in a million of pieces, grunting furiously in the total darkness that place dove in without the appliance.

He was fucked. That bastard found a way to literally kick his ass.

He ruined everything in a matter of days.

“Fucking son of a bitch!” Hvitserk screamed, kicking and punching the wall.

Grunting, screaming and then sliding through the wall as a jailed animal, wounded, crying.

Locked on a dead end.              

His head repeating her crying voice in his mind as a broken tape, again, and again, driving him insane bit by bit in the silence of that house. Björn was out trying to keep the family business running. Ivar was responsible for everything about Sigurd’s care. He could hear the sound of his wheels chair running all over the floor of the house over his head from time to time. Sigurd… His brother was in a drugged coma, locked in a hospital bed, without prediction of return. Ubbe surely could help him if he wasn’t fucking rotting in a damn prison.

All thanks to Sieg. That damn fucking bastard who was now fucking his girl in front of a camera and harassing him through texts on his phone, vibrating as a damn buzzer on his pocket.

“WHAT MORE DO YOU FUCKING WANT, SIEG??” he answered the phone.

But it wasn’t Sieg’s voice who came from the speaker.

“Whenever you put your hands on him, kick his fucking ass, Handsome.”

 “Princess…”

His entire body froze when he heard her voice. But before he could say anything, Sieg’s voice came with a slapping sound on the background.

“It wasn’t what I told you to say, you bitch…” the continuous sound of the line came before the call was ended.

But this time he didn’t grunt. This time Hvitserk didn’t scream or anything.

Her words came like an injection of life into his torn soul.

She was still fighting.

And so, he would fight for her.

His feet went upstairs jumping the steps to reach the first floor.

"Is visitation day today, right?" he asked Ivar, sighing on hearing him grunting, not able to move the chair properly yet.

To see his little brother stuck on that chair was one of the worst things of all that shit.

Hvitserk came closer, helping Ivar with the front wheel of the chair that was locked on the doorway and received an angry growl for his help.

"I know how to do it by myself!" Ivar complained, not looking up to his eyes.

But Hvitserk knew that silent after his sentence was his way to say "but thank you, anyway".

"It is visitation day, isn't it?" he asked again and Ivar nodded.

"Will you go there to see him?"

"They won't lay a hand upon me, Ivar, don't worry. If he had tipped something they would have already locked me up. He has nothing against me. And if I get some trouble I'm sure you'll save my ass." he patted his little brother's shoulder and Ivar raised one of his middle fingers to Hvitserk receiving nothing but a curve in his lips.

Things were hard for them all...

"Don't talk about the hair," Ivar said, causing Hvitserk to look back at him.

"What?"

"The hair." And then Ivar made a motioning with his fingers over his head and Hvitserk grunted, angrily.

--

"This is a fucking prison, Hvitserk. Not a damn playground."

They shaved him.

His hair, his beard. Everything.

Hvitserk barely recognized his brother when he came to talk to him, without that braid he used to cultivate just as father's and Bjorn's. And the beard he used to love so much.

It would take years to grow again.

"Stop looking at me with these stuffed cheeks, brother. It will grow again. It's just hair, Hvitserk." Ubbe tried to make him feel better but it only took him a grunt a little more annoyed.

"This is all that bastard's fault. Ivar, Sigurd, you here... All Sieg's fault"

"What did he did to Sigurd?"

Sometimes Hvitserk forgot that they couldn't go see him too often and it was keeping Ubbe out of the news.

"He paid someone to drug Sigurd's bottle on a hotel he went with Margrethe. Sigurd is at the hospital. Margrethe is dead." Hvitserk said without rounding, hearing Ubbe's annoyed growl. "And now he has (Y/N)..." he completed, causing Ubbe to look at him impressed.

"What the fuck is going on, Hvitserk? Fuck, man! You're letting this guy fuck your damn life and everyone around you! What the hell!"

"It is not my fucking fault ok? I wasn't waiting for that! The bastard seems to have planned this shit for years!"

"So go out of his plans, Hvitserk," Ubbe says, causing Hvitserk to shut for a second "C'mon... I know you can think about something. Last time I remember seeing that bastard, we were giving him a fucking lesson." he chuckled.

And Hvitserk couldn't handle but chuckle as well.

"My only regret, after all, was not to have asked her to hit him harder," Ubbe said, causing Hvitserk's mind to float in memories.

"Yeah... She was fucking amazing that day..."

He could remember as if it was yesterday. And if he closed his eyes he still could feel the smell of the mint on the cigarettes she used to like when they met each other.

She was smoking in the schoolyard, raising her middle finger to the monitor who wrote an advertence for her being smoking where she was. He couldn't miss a girl who set the advertence paper on fire with her cigarette's ember on the monitor's hand!

"You gonna get a kick in your ass, Hvitserk. Mistress Hot'n Cold will break your heart" one of his friends advised.

Mistress Hot'n Cold. A nickname the boys gave to her because of the hot body with a cold stone heart. Well, the cold stone heart needed a fire to re-lighten her cigarette and guess who was holding a lighter?

She smiled at him behind the cigarette, pulling the smoke to her mouth once again.

"Thanks, handsome."

"You're welcome, princess."

From that day on, they became closer and closer. The conversation between them could last for hours. She knew everything about his family and he remembers he laughed when she said she would only be pissed off if he didn't get the best stuff for their meetings. She was fucking crazy. As crazy as he was. And it made him fall for her as someone who dove into an abyss.

They sneaked away from the school together, they smoke together, got drunk together... He taught her how to drink properly, she taught him how to make that damn french inhale he was never able to do before. He was her first. She was his only.

But he was always there...

"Shouldn't you be on your chemistry class, (Y/N)? It started ten minutes ago... "

"I rather the biology ones, you know, human reproduction."

She always had a good answer for him. But Sieg was persistent.

"Just don't let this delinquent end up screwing your academic history."

Always playing the good guy, as if Hvitserk didn't know he was always buying stuff from his father's points and that monitor position was totally bought from his father. He was the son of the Principal and Hvitserk was pretty sure that bastard asked his father to be on charge of (Y/N) class.

"Don't worry, Siegfried. I won't be the one with the mind blown tonight"

Sieg used to hate the way she pulled Hvitserk by his necktie or hadn't a single problem in kissing him in front of whoever wants to see.

"Name is just Sieg." he insisted and so she looked at him with a fake sorry expression just to twist it into a smile on the following second.

"Who fucking cares? Don't you have someone else to stalk, Siegfried? Or do you want to have some classes here?" Hvitserk remembers she used to call him wrong just to tease, mounting his lap just to make Sieg uncomfortable.

Even then.

Even with all her efforts to push him away, Sieg was always trying his chance. And it pissed Hvitserk off almost his entire high school.

Advertences, suspensions, Sieg started to try to find any reasons to take Hvitserk out of the school justifying her actions with his presence, thinking if Hvitserk was away maybe she would be sweeter to him.

Hvitserk's last year on the school was a real nightmare trying to find all the possible ways to avoid Sieg and his damn notebook: he managed to become Hvitserk's monitor and for the gods, the guy was a damn stalker.

All he got with it was (Y/N) becoming angrier and harsher with him. And Hvitserk and her managing to flee from school almost every day.

They used to go to the lake together to talk, be together, sometimes make love.

But that day, Hvitserk managed to get his new gun to school to show her...

"Father gave me."

He remembers Ragnar gave that stuff for him when he became old enough to participate his father's business.

"It's beautiful..." she said.

"Wanna learn?"

He spent half of that evening trying to teach her how to shoot on the cans of beer they took there to drink. She never managed to hit none of them.

"I'm shitty with this thing! I would never be able to kill someone"

"Good I'm here to kill for you if necessary."

Hvitserk could still feel the warmth of her body against his that day. Or the way she kissed him so passionately.

"Would you kill for me, Hvitserk?"

"Without hesitation..."

Her kisses had become intense and they were about to start invading each other's clothes when he heard Sieg's voice and his eyes got the monitor looking at them both.

"Oh, c'mon! Give me a break!"

Hvitserk still remembers he swallowed up his tongue when a police officer came from behind Sieg.

"I told you... He has a gun".

He could still remember how cold the handcuffs were.

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Tagged ones:

@akamaiden @attorneyl @bang-kim-bap @captstefanbrandt @honestsycrets @grungyblonde @ivarswickedqueen @ivarsrideordie @lol-haha-joke @lupy22 @queen-see-ya-in-valhalla  @starrmoondaisy

[whenimaunicorn]

dark!Hvitserk

[literaryuppsala]

You all over me.

Title: You all over me by Taylor Swift.

Pairing: Hvitserk x Fem!Reader

Summary: Hvitserk is your first love. 

Words: 3517.

Warnings: SMUT! P in V, unprotected because he’s a viking, If you’re not, you still need It, there’s loss of virginity, oral (fem receiving), that’s kinda dark meaning reader and hvitty met she was underage, but nothing happened before she got older, either way i’d like to clarify that. I guess that’s all, either way proceed with caution. 

A/N: I deleted my other account (stylinsonliving) and all my works will be reposted here, any doubt send me an ask. Here for you anon, the answer for your ask, If you’re out there, there she is, and answering the other one, I’ll make part 2 for her, just wait a little. My asks are always open: you can request a filthy smut, a relationship advice and my political opinion, I’ll answer to all of it. Feedback is always welcome and my mistakes are always mine.  

Filth below the cut, enjoy ♥

It was a summer night, warm and humid. But just as the other days in Wessex, the cold wind was unrelentless. It rippled through your clothes, getting the skirt of your dress slightly damp, untying the intricate braids that keep your hair in place, sending goosebumps through your skin. You stood outside your room, on your balcony, looking up at the sky because you never saw it so clear, just like a dark blue sheet covered in tiny, sparkly dots. The stars shined as brightly as the moon, you couldn’t stop looking at it, you were in awe. 

“I’m afraid it's too late for you to be out here, your highness.” You heard Hvitserk’s voice from behind you and smiled to yourself. 

“It’s a wonderful, magnificent night, Lord Hvitserk…” You answered softly. “Too beautiful to be admired through stone railings… Don’t you think so?” 

“You shouldn’t be out here in plain sight.” He insisted, standing next to you. “You know we are under attack.” 

You sighed heavily, avoiding his gaze that you felt on yourself and looking straightforward, you answered under your breath. 

“I know, Lord Hvitserk… I know…” 

“Then why are you out here, putting yourself in danger?” He asked slightly angry, his stare burning holes in your skin but you still didn’t look back. 

Hvitserk made you nervous, he intimidated you. He was older, bigger and extremely beautiful, you were lost since day one. The first time you laid your eyes on him was the first time you ever saw a viking, you heard stories, but to actually see one of them, Hvitserk was the first. 

You were a young girl back then and you had to gather all your courage just to greet him. When he smiled back, your cheeks got flushed, a reaction that became a routine every time he was around. 

As you grew up, you watched the transformation that turned the viking into a christian man. A true friendship sparkled between himself and your father, king Alfred and, as the years went by, Hvitserk became Alfred’s most trusted man, to whom he would confide his darkest thoughts and deepest feelings, so much that the king just gave him a title and the permission to marry any saxon woman he wanted, but he didn’t. 

“I just wanted to take some air. Was suffocating inside my chambers the whole day.” You answered and Hvitserk did not miss the whiny tone. 

“You were there for protection. You don’t know what these men are capable of.” He insisted. 

“You do, don’t you, my lord?” You teased, a confident smile on your face when you finally looked at him. 

“Yes. I do.” He answered bitterly and your victorious grin immediately died on your lips. 

“Forgive me… Didn’t want to disrespect you.” You apologized shyly, looking away again.

“My past does not embarrass me, princess.” He smiled even though you couldn’t see It, you could hear it in his tone. “I’m a proud viking.”

“I thought you were a christian man now…” You mumbled under your breath.

Hvitserk approached carefully, cold lips touching softly over your ear, his beard scratching on your jaw. 

“Let’s make it our secret then.”  

You snapped looking at him, faces closer than you thought, your nose brushed against his, the warmth of his breathing touching your face, cheeks flushed at the sudden proximity. But just as fast as he came close, he withdrew, taking his warmth with him as he stood beside you. 

He smirked, looking forward and leaving you a little dizzy, your eyes searched his face for something else, any sign of interest but Hvitserk was a respectful man, he never tried anything with you, wouldn’t start all of a sudden. He kept you company, both of you in silence until you excused yourself and went back to your room.

Later, on that same night you were sitting at your dressing table, untying what was left of your braids, combing through the strands and undoing the knots created by the wind. Hvitserk’s face was all you could think about, but there wasn’t anything new about this, he was the only man to ever mess with your morals just by existing. 

You were promised since your very first breath, destined to marry the king of Mercia, It didn’t matter who he was. But It seemed that your heart had other plans for you. You had strong feelings for Hvitserk, you didn’t quite know when it happened, but as soon as you started to blossom as a young woman, the viking turned christian started to show up in your most secret dreams. 

You looked up, distracted by the beautiful night outside your window when a timid knock on your door dragged you out of your thoughts abruptly. You got up, covering your nightgown with your silk robe before walking towards the door to open It. 

“Princess.” He whispered, cheeks slightly flushed. 

“What are you doing here?” You gasped in shock. “It’s late.” 

“I know.” He answered nervously. “I couldn’t sleep.” 

The silence between you two was heavy, surrounding you both with the weight of everything you didn’t say. Swallowing hard, you moved backwards making room for him to enter and so he did, closing the wooden door behind him. 

You looked at him with hooded eyes, it took you some time to do something, but when it hit you, you untied your robe and let the garment fall to the ground. Hvitserk walked towards you, his hand finally touched your cheek, so softly you asked yourself If it was really there. 

“Tell me to go.” He begged, fingers tracing down your cheek. His thumb met the soft flesh of your lower lip and his eyes followed. “Tell me to go, princess.” 

“But… I don’t want you to.” You mumbled under your breath. 

Was like a magnet pulling you towards him, you leaned into his touch and closed your eyes, you wanted to feel more, you needed to feel more. In an instant he was on you like a bear, as if he listened to your thoughts, kissing you feverishly. His lips moved against yours as he roughly opened ‘em up and slipped his tongue into your mouth. You quickly pulled away with widened eyes, hands on his chest keeping him away from you as you looked at him with further embarrassment. 

“I-I don’t… I don’t know what to do.” You confessed, blinking nervously at him. 

You had never been kissed. Your father told you since you were a little girl you should save yourself for your husband, your kisses too, and so you did, you obeyed. Hvitserk looked at you with worry on his features, you felt as his hesitation started to win, so you kept going, held his hand and pulled him closer again until your lips were almost touching.

“Teach me.” You begged breathlessly.

Hvitserk nodded and kissed you again. His hands found your hips and It felt like they belonged there, so did your arms around his neck, fingers on his hair. He was more patient this time, kissing your lips slowly, sucking on your lower lip, nipping at the flesh softly until you parted your lips inviting him in. His tongue massaged yours roughly, was messy and wet, but sent shivers straight to your core, a warmth you weren’t used to. 

He took you to bed, parted the kiss making you sit at the edge and kneeled in front of you, between your legs. His hands were calloused on your skin, the roughness from his life years caused a nice sensation on you. You gulped when he started to raise your gown and you raised your hips a bit just so he could roll up the garment on your waist until you were exposed under his hungry gaze. You shivered, his eyes met your naked core and he licked his lips. 

“Lay down, little one.” He mumbled and you nodded, obeyed without question. 

He held your ankles and raised your legs until your feet touched the mattress. You felt almost too exposed, but before you had any complaints to vent, you felt a wet pressure between your legs. You raised your head and looked down at him with a frown. 

“What-What are you d-doing?” You asked, but he didn’t answer, he just kept going, licking through your folds slowly. You felt the tingles, a strange feeling, different from everything you could ever make yourself feel. 

You weren’t a complete stranger to pleasure, you were a curious being by nature, you used your fingers on yourself and made yourself cum a few times, but your own fingers could never do what Hvitserk was doing with his tongue. 

He licked a fat strip through your core, the tip of his tongue teased your clit before he started sucking on the little nub, you hissed at the little shock he caused on your lower belly. 

“Oh sweet Lord.” You moaned, closing your eyes, gripping at the sheets under your body. 

He didn’t stop, his mouth was unrelenting, merciless. He circled your clit once again, tight and slow circles around your little bud making It grow swollen. He sucked on it steadily, his teeth brushed against the nub sending waves of pleasure through your body and causing more slick to pool in your core. You just knew his beard was glistening. 

You felt when Hvitserk’s forefinger traced the outline of your opening, went up and down your folds coating the tip with your wetness and his saliva, pressing It inside you a few moments later. Your vision got blurry, the burning sensation almost unbearable as he started to pump the tip of his finger in and out of you slowly, mouth still working on your clit. 

Unconsciously, one of your hands met the crown of his head, fingers plunged deep into his soft hair while your hips started to move on their own accord, grinding against his face you didn’t notice when his first knuckle disappeared inside you. Hvitserk groaned against your folds, greedily sucking on you until your orgasm started to form on your lower belly.

The stretch inside you grew bigger, the burning sensation was back and then you knew you had two of his fingers deep inside your pussy, he curled them up finding the sweet spot you could never reach with your own fingers and you mewled loudly. You tried to hold your moans, but Hvitserk’s name came out of your mouth like a song you couldn’t stop singing. 

The build up sensation finally snapped when he gave you a particular good squeeze, dragging from your lips the sweetest sounds. Your body arched against the bed and you trembled as you closed your legs on his face. 

He got up, face all shiny and glossy. He cleaned his mouth with the back of his hand before standing in front of you. You raised your upper body on your elbows and looked at him with wide eyes. 

“Will you…” You didn’t finish the sentence, hoping to God he would understand what you meant. 

“What?” He smirked. 

“Please… Don’t make me say it.” Your cheeks flushed. 

“I would like to hear It.” He insisted, still standing in front of you, eyes on your naked, glistening core.

“Will you… Have me…” You mumbled, suddenly feeling self conscious of your body, sitting up and pushing your gown down your thighs. 

Hvitserk held your wrists making you stop, the spark was there again, the little shock between his hand and your skin. You looked up, hooded eyes focused on his face when he pulled you up so you were standing in front of him. He grabbed your other hand and pulled them towards his lips and kissed your knuckles, soft, wet lips making you feel funny. 

After a few seconds he took your hands to his clothes, fingers on the ribbon that kept his tunic in place. You were shaking, struggling to untie the ribbon but he helped you. Once you were done, he pulled the tunic over his head, letting it fall to the ground around his feet. 

“What’s this?” You asked in awe, tracing the intricate lines painted on his chest skin. 

“Memories of an old life.” He whispered, his hands quickly met your face and pulled you in for another kiss. Slower this time, gentler. 

His lips molded over yours and moved from side to side while he waited for you to follow, and so you did. He guided you patiently until you felt safer. Silently he asked for permission to invade your mouth with his tongue and so you let him. He growled against your mouth and approached more, his chest touching yours while his hands found their home on your hips. 

You felt when he started to push you down the bed, but you didn’t want to stop kissing him so you pulled him with you, arms crossed on his neck, his body falling over yours. His hand met the small of your back and he manhandled you until you were up on the bed. You gasped at the sudden movement and he laughed. 

“Sorry.” He apologized.

“It’s alright.” You mumbled. 

Hvitserk’s hands found the hem of your gown and you raised your hips so he could pass the garment up your waist. You swallowed hard before closing your eyes and raising your upper body and then your arms so he could pull the nightgown out of your body, leaving you completely bare under his gaze. 

“Gods you’re beautiful…” He whispered. “My very own Freyja.” 

He kissed you again, but didn’t stay long, taking his lips down your jaw, kissing your neck. He sucked purple marks from your skin while his hand landed between your thighs. You were slick all over, throbbing when his fingers dived through your folds. 

“You’re so wet…” He mumbled against your skin. “Tell me it’s all for me.” 

“It’s-It’s all for you!” You moaned. 

Two of his fingers were back inside you when his mouth found your right nipple. He sucked on the pebbled nub like a newborn baby, giving It kitten licks, brushing his teeth over the sensitive flesh. While scissoring his fingers inside you, Hvitserk started to suck on the other nipple, pulling It between his wet lips turning you into a moaning mess. 

“Hvitserk…” His name spilled out of your lips like honey, he grunted at the sound and looked up to you, blue eyes sparkling with anticipation.

He pulled his fingers out of you carefully and you whined at the sudden emptiness. He shushed you while he shimmed out of his trousers, holding your left thigh up his waist. You closed your eyes and waited for him to do something, but he stayed there, tip teasing your entrance, arm on one side of your head. 

“Open your eyes.” He whispered and you obeyed again, looking at him with glossy eyes. “Hug me.” Your arms moved before you even registered his words, hugging him tightly. 

Hvitserk kissed your forehead, then your eyes and the tip of your nose. You smiled shyly and nodded, because you knew he was waiting for permission. He left your thigh for a brief moment, held the base of his cock firmly before lining it up with your opening. You whimpered when he rubbed his length through your folds, coating himself with your slick. 

You closed your eyes again, raised your head so your lips met with his sweaty forehead and gasped when his throbbing tip finally entered you. Hvitserk sighed heavily, his arm started shaking uncontrollably after so much time holding all his weight and he put the other one on the other side of your head. 

He pushed himself in a little more and you whined, the stretch and the burn weren’t intolerable, you almost felt good. You spreaded kisses on his forehead while he kept focused, desperately trying not to hurt you. You felt a warm liquid pooling from your opening and Hvitserk stopped moving, looking down between your bodies just to see his cock coated in your juices, painted on a light shade of pink. You sighed heavily before speaking again. 

“Please, move.” You begged breathlessly. 

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He looked at you again. 

“You can’t hurt me.” You answered, one of your hands was on his shoulder while with the other you held his face, lips barely touching while you looked into his eyes. 

You nodded again and he pulled back a little more just to push inside you again until he was finally bottomed out. You whined longer, eyes rolled back into your head while he was stretching you out to your limit. Tears gathered on the corners of your eyes, threatening to fall, but he kissed them dry.

“You’re not a virgin anymore.” He whispered against your temple and you smiled shyly. “How do you feel?” 

“Full.” You answered and he looked back at you, both of you smiling silly at each other. 

He stayed still inside you until your walls started to flutter and quiver around him, dragging soft moans from his lips. He still didn’t move, not until you nodded one more time and when you did it, so did he. He slowly pulled out, gently pushing back in, savoring every new inch of your pussy. 

“Kiss me.” He ordered breathlessly. 

You obeyed again, more used to the tongue kiss when he shoved your mouth with it and began a new rhythm, faster. You hissed and he stopped again, worried about your noises, but you quickly distracted him with another kiss. Wet and messy, making squelching noises just like the ones his hips dragged from yours. 

The first sign of pleasure slipped through your lips as a soft moan, so low he doubted you ever moaned at all. He moved again pressing back inside you making you moan one more time. 

“Sing to me, little bird.” He asked, increasing his pace. 

Heavy panting, soft moans and tiny whimpers started to slip through your mouth like a waterfall, uncontrollably. Your body started to jolt with Hvitserk’s rhythm and you instinctively opened your legs more, making more room for him to move. His chest rubbed against yours roughly, your breasts were pressed under him, his chest hair teasing your nipples. 

“You’re gripping me like a fist…” He moaned, hips starting to slap against yours. “Feels perfect… So perfect…” 

“You meant it?” You whined, the words slipping before you gave it a second thought. 

“My perfect Freyja.” He told you with a smile. 

You whimpered, moving your hips against his thrusts for the first time and Hvitserk grunted, face scrunching up in ecstasy. Your arms wrapped around his neck and you cried out, involuntarily pulling him in. 

He didn’t stop looking at you, focused on your expressions, staring at you like you were his most prized possession. Like you were his. He moaned softly, parted lips quivering while he moved faster, thrusting deep inside you like he wanted to merge both of your bodies. 

“Oh my God.” You breathed, feeling the same knot start to tight on your lower abdomen. 

“Cum for me little one, make a mess for me.” Hvitserk begged and you felt like you could combust at any minute. 

You hugged him tightly, pulled him in pressing his body in your arms, eyes closed and face hidden on his shoulders. He changed the angle of his hips finding your sweet spot again and took you just a few more thrusts for the coil to snap completely, dragging a long moan from you. Hvitserk followed right after, his thrusts got sloppy and a few moments later he came inside you, throbbed so fiercely you felt his seed coating your insides. His tired huff made you shiver completely and he let his body fall on top of yours. 

It took him a few more minutes to roll off of your body, he slipped out of you and you whined at the sudden emptiness. It didn’t last long though, he pulled you in making you lay down on his chest. His heart was beating so fast you could feel it against your face. You stayed like this for a moment until the silence started to bother you. 

“Who’s Freyja?” You asked without looking at him. 

“It’s a goddess from my people. The most beautiful of them all.” He answered softly. 

“You called me a goddess…” You whispered shyly, feeling your cheeks flush.

“I did.” He smiled, touching your chin gently and raising your head, making you look at him. “And I’d worship you every day of my life If I could.” 

“That’s heresy, Athelstan.” You grinned, using the christian name chosen for him.

“I would damn my christian soul, little one, for you.” He kisses your forehead, then your lips. “Everyday, without giving It a second thought.” 

“I guess we already condemned both of us.” You closed your eyes, rubbing your face on his chest, inhaling his scent, trying to carve it in your memory. 

He hugged you tightly, spreading kisses on the crown of your head. 

“I am sorry.” He sighed. 

“Don’t be. I was already yours even before that.” 

***

[heathendaughter]

Tangled (modern!ivar x reader)

A.N.: Hey, y’all. I’ve legit never written anything before(!!), so here goes nothing. Reader has no defining physical characteristics, she’s whoever you envision her to be. Feel free to offer up constructive criticism, just don’t be a dick. I love love love you all for all the content you’ve put out and I’m trying to contribute here. 

*flashbacks are in italics

Summary: Ivar and Hvitserk’s best friend Y/N have been together for years without fully committing to one another. After a disastrous party and drunken mistakes, relationships are reevaluated and new contenders step up to the plate. Possible eventual Hvitserk x Reader or Uhtred x Reader. I have ideas, but let me know what you like! I can maybe be swayed. :)

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: cheating, language (this may change as I continue)

It was the doorbell that woke you up, the sound reverberating through your skull like a gong. You peek an eye open and immediately regret it. More accurately, you regret the endless shots from the night before. Hearing voices nearby, you open your eyes once again, adjusting to the daylight.

Oh, fuck.

Oh, fucking fuck.

Why did it have to be Hvitserk’s bed? Of every possible bed you could wake up in after a night of heavy drinking, this one was perhaps the worst.

You lean over the center of the car, your jacket catching on the stick shift. Uhtred sighs.

“Come on, Y/N, you’re killing me here. I’ve wanted you for a long time, but not like this. Go sleep it off and, if you feel the same way in the morning, text me.”

You try to angle yourself onto his lap, but he politely pushes you away. “Stay,” he commands, once you’re back in the passenger seat. You pout as he takes your phone and dials the most recent number.

“Hey, man. We’re outside. She’s gonna need your help, I think.”

“You’re no fun,” you whine. You know you’re drunk, floating haplessly in the sweet spot where you know you’re making dangerous decisions, but you couldn’t care less.

Uhtred chuckles. “Yeah, yeah. I just don’t think one drunken night is worth the wrath your boyfriend will rain down on us when he finds out.”

“EX-boyfriend,” you slur. “Motherfucker is HISTORY. Goodbye, asshole.” Your designated driver laughs again as you trill each insult.

“Again, text me tomorrow if you feel the same.”

You don’t get a chance to respond before Hvitserk knocks on the passenger side window. Despite it being dark out, you can still tell he’s pretending to be annoyed.

“HVITTY!” you screech, loud enough to wake the neighbors.

“Would you shush, woman?” He has the door open and is half-dragging, half-lifting you out of the seat while you grumble profanities. Hvitserk ignores you, instead addressing the other man, “Thanks for getting her back safe.”

Uhtred just nods.

“And untouched,” he adds before shutting the door.

What in the hell is wrong with you? You rack your brain, trying to remember everything that happened the night before. It comes in flashes – the party, the tears, throwing yourself at Uhtred, getting dropped off at Hvitserk’s. As much as you wish he’d put you to bed without incident, the delicious ache between your legs tells a different story.

As soon as Hvitserk forces you to walk toward his apartment, the cold air hits you and you remember how you got to this point. Crisp night air has always had an instantly sobering effect on you. He’s opened the door and stepped inside before he realizes you’re standing on the stoop, crying silently. He says nothing, but pulls you in for a hug so tight that you’re sure you’re ruining his white henley with the ungodly amount of mascara you applied before the party.

“What happened this time?” he murmurs into your hair.

“The last fucking straw, that’s what,” you sniffle indignantly. “Caught him fucking some stupid bitch in a bedroom at the party. I guess that’s what I get for wanting to surprise him.”

You stand up on shaky legs, wrapping Hvitserk’s sheets around you while you look for your clothes from last night. Once you find your jeans, shirt, and jacket, you decide to give up on finding your panties. With Hvitty’s track record, he’ll find them and not even know who they belong to.

You tiptoe toward his bedroom door, leaning your ear against it. If you’re lucky, whoever rang the bell has him distracted and you can slip out unnoticed, walk down the block, and call an uber.

“If only there was a Marauder’s Map for when you drunkenly hook up with your best friend and need to make a quick getaway,” you mutter to yourself. You fumble for the doorknob, realizing you might still be drunk. A glance at your phone tells you it’s only 7:30 in the morning. Yep, definitely still drunk. You didn’t even get to Hvitserk’s place until 2:00am and your night clearly did not end there.

A raised voice in the living room catches your attention, so you quietly crack the door to listen.

“Have you heard from Y/N at all?” the voice asks. “We got in a fight last night, she drove off with that fucking douchebag from Bebbanburg, and then she never came home.”

Oh, shit. This is not good.

The party is already getting out of control by the time you arrive. You pause in the front yard, wondering if it was a mistake to have come at all. Your boyfriend-that-you-don’t-call-a-boyfriend had asked you to go earlier in the night and you declined, as usual. He just smiled sadly, kissing you on the forehead and telling you he’d be home late.

Sitting alone on the couch, you started to feel guilty. You always skipped the parties that he wanted to go to. Suddenly emboldened, you launched yourself up and headed to the bathroom to get ready.

Standing outside of the house, with music blaring and voices yelling, you can’t help but feel nervous. Pushing your anxiety aside, you open the door.

“Y/N! Holy shit! You made it!”

You whip your head toward the voice, immediately laughing as Halfdan stumbles over to you, a plastic cup in each hand. “Barely,” you respond, grinning at him.

“Here, drink this fast. Don’t ask what’s in it. Plug your nose if you have to – but I promise you’ll feel better about coming out tonight.”

You eye him warily. “You realize that’s super rapey, right? ‘Don’t ask what’s in it,’” you scoff. “Gods, Halfdan, you’re lucky I know you.”

He shoves the cup at you. You grab it hesitantly, but decide to just toss it back once he clinks his cup against yours. It hits immediately, warming your insides and loosening your muscles.

“Yiiiikes, thanks for that,” you shout over the music. You’re starting to feel giddy and you want your man to see that you’ve made an effort for him tonight. “I’m going to find myself a dance partner.”

Halfdan bows dramatically, flourishing his hands at the end before turning back to the women he had been huddled up with when you walked in. You head toward the kitchen, hoping to find who you’re looking for and, if not him, at least the alcohol.

You immediately recognize Bjorn’s massive frame lighting shots on fire and laughing like a mad man. What in the hell have you gotten yourself into?

“Heyyyy, Y/N! Take a flaming shot with me!” he yells across the kitchen. Instead of answering, you just give him the middle finger. “Ouch,” he gasps, clutching his hands to his heart. “At least I’m not shilling out absinthe tonight like Halfdan.”

Absinthe? Oh, hell. You decide that the night has already taken a turn and you might as well enjoy it. “Fine,” you spit, “give me the damn shot.”

A devious smile crosses Bjorn’s face as he makes room for you at the kitchen island where the shots are lined up. “Skol,” you say in unison before you toss them back. A grimace inadvertently crosses your face at the taste, but you shrug it off. “One more for the road,” you yell, before grabbing another and running off.

“Atta girl!” you hear him shout behind you.

You look back at him just in time to miss the body in front of you, slamming into Uhtred at the bottom of the stairs. “Woah, slow down, Y/N,” he laughs, steadying you.

“Hey!” you shout. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“I think it’s the other way around,” he replies. “You never come to these things.”

“Yeah, well, I came to see about a boy,” you assert with confidence. “And drink and dance and maybe even fight.”

“Ah, so you are Viking after all,” he muses. “I was beginning to think it was a cover.”

You scoff animatedly, swaying as you point your finger in his face. “A cover for what, you dick?”

“I don’t know,” he says, his smile reaching his eyes. “A mysterious past. A life of crime, perhaps. Or, say, your boyfriend’s mom would freak out if she found out her precious baby was dating an outsider.”

“Well, you can take everything you just said and shove it up your ass, because he’s not my boyfriend and I am Viking. You’ll see just how much so if you keep pushing me,” you joke.

“I look forward to it,” he says, his eyes boring into yours over the edge of his cup.

“Speaking of my not-boyfriend, have you seen him?” you deflect.

“I think I saw him go upstairs.” He nods his head toward the staircase behind you both.

“Thanks, Uhtred,” you say. “See you around.”

He lifts his cup in acknowledgement and walks off.

Fuuuuuuuuck. Could this morning be going any worse? First you wake up half-drunk in the bed of someone you absolutely should not have been with and now your ex-whatever-he-was is here looking for you. You close your eyes, hoping Hvitserk lies about your whereabouts.

“What do you mean, you got in a fight? What happened?” He asks. Good, you think, keep stalling, Hvit.

“Well, she kind of caught me hooking up with someone at the party last night.”

“Fucking hell, man,” Hvitserk groans. “Why do you always do this?”

“I don’t know! I’m just not good at this stuff.”

“That’s not an excuse for cheating on your girlfriend. Again.”

“We’re not boyfriend and girl–”

“To hell with that,” Hvitserk interrupts. “You two are the only people in the world who date and live together for over a year, yet continue to insist that you aren’t putting labels on it. Newsflash, asshole: she’s your girlfriend.”

“Maybe…but I’m not sure she’s my anything anymore. She seriously opened the bedroom door and saw this girl riding me, man. It wasn’t like the other times. She didn’t cry or yell or curse me or anything – just said some shit about being ‘disappointed but not surprised’ and left. By the time I threw the girl off me and chased after her, I saw her getting in motherfucking Uhtred’s car. Like he was just waiting for this to happen so he could swoop in and play hero. Piece of shit. Fuck!”

You’d heard enough. You square your shoulders, open the door, and walk down the hall to the living room.

Hvitserk stops whatever he was about to say when he sees you entering the room, his mouth falling open.

You look Ivar in the eye before turning back to his brother. “I’ll text you later,” you say before you glide out of the apartment.

[therealvikingstrash]

Can you pretty please work your magic on this one for Ubbe/Hvitty? feeling for each other in the dark 🥰

The magic of hurt you mean 🤣 but to answer your question, yes, I can 😘 it should be noted that @adrille88 asked for the same prompt within a couple hours, which cracked me up a ton xD I love our hivemind sometimes, latching onto something and declaring it an Ubbe/Hvitserk thing 😂

for everyone against incest: you better not read, this dove is very dead.

-

When Hvitserk grew up, he was used to being surrounded by his brothers. He was used to Ivar begging to be taken with them and Sigurd tagging along without even asking. There was not much he could do about it, as it would make him a hypocrite seeing as he followed Ubbe wherever his big brother went. 

And yet, it was still different as he shared a bed with Ubbe every night, how his brother looked back in an encouraging way, as if to tell him to hurry up and come with. Hvitserk didn't think he felt the same way about Ivar and Sigurd, as Ubbe did about him. There was this unspoken bond between them that should frighten Hvitserk with its intensity, but he didn't shy away- embraced the confusing feeling of excitement whenever Ubbe was close enough to touch. The prickling need to.

Some nights they fell asleep on opposite sides of the bed before Hvitserk found himself reaching out to take hold of his brother's tunic or let his fingertips brush over the warm skin of Ubbe's forearm. If he concentrated enough, Hvitserk was able to feel the prickling that reminded him of the loaded air before Thor would swing his hammer on a rainy day, could feel his brother long before he would make contact. 

The older they got, the less room they would have between them in their bed, but there were days Hvitserk would say or do something that aggravated Ubbe and he refused to apologize before they went to bed. Those following nights were worse than someone sitting on his chest with their full weight, stealing Hvitserk's breath at how careful Ubbe was to not touch his younger brother at any point. Only when the last of their candles had burned down and the night had gotten so dark he could not see what was before his eyes, he would reach out to touch Ubbe's back tentatively. 

It was always Hvitserk at night, Ubbe had no qualms pulling him in or squeezing his neck during the day. Even boldly brushed his lips against Hvitserk's cheek in front of everyone. This made him wonder at times, if people could see the nature of their relationship. He was sure Ivar had an inkling in the way he sometimes eyed them when he thought Hvitserk wouldn't see. Judging them.

At night though, when he overcame his stubbornness and the need to be close to Ubbe was unbearable, Hvitserk bit his lower lip in anticipation, listening to the soft puffs his brother breathed into his pillow before his palm met the place between Ubbe's shoulder blades. His back was bare of clothing, the summer heat making it unbearable to dress in much of anything. He didn't make any sound to acknowledge Hvitserk and so he moved closer to Ubbe, leaning his forehead against his brother's neck after brushing the long hair out of the way and whispering his apology against the heated skin as his hand found Ubbe's waist, squeezing lightly to wake him in case he hadn't heard.

A low rumble let him know though, followed by Ubbe taking hold of his hand and pulling it over to cause Hvitserk to lie flush against his older brother's back. He didn't stop though, didn't put Hvitserk's hand somewhere near his heart like usual and instead kissed his knuckles reassuringly. "You're a fool," Ubbe slurred, entwining their fingers to caress Hvitserk's palm with his thumb softly which prompted him to press himself even closer, stealthily kissing the skin of Ubbe's neck for as long as he could get away with it. 

So far, Ubbe had never told him off, but Hvitserk feared the day he would, feared how Ubbe would push him away to get rid of him and wouldn't allow him to come close anymore. "I know," Hvitserk replied, not wanting the gloomy thoughts of their possible separation to take over his mind. "Forgive me?" He asked, uncertain of how Ubbe would respond.

His brother turned, causing Hvitserk to move out of the way and lean up on his elbow. Even though he could not see his brother, he still looked down in hopes to find Ubbe's eyes to gauge his reaction. It was no use, but his brother must've intended the same thing, as his hand made careful contact with Hvitserk's face. Ubbe's fingertips danced over the roundness of his cheek and down to his chin to take a hold of it. 

And then there was his brother's hot breath ghosting over Hvitserk's bitten raw and sensitive lips. When Ubbe's nose brushed against his, he was certain his heart stopped momentarily before his lips were captured, not longer than the blink of an eye though, "Always." His older brother promised, laying his own feelings bare, how unable he was to stay angry at Hvitserk no matter how idiotic he had acted.

He fell asleep with his hand over Ubbe's heart, feeling it thump a steady drum in his chest that Hvitserk's own heart tried to mirror once it had stopped stumbling. 

Years passed and Hvitserk still reached out into the dark beside him, always when it's darkest and he longed the most for Ubbe. The cold sheets were the only thing he met in his search for the familiar warmth. His sleep-addled mind not catching up fast enough that he was a resident in Alfred's home now, far away from Kattegat and even further from Ubbe. He didn't think the vast space between them would close even if they embraced each other. 

Hvitserk rolled onto his stomach and pressed his face into the pillow, hoping his screams would be muffled, hoping he would suffocate when the full weight of his doing hit him at once and he could not deal with the pain in his heart. Always.

Perhaps Ubbe had forgiven him, but he didn't want him close anymore. Missing his brother felt worse than getting clean had, the pain in his body had stopped some day, but the one in his heart would be there until it gave out. He did wonder though, if on some nights Ubbe expected to feel Hvitserk's fingertips to brush against his back in a question and if he was as disappointed when it didn't happen as Hvitserk was when he reached into the empty space next to him at night. He wished Ubbe was missing him as much as he was hoping his older brother didn't have to live with such hurt in equal parts.

It was one of those nights he wanted Ubbe to ache for him as much as Hvitserk did and he couldn't find it within himself to be ashamed of that. Wiping over his eyes he turned back to his original sleeping spot and stared out of his window into the dark and cloudy sky. Missing the days he was annoyed by his many brothers, the easy times and soft smiles their mother would regard them with. He hated England for its many pitchblack nights the longer he stayed. Because of those, it was impossible to forget the need to reach out to his beloved brother.

-

touch prompt list

[waiting4inspiration]

Could I request for a snippet hvitty being uncharacteristically nervous and clumsy with his words and losing all confidence because he wants to ask you out but you're not just some girl like all the others, there's something different and he doesn't know how the hell people cope with these messy emotions? (And his brothers find it hilarious) 💗 from 🇫🇷

August Snippets Masterlist

"Look. There's (Y/n)." At Sigurd's words, Hvitserk spins around to find you, not thinking that there's no reason for you to be in the Great Hall where he and his brothers are.

Hearing his brothers chuckling at his reaction, he slowly turns back around to give Sigurd a dangerously dark glare. "That's not funny," he mutter, raising his cup of mead to his lips so he can take a sip, but to also hide the embarrassment on his face.

"You're right," Ubbe speaks, looking at Sigurd and then Ivar as if to tell them off for laughing at Hvitserk. But then an amused smile returns to Ubbe's face. "It's hilarious."

Hvitserk rolls his eyes at them before casting his eyes to the ground. He dare not say anything else, anything about you because he knows that he'll just give his brothers more to make fun of. Especially if he ends up stumbling over his words.

"Why don't you just confess your feelings to her already? Then we would stop making fun of your misery," Ivar mentions, slight annoyance in his voice as he looks over at Hvitserk again.

"That's easier said than done. I don't know what it is about her, but she makes me lose my words whenever I see her," Hvitserk starts to explain, keeping his eyes on the cup in his hands as he shifts in his seat. "No matter how much I practice what I want to say to her, I just forget it all when I'm standing in front of her." He turns the cup in his hands, biting the inside of his lip in frustration, just waiting for his brothers to make fun of him again.

"Well, that's your problem. You practice too much when you should just spit it out."

"Well, then why don't you do it if you think it's so easy?" he fights Ubbe back, finally lifting his eyes up to him to give him a challenging look.

A smirk grows on Ubbe's face. "Maybe I will," he says back, pushing himself off his chair and starting to head towards the door.

Hvitserk's quick to shoot up out of his own seat to tackle his brother to the ground. Or at least try. He ends up chasing his brother out of the Great Hall, trying to stop him from getting to you first.

Snippets Tags- @simsadventures @cruelfvkingsummer @moonie-flower101 @rinkashirikitateku @louisolos @encounterthepast @youbloodymadgenius @buckysjuicyplums @noseyrosey1597

[jadelynlace]

ink drinker / Modern Vikings AU, Ivar x F!Reader, Chapter 3

catch up here!

synopsis: Ivar was only meant to be a friend with benefits, but he caught feelings for his older brother’s best friend, and co-worker: you.

pairing: Ivar x F!Reader

author’s note & content warning: mentions of depression, self harm and suicidal thoughts; all pertaining to Ivar, not reader. mentions of therapy, medication and past history of self inflicted & blooming trauma. please read at your own risk. my messages are always, always open for anyone who may ever need a listener. anything in italics indicates a flash back. there are so many fucking feelings in this chapter that I just, am apologizing now. but there’s smut!

✎

It was gloomy the morning you remembered finally catching a glimpse of Ivar’s scars. Adorned and nearly smothered by him in his bed, the small snores from him somewhere draped across your skin, traveling over the plains in warm boulders. You were always drawn to the artwork on his limbs, there was always a smaller detail you missed and found within your next search but through the endless gazes you finally caught sight of the jagged white flesh. The since healed lacerations and your medical knowledge took full force of your mind. They were scars, they were healed scars, but they were scars from the straight edge of a razor blade. With such precision and such aftermath you knew they were the scars with one intent within their making. And they were there to tell you the secret horrors Ivar had not yet spoken—that there was a point where he felt his heart should no longer beat, and his lungs should no longer fill and that his life was meaningless. And that he should end it.

*

“Can I ask you something?” You finally find yourself mumbling; words floating through the cabin of the parked ambulance on stand by. Hvitserk’s coffee halfway through to his stomach when you peep in such a meek voice he almost coughs the molten liquid back out.

“Yeah, of course, Y/N,”

“How bad is Ivar’s depression?” And you simply ask. No foreword to the speech, no coating of sugar or dusting of fake joy. As blunt as you had been trained to voice the death of a loved one to their family. “I saw the medication in his cabinet, and I saw the scars on his wrists. I know it’s none of my business because he’s your brother, but…” and you can’t find a lie to justify it. Not ready to spill to your partner about the times Ivar had spilled into the condoms with you.

“Bad,” Hvitserk says, and just as bluntly. “He…he tried to kill himself in college. I don’t know if you’ve noticed how he’s never available Saturdays from eleven to noon, but that’s when he has therapy. I had been trying to convince him since high school to see someone, and Floki finally got through to him not too long ago,” He adds. “When I got that phone call from mom that he was in the hospital—I felt like such a failure, Y/N, because I knew it was coming and I did nothing to stop it,” Your hand goes to his wrist for a second, a quick squeeze of added support as you listen.

“Sometimes people refuse what’s good for them, Hvitty,” You start. “You should know that—how many times have we explained to someone why they should go to the hospital with us, but they still refuse?” He finally cracks a smile at that. “Do you think he’s in a better place now, mentally?”

“Either that, or he’s just stable. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Ivar doesn’t like to talk about his feelings…”

“Wow Hvitserk, I had no idea,” You tease, nudging him with both your elbow and sarcastic tone as the voice on the radio fills into the cabin. Your stand by is over and the conversation is dropped as you leave the scene.

*

There had been instances where you think he might be ready; he might understand that the new gifting of your relationship status might help him to realize you aren’t joking when you offer to listen. You’d listen to Ivar talk until he ran out of things to say if it came to that. More times now the words perched themselves on his lips, ready to spring forwards but he keeps pulling them back. He keeps swallowing them because they’re mixed like bile and stew and far too gross, far too un-human for him to even want to try to speak them to you. And then Ivar kicks himself for drowning these demons who have started to learn to swim and he sees you in your uniform and remembers that nothing phases you. You watch open heart surgery on the television while you eat his mother’s lasagna without a care in the world or a realization that what you were doing is unusual. 

“Can I talk to you?” Ivar says bluntly, sitting like a cowered dog in the living room and you’re hardly through his front door when he asks. You can feel how your head rises slowly, a quick snarky word to come back but you bite down on your tongue so roughly you can taste blood as you just look at him. You have never seen a man of his stature try to look so small, try to be so invisible. Worry comes to your face just as quickly as the next breath passes through your diaphragm and you’re on the couch before you even take your shoes off. “It’s messy,” He finally admits. Shallow and dead and you can see the broken boy that has tried to hide himself through the bulked muscles and the tattoos; the glare through his blue eyes and the curved lip.

“Most of what involves the human body is messy, Ivar,” You find yourself saying back, and it sounds pathetic to your ears. It sounds like you’re trying to tell the parent of a dead child that you know how they feel but you don’t. And you never will. But Ivar shedding this skin for you feels like you’re walking through the motions on a call, eyes from crowds of people crawling over and stuck on your every move. And every move that comes next like they’re watching a soap opera with their dinner and they’ve disconnect that what is happening is real, it’s someones life. Just like how you have to disconnect. But in this moment it’s Ivar, and you’re present. 

“Like paint,” Ivar mumbles next. 

“Yeah, like paint,” You repeat and there’s a smile on your lips for a second. “Ivar? You don’t do that anymore, do you?” You finally find the courage to ask.

“No,” Ivar says as he glances down at his right hand’s wrist, shoving the skin next to the sweatshirt he’s wearing as if rubbing it on the gray cotton will make those scars dissipate. “I get tattoos instead,” That causes a sick button to click in your consciousness as to why Ivar is so heavily covered from his shoulders to his ankles in artwork. How the sting of the needle dawning the creations reminded him of the blade he tried to use to make the mess of thoughts fly away. To make the demons come free through his skin and leave him with peace, if only a moment. 

“What helps? What helps you stay present?” You ask. Ivar blinks far too many times, sorting through his brain for the answers as if it’s a container of memorabilia that’s so unorganized even his mother can’t stand the sight of it.

“My brothers help, sometimes,” He says. “I think about how devastated my mom would be. I think about Floki. I think about all of the people in my life who say they want me here even when my mind is trying to tell me I don’t deserve to be.”

“I want you here, Ivar.” You say back and catch how he looks at you when you admit such.

“Why? Have you seen yourself, Y/N? You could have anyone you want and you choose me…” The sentence breaks your heart but you now know the darkness the climbs between his ears. The seed planted so long ago in the depths of brown ground somewhere and you want to pull it from the mental garden. You want to rip the roots right from the soil and burn them so they never have a chance to infest any farther.

“No one makes me feel the way you do, Ivar,” Are the first words from your mouth. “You make me smile, you make me feel important—you remind me how to escape. Even on the worst possible days I can have, you bring me back to reality.” You want to tell him how he’s addicting, how there’s a quality to him you can’t articulate but always keeps you coming back. How you want to keep coming back because both your mind, and your body know it’s safe. How he was someone so mysterious from the outside but past every highly built wall is a man who is just so simply himself. “Because you’re you, Ivar. With the bachelor’s degree in calculus, and the copious amounts of tattoos, and a heart of gold that…you forget that you have,” You finally add. “You’re someone different to the rest of the world, but you’re the real Ivar around me,” You worry that the silence that over takes him is a sign of something else. A sign that you spoke too much, again, and scarred him for more than he could withstand. And then he smiles. 

But you can’t understand why—why he smiles for someone like you. The one who let him design your first ever tattoo to his heart’s content. The one who has the same twisted sense of humor. The one who will bicker back and challenge him. The one who gets to see him fall apart between your legs. The one who makes him hard, and has him make those noises. The moans, the heavy panting and rasped groans as he bottoms out and moves through you. The one who gets to watch how his eyes snap shut, and his mouth drops open when you clench around him; how his entire back tenses when he’s close. How he holds you as he fills the rubber with everything he has. The man who loves your nails trailing on his skin. The man who smothers you every night that he spends with you, and every morning when you wake and he’s still there. Making you coffee and cooking you breakfast. How he knows your takeout order from your favorite places, and your work schedule. What food to have at his own apartment, and what movies he should have on demand. The spare clothes he keeps there for when you come over after work, ready to take the ambulance grime from your skin. The pads that are in his bathroom closet, the painkillers. The bottle of “girly white wine” that he won’t admit to drinking too, because it is damn good wine. The man who knows to check in with you during the day, and again to make sure you really are alright. The same man who knows if you don’t text him back, you and Hvitserk have gone knee deep into either a bullshit call, or a tragic one. As shocked as you were that he was listening to what you were saying—and taking it to heart—you were stunned that you hadn’t caught on to how obvious it was that Ivar was in love with you. Even with all of the time you spend crammed between your own thoughts.

“There’s a lot to sort through,” Ivar says again.

“That’s okay, Ivar,” You remind him, your head resting on his shoulder and you feel him shift, move his arm to encompass you as you curl against his side.

“You smell like bleach,” He softly laughs, his nose deep against your hair and you snort, reminded of the decontamination duties you were gifted from the calls today.

“Better than Hvitserk, who got puked on,” You reply. “Shower?” And you can feel Ivar nod against you. 

His hands don’t move rapidly to shed your clothing, or to shed his own. There’s a certain calmness through his motions as he waits for the water to warm, slipping your polo from your shoulders, and planting his lips in its wake. Against the base of your neck, your spine, hugging your body flush against his in front of the mirror. Your eyes catch sight of his hands coming back around you, squeezing your breasts and you can’t stop the moan that crawls from your mouth. The traces of artwork on his fingers as his lips move from your neck, to the shell of your ear and graze your pulse point. There’s a push from your backside against his groin, and Ivar growls in response, humming not far after as you feel how his cock hardens the farther his hands roam.   

Down your sides, your abdomen, swirling through your folds and dipping between them to catch your juices. Circling against the bundle of nerves he knows so precisely and you moan twice as loudly, and he does too as you moisten to his fingers. Your hands move to grab at him, anywhere they can and you find one hand holding his neck and the other wrapping around his length. Your nails crawl to his hair, pulling the locks down as his fingers take to moving quickly, spreading your womanhood and arousal and you suddenly can’t wait much longer to have him. And he can tell by how you whimper, whisper to him about how you want to feel him inside of you and there’s no fight anywhere on his body to try to deny the tone of your begging. Ivar’s eyes catch yours in the mirror as he finally pushes into you, the cold porcelain sink calming the heat of your skin as he bottoms out and rests his body against yours. There’s a sinful moan that comes through his lips as his eyes bore into yours, with the squeeze from your walls and warmth you spread through him and at first he can’t move, he only wants to savor it. His eyes finally close as he slips away from you, pushing in once more as your body rocks to the sink, singing back to him as the steam from the forgotten shower starts to fog against the mirror. Your name is through his lips as he moves, tattooed hands coming to find yours as he moves your body with each thrust, each timed sensation and you feel your own orgasm approaching. His mouth open on your ear, eyes screwed shut between love and ecstasy as his breath tickles down your face and you’re close now, far closer and far faster than you’ve ever been

“Ivar—” comes your voice and there’s only a hum in response, wordlessly pleading for you to let go because he’s got you, and you know that. Your knuckles white washed against his as you finish, shaking against the sink and you miss how Ivar’s eyes watch you unfold. Studying the pleasure laced in your features. 

“Where, baby?” He says quickly, and you shudder as you remember he’s bare now, condom long since forgotten but there are still the small pills you swallow. Still working somewhere you know of, but the accuracy decreases when you take them irregularly—and there’s a big part of your life that calls for that to happen. The alarming lights and loud tones. But you know that you’re safe. With Ivar you’re always safe.

“Inside,” You finally say, his hips stopping to starve off the inevitable as he waits for you to be sure, as he waits to see the seriousness on your face so he knows you aren’t lying in the heat of the moment. And you have to say it again for him to start up again, remind him that you have a safety net. The sensitivity in your cunt melts as he keeps moving and you can tell another orgasm is starting to build. Ivar reaches from your hand quickly and starts his fingers against your clit, quick circles as you hear him get louder, feel his other arm move to crush you and you catch his face as he finishes. The sight searing in your vision and colliding with how he moves with you and your second release rolls through you. His seed spilling and you both moan, his lips still plastered against your ear and you can feel the shake through his whole body as he floats back down. The tense in his thighs pushing you against the counter. There’s a whimper next from him, as he stills, wrapping tightly to hold you there, like it was all a dream he doesn’t want to wake up from. 

“I love you,” You hear him say against your skin and you’re right there to repeat it back to him. “You don’t have to mean it,” He then tries and you already know what he’s doing.

“I do, Ivar,” You say back, trying to make him look at you through the mirror but his eyes are still closed. He slowly slips from you, his release sticking between your thighs as he slides away and you’re only then able to turn in his arms. Reaching forwards to pull his mouth against his. “I love you. You and me Ivar, against the world,” You say and he hums at that, a small snicker not far after. 

“I like how that sounds, baby,” His smile comes next, dopey and boyish as he finally looks into your eyes and understands that you don’t doubt any part of him. You love it all—the good and the bad and the evil things he may think about himself. You love them all because you know he feels the same way when it comes to you. “The hot water’s going to run out soon,” He mumbles as he holds you. And standing in the shower is not much more different, still wrapped up safely in his arms as you both feel the troubles melt down the drain.

Tags:

@smileysam13579 @dreamtherapy @heisentwerk @angelofthenightposts @ill-skillsgard @youaremyfamiliar @unbetaedimagines @kathryn-jane @readsalot73 @skrsgardspam @lihikainanea @victoria-styles @queen-sarang   @anastasiaskarsgard @andmyannabellee @youbloodymadgenius @apenas-mais-uma-pessoa @walkxthexmoon  @flowers-in-your-hayr @peachyboneless @heavenly1927 @theanxietyqueen17 @trip2themoon @love-all-things-writing @mighty-ragnarssons @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom @quantumlocked310

*please message me to be added or removed from my tag list. specifications for series are welcomed, as well as feedback!*

full masterlist can be found here.

[artemiseamoon]

Vampire Hvitserk Headcanons

The seed

I may just ramble on this post 🤣 start a thread. I can’t let this idea go apparently @flowers-in-your-hayr 😁

- You wouldn’t know it by his clothes

- Or the way he so openly indulged in his blood lust

- But Hvitserk was the newest Ragnarsons to turn vampire

- At first glance you’d think he was the first

- It’s like he stepped out of some old Victorian Novel

- And he refused to walk the street in the day

- Only surfacing at nightfall

- Though, generations of evolution meant vampires could walk the day now. The sun was just - uncomfortable

- But not Hvitserk, large dark curtains covered his windows and he swore the sun would burn him alive

Omg this board is perfect!!! You bless us Gabi!

Vikings: @punkrocknpearls​ @alicedopey​ @naaladareia @charming-merlin

Hvitty: @solinarimoon​ @istorkyou @readsalot73​ @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie​ @beyond-the-ashes​ @shadow-of-wonder​ @ietss​ @Violetmoon74  @gearhead66​ @fandomficsaremylife​

[mrsalwayswrite]

Lost In You (Hvitserk x Reader)

This is my contribution to @maggiescarborough​ 400 followers writing challenge! Congrats again! 

The scenario I chose was the character asking reader/oc out or the other way around. And because why not, it is a Vikings/The Last Kingdom crossover! 

Also this is my first time writing Hvitserk! Yay! Let me know how I did! 

Warnings: angst, a couple swear words, fluff, bad pick-up lines

Words:5400

Tag List: @youbloodymadgenius​

  "Who is that?" 

 "Mmmm, which one?" Siri asked, openly ogling in the direction your friend, Erika, had gestured. 

 "Oh, those are some of Ubbe's friends from university." Torvi answered, with a glance over her shoulder. "He invited them since he never sees them anymore."

 "Hot damn. The one with the long hair, I'd like to climb him like a tree all night long." Wiggling her blonde eyebrows, Siri laughed at her own joke. 

 Curious now, you peeked over at the three men who were animatedly talking to Ubbe. There was no denying they were all gorgeous in their own ways. Somehow everyone within the social circle of the Lothbroks was beautiful, as if it was some unspoken requirement. These three certainly exceeded that requirement. Glancing around the backyard, you noticed right away that your friends were not the only ones ogling the newcomers. You doubted the men would be leaving alone tonight. 

 One of the three, with long, dark hair pulled back in a man bun and a crooked smile, caught your eyes staring. A warmth rose to your cheeks at the realization you had been caught. Though as his blue eyes held yours, you found yourself unable to look away, entranced by his unrestrained confidence. After an unending second of staring at one another, he sent you a naughty wink. Your eyes darted away at the raw suggestive feel the simple action had. You had no idea that a simple wink could feel so lascivious….and rousing. 

 "Oh gods, did you see that?" Erika asked, giggling like a schoolgirl. "One just winked this way."

 "Pretty sure he was winking at y/n." Torvi teased, nudging your shoulder as she stood next to you on the back deck.  

 "Yeah, no." You countered, fiddling with the label of the beer bottle in your hand. "That was probably towards one of you guys."

 Torvi sighed, pursing her lips at you. "Don't start this again, y/n. You are gorgeous and anyone who says differently is a blind asshole."

 Taking a sip of your beer, you did not bother to reply. Instead you gave Torvi a smile in thanks but kept your own insecurities to yourself. She had heard you more than enough times complain about things you disliked about yourself. Besides, today was not about you. You were supposed to be here having fun and supporting Ubbe and Torvi. 

 Luckily, Torvi started talking about the latest venue she had checked out for her and Ubbe's wedding next year. It was a perfect distraction since she had asked you to be one of her bridesmaids. Your small group talked about the outdoor wedding she wanted and how beautiful the fall colors would look in the pictures. 

 Ubbe's birthday party was in full swing. The mansion he and his brothers lived in was full of Ubbe's friends and other family friends. You had grown up with the Ragnarssons, your mother and Aslaug were close friends. So whenever they decided to hang out, you tagged along to play with the boys. Because of that, you were close to all of them, having spent just as much time at their house as at your own. Over the years, you had grown particularly close to Hvitserk. The two of you just somehow clicked. On more than one occasion, he would sneak over to your house when he needed a break from the strained dynamics of his family, or he could not handle the animosity between Ivar and Sigurd. The two of you spilled secrets in the dark, promising to never tell another. Both of you shared your first kiss under the stars one night, giggling at how grown up you felt. 

 And somewhere along the way, your feelings of friendship turned into something far stronger. 

 Over the following years, your crush on him endured even as you tried to quell it, doing everything in your power to suppress the unwanted feelings. Not because he was a bad guy. No, he was one of the sweetest guys you knew. He was loyal to a fault, always with a kind word, and happily giving suffocating hugs that felt like being embraced by a gooey marshmallow. 

 No, you refused to become another one of the girls that paraded in and out of his bedroom like the revolving door it was. 

 Besides, he never showed any hint of romantic feelings towards you. Usually he introduced you as one of his best friends. Which was just fine with you, he was one of your best friends and you would not trade that for the world. If fate had it planned that the two of you would only remain friends during your lives, you were happy with that. 

 So you did your best to ignore your unrequited feelings, focusing on finding love beyond him. There had been a couple boyfriends but most were scared away when you tried to bring them around the Ragnarssons. Ivar and Bjorn seemed to get particular enjoyment out of not-so-subtly threatening them. Hvitserk just openly glared the whole time, never saying a word of acknowledgement. Only Ubbe and Sigurd feigned being nice, but even that was less than desirable. Pretty quickly you stopped bringing boyfriends around. It was better for all parties if the Ragnarssons were not involved in your love life. What little it did consist of. 

 Suddenly, Erika's whisper-shout silenced the wedding conversation that was still happening around you. "Oh gods, they are coming over here! Shit! Act natural!" 

 "You're the only one freaking out." Torvi deadpanned, with a good-natured roll of her eyes. She looked up and smiled at Ubbe as he approached with his university friends. 

 "This here is my gorgeous fiancée, Torvi!" Ubbe announced, coming around and wrapping his arms around her waist to plant a sweet kiss on her cheek. She leaned back into his chest without a second thought, the action so instinctual. 

 "Aye, I remember you." One of Ubbe's friends, with a thick Irish accent, said. "You was datin' Bjorn when we first met."

 "Oh yeah, I remember that. One of you was super drunk and kept trying to take his pants off to piss in the fountain." She replied with a knowing smile. 

 The Irishman slung an arm around the dark-haired man, who winked in your direction earlier. "That would be Uhtred here! That was certainly a good night."

 The group laughed as Uhtred threw the Irishman's arm off and the two started a mock fist fight, ending with Uhtred putting the Irishman into a headlock. The two broke apart, laughing jovial and pushing one another like little boys. 

 "Right, where are my manners?" Ubbe said, once the two men settled somewhat. He pointed at each person as he named them, but kept his arms around his fiancée. "These guys are Finan, Uhtred and Sihtric, my mates from university. We roomed together in our first year, and the university couldn't separate us after, no matter how hard they tried. The other lovely ladies here are Erika, Siri and Y/n."

 You gave a polite smile when your name was said but dropped your gaze back to the beer in hand, fiddling with the wrapper on it. Uhtred made a point to catch your eye when you looked up, a charming smile on his face that you were sure made women drop their panties in a heartbeat. Even now you could feel his burning gaze on you, like oil gliding across your skin. 

 Soon Finan began sharing stories from back in their university days and some of the trouble they would get in, especially Ubbe, which made everyone laugh and Ubbe try to defend his honor or just hide his face in the crook of Torvi's neck. 

 "What are you thinking about?"

 You startled at the smooth, husky voice whispering in your ear. How Uhtred suddenly snuck up next to you was a little frightening. You pressed your hand over your racing heart, as if that alone would calm it down. "Um, nothing. Just….nothing." You took a sip of your drink to squelch your blabbering, unnerved and more than a little turned-on by the way his breath ghosted over your skin. 

 He raised a mocking brow, a devilish smirk on his lips as if he could somehow sense what his close proximity alone was doing to you. 

 You decided to break the tension. "It's Uhtred, right?"

 "Yes. Uhtred Ragnarsson."

 "Oh no, not another Ragnarsson!" You gasped, pretending to be horrified. 

 He laughed, a beautiful sound that had you swooning a little. Running a hand over the back of his neck, he grinned down at you. "Luckily, from a very different Ragnar. And how do you know Ubbe?"

 "We grew up together."

 "Ah, you're that y/n. I've heard a lot about you."

 "Hopefully all good things."

 "So far…" he leaned in closer, bringing his lips against your ear and setting your nerves alight, ".... but I wouldn't mind learning more about you."

 You swallowed, the low tone and those bedroom eyes made a warmth curl low in your belly. Your answer came out before you even could comprehend a response. "I'd like that."

 His smile grew, even as his face hovered just over yours. "Can I get you another drink?"

 "Please." 

 *****

 "Hvitty, what are you staring at?" Sigurd asked, taking a seat near his brothers. Although he may have been talking to Hvitserk, his gaze remained zeroed in a beautiful brunette nearby and the way she kept coyly glancing at him. 

 "Who is that guy?"

 Sigurd finally turned to look in the direction Hvitserk was glaring. "What guy?"

 "The one sitting with y/n." Hvitserk grumbled, rolling his beer bottle between his hands. 

 "You mean the one that looks like he wants to fuck her all night long?" Ivar said bluntly. His arrogant smirk grew when Hvitserk whipped his head around to give Ivar a withering look. Not that his elder brother's look bothered him, actually amusing him further, so he continued speaking. "Ubbe said he was inviting some university friends. Probably one of them."

 "I don't like him." Hvitserk spat out, returning his glare to you and this university friend of Ubbe's. The two of you were standing with a small group, listening to someone with a thick Irish accent tell some kind of story. Hvitserk gritted his teeth as he watched this friend lean down to whisper in your ear, making you smile and laugh. You tried to smack his chest but the guy caught your hand in the last second and brought it to his lips, planting a soft kiss on your palm while gazing at you with a look that radiated hunger. 

 "Why?" Ivar needled, watching the drama play out before him with unrestrained glee. 

 Hvitserk finally answered after a minute, caught up in watching you smile bashfully up at the dark-haired stranger, who tugged you towards some nearby chairs. "I don't….I don't trust him."

 Normally the two youngest sons of Ragnar were like oil and water; but in this moment, they glanced at each other and back to their elder brother with matching looks of mischief. 

 "Where is that girl that was sitting on your lap earlier? Figured you would have gone back to her place or up to your bedroom by now." Sigurd casually questioned Hvitserk, leaning back in his seat. "She was pretty, seemed like your type."

 "No, my dear brother, he got rid of her just after he noticed y/n and that guy talking." Ivar said with a shit-eating grin. 

 Hvitserk wanted to snarl at his brothers, tell them to mind their own business. Instead he took a long draw of his beer, pointedly ignoring them. Of course, Ivar would notice something so miniscule as that. His youngest brother noticed everything. Yes, Hvitserk had a girl on his lap, his hands and lips trailing over her exposed skin. The fire in his blood instantly cooled when he looked up long enough to see the stranger talking to you. Without a second thought, he pushed the girl off of his lap, much to her protests and chagrin, and moved to take a seat next to Ivar. He pretended he just wanted some air when really he could not drag his eyes off of you. 

 The youngest Ragnarsson continued, hand tapping idly on one of his leg braces. "It has been some time since y/n had a boyfriend. This might be good for her." 

 "Maybe she'll get laid tonight." Sigurd raised his beer bottle in a mock salute before taking a sip.  

 That last comment pushed him over the edge. Wordlessly, Hvitserk jumped to his feet and walked away, unable to hear it anymore. It was no secret, him and his brothers were protective of you and had chased off a fair number of guys over the years. Though, their protective streak waned after you finally confronted them about leaving your love life alone. Since then, the brothers kept an eye on you but no longer interfered unless you signaled them. The arrangement made sense, you never involved yourself in the many women the brothers pursued, so now they showed you equal courtesy. 

 For some reason tonight, it was different. 

 The flaxen-haired Ragnarsson walked past the other party-goers, ignoring the cheers, laughs, and few calls for his attention. A drinking game started at the fold-out table situated in the grass. Music filled the air, Ubbe's taste in music since this was his party. Suddenly though, it was all too much. 

 Storming inside the house the brothers shared with no real destination in mind except to just move, he was pleased to find the kitchen vacant. Leaning against the marble counter in the kitchen, he ran his hands over his braids, heart pounding for some reason. The urge to punch something, or someone, seemed to grow with each second that passed. He absent-mindedly wondered if this was how Ivar felt all the time. 

 Peering out the window over the kitchen sink, he could see you sitting next to Ubbe's dark-haired friend on a lawn chair. From this position, it appeared you were almost in the guy's lap. One of your hands clasped a beer while the other toyed with the necklace you habitually wore. With a wicked look, the stranger leaned over to whisper in your ear, one of his hands resting on your hip. Whatever he said made you laugh, as you threw your head back, mirth spilling from you. For anyone else, it would have been sweet to watch the two of you, a connection and a growing infatuation evident. 

 The scene caused Hvitserk's blood to boil. He gripped onto the counter's edge to ground himself before he went out there and punched the guy. It made no sense. He had no right to try and separate the two of you. Feelings be damned, every part of his body revolted at the scene unfolding before him and how he allowed it to happen. Slamming his eyes shut, he silently counted to ten, willing himself to settle. He knew he needed to walk away….but his feet refused to move. 

 "Hey, Hvitserk."

 Slowly opening his eyes, he looked over his shoulder at the call of his name. A pretty blonde stood just inside the kitchen, twirling a piece of hair around her finger with an enticing smile and a body begging to be touched. He remembered her. He fucked her a week ago. Staring at her now, her name continued to slip his mind. Did he even know her name at the time?

 "Hey." He replied unenthusiastically, maintaining his grip on the counter edge. 

 "What are you doing in here?" She asked, walking closer to him, her hips swaying with each step. 

 "Nothing."

 "Oh, well are you bored? Do you need some company?" She trailed a finger down his arm, peeking at him through her long lashes. "I can think of a few ways this night could end for us."

 He looked down at her. Any other time he would have jumped her in a heartbeat. It would have been almost too easy to drag her upstairs and fuck her until they were both delirious with pleasure. 

 "I'm good." He stated, looking away from her and back out the window. 

 "You sure I can't change your mind? I mean last time we had…."

 Uncaring of how harsh he sounded, he shrugged her arm off. "I said I'm good. Fuck off."

 Her eyes widened for a moment before they narrowed at him and she took a step back. "Fine. Fuck you, Hvitserk." She stomped out of the kitchen, each step a clatter on the hard floor. 

 "You just tried." He muttered to himself, dropping his head to his chest.  

 What was wrong with him? He knew what it was though. Or more specifically- who. A war waged in his chest and he worried the repercussions of either side winning. This limbo would surely kill him. 

 Peering out the window, he could not take his eyes off of you. Although you vehemently disagreed, he thought you always looked beautiful. Tonight though, in the fading sunlight, you looked gorgeous. Like a new light had been ignited in you, radiating joy and life. It was mesmerizing to witness. 

 "Hey! Probably should start wrapping the party up in an hour or so. Way more people turned out than I thought." Ubbe said with a beaming smile as he walked into the kitchen, dropping some empty beer bottles on the counter. At his brother's silence, he stopped and really looked at him. "Hvitty, you alright, man?"

 "Yeah, of course." He snarked, not in the mood for his older brother's prying. "Why wouldn't I be?"

 "First, you're lingering in the kitchen like some housecat looking for food, which I guess isn't that strange."

 Hvitserk's lips twitched but he continued to stare out the window.

 "Secondly, it looks like you're trying to set Uhtred's head on fire with how hard you are staring."

 He sighed, rubbing a hand down his face."It's nothing, Ubbe. Don't worry about it. Go head back out."

 After a moment, Ubbe grabbed two new beers from the cooler and came over to his brother's side, passing him one of the drinks. With a murmured thanks, Hvitserk took it, immediately popping the top and taking a long draw. They stood silently for several minutes, just sipping on their beers and watching the party outside in companionable silence. 

 "You going to tell her?" Ubbe finally asked, keeping his gaze straight ahead. 

 Hvitserk stiffened and pressed his lips together, the urge to hit something renewed after Ubbe's question. 

 "You can't get mad at her for wanting love and attention, especially when she's not getting it from the person she wants it from most." Ubbe glanced over at his sullen brother but plowed on. "Look, I know you like fucking around but if you expect her to keep waiting around for you….she won't. And it looks like she and Uhtred are really hitting it off. I won't stop them just cause you won't tell her how you feel."

 "What are you saying, Ubbe?" He growled, though if the steadily increasing anger was directed more at his brother or himself, he could not tell. 

 "I'm saying man up and tell her, or let her go. It's up to you." With a clap on the shoulder, Ubbe headed back outside. 

 Hvitserk took a sip of his beer, Ubbe's words bouncing around in his head. Over the years, the crush you had on him had not gone unnoticed, though he never addressed it. Ubbe eventually confronted him about it, forcing Hvitserk to reveal his own secret. He knew what he wanted. He had known for a long time. Was it too late though? Had he fucked up his chances for real happiness? Did he even deserve you anymore?

 *****

 You laughed, covering your mouth to try and muffle the uproarious sound. "That one was great! Ok, ok, tell me another."

 Uhtred sat behind you on the lawn chair, smiling broadly as he took a sip of his beer. Since he walked over to you at the beginning of the party, the two of you had been inseparable. He seemed to take particular pleasure out of making you laugh and currently he was telling you some of the best and worst pick-up lines he knew. Apparently, him and Finan liked to come up with new ones when they were bored. 

 He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling your back closer to his chest as he whispered in your ear. "You're so hot, even my zipper is falling for you."

 Giggling, you covered your face. Not just because of the silly line but ever since the two of you sat down, him practically pulling you into his lap, he had you teetering on the edge of arousal. The way his broad chest felt pressed against you, the rumble sound when he chuckled, and those damn bedroom eyes with that smirk which promised so many beautiful, naughty things. It was driving you insane. 

 "Is your name Wi-Fi? Because I'm really feeling a connection." He said, his hand slowly trailing up and down your thigh. 

 "Please tell me someone has used that."

 "Finan did at a pub once."

 "I don't know him, but I'm guessing it worked." 

 Uhtred chuckled, giving you a playful wink. "It did."

 You tried to tamper down the butterflies dancing in your belly from that simple action. "Alright, what is one you've never used?"

 He thought about it for a second then in a flash, he licked up the rim of your ear. 

 "What?" You squirmed and tried to wipe your ear off. "What was that for?"

 He laughed, while his hand kept you pinned to him. "If you lick something, you get to keep it. Everyone knows that. So now you're mine."

 "Well if you're going to claim me, you could have done it without licking my ear."

 You swore his eyes darkened as he stared down at you. His voice husky as he whispered in your ear. "And if there are other parts of you I want to lick?"

 Your breath caught in your throat, desire slipping through your blood. "Guess you need to work on your lines." You whispered back, hoping it sounded confident but sure it sounded more needy with want. 

 "I'm a man of action, I'd rather show you what I want to do."

 "Like what?"

 With a cocky smirk, he slowly lowered his head until his lips touched yours. You gasped but gave in without remorse, allowing him to lead you in a slow dance. His lips were pure seduction, caressing and teasing, making you yearn for more. His tongue flicked over your lips before he pulled back, eyes scanning over your face to gauge your reaction. 

 "That….that was much more convincing than a pick-up line." You breathed out. 

 "I'm glad you approve."

 "What else can you show me?"

 His gaze dropped back to your lips and you tensed with anticipation. 

 "Y/N!!" 

 You almost gave yourself whip-lash with how quickly you spun your head around at the call of your name. You saw Hvitserk approaching, hands in fists by his side and jaw clenched. His abrupt yell had most of those still around watching the two of you with curiosity. 

 "What?" You asked, your body vibrating with confusion and need.

 "Come here. I need to talk to you." He kept his hard gaze on you, making you feel like a child about to be reprimanded by their older sibling. 

 "Can we talk later?"

 "No, it's important."

 "She's busy right now." Uhtred declared, snaking his arm around your waist. You knew the move was possessive and with the way Hvitserk's eyes narrowed and burned with intensity, you knew Uhtred's move was not for your sake.

 Hvitserk met your eyes, pleading in a way you had never seen before and his tone suddenly soft. "Y/n….please."

 You sighed, those damn puppy dog eyes. "Fine, this better be important." You grumbled, removing yourself from Uhtred's embrace. 

 "Don't take too long, I'll be waiting." Uhtred said, flashing you a charming smirk. 

 You smiled at Uhtred then followed Hvitserk back towards the house. There were a few looks of confusion from those you passed by that you caught, but otherwise most people ignored the two of you, too focused on the party. Besides, everyone knew you and Hvitserk were friends so it was no surprise to see you in one another's company. 

 Your mind wandered as to what the issue could be. Surprise coursed through you as he led you up the stairs towards the brothers' bedrooms. Once Ivar, in a drunken fit, insulted a girl so harshly she had burst into inconsolable, wailing tears, forcing the brothers to pull her away into one of their rooms to calm her down. Maybe something like that had happened again? You tried to remember if you saw Ivar recently but realized you had been too absorbed in Uhtred to truly take notice. 

 Hvitserk led you into his bedroom, the door slamming closed behind you. With a quick glance you noted the two of you were alone. The bed was still made, so he had not brought a girl up yet. Confusion continued to mount within you. 

 "What's going on?" You finally asked, taking a seat on the edge of his bed. 

 Instead of answering, he paced several times in front of you, running his hands over his braids. A couple times he stopped, turning to you and opening his mouth but then immediately closed it to continue pacing. It was quickly becoming infuriating. Plus he was going to ruin his braids with how hard he was running his hands over them. 

 "Hvitty, you need to tell me what is going on or I'm going to go back out. You said it was important."

 His pacing ceased. Twisting to face you, he threw his hands up as he exclaimed, "I want you to marry me!"

 You froze. Your jaw dropped as you stared at him. Only in your wildest fantasies did you ever think you would hear that uttered from his mouth. Years ago, you had buried that fantasy, knowing it would never come to pass. Now you stared at him, staring at you. Both of you seemed shocked by what he just blurted. 

 "Fuck, that's not what I meant to say first." 

 "So….so you don't want to marry me?" You tried to clarify, your mind scrambling to make sense of what just happened. 

 Mumbling something unintelligible, he ran his hands once more over his braids; then in what appeared a split second decision, he advanced closer, dropping to his knees in front of you. "Yes. I do. Fuck. I'm doing this all wrong."

 "Hvitserk, what is going on?"

 He sighed, placing his hands over yours as if to steady himself. His words poured forth like a confession, secrets finally freed yet terrified by the light now on them. "Ever since we were children, it's always been you. Whenever I thought about getting married, buying a house, having children….it was always with you. Never have I thought about it with anyone else. It's always been you….and….and it terrified me. You are one of my closest friends, gods, I don't know what I would do if you weren't in my life. I couldn't lose that, lose you. And with watching my parents and their marriage, I didn't….I didn't want us to go through something like that. So I never said anything. I fucked around because it was easier to pretend to be ok with that than realize I only ever saw you in my future….you've all I've ever wanted."

 Stunned, you gaped at him for a long time. "Why…." You licked your lips, mind fumbling to formulate a question. "Why are you telling me this now?"

 "Because you needed to know, or I just needed to tell you. I guess, I just needed to know if you would choose me, even after everything I've done. But if you rather be with someone like that guy out there, I get it. I mean, I figured I lost my chance years ago….but watching you out there. Fuck! I want it to be me. I want your smiles and laughs. I want to steal kisses from you. I want you in my bed, to roll over and hold you close. I want to live with you and kiss you before we leave for work. I want to watch you grow round with our child. I want the fights and frustrations. I just….it's always been you. I just want you….in everything."

 The two of you remained frozen in place for several minutes, his confession weighing heavily in the air around you. You stared into his earnest, brown eyes, searching them, studying them, confirming the truth. His words peeled back the layers you had built around your heart, to protect it from loving him too much. 

 In this moment you knew you teetered on the edge of a knife. If you fell one way, it would be into his arms, into a love you had only ever dreamed about. But if you fell the other way, everything would remain how it had been, you could be friends, freeing you both to pursue others. But this knowledge shared between you would haunt both of your actions forever. 

 Could you do it? After so long of pining after him, of your unrequited affections, did you trust him to fully reciprocate? 

 In your heart, you knew your answer even as he spoke. It laid there tattooed on your heart ever since you were children. 

 You finally broke the tense silence, bringing a hand up to lightly run over his frizzed braids. "You know, most guys ask a girl out on a date first before asking to marry them."

 He chuckled, catching your hand and pressing it to the side of his face. "That's true." 

 "Ask me."

 "What?" His brow furrowed faintly as he stared up at you, his thumb rubbing the back of your hand. 

 You took a deep breath before a small smile teased your lips. "Ask me to go on a date with you."

 "Y/n, will you go on a date with me?"

 "Yes. I would love to."

 His face beamed with a boyish smile and bright eyes alight. It made your heart stutter at how handsome he was, at the pure, genuine joy radiating from him. Surprising you, he kissed your palm quickly before a gleeful laugh escaped him. You could not help your own giggle. Everything felt so surreal, like the two of you had stepped into a dream, a bubble of your own making. Here, reality was irrelevant. You stared at one another with stupid smiles on your faces but neither cared.  

 "Can I kiss you?" He asked softly, gazing up at you with such a look of adoration, you felt yourself melting. 

 "You better."

 Without waiting an extra second, he captured your lips in a kiss that bespoke of longing. It started off with gentle, probing kisses that urged you to respond. A call you had no qualms about answering. Your tongue flicked against the seam of his lips and that was the key to unlock his restraint. Next thing you knew, you were on your back with him hovering over you, worshiping you using his mouth and tongue. You were utterly at his mercy and for once, you completely surrendered yourself to his touch, knowing he would be there to catch you. 

 The two of you laid there on his bed, tangled in one another, your mouths fused together as if you needed the other to continue breathing. Finally when air became a desperate necessity, he pulled back. Immediately, though, he set his forehead to yours, unwilling to move further away than that. 

 "Did you... want to go back out….to the party?" He panted out, his chest heaving just as much as yours. 

 You giggled, running a finger over his cheek to trace his deliciously, swollen lips. "No, I have everything I've ever wanted right here."

 Then you kissed him, letting him taste the truth on your tongue. Soon you became absorbed in each other's touch, utterly entwined and unwilling to ever part again. If this was what it meant to be lost in love, you both hoped to never be found. 

[honestsycrets]

Speak Carefully

Girl, DarkHvitty going berserker about other men making inappropriate comments about his wife body and lusting over her (maybe after she gives birth, like, they talking about how her boobs look bigger and used be steep and proud, and wondering how they would be now since she is breastfeeding and what the baby would do to her boobs, her ass looking wide and full, what they would do to her if they were her husband, this kind of stuff)... *swoon*

Warnings

Kind of dark Hvitty? Not too bad.

A/N: So you asked for dark!Hvitty, you got some dark Hvitty… except, its not exactly the cheery scenario I think you were hoping for. Sorry for the late post.

The gods give, the gods take away.

Wise words said at a time where Hvitserk was not ready for them. He had been away, loosening his braids in favor of a long slicked back look as he grieved bitterly. You didn’t have a hair out of place.

You were still a beautiful mess. You swept the great hall in a gorgeous aqua blue dress, strands laced tight and beautiful waterfall sleeves accentuating a whimsical appearance. Pretending that every night, you did not roll on your side to gaze at an empty bassinet. Or acting like there wasn’t a wall built up between Hvitserk and you. Hvitserk was nursing a blaring headache over a pitcher of ale, resting his head upon folded arms.

“Is he asleep?” Voices of those finishing their ale say.

“Must be. Poor fuck.” Another Viking says. “I’s not everyday a King loses a son.”

Definitely talking about him. Hvitserk’s hand still drapes over his pitcher of booze, ignoring the bread of sweet nut and fruit you attempt to lay by his head.

“Not everyday a man has a fucking kitten of Freyja in his bed either.”

Behind his arm, his eyes pop back open. The bags under his eyes puff, red eyes taking in your sight as you walk back to gingerly weave some sort of beautiful blanket. Your hips spill over the chair, long hair braided along the side and curling neatly in small little curls down to your drastically widened hips. The men chide too, clanking their cups together.

“Yeah ha.” A Viking rasps in rich little huffs. “She’s filled out real nice. Don’t think he’s been drinking her milk up either. Her breasts are looking big.”

His hand clenches tight.

“Forget the tits, that ass can barely sit on that stool. That’s the best part!”

Hvitserk watches as your head snaps in the direction of the Vikings, only to be caught by one abruptly standing by the scooting of the bench. In his view he can only see your hand coming to your breast, trying your best to ignore them but the words are just too much. Hvitserk’s fingers flicker.

“You know what I would do if she was my wife!” Says a strong voice. “Quit mopin’ like a boy, grow some balls, bend her over and fill her back up like a husband ought to. That’s what I’d do!”

The old man takes a step forward-- towards where you were clenching your tapestry beater tight in your fist. You slip off of your stool, standing and beckoning back wordlessly. The drunkard sloshes forward, as unsteady as the liquidous ale in his cup.

“Ain’t that right baby? Your husband is actin’ like a bitch. I bet if he just asked you would bend over nice and spread that fat ass out for him.”

“I…” You slide on the other side of the tapestry, fingers slipping away from the heavy frame to the space where Hvitserk kept the other weapons. Just as you grip your hand around a sword you are cut off.

The shrill yell from your husband’s lips cuts that sentence shut. If you had any articulated thoughts, you no longer do. He fists the handle of the axe, launching it from its place beside his head clearly across the room, embedding with a nasty crack and a wet spritz of blood all over the neat tapestry you work on.

You’re momentarily shocked in place, not forgetting that Hvitserk was there as he launches himself over the table, darting out toward the offending group of Vikings with the sword kept religiously at his hip. A group of unprepared older men leave no real challenge for Hvitserk, crunching his blade into the stomach of one after another, after another. Disgusting fleshy pops burst through the room as you watch behind a tapestry. Unable to look but in the same breath, unable to look away as the viscous blood coats the heavy tables.

When you finally do escape from behind the tapestry, it’s to a repetitive hack! Hack! Hack! Hvitserk bursts through the men’s throats, separating head from body in each person. Then abruptly he spins around, dropping his splattered sword with a clatter. You take a warring step back.

“Hvitserk I didn--” Before you can finish, his lips cup over your own with a bruising eagerness. Hvitserk thrusts his arm behind your shoulders, pulling you in tight. He tastes of irony blood, the sweat he shed in his assault and liquified lust that boils over. Hvitserk drops down, thrusting your skirts over your ass, then higher to strip you of the dress in front of the thralls that rush to clean up the bloody corpses.

“My husband--” You try to intervene on whatever thought that Hvitserk was having. A million like you maybe? What happened just now? With these foreign men so intent on claiming a piece of you that they would take their chances on talking to their Queen in such a way?

Hvitserk shoves you back onto a wooden table, cracking your head when you realize that Hvitserk’s normally playful eyes are limpidly dark, catching your wrists above your head. “They thought they would claim you.” He finally presses his fingers against your clit, fingers pressing down hard against your clit in an unprepared action that has your legs knocking tightly together. You squeal softly as he immediately begins to pleasure your body, smacking your moistening entrance with a blood hand.

Then Hvitserk loosens his pants, fisting his cock to press his tip against your hole. With a small barking shout, he presses in hard and deep. The pace is brutally quick, replacing his hand on your hips to drag you onto his cock like a doll. He uses you like one of his thralls, fucking himself deep with every thrust. You gasp under him for some air but none comes to you with him pounding you so richly that even the heavy table was quaking.

“Hvitserk, Hvitserk calm down.” You tug at his hands.

“They thought they would take you from me!” He shouts loud enough that the walls are nearly weeping out. You could have too, if not for your shock in his words. He had been gone. He can tell that’s what you were thinking.

You thought he no longer loved you.

@igetcarriedawaywithyou, @kylobien, @titty-teetee, @breathlessouls, @nejijjeoroo, @bcat1291, @readsalot73, @mslothbrok (no mix), @romanchronicles, @captstefanbrandt, @ailucascen, @michaeliskindahot, @concretewaywardangel, @naaladareia, @cbouvier23, @the-geeky-engineer, @dorned, @lisinfleur, @funmadnessandbadassvikings, @tephi101, @akamaiden, @Kirah34, @ethereallysimple, @venusloviing, @happylittlepuppydog, @beyond-the-ashes, @slutforrpg, @hipsternoionlylikeunicorns, @mixedwiththemoon, @sparklemichele, @alicedopey, @lif3snotouttogetyou, @rubyquartzshades, @noregretsandyeteveryregret, @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol, @deathbyarabbit, @unacceptabletatertots, @beyond-the-ashes (no sig), @babypink224221, @titty-teetee, @ivarandersen, @queen-see-ya-in-valhalla, @moose-squirrel-asstiel, @icarus-fell-in-spring, @piebytheocean, @strangunddurm, @atequila, @rekdreams247, @justacrush, @ivarswonderlust, @peachesnpisces, @elenawrit, @equalstrashflavoredtrash, @roxxck, @dylanowhyyien, @ilvebeenabad, @vikingsmania, @huntingbears, @My-Little-Wolfe, @seize-the-droid, @Certifiedpoison, @hotshotstar, @deans–chevy–baby, @moondustmemories, @colourmeinblue, @ilvebeenabad, @squirtleandeeveearethebest, @rubyquartzshades, @queenmissfit, @calaena-banrion, @hallowed-heathen, @Kirah34, @lulura, @looneytunes20033, @Imamom-makingadifference, @sunlightdaniel, @neeadinghugs, @Funmadnessbadassvikings, @mblaqgi, @Natmors, @triumphantreturnofpies, @dmv49, @imavulcanatheart, @attorneyl, @nina2697, @iconicvaleria, @lovelynerdytraveler, @tierneygonzalez, @zabee113, @meganjudee, @nininstinct, @sdcyumyum, @ms-allenbrown, @pancake-blonde, @ivarswickedqueen, @starkiddreamer, @Orange Darko @austenkingmylady, @thisisparadisemylove, @pinkrockstar19, @jeowjungkook, @threewintersoldiers

[lisinfleur]

"We are all going into darkness..."

Ok, but Hvitserk, you took it REALLY SERIOUS MAN!

[procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics]

I am the ghost of Hvitserk, and I have come to warn you. The end is near. The gods are angry, and they will punish us all for our sins. The world will be plunged into darkness, and only those who are pure of heart will survive. Prepare yourselves, for the end is coming.

hvitty you're back!!! i missed you sm and so did my bed... but i think i can't take you in, i saw @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie 's bio. how could you? after all these years. after a millenia of emptiness, and you betray me with someone else. i may not be pure of heart but neither are you </3

[naturally-recklessly-hvitserk]

Information

GENERAL

Full Name: Hvitserk Ragnarsson • Nickname: Hvitty, Hvit • Age: 28 • Birthday: 29th September • Orientation: Straight (but not averse to experimenting) • Status: Single • Religion: Pagan (Viking Verse) / Atheist (Modern Verse) • Nationality: Danish • Current Location: Verse dependent • Social Class: Royalty / Upper class • Spoken Languages: Danish and English • Occupation: Verse dependent

FAMILY

• Mother: Aslaug Sigurdsdottir • Father: Ragnar Lothbrok • Brother(s): Bjorn Ironside (half-brother, older), Ubbe (older), Sigurd Snake-in-the-eye (younger), Ivar the Boneless (younger) • Sister(s): Gyda (half sister, older, deceased) • Pet(s): None

PHYSICALLY

• Face Claim: Marco Ilsø • Hair Color: Dark blonde • Eye Color: Green with a hint of hazel • Height: 1.83 m (6 ft) • Tattoo(s): Nordic motifs on the left arm, from the shoulder to the elbow, extending to the left side of his chest

PERSONALITY

• Qualities: Loyal, caring, charming, cheerful, outgoing, laid-back, adventurous • Flaws: Indecisive, prone to substance abuse, hot-headed • Likes: Good food and drinks, a nice party, flirting around, training (sword-fighting in viking verse, gym in modern verse), fast cars (modern verse) • Dislikes: Not being taken seriously, feeling left out, hangovers

[mighty-ragnarssons]

Knocked Up | Modern Vikings AU | Chapter II

Relationships | Modern Ivar x OC Warnings | some smut, a little angst, violence, harassement, teenage pregnancy

Keep up with the previous chapter here [chapter 1]

First of all let me thank you for the amazing support. You guys are the best! I hope you enjoy this one as well :)

You can read in AO3 as well (click here).

Chapter 2

Days passed and still no text. Ivar was tempted to drive by the apartment he’d left them at, but that would be crazy, right?  He should’ve never told her to use his number in case of emergency. What if that was why she didn’t contact him? Instead he tried to let it go although it wasn’t easy. He’d go to class in university, he’d party with his brothers, he’d smoke some things to keep his mind away, but nothing really worked. Once he was obsessed with something, that was it. 

It didn’t help at all when Hvitserk came home one day saying he’d seen Ivar’s girl.  

“What do you mean?”

“That girl from the other night. The one you’re so hung up on. The pretty blonde” Ivar had to stop himself from growling. Why couldn’t his brother just tell him already? Hvitserk was clearly amused at the whole situation. “I left the gym and went to try that new coffee shop downtown, know which one? Well, she’s an attendant there. And you know what, she looks really cute in an apron” Hvisterk teased, seeing how Ivar’s teeth clenched slightly. “Cute and nice. She offered me a coffee and a muffin, saying it was to thank me for the help. Damn fine muffins. I might have to go there again for one of those sweet things.” 

While Hvitserk daydreamed of muffins, Ivar was thinking about having them as an excuse to pass by the coffee shop. He couldn’t stay away and this was the perfect excuse.

“Did she tell you to visit again?” Ivar asked, taken aback for a moment. His older brother, much like the others, was the town’s heart breakers. Hvitserk’s pretty looks and dazzling smile could get him anyone he wanted. Perhaps he’d already bewitched the girl. 

“I guess so. She works there, isn’t she supposed to say that? ‘Have a nice day. Come again!’ I’m pretty sure she says it to everyone. But if what you are asking me is that I got her number or anything, the answer is no. I actually asked her out again but she didn’t take me seriously” Pretending to be hurt, he put his hand over his heart. “Perhaps she is not into Ragnarssons. Interesting, uh? There’s always a first”

Stupid Hvits, Ivar wanted to say. How could his brother go after the girl he clearly had staked a claim on? 

“Did she tell you her name?” This little detail was something he couldn’t stop wondering about.

“Now that I think about it, no, I don’t think so. I was too distracted by her pretty smile to ask about that” Well, now Hvisterk was really just trying to mess with his brothers “Tell me, little brother, will you crawl into that coffee shop right now?” he joked “Take my advice: lose the puppy face before going.”

“So funny I forgot I to laugh”

Hvitserk was wrong. Ivar didn’t crawl to the coffee shop right away that day, although he wanted to. Instead, trying to be rational, he waited a couple of days and decided to drop by after his classes in university. He could always pretend he went there to study, although that was something he rarely did. He just really wanted to see the girl again. She hadn’t left his thoughts since that night.

However, to his dismay, she wasn’t there. There were only two attendants and none were his  nameless girl. His heart sunk a little,  but disappointment was something he was used to. It no longer left a bitter taste to this mouth. He stayed, nevertheless. After a couple of hours working in his computer in the company of a whipped cream coffee and one of the famous muffins - his brother was right, they were a delicacy, he was finally willing to admit defeat. It’s not like he could even ask about her, not really given how her name was something he didn’t know yet. so, the afternoon definitely didn’t go as he had expected. 

Frustrated, he put his computer back in the bag and left the payment on the table. With the help of his crutches, Ivar stood and was on the way out, almost making it past the door but stopped seconds before the door opened, almost hitting him.

He would’ve been mad, but it was her coming in. 

“It’s like we can’t stop meeting like this” he chuckled. 

The blonde girl looked surprised. “I’m sorry. It seems I have a bad habit of bumping into you” 

Because there were clients trying to go through said door as well, both Ivar and the girl stepped outside. 

“You’re leaving?”

“And you’re just getting here  now?”

“I guess your brother told you I worked here”

“Well, yes. But I was just passing by. My university is just a couple of blocks away. I’ve been meaning to try out this since it opened and I needed to study” 

He regretted saying this almost immediately. Would she get the idea that he  was not interested in seeing her again? 

“I only work here after classes” she informed, while  mindlessly flipping her hair away from the side of her face, tucking it behind her ear. Ivar didn’t miss a single movement of hers, wishing he’d been the one doing that for her. 

What the fuck, Ivar? Focus, he was trying to tell himself. 

“It was nice to see you, Ivar. I don’t think I thank you enough the other night. You really helped us out. Not many would have done that” She smiled a little “I gotta go in or else I’ll be late for my shift” She moved closer to the coffee shop’s door. 

He didn’t want to see her go, though “Maybe we can meet one of these days?”

Looking conflicted, she bit her lip “Perhaps we'd better not" she said “It’s like I told your brother… I have a lot going on, with school and work and.. well, I’m sure you’re busy too” 

Ivar was shocked. Was she really dismissing him that quickly? He wasn’t one to take ‘no’ for an answer. “There’s always time if the company is good”

“You’re Ivar Lothbrok. One of the Ragnarssons”

That settled it. The first time he heard her saying his name, it sounded so good. This time? She was not as impressed, it seemed.  

“And so what? What stories have you heard that led you to believe I won’t be any good company?” his voice was raised and succeeded in making her feel uncomfortable. 

She shot him an apologetic look. “It doesn’t matter, Ivar. I’m sorry, I really have to go inside. Please, do know that I’m grateful for your help and I wished things were different”

“You just don’t want to hang out with a Ragnarsson, I get it” his accusatory tone made her flinch. Although his expression was carefully controlled, she saw in his eyes that her rejection stung. “Before you go, allow me at least to say a proper goodbye. I don’t know your name yet”

For a moment he thought she wasn’t going to tell him anyways. All of this was going terribly. But then she surprised him “My name is Eva.  Eva Jørgensen”

Bitterly, and before walking away, he proceeded  “Then I guess this is goodbye,  Eva Jørgensen. Have a nice life.” 

“Goodbye, Ivar Lothbrok”

Her rejection stung far more than he wanted to admit. It felt worse than his previous rejections, not just because of the blow to his ego, but more because he cared a little for her, had since the night he helped her in the club, and somewhat he’d been expecting things to go differently. How stupid he was feeling. 

It didn’t take long for his ill temper to grow as he drove back home. Finding out that a party was taking place in the Lothbrok home didn't improve much of his mood, either. Moving through the crowd of people into the living room, he saw Sigurd playing DJ in a corner, looking high as fuck by the looks of his attempted dance moves. Not far from him was Hvitserk surrounded by a bunch of ladies. Ivar recognised many of the faces among the more than a hundred people. 

“Brother” Ubbe showed up behind him. He was still in his business attire, looking completely out of place from the rave “Sigurd claimed we need to make use of the house before our father comes back. Texted everyone we knew.” he explained, opening a beer can. Only then he noticed his little brother’s somber expression. “What’s eating you? You look like you could use a drink”

“I sure do. Actually… You wouldn’t happen to have any pills with you? In your personal stash”

“Ivar… I’m not sure that’s a good idea”

“C’mon, don’t be a killjoy” 

“Is it for the pain?” Ubbe asked, but reckoning it wouldn’t be. Ivar’s eyes were not the strongest shade of blue like they used to be when he’s suffering more than usual. 

“Ubbe, will you fucking give me some or not?” he snarled.

“Look, I don’t have any at the moment. Maybe Hvitty does, but he looks like he’s already under the influence of them. Why don’t you just come out to the terrace, drink something and chill? I’m sure your shitty day will get better if you stop being so grumpy” 

“Spare me the bullshit. I’m out of here” 

Holding tight to his crutches, Ivar went to his room. It was the only room on the ground floor so the blasting music could still be heard from it. In need of releasing some steam, he took the matters to the gym they had on the basement floor, also known as the man cave. Getting one beer from the bar they kept down there, he decided to throw punches on the boxing bag, which he could only do from a seating position. When beers were no longer satisfying him, he took it to the bottle of vodka. Ivar just wanted to have his mind distracted from the beautiful Eva.

At some point, when his sight was already blurry and he had collapsed on a red couch, he thought he was imagining things for he’d swear there was a girl who was making her way to him. He tried to blink but his vision wouldn't get any better (no doubt too much alcohol and physical pain had taken over him). The world slightly dark around him, Ivar felt a set of hands pulling his t-shirt, then pressing onto his sweaty torso first, then down towards his pants.  The next thing he feels is his lower lip being bitten. At the metallic taste of blood, he regained consciousness just a bit, but enough to discern the blonde girl who now had her hand inside his pants. 

“Margrethe, don’t fucking play games with me” he said dangerously. 

Margrethe only continued to look mockingly into his blue eyes. “So vulnerable and at my mercy, Ivar. Still, you don’t get it up, do you? Why do I even bother?” A mean laugh rose from her throat “Ubbe said you need some cheering. I guess I felt sorry for the poor little Boneless”

Something snapped in him.  His ungovernable temper got the best of him. With the accumulated irritation of the day upon him, he suddenly grabbed her arm and forced it off of him. Muttering between his teeth, he warned “We 'll see about who’s at mercy here”. He could be a crippled, but he was not weak by any means. His hand was not on her neck so hard that Margrethe fell back against the couch, and stayed there with her hands spread out against him, trying to get off his grip. 

“IVAR! What the fuck are you doing?” 

Suddenly Hvitserk was pulling him away, making Ivar collapse on the floor. Margrethe jumped to the blonde brother’s arms in no time. 

"He's crazy. He’s absolutely mad!”  She whined, burying her face in Hvitserk’s chest. “Take me out of here” 

To complete the party, the rest of the brothers showed up as well, all of them taking Hvitserk’s side and looking down on their cripledl brother. Their looks were one that Ivar had spent his whole life loathing: one of pity and superiority. 

“You’re drunk, man. Crawl back to your room, cripple” 

It was Sigurd speaking, of course. Margrethe was his favorite. Ubbe simply shot him a disappointed stare before the four of them returned to the party.  

Ivar stood on the floor laughing hysterically until he realized what he had done. It didn’t matter that Margrethe was not a saint. She loved to miserly tease him just so she could humiliate him next. It still didn’t give him the right to go against a woman, though.  Shame poured over him.

Alone on the cold floor of the basement, a single tear ran down his cheek. What a fucking miserable day.

The following days were no better. His brothers were giving him a silent treatment since the party. Sigurd could barely look at him without snorting. And without his brothers Ivar really didn’t have anyone close, not really caring for his colleagues at university. 

There was one person. Floki, the oldest friend of his father Ragnar and Ivar’s mentor. 

Ivar dropped by the bay where Floki had his workshop, where he worked on the sailing boats that had coined him the best boat builder in all of Norway. He now ran a successful company called North Sails. Usually Ivar would go spend his afternoons there and would even help a bit, but his mind wasn’t in the right place at the time and Floki kindly dismissed him after Ivar almost ruined a custom-made pine wood deck by spraying the wrong product. 

For the most part of the week he had been lonely, which wasn’t something new, but it still bothered him. To pass the time, he worked out more and even went to all his classes and not skip some as usual, but none of that really helped. So that late October afternoon he had resigned to spend it indoors, playing playstation, which was something he usually delighted in beating his brother at, but not this time as he was by himself.

Until his phone beeped. At first, Ivar didn’t pay much attention, but then another text message flashed his screen and a word caught his eyes. Eva. 

He immediately grabbed the phone, sliding into the messages from the unknown number which read: 

‘Sorry to bother, but I don’t know who else to ask for help. Can you come to the coffee shop? Asap’

‘It’s Eva’

Less than fifteen minutes and many crossed red lights later, Ivar parked his SUV right in front of the coffee shop, not minding it was a forbidden parking area. Although it was past the normal closing time, the lights were on, yet the door was closed. On a normal week night, the street wasn’t as busy as during the day, and but a couple of guys in a corner, it was all empty. 

Ivar first tried to look inside, then knocked. He was worried, wondering what help Eva needed. Was she in trouble? Was she hurt? Ivar surprised himself by figuring out that all the grudge he was holding against her was gone, completely replaced with worry.

He let out a  sigh of relief when she came up from behind the counter and came to open the door, allowing him inside. The look of relief in her face did not escape him. “Thank you for coming, especially after the last time we..uh...met”

“What’s going on? What’s the matter?”

“This might be silly, and I’m sorry for making you come all the way here, you did tell me to contact in case of an emergency and this might not be one and I’m sorry  -” 

He cut off her nervous rambling “Eva, just tell me” 

“My stupid boss went to watch a football game and left me the keys to close up the space, even if it was not on my schedule. Some guys dropped by. It was really difficult to get them to pay and leave. But they're not gone. When I tried to step outside and wait at the bus stop, they started coming my way and calling out. I rushed back here and locked myself. I was so nervous I texted you. I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking”

“Don’t apologize.” His jaw clenched. His face hardened, and he started to rise with a hint of violence “Stay here” He commanded before turning his back on her and walking out of the coffee shop.

“Ivar, what are you going to do!”

“Damn, Eva, stay inside”

But she wouldn’t and followed him into the alley. Ivar actually recognised the four guys propped against the wall, acting all tough. The Ragarnasson stood his ground, not feeling nor looking the least intimidated for being outnumbered. 

“Nothing to do tonight, boys? You can always go home and catch up with the last episode of Keeping Up With The Kardashians instead of creeping out here” he gritted through his teeth.

“Who do you think you are?” one of them stood to face Ivar. 

“Oh, the brave one of the group, no? Get your asses out of here before I make you regret coming” Ivar warned seriously. 

“You think I’m afraid of you, cripple?”

Don’t say I didn’t tell you so, Ivar thought before head-butting the guy in the nose. The scumbag immediately fell to the ground, dazed. Ivar stomped his crutch over his chest.

“If you ever come near her or the coffee shop again, I'm going to break the rest of your face. And after I do that, I promise I'll break every bone in your body, one by one. Trust me, I know how much it hurts to have your bones broken. You don’t want that happening” He lifted his foot a fraction and the guy whimpered “You know who I am. I am Ivar Lothbrok. I might break a bone, but I can never break a promise. Do you follow me?” 

After Ivar let him, the guy rolled over. He seemed scared enough, his hands covering the bloody nose. The guys were looking at Ivar like he was mad and that scared them enough to leave as soon as they helped their friend get up. 

When they were finally alone, Ivar turned back to face Eva, thinking he probably scared her off as well. Yet there she was and the next second he knew, Eva launched herself at him, giving him an unexpected firm hug. He definitely hadn't seen that coming. 

“Thank you” As she stepped back, she looked a little embarrassed as if realising a boundary had been crossed “I’m sorry.”

“You apologize a lot” She blushed. “I’m glad you texted me”

“I didn't know who else to text… I don’t know many people in this city yet.”

“Do these guys hang around here much?”

“Sometimes” she bit her lip nervously. “Tonight was the first time they tried  to come for me. I usually don’t do night shifts alone” 

For a moment he wondered what could’ve happened. Anger build up within him, making him wish he’d beat the crap out of those stupid guys. 

“I don’t think they’ll try again. If they do, they’ll have to do deal with me”

“Again,  I really do not know how to thank you enough, Ivar”

“It was no trouble” he replied, with a smile that made him look more handsome than ever, or so she thought. 

“It was trouble. Are you hurt?” Again, without thinking, she came closer to him inspecting concernedly “Are you hurt? You head butted that guy strong” 

“I’m fine, don’t worry”

“Well, I am worried. Let me at least give you some ice”

He followed her inside and sat waiting for her to return with a bag of ice. The inside of the coffee shop was welcomingly warm in sharp contrast to how cold he didn’t realize was outside. “Lean back” she instructed and he followed suit, putting his head back. Eva had to stand so close to him that her body touched his as she placed the ice bag gently on the swelling of his chin. She bent over him, her lips puckered in serious concentration as she tried not to hurt him. Other than his mother, no one had ever been so gentle with him before. Gradually as he takes in her closeness, he smells her perfume, surprised that it is  something spicy, sweet and lovely altogether. 

“I’m sorry you got hurt. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen” 

“This is nothing. I grew up the youngest of many brothers. Can you imagine how many times we wrestled while growing up?” 

She smiled, causing him to do so as well. After how he treated her the last time they met, he thought she wouldn’t feel comfortable with him again, but it didn’t feel that way. He felt...at ease with her. Just like he did when they had first met. 

Eventually, as Eva released the ice bag, their distance grew a bit. Ivar had to keep himself from growling in disappointment. 

“Oh shit!” she exclaimed after looking at the time and jumping to grab her things “The last bus just went by. Fuck!” 

“Let me drive you home. There’s no way I was going to let you wait for another bus anyways”

“I don’t want to cause you trouble anymore. You already had quite a share”

“Don’t be silly. I won’t take no for an answer”

Driving her home took longer than he imagined. She lived almost out of town, which made him figure it would be around forty minutes by bus. Driving took a little less time. Time which they did mostly in silence, although it looked as both wanted to start a conversation without really knowing how. 

“You can drop me off here”

“Are you sure?”  There didn't seem to be many houses there, mostly warehouses and shops. 

“Yes, I live nearby.”

“I can drop you off at your doorstep”  She seemed troubled which made him guess “You don’t want to be seen with me”

“It’s complicated, Ivar”

“You said that last time” he snorted, disappointed once again.

“You’re right. I did.”

“You have a look on your face that tells me you’re about to say sorry again”

“Well, I was. I am.” How had he read her so easily? “I wish I could explain it better. I can get in trouble if my family realizes something happened and that I took your ride. That is all. Ivar, I really owe you thanks for your help” her hand reached his instinctively. Eva looked up at him with a thankful gaze before getting out of the car. 

He watched as she disappeared in the distance and drove off afterwards, not knowing how to feel about all of this. He had wanted to talk to her, learn more about her, ask her what was going on and on what terms they were on. He wanted to ask her if she’d text him again. 

He wanted to tell her he wanted her to.

To his amazement, she did. Text him, that is. He was already in bed when his phone bipped. 

‘I really thank you, especially for helping me out twice already. I promise trouble doesn’t usually follow me so often… I also want to apologize for the way I approached you at the beginning. I'm sorry about that. Let me know how I can make it up to you. Good dreams, Ivar.’

That night he fell asleep with a smile on his face.

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