Summary: Hvitserk has always seen the reader as a warrior, but sometimes he forgets that she’s a woman too.
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You weren’t surprised to come upon both Ivar and Hvitserk sitting together, talking between themselves.
They did it often, more so now than ever.
What did surprise you though was when you heard Hvitserk mention how saddened he was that he’d yet to have children.
Of all the things he could have been thinking about in the eve of a great battle, you wouldn’t have guessed it was that but still, you didn’t question it.
In a lot of ways, you could understand where he was coming from.
So, after Ivar moved from his place, you took it over, the same topic of conversation now flooding your mind.
“I think I would like to have them too” you shrugged, allowing yourself to have a seat where his brother had just been, not bothering to rehash the conversation you’d overheard between the two men.
Everyone thought about having children.
It was just how you’d been raised, and how the Gods intended it to be.
It was how your society progressed and how your family's lines kept going. You would have been a fool to pretend that wasn’t the natural order of things, and that it wasn’t what you wanted.
Every woman wanted children.
Your mother had had them, and so had her mother, for as far back as your family had been and of all things, the last you wanted was to put an end to that cycle.
Still, it would have been a lie to say that your admission didn’t shock Hvitserk, at least a little.
In all the time that you’d known one another, he’d never thought about you wanting to have children, or even caring about something like that. Though, clearly, he’d been wrong.
“You’ll catch flies like that” you scoffed, gesturing to your friend's mouth, hanging slightly agape as he considered what you were telling him.
It was odd.
Not that he meant for his reaction to be offensive to you in any way. He just didn't have much control over what his face did when you said things like that.
“Sorry” he shrugged, the word leaving his lips quickly, like he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t have been, and in a way, he had.
It was unavoidable.
“Do you really want to have them?” he repeated your words back to you, almost in awe of the answer he knew was coming before it could.
It just didn’t make sense.
If you wanted children all this time, why wouldn’t you have said something before now? Why wouldn’t you have settled down and done it by now?
Most women your age had already married and had a few children by this point, and there was nothing stopping you from doing the same if it was what you really wanted.
“Is that so hard to believe?” you countered, not connecting the dots as to why this was so hard for him to understand.
As he knew well, it was just a part of your lives.
People had children and there was no reason you would be any different.
“I guess not. I just never thought about you as a mother” Hvitserk decided, trying not to offend you with every word he spoke.
You certainly could have been, and anyone would be lucky to have you as a wife, it just didn’t seem like what you wanted before today.
You had always been a great warrior.
You had a warrior’s spirit, and more heart than anyone Hvitserk had ever met.
That skill was something that had defined you as you grew older, and by this point, it seemed as though it was what you were meant to do with your life.
It didn’t surprise him to learn that you were quite skilled on the battlefield, when he finally found himself there, by your side all those years ago.
What did surprise him was the number of times you managed to catch him off guard.
This moment included.
Your desire to start a family genuinely wasn’t something he’d seen coming.
“And you see yourself as a father?” you teased, kicking your foot out just enough to bump his boot with your own, finding the whole thing quite humorous.
Your mother had always said you had the body of a mother, and a wife more than a warrior, but the truth was, neither you nor Hvitserk had ever perfectly fit either mold.
You simply moved in the direction the God’s pointed you without a second thought.
It had always worked for you before.
“Perhaps. There are quite a few things I could teach a child, wouldn't you agree?” Hvitserk doubled down, surely signing himself up for even more ridicule from you but doing it anyway.
If anything, he’d earned some of your good spirited torment.
“Of course, someone has to teach them how to eat half a bore in one sitting” you laughed, recalling just how sick he’d made himself on that evening, doing so out of spite and gluttony alone.
Hvitserk couldn’t help but laugh as well, considering the point you made happily.
You had a point.
As far as teaching impressionable children about life skills and survival, neither of you would thrive.
However, that didn’t mean the male in front of you had any doubts about how good of parents you’d be, regardless.
Your heart was made of gold, a gift from the Gods to Kattegat, and there was no possible way you couldn’t pass that on to whatever offspring you may have.
“It is a gift” he chuckled, feigning humility, unable to avoid the obvious truth to your statement. You could both teach children quite a few things, even more if you were together than apart.
It wasn’t until he realized that that he had an idea.
“We could have some” Hvitserk hummed, his words coming out of nowhere, so impulsive and ridiculous that you weren't even sure you’d heard them in the first place.
Surely he didn’t mean that.
He couldn't have meant that.
“I’m sure there is a much more fitting bride in store for you, Hvitserk” you allowed, waving off his comment as an ill received joke. It wasn’t the first he’d told, and it surely wouldn't be the last either.
It was true.
You were sure of it.
There was a beautiful woman out there somewhere, waiting to marry the esteemed Son of Ragnar and bear him as many children as he’d like.
There was no reason for him to fret about it now.
You certainly couldn’t imagine this day to be his last, battle or not, and after this, he had more reason than ever to start the family he so desperately wanted.
“I’m serious. Why shouldn’t we have a few little babes of our own, you and me?” he continued, shocking you with his commitment to the subject.
Most of the time, Hvitserk would have chuckled a bit and moved on to something else entirely but not this time.
For some reason, in the time since you’d sat down, he’d gotten it in his head that the two of you could have children with one another.
Out of nowhere.
“Because Hvitserk, we aren’t married and even if we were, who would raise them? You and I hardly have the time now” you asked, gesturing around you.
A hundred feet to your left, there was a man getting his arm crudely removed with an ax, and to your right was a pit of bodies, scattered about.
It was hardly the place for a child.
Let alone ‘a few’ children.
“We could get married. My feelings for you have never been a secret, and we deserve a family just as much as anyone else, perhaps even more” he kept going, his determination filling you with a familiar pride.
He had always been so passionate about the things he cared about, and you loved that about him.
Above everything else, you had never questioned his heart and whether it was in the right place or not.
Hvitserk was a good person, and the Gods had given you a gift when they brought him into your life.
“You really want to do that? To marry me? To have children together?” you recounted, a small smile blooming on your face as you took your turn considering what it would be like.
As you thought about what kind of father Hvitserk would be, and how you could take a break from all the fighting to raise children of your very own, warriors like their parents.
It was a welcome sight, you had to admit that.
He was right, about all of it.
Hvitserk had always cared very deeply for you, and never tried to keep that a secret. This wasn’t even the first time he’d proposed to you in all the years that you’d known one another, but it was the most serious.
In fact, this was the most serious you’d ever seen him in his life.
The man in front of you took a moment to answer, looking between you and his clasped hands before letting out a sigh of decision.
Of course he wanted that. By this point, he was convinced it was the only thing he wanted, above everything else.
“More than anything”
Again, that finality found its way into his voice, bringing you a peace you never thought possible without even meaning too.
All your life, Hvitserk had been the last one to take himself too seriously, to act as the most mature, prepared between the two of you but now, it was he who was trying to get you to settle down.
It almost felt as if the Gods were teasing you.
Not that you minded.
If Loki himself thought this a proper jest, you would have to thank him every day of the rest of your life.
“Alright, Hvitserk, but you must promise me one thing” you began, setting your sword down completely on the grass, and offering a hand to him which he took without hesitation, bringing him that much closer to you.
Almost too naturally, the male found himself kneeling in front of your seated frame, his hands clasping your own, resting in your lap.
In this moment, you could have asked anything of him and he would have done it happily.
Though, that wasn’t all that different from every other moment you two had shared together. Hvitserk was almost always prepared to pluck the sun from the sky if you asked.
Where you were concerned, he’d always find a way, so whatever it was you wanted from him now, it was yours.
No matter what it was.
“Promise me you aren’t doing this because we may die tomorrow” you prompted, freeing one of your hands to gingerly brush your thumb mindlessly over the bone as you looked into his eyes.
You knew he must have been feeling the pressure this war had brought on, just as you were, but that didn’t mean you wanted to make empty promises to one another.
Love was the most powerful thing in the world but it was also the most dangerous if wrongly placed.
You didn’t want him to promise his heart to you again if he didn’t intend to give it to you fully.
“When have I ever made such rash decisions?” Hvitserk teased this time, finding the fact that you two were having this conversation at all too good to be true.
He never would have thought he’d be here, in the middle of a warzone with the woman of his dreams, discussing children and weddings on the night before he could meet his gruesome end.
Thankfully, if there was one thing Hvitserk was especially good at, it was dealing with things as they arose, rather than having a plan ahead of time.
It was one of the reasons you two worked out so well as a team.
“I’m serious, Hvitserk '' you tutted back, your gentle stroking of his jaw coming to an abrupt stop as you urged the man in front of you to be serious for once, like he’d been before this moment.
You needed to know this was really what he wanted, every day, not just on days when you may get yourselves killed.
“Alright, alright. I promise” he hummed, the biggest grin you’d ever seen evident on his face when he finally realized just what you two had agreed to.
❛ pairing | hvitserk x reader, hvitserk/ivar [platonic brother spats]
❛ type | drabble
❛ summary | you know hvitserk gets around-- even without ubbe.
❛ tags | verbal arguments, hvitserk has a crush, ivar is an ass.
❛ sy’s notes | hi. i’m still around; just kind of... tired. i’ll write some snippets, i think.
Hvitserk isn’t exactly the smartest of the Ragnarssons.
You wove a band of leather into your hair as you listened, carefully, and quietly to the brothers at their table. “What kind of poetry is that,” Ivar chided to his brother, tracing the lines of Hvitserk’s drawing tablet. “She won’t want to hear this. Tell her she has pretty eyes.”
“Everyone must tell her that.”
“Who is everyone?” Ivar mocked. “She has no suitors this summer. I paid them off just for you, br--”
You glanced up from your work, catching eyes with Ivar’s bobbing head.
“Shht!” Hvitserk thumped his fist on the table. “Why don’t you shut up?”
“Is she stupid? I’m sure she knows, Hvitserk.”
It’s not as if you didn’t know Hvitserk’s secret. He tries to be quiet; but Ivar? Ivar brings out the wildness in him unlike Ubbe ever had. You pressed down a smile, catch him eye to eye, and continued to weave the band into your hair. He swallowed in response and took the tablet from his brother, fingers twiddling him off.
“You’re no use.”
“Suit yourself. Write your bad poetry and use your hand tonight.”
He scratched sternly at the wax. Bit, by bit, til he made a noise. Rumpled, like he’d had enough of the tablet in his hand and the soft chiding from his brother’s laughter. You paused, drawing the cow hide around the tail end of your hair when you saw the sway of the metal on his belt buckle shimmering before you. In his hand was the tablet, messy and unique. The long scribbles dragged the strokes farther than you ever had seen.
“Hvitserk,” you set your hands on your knees and waited. It wouldn’t be long, anyway. “What is it?”
He bowed his head, bringing the tablet up to the other hand. He fisted it like an old towel, fighting for the right words that were caught up in his throat. “I… well. Theres this tablet.”
“I see it,” you smiled. “Is it--”
“For you,” he cut you off, feeling a rushed sense of confidence. Despite the tremor in his hand, swaying as he extended it out to you, as if it were a leaf swaying in the chilly autumn wind. “I wrote it for you.”
“Oh?”
It’s not as if you hadn’t been sitting there. First, with your brother-- then alone, hiding indoors while the men pulled the hard labour outdoors. He was out to oversee the wall of Kattegat while Ivar recovered from a strained break. From the looks of things, his smile behind Hvitserk’s shoulder that was, he was doing just fine.
“It’s not--” he mumbles as he looks around for your brother. Probably praying he didn’t rush in, shank him with his seax. “...good. I just...”
He’s no wordsmith. You flipped the tablet around, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, and read. And he was right-- it was particularly awful. But, to be fair, you heard Ragnar’s was once too. It must be inherited. He drew a chair, cut with ravens, and sat across from you with his head bowed. His hand cradled his knee as he chewed the skin off his bloody lip. “...wanted to write you something.”
You glanced up from the tablet.
“It’s terribly perfect.”
He lifts his head.
“Perfect?” he mimics. “But I-- I can’t write.”
“I know, Hvitserk. That is why I said terrible. Every woman you’ve met knows you can’t write poetry. You’re a fighter, just like Ragnar.”
He laughs, warm like honey sliding down your throat, and you smile back. You’re just another in a long line of Hvitserk Ragnarsson’s momentary fixations; you would be stupid to think it was anything but that.
“Come on. I’ve not talked to that many women! Will you come with me? There is a stream short of my cabin. Let me catch you something special to eat.”
He’s a bad liar, but a cute face.
“It’s going to take a lot more than that, Hvitserk.”
And somewhere, behind him, you hear Ivar scoff. A mean little ‘I told you so’, bouncing off his lips. Hvitserk turns as you use his shoulders to push yourself up, throwing your braid over your shoulder. Hvitserk’s voice churns, thick with annoyance-- it’s almost cute. Almost.
“Shut up Ivar.”
@laketaj24 @alicedopey @lisinfleur @flowers-in-your-hayr @punkrocknpearls ah... i’m struggling with motivation for tags, please forgive me. let me clean up my list and i’ll tag again.
summary: your husband wants christmas cookies, but something gets in the way...
a/n: i'll be posting a couple christmas fics this month so if you have some requests, send them my way! also, my vikings masterlist is here.
gif credit: @honestsycrets
You sipped on the piping hot chocolate, going over the small list you held in your hand. Your grocery trip was supposed to be just an in and out type of thing, but you decided to bring your husband along.
Hvitserk loved food shopping almost as much as he loved you. Almost. You were still determined to keep that #1 place in his heart which is why you agreed to go out into the snow to buy baking ingredients.
The two of you decided on having a date night at home and Hvitserk was adamant about baking gingerbread cookies. One look at his puppy dog eyes and you were a goner. You wished you had more self control because now you were alone in the store as he had wandered off some minutes ago.
Sighing, you pushed the little cart along the aisle, looking for the specific bottle of vanilla you needed. Just your luck, it was on the very top shelf. You grumbled some swear words as you placed your hot chocolate in the little cup holder and struggled to reach the bottle. Your fingers grazed the small glass as your husband spoke.
“I’m loving the view, babe.” You could practically hear the smirk he wore.
“I’m sure you-” You cut yourself as you watched him gulp down your drink. “Hvitty! That’s my hot chocolate!” You whined as you slapped his arm.
He sheepishly smiled and wrapped his arms around your waist. “I promise i’ll buy you another on our way out.”
“You sure as hell are.” You playfully glared at him and began pushing the cart to the self checkout area. Hvitserk took care of everything as you made your way outside, not joking about him buying you another drink.
The ride home was pleasant enough as you listened to your husband horribly sing christmas songs. You were so glad he never took up a singing career like his brother. You two quickly got the groceries into the apartment, wanting desperately to get out of the cold.
After a quick dinner of pizza and beer, you started on the cookies. You’d previously looked up a recipe online that seemed simple enough. Hvitserk wasn’t much help during the baking process as he opted to eat the raw batter and decorative icing straight out of the bag. The amount of times you whacked him with the wooden spoon was ridiculous.
“15 minutes and they should be done.” You sighed as you plopped yourself onto the couch next to him. His arm immediately wrapped around you, placing a kiss on your forehead.
“I’m so excited.” He mumbled, eyes trained on the television in front of him.
You rolled your eyes at him. Of course he’d be wanting dessert right after eating dinner. You took the quiet moment you had to admire your husband. He was so handsome and you were so in love with everything about him. You’d been married going on two years and the butterflies he gave you on the first date still remained. You were incredibly lucky to have him in your life, he loved you more than anything and catered to all your needs. Speaking of needs, you thought.
“Hey baby?” You whispered as you moved yourself to sit right on his lap, his hands immediately going to your hips.
He hummed, raising his eyebrows at you.
“I miss you,” You ghosted your lips over his just teasing him for a few as your hands played with his braids.
Hvitserk let out a chuckle, “We’re together everyday, my love.” His hands were running up and down your back, you were severely missing his touch.
“No no, I miss you.” Your hips began grinding against his, hoping he’d get the hint at what you wanted. The lightbulb went off in his head in an instant, a small ‘oh’ falling from his mouth.
Your lips crashed against his, his hand coming to hold your head in place as your tongues fought. Hvitserk gripped your hip tightly, helping you move them along his. He reached the hem of your shirt, pulling it up and helping you rip it off. His lips trailed down your neck, leaving little bites and sucking along the way. You threw your head back in ecstasy, finally getting the attention you needed.
Being so lost in each other, you barely had time to register the repeated beep of the fire alarm going off in the kitchen. You scrambled off your husband, both of you making a beeline to the stove that had smoke pouring out of it. Hvitserk cursed as he opened it as hastily pulled out the try and dumped it on the counter. You opened up the small window to air out the room before turning to your husband who had a giant frown on his face.
“You burnt the cookies.” His pout was adorable, but you couldn’t help but laugh as you walked up to him. Wrapping your arms around his waist, you left little pecks along his face.
“I’m so sorry honey.” You mumbled against his lips.
A look of realization crossed his face as he grinned, “You know what? I think i’m actually craving something else.”
You were about to question him when he scooped you up in his arms and headed towards the bedroom.
“Hvitserk!” You giggled at his change of mood.
You we’re really in for it tonight. One, for burning his cookies and two, cause he was really craving you now.
Author’s note: I’ve had this in my drafts for so long. I’ve edited the ending like a million times. It’s my first Hvitserk story, I hope you guys enjoy ! Also I really need to start posting at a decent time. Someone yell at me please.
Summary: Caring doesn’t always mean sharing.
Masterlist
Small kisses peppered Y/N’s face as she lay asleep. Her nose scrunched up like a rabbit’s and all she could hear was the low echo of laughter, laughter that she recognized all too well. Her eyes shot open and there she saw him, her Hvitserk. She jumped up and threw her arms around his neck “YOU’RE BACK !” She called out. Her lips landing harshly on his.
“You weren’t at the docks” he mumbled into her mouth. His smile never once faltering. Hvitserk had been on a raid with his brothers and their arrival had been delayed. His eyes shone bright as he stared at Y/N’s messy hair and bunched up dress.
She pulled back, sitting on her knees as she smoothed out her dress, staring at him. “I must have fallen asleep,” she mumbled with a frown. She suddenly shot up and ran across her room “I was tired from making these !” She yelled as she bent over, looking through woven baskets. She pulled out a small container and jumped back on her bed beside Hvitserk, who was simply staring at her in awe. His eyes filled with curiosity and his lips curled up into an amused smirk. “Well,” she insisted as she shoved the now open container in his direction. Hvitserk seemed star struck, in awe of his kind-of-girlfriend’s beauty. She saw his hesitation and rolled her eyes as she grabbed one of the treats from the container and shoved it in his mouth. Hvitserk chewed, wary at first and then he leaned over and grabbed another, then another. Y/N’s giggles filled the house as she saw him enjoy the treats. “You’re going to give yourself a stomach ache my prince” shoving the container aside, she shook her head in mock disapproval.
Hvitserk chuckled and leaned forward, gently moving a strand of hair behind her ear as he whispered “I can never eat enough of your sweet treats,” in a low rumble. Her cheeks immediately went pink and she hit his shoulder as he collapsed back on her bed with laughter. This is how they were comfortable. They played and flirted and slept together, but Hvitserk had never officially made her his and Y/N was too scared to push him. She knew he sometimes shared his brother's wife, and it made her blood boil. But she put up with it because at the end of the night he always came to her. Margrethe was not the nicest person. She didn’t mind being shared but she did not like sharing. In her mind Hvitserk was hers just as much as Ubbe was. She made it known to Y/N that she did not like her. Around the boys however, she was as sweet as the treats Y/N baked.
He stared at the ceiling, enjoying the warmth of her laughter and the sweet smell of her home. He felt her curl beside him, she said something and Hvitserk was pulled out of his thoughts when she called his name “Huh?” He turned to look at her.
She rolled her eyes and smiled, “I said. Do you think Ubbe would like some?”
A sliver of anger ran through his veins as he heard his brothers name come out of her lips. “Some?” He grunted as he looked back up at her ceiling.
He felt her warm breath on his neck as she slowly moved her lips up to his ear. Oh how she had missed him. “Some of my sweet treats” her tone was playful. She knew that her words could be misinterpreted, but she would never betray Hvitserk like that. She loved him and only him. That didn’t mean she didn’t like when he got possessive over her.
“I’m sure he’d loved to try your sweets” his body quickly moving to pin hers down. His hands holding her wrists above her and his lips glued on her neck “too bad they’re only for me to have” a low growl escaped his lips, now on her jaw. She moved her head to the side and found his lips with hers. She could feel his anger melt away with every nibble of his bottom lip and every smack of their mouths.
“Tell me of your raid” pulling back from him, she looked into his eyes with wonder. She had never been much of a warrior. When she started fooling around with Hvitserk, he tried to show her some defensive moves, as a way of holding her close to him and pinning her on the floor, but she didn’t mind. Even Ivar had tried, but she was a hopeless klutz.
Hvitserk collapsed on his back and pulled her to his chest, wrapping an arm around her, holding her as close to his body as he could. Gods he had missed this. His hand lazily played with her hair as he talked of the new people they had met, the jewels they had brought home, the storm they had been caught in. He felt her breath even and saw that her eyes were closed. He smiled down at her “I love you” he whispered to himself. Why couldn’t he just tell her? What if she rejected him? This arrangement between them was after all just fun.
He heard her door open and looked up, stiffening. It was Ubbe, fresh marks on his neck, no doubt he and Margrethe had made up for all their time apart. “Did you talk to her?” His voice was low as to not wake you.
Ubbe stepped closer and ran his hand gently over her curves. Hvitserk’s jaw clenched as he responded “not yet.”
Ubbe nodded and brought his hand to his belt “I’ll be waiting for her when she—“ their conversation was cut short when Y/N began stirring in her sleep. Frozen in place, all they did was stare at her. Stretching her limbs and letting out a soft yawn her eyes opened and she blinked a couple times, trying to make out whose figure was causing the shadow hovering over her and Hvitserk. When she realized it was Ubbe she smiled. Hvitserk made a fist with his hand, attempting to control his anger as she jumped off of him and up to hug Ubbe, like she had with Hvitserk when she first saw him.
“Ubbe you’re safe!” She grinned into the hug, squeezing tightly. Ubbe let his hands wrap around her frame and squeezed her even tighter.
“Did you expect anything less?” With a soft chuckle he felt her pull away. She shook her head and reached over Hvitserk’s body to grab the container that had been forgotten. Ubbe’s eyes glued to her bent figure. Hvitserk had to control himself as to not yell at Ubbe to keep it in his pants.
She turned back, open container in hand with a huge smile on her face “Please. Try one” she insisted. “I made it with the fruits of the seeds you brought me after your last raid” her voice was soft.
“So you like my seed?” Ubbe joked as he popped one of the treats in his mouth. How is it possible that both sons of Ragnar could make her cheeks turn this pink? That’s when Hvitserk sat up, clearing his throat as if to remind them that he was still there. Mouth still half full Ubbe continued “it’s delicious. Like everything you make” his hand reached up to stroke her cheek. She leaned into the warm touch, not thinking anything of it.
“So how has Margrethe been?” Hvitserk interrupted the warm exchange between his lover and his brother.
Ubbe’s smile turns into a frown, dropping his hand from her face he shrugs. “She missed you brother.” He laughs, “perhaps it’s your turn to go see her. And I’ll keep our dear Y/N here company”
Y/N was mesmerized by his light eyes and the implication of his words. Surely Hvitserk wouldn’t allow Ubbe to touch her the way he did. She felt the bed behind her shift as Hvitserk got up “Only if Y/N is okay with it” he grumbled under his breath, hand on the door “She is after all a free woman.”
Ubbe leaned in, his lips an inch from hers “I’m sure she’s okay with it” he leaned closer and closer with every word until he could feel her warm lips on his. His hand slipped around her hips and pulled her closer. She didn’t know what was happening. She was shocked and confused. She didn’t exactly encourage him to continue, but she also didn’t stop him. She supposed this was all she was to Hvitserk, a warm hole to bury himself in and share with his brothers.
The next thing she knew, she felt Ubbe’s lips rip away from her harshly and abruptly. She opened her eyes to see why he had pulled away, only to see Hvitserk standing in front of her, with his back to her, hands in fists, shaking. “Get off her!” he shouted at his brother who stared at him in confusion
“You said you were fine with sharing her” Ubbe replied shoving his brother back.
“Well that was before,” Hvitserk looked back at Y/N with sorrowful eyes.
“Before what?” She mumbled moving forward, staring at him like he had suddenly grown two more heads.
“Before I realized I wanted to marry you” Silence. That’s all there was for seconds, minutes, hours? Who knew anymore. It was too long.
Ubbe was the first to speak “You have been with my wife” Hvitserk turned to look back at his brother, hanging his head in shame.
“I know brother. But please understand, I cannot stand the thought of anyone touching my Y/N” Ubbe nodded once and stepped around his brother to grab Y/N’s hand.
He brought her knuckles to his lips and smiled at her “Of course I understand Hvitty. I wouldn’t want to share her either.” Playfully leaning in he whispered to her ”You let me know if you ever get bored of him okay?” He chuckled at her reddened cheeks before winking and turning to leave.
Once alone Hvitserk turned to her, eyes looking straight into hers. He half expected her to laugh in his face, but she didn’t. Instead, there were tears in her eyes. He quickly leaned down and wiped her eyes “please don’t cry. You don’t have to marr—“ his speech was cut off by her lips on his, her arms wrapped around his neck tightly.
“I love you” she muttered into the kiss, her lips dancing with his as she tugged on the ends of his hair. “I love you so much.”
“Is that a yes?” He chuckled, hands on her hips, pulling her away to stare into her eyes. She pushed him on the bed and placed a leg on either side of his hips.
“You tell me” she smirked leaning down to capture his lips again. Tonight was going to be long and he was going to enjoy every second of it.
Synopsis: Upon moving to a new city, the Reader crosses paths with Ivar, Hvitserk and the rest of the Lothbrok clan. Since her own life is already filled with internal demons from a strict upbringing, their introduction into her life only adds to the drama. As things progress, Reader discovers that there is more to her interactions with Ivar and Hvisterk than meets the eye.
Chapter 10 Warnings: Angst, Foreplay, Sex, Smut, Threats and Fluff
Word Count: 10,344
Setting: Modern Vikings
Genre: Romance/Drama
Pairing: Ivar x Reader x Hvitserk (Love Triangle)
Closer To Me: Prologue
Closer to Me: Chapter 1
Closer to Me: Chapter 2
Closer to Me: Chapter 3
Closer to Me: Chapter 4
Closer to Me: Chapter 5
Closer to Me: Chapter 7
Closer to Me: Chapter 8
Closer to Me: Chapter 9
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Nearly two and a half weeks later, you found yourself living with the boys at Ubbe and Bjorn's beach-side mansion. Though you spent time with them when you could, all of you had busy schedules. Especially Hvitserk who had decided to take Alfred's offer to work as a Talent Agent for LMG Records. Because of the job requirements, he and Sigurd traveled allot and had to attend many functions. Which of course meant, you saw him even less than you saw Ivar. But you didn't mind. After all, you were busy yourself.
You had received great news from Tata Vega before moving back to town. He loved the digitals of your artwork and had commissioned five pieces to be unveiled at an exhibit at his new Gallery in Italy.
No one could have been happier than you were, with the exception of Alfred of course. Your shy friend was proud of how far you had come. He stated that you had gone from an introverted waitress to the potential new darling of the Art world. Of course it was all due to his help. A fact that you reminded him of every chance you got. Truly, Alfred was very dear to your heart.
As for your parents, your father and you were on great terms despite you deciding to leave home again. Your mother on the other hand, not so much. She was not only upset about the entire Evan breakup but she hated Ivar. Your father had invited them to dine with you guys at the house a few times. Despite you telling your parents that they were your friends, your mother didn't believe you. She insisted that she knew something was going on between you and the younger Ragnarsson.
Out of the two brother's she disliked him the most. Because of this, the two of them made snide remarks to each other often. But, at least she had dropped the issue of their family's past. Most likely due to her conversations with Hvitserk and how well behaved he was. It didn't hurt that she had also verified their family's net worth online. Typical! Your mother had a thing for affluent people and the Lothbroks were filthy rich.
As you worked on your latest piece while listening to classical music, Ivar entered.
Unlike Hvitserk, he hadn't taken a regular job at any of the family businesses. Instead, he chose to work on assignments whenever he saw fit.
"Hey mus." He said as he turned down the volume on the speakers. "Let's go grab some lunch together."
"I thought you were going to pick up Bjorn and Folaki from the airport."
"Yeah. But they decided to do a stop in Sweden. It seems that your friend has my brother wrapped around her finger." He said chuckling. "Do you know he told me that he's been looking at engagement rings?"
You shrieked at the news despite knowing you couldn't say anything to her about it. Their relationship was truly a whirlwind romance. After only a few months together, even you could see that Folaki's wild ways were behind her. Which was surprising since she had always insisted that monogamy made no sense.
"Don't you think it's good? Them settling down, I mean." Ivar asked as he sat behind you and watched the brush glide against the canvas.
"Of course I do. They really seem to adore each other. I just hope Bjorn lets us be there when he pops the question. She's going to freak, I swear."
As you imagined Folaki's reaction, you laughed to yourself. Ivar on the other hand, was silent as he observed you. For some reason, he seemed to be in a serious mood on this particular day. However, you chalked it up to the fact he woke up very early that morning to host business partners for his dad.
"Mus…..we should get married."
"Who? You, me and Hvitserk?" You asked with a laugh.
Ivar scowled as he stared at you. Feeling his eyes, you glanced over your shoulder, surprised that he now appeared angry.
"Baby, why are you so upset?"
"You! I'm trying to talk about something serious and you're making fun of me."
"I'm not making fun of you. I thought you were joking around."
And just like that, Ivar began a tirade. He first stated that he didn't like the fact you always took his real emotions for granted. As he paced the room, you tried to paint while you listened to him, but he was far too distracting. Setting your brushes and palette down, you turned to face him. You listened attentively and finally, Ivar admitted that he hated sharing you.
"I don't know how they did it. He, Sigurd and Ubbe. But I………..I don't know. Maybe I'm just different. I'm finding it hard to watch you with Hvitty."
"But Ivar, you're the one who suggested it in the first place."
"So what? That doesn't mean anything. Just because I thought something was okay at first, doesn't mean I can't change my mind."
You sighed. What did he want you to do exactly? You adored Hvitserk and couldn't see yourself dumping him for any reason. If anything, Ivar was the one you could possibly see yourself breaking up with. Not that you wanted to do that either. Despite his hot temper, you cared deeply about him too. And though he argued with you often and started fights whenever you went out, your relationship was strong.
"I don’t know what to say." You confessed.
"Just say you'll be with me. Me and no one else."
Your jaw clenched as you looked at him. Ivar was putting you on the spot and you had no clue how to respond.
"Baby, I……I can't do that. I love Hvitty too."
Ivar stared at you as if you had shot him in the heart. For a brief second, you thought he was going to flip your art supplies and paintings over. His blue eyes were dark and full of rage as he stood up and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
Wanting to get far away from the mansion, Ivar went for a stroll on the boardwalk to clear his head. He didn't understand why you were being so difficult. As he stood by the water, he felt his eyes well with tears. Rubbing his face, he tried to figure out whether the relationship between the two of could go on or not.
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Ivar didn't come return home until the later in the evening. During the time he was gone, you were able to finish your painting as well as run a few errands. As you were busily making dinner in the kitchen, Ubbe came in, tired from a long day at work.
"Oh. Another hot meal?" He said as he stood in the kitchen doorway. "You're spoiling us. It's like having our mom here."
"Well, then "son" go and freshen up. The food should be ready in about an hour."
Ubbe smiled before leaving for his room. While you were setting the timer for the roasted Cornish hens, you felt arms wrap around your waist. Since Ivar was mad at you, you had hoped it was him. However, it turned out to be Hvitserk, looking smart in his black suit.
"Hey baby." You said before planting a big kiss on his lips. "How was your day?"
"I'm not going to lie. It was pretty freakin great. I didn't spend allot of time in the office since I had a business luncheon with a certain megastar and her team. She wants to collab with one of our newest rappers."
"Wow! Who is it?"
"I'll give you a hint. She's a Queen with her own hive." He said with a wink.
You nearly jumped out of your skin at the thought of meeting Beyoncé if things worked out. As he told you more about the meeting, you began cutting avocados for the salad. Hvitserk's face lit up when he mentioned how beautiful she was in person.
"No offense, of course."
"Hvitty, this is Beyoncé you're talking about. I would kill you if you didn't find her attractive."
Hvitserk smiled at your response before taking a sip of water.
As the two of you talked about his upcoming trip to New York with Sigurd, Ivar walked into the kitchen. He went straight to the fridge without saying a word to either of you.
"Hey. How's it going?" Hvitserk asked.
Shrugging his shoulders, Ivar opened one of the cabinets and took out a glass. Typically, his moodiness didn't last too long. However, this time, it appeared that Ivar was really angry with you. As he poured himself some orange juice, you and Hvitserk glanced at each other.
"Baby, dinner will be ready in an hour." You said. "Just thought you would like to know."
"Keep your food Y/N. I'm going out."
You sighed before you turned your attention back to the avocados. Naturally, Hvitserk wanted to know what was going on. When he asked Ivar if everything was alright, he chuckled.
"Everything's great. You see, Y/N and I came to an understanding about some things."
"What understanding?" A curious Hvitserk asked.
"That sharing is fine. Which of course means that I can bring home any girl I want."
You rolled your eyes as you checked the timer. Despite the fact that he was exaggerating things said during your conversation, you were in no mood to argue. If he wanted another girl, you would keep your mouth shut.
"Why aren't you saying anything? Ivar suddenly asked.
"What do you want me to say?"
Ivar glared at you before putting the orange juice back in the fridge. He then leaned on the island and stared at you, causing you to become uncomfortable.
"I see you guys had another fight while I was at work." Hvitserk said as he loosened his tie. "Ivar, whatever it is, just stop."
"Shut up, Hvitty! You always do this. It's none of your business. It's between Y/N and I. Right?"
"Whatever you say, Ivar." You said halfheartedly.
As you continued washing vegetables, Ivar grew angrier.
"Say something!" He demanded.
"You know what? Just go out with your friends, alright. Have fun."
"What did you just say?"
"I said, have fun. If you meet someone….good for you."
Ivar rushed from where he was and was instantly beside you. As he roughly grabbed hold of your wrist that held a tomato in the sink, your heart raced. He pressed his forehead against the side of your head aggressively and asked you to repeat yourself.
"Ivar!" Hvitserk said, standing from where he was.
Ignoring his elder brother, Ivar squeezed your wrist harder causing you to wince.
"You're hurting me."
"You better watch how you talk to me Y/N. I've told you before, I'm not Hvitty."
He then let go of your wrist but kept standing at your side. You could feel his breath against your cheek as you tried to wash the tomato again.
"Since you don’t care about me anymore, when I go out tonight, I'll do as you suggested."
"Seriously! Just stop it already." Hvitserk said as he pushed Ivar away from you.
Ivar's blue eyes never left you as he bit his bottom lip in anger. He then demanded that you look at him, but you totally refused. You were in no mood to fight especially with Ubbe being home. Though you didn't like hurting Ivar, you had to resist being pulled into his madness.
"Mus! Open your fucking mouth and say something." Ivar commanded as Hvitserk stood between the two of you.
Despite his increased anger, you kept ignoring him. When he was like this, there was no point in engaging him. It only led to more confrontation and you had learned quickly that silence was golden. Ivar eyed you for what seemed like an eternity before storming out of the kitchen. As he made his way down the hallway, the two of you could hear him kick something and punch the wall.
"It's alright, Y/N. My brother's a very angry person sometimes." Hvitserk said as he wrapped his arms around you.
You loved the fact that he was doing his best to reassure you. But as you embraced Hvitserk, you wondered if you were the one actually making Ivar worse.
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As you and Hvitserk stood in the living room chatting as you waited for Ubbe, Ivar stood in the doorway.
Not that he said anything to either of you. No. He just stood there hate-watching you in an attempt to make you feel guilty. Naturally, you chose to ignore him and focus on your conversation with Hvitserk. After growing tired of you ignoring him, he finally left to meet his friends at the bar while you were busily setting the table
You ate dinner with Hvitserk and Ubbe, glad that there was finally some peace in the house. While the three of you sat at the dining table, you had a chance to catch up with Ryan. Since your brother had a spring break coming, he told you that he would accompany you to Italy. He shocked you by saying your parents were trying to get time off to surprise you. As much as they hated you choosing such an "odd" career, they were slowly warming up to it.
Of course it helped that you told them that Tata Vega had made you a protégé. After all, even people who hated Art knew who he was. The man was just that famous. After speaking to your little brother, you also managed to text with Alfred for a while. Towards the end of your conversation, he mentioned something about a surprise coming for you but stated that he couldn't reveal it yet.
After you were all done eating, Ubbe helped you clean up before turning in for the night. Finally alone, you and Hvitserk settled on the couch and put on a horror flick. As the two of you enjoyed the movie, Ivar was across town standing outside of a local bar with some friends.
As he drank with them, he laughed and carried on as if he was totally fine. However, deep down, he was dying to talk to you. Looking at his cell phone, he hoped that you had sent a text. But when he saw that there wasn't one, he put it in his pocket. One of his friends noticed that he had taken his phone out for the third time and asked if he was expecting a call.
"Not really. I'm just making sure my battery is good."
Another friend suddenly suggested that they go to a nightclub. Despite not really wanting to go, Ivar said he was game. When a group of women passed by, they all dared him to get one of their numbers. Ivar looked in their direction first, before asking how much money was on the line.
"Fifty bucks. But you have to get the tall brunette's number. She looks the most conceited out of all of them." His friend said.
“Don’t be so cheap you peace of shit. One hundred.”
“Fine. A hundred it is asshole.”
Ivar smirked before handing his beer to one of his buddies. He then did an exaggerated bow to his them before running off to catch up to the women. Meanwhile at home, you and Hvitserk were happily spending quality time with each other. As you now sat in the hot tub, you gazed into each other's eyes. If it were possible to see love in someone's eyes, you could definitely see them in his. Hvitserk sensually brushed his lips against your own before parting them in a tender kiss.
"Have I told you how proud I am of you?"
"Like a million time." You replied with a smile.
"Seriously. So many people just give in. I'm glad you're going for your dreams no matter what."
"Well, it's all thanks to Alfred. Without him pushing me, I wouldn't be where I am. He's such a sweetheart."
"Yeah. But not as sweet as you." Hvitserk said before kissing you again passionately.
After breaking the kiss, he slapped you on the ass and said you guys should head to his room.
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In the bedroom, Hvitserk put on his playlist of romantic R&B songs to set the mood. After dimming the lights, he slow danced with you for a while before laying you on the bed.
"You're too much." You said with a smile as he gave you opened mouthed kisses on your neck.
With a flirtatious smirk, he gently separated your legs with his body.
"Hvitty?"
"I'm listening babe."
"I…….I think I’ve fallen in love with you." You said shyly.
Hvitserk smirked before pressing his soft lips to your own. As he took mouth from yours, he looked into your eyes, almost amused at how nervous you looked.
"Well, I hope so. Because I've fallen in love with you, min beskedne."
You pulled him into a kiss that left you both breathless before reaching down between your bodies.
When you took hold of his hardened member and pressed it against your entrance, Hvitserk smacked you hand away. He gave you a devilish smirk before dragging his tongue down your stomach all the way to your mound. As you tried to sit up on your elbows, he pushed you back down.
"Relax, Y/N."
"But----"
Hvitserk told you to lay down before reaching into the nightstand. When he pulled out a pair of pink handcuffs, you raised a brow and giggled.
"Look what Daddy's got. " He said, swinging them on his finger. "I bought these just for you."
"Daddy? No way."
"Yes, way. You have to call me Daddy or I'm going to do some spanking."
"You're crazy."
"Who's crazy?" Hvitserk asked with a smirk.
"You are.............Daddy."
"Good girl." He said before rolling you over and giving you a hard smack on the ass.
"Fine! I'll call you Daddy but I don't want to be cuffed."
"Be quiet. Daddy's in charge now."
Ignoring your protests, he began cuffing you to the headboard. As he did, you couldn't help laughing despite your initial apprehension. When your hands were finally secured above your head, he positioned himself between your legs again.
You felt his fingers gliding up and down your entrance as he teased you with his eyes. When your hips bucked at his touch, Hvitserk pushed your hips down firmly. With a wink, he bent his head down. Your eyes shut as you felt the warmth of his tongue slowly trail along your sensitive flesh. The tingle nearly caused you to close your legs but Hvitserk's arms were strong. He held your thighs open as he started licking in circles, teasing your clit.
"Baby....yes." You murmured, as your back arched off the bed.
Out of the blue, you felt a hard slap against your thigh.
"What did I say, Y/N?" Hvitserk asked as he lifted his head.
"It feels good, Daddy."
"That's better."
Hvitserk bent back down and dragged his tongue over your entire entrance. When he curled the tip of his tongue on your clit, you cried out. Enjoying your reactions, he pulled the sensitive flesh into his mouth and gently sucked on it. Your cries grew louder as your body jerked uncontrollably. You wanted to grab hold of his head badly, but couldn't. Your hands were firmly cuffed and there was no budging them.
"Hvitty!"
Since you broke the rules, he slapped the side of your thigh again. Only this time, much harder than before.
"What did I tell you, Y/N?"
"Daddy."
"That's better."
As he placed his hot mouth back on your pussy again you moaned. Suddenly, your cell phone rang. It rang until the call was eventually sent to voicemail. But not even a second later, it rang several more times as if someone was urgently trying to get a hold of you. Though didn't want to, you asked Hvitserk to check who was calling. You just couldn't enjoy yourself if you didn't know who was trying to reach you. For all you knew, it could have been a family emergency. Fortunately, it wasn't. Hvitserk scoffed as he looked at the screen.
"It's Ivar."
"Just turn it off."
Doing as you asked, he tossed the phone back onto the nightstand. Hvitserk then got the key for the handcuffs and freed your hands.
"I can't take not having you touch me." He said with a wink.
Crawling on top of you, his hands roamed over your breasts as he peppered kisses over them. While he was sucking on your nipples, you wrapped your legs around his waist tightly. Quite aroused, Hvitserk took hold of his cock and began pressing his tip against your wet entrance.
"Are you ready for Daddy to give it to you?"
When you remained silent and raised your hips, he playfully slapped your cheek. Grabbing you forcefully by the jaw, he titled your face toward his.
"I said, are you ready? If you don't answer, I'll have to slap you again."
"Yes, Daddy."You whispered.
Without hesitation, he slowly eased himself into you, watching as your eyes shut and teeth clenched. He grunted as he felt the warmth of your tightness around his member.
"Y/N." He moaned before burying his face against your neck.
While he rested with his pelvis flush against your own, you began to rotate your hips. You could feel hot air against your neck as his breathing became erratic. You continued moving your hips, until Hvitserk finally began meeting you with his own thrusts. At first he moved at a fast pace but then slowed - thrusting deeply each time. As he kissed you, his grunts escaped into your mouth as he pressed your hips into the mattress.
"Don't stop." Hvitserk muttered as his lips grazed yours.
As he quickened his thrusts, you wrapped your arms around his neck. Your bodies moved in unison, as the euphoric high of your lovemaking increased. Hvitserk followed the motions of your hips, resisting the urge to begin pounding into you. It was an excruciating pace but he wanted to please you. But as you began to grind against him faster, the friction caused him to lose control. Hvitserk began thrusting hard as held your hips. You raked your nails on his back as you cried out in pleasure.
The sound of flesh hitting flesh began to echo in the bedroom, almost drowning out the music. After a few minutes of him pounding you at an unrelenting pace, Hvitserk grunted as his cock twitched. He lifted you off the bed as he straddled you around his waist. He supported you while bouncing you on his cock as he came inside you.
"Oh shit!" He grunted.
You soon followed, shaking and losing strength instantly. As your orgasm began, the heat created by the two of you grinding against each other made your bodies glisten.
"Hvitty..................yes." You muttered, holding onto his sweaty neck.
He continued to support you while you rode him, circling your hips. When you finally collapsed against his chest, Hvitserk guided you onto your back gently. He cradled you in his arms as you both lay in silence as if you were the only people in the world.
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As Hvitserk slept beside you, he stirred in his sleep. When his eyes fluttered open, he first looked at you, making sure you were alright. Still, he couldn't shake the ominous feeling that had awakened him. Sensing a presence near the bed, he sat up abruptly only to come face to face with an enraged Ivar. His little brother stared at him with eyes full of malice.
"What the fuck are you doing?" Hvitserk asked between gritted teeth – not wanting to wake you. "You need to get out."
"Who turned her phone off?"
What?"
Ivar raised your cell phone and glared at his brother. Not in the mood to argue in the middle of the night, Hvitserk told him to go to bed. Especially since he could smell the Tequila and beer on his breath.
"Fine. If you won't tell me, then I'll ask Y/N."
"Ivar stop being an ass. She's sleeping."
"So what? If I feel like talking to her, I can."
When Ivar tried to reach over to shake you awake, Hvitserk pushed his hand away. The two brothers stared at each other, the tension thick between them. What was once a peaceful night, had turned upside down in seconds thanks to the youngest Ragnarsson.
"Mus! Wa----"
"Alright!" An irritated Hvitserk said. "If you really want to know, I turned it off."
"Why the hell would you do that? I wanted to talk to her."
"Ivar! The two of you fought practically all day. What did you think was going to happen if you talked to her on the phone?"
"Does it matter? Besides, I just wanted to hear her voice."
Hvitserk rubbed his eyes. He was exhausted and aware that he only had a few hours before he had to get up for work.
"Listen, let's grab some coffee tomorrow and we'll talk about it."
"Talk about what?"
"Listen, Y/N confessed some things to me that I think you need to hear."
Ivar frowned and glanced at your sleeping form. He then looked back at Hvitserk with some confusion.
"Why can't I hear it from her?"
"Trust me. It's better for you and I talk first." Hvitserk said. "Now, please get some rest."
Ivar hesitated at first. He really wanted to wake you but noticed that you never got up the entire time. Knowing how much of a light sleeper you were, he realized you must have been very tired. Despite being drunk, he still cared about your well-being so he agreed to go to his room.
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You and Hvitserk both woke up early to get ready for the busy day ahead. He had nothing but meetings scheduled while you had errands to run – to include getting your passport. Since your Uber arrived before he left for work, you kissed him goodbye before leaving the mansion.
After his morning briefing, Hvitserk met Ivar at a nearby coffee across from LMG records. As he took as seat, he could tell that his little brother was already on edge.
"Y/N won't pick up my calls." Ivar said with an uncomfortable laugh before sipping his cappuccino. "She didn't even respond to any of the texts I sent last night." He then wiped his mouth with his jacket sleeve.
As he looked around, Hvitserk told him that he needed relax. But he couldn't. Ivar just wasn't accustomed to things not going his way. Typically, when he offended someone, they were too afraid to call him out. In fact, the other person would do their best to get back in his good graces. But not you. Not this time anyway. It appeared that you were done dealing with his temper.
"Call her on your phone."
"No, Ivar. We came to talk, remember?"
"Fine. But after we're done, will you do that for me?
Hvitserk shrugged and asked his brother to focus for a moment. As he drank his coffee, he told Ivar that you were tired of arguing all the time.
"She said she's over it."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Don't get so defensive. It just means you guys need to stop being at each other's throats all the time. Or else."
"Or else what?" Ivar asked as he stared at his brother. "Don't sugar coat it. What did she say?"
"She.......... might end things."
Ivar immediately stood up and began walking away. A frustrated Hvitserk picked up his cup and followed, yelling for him to stop. When he finally caught up to Ivar, he managed to convince him to take a seat near an old fashioned building.
"Just listen to everything I have to say before you get all pissed off." Hvitserk said.
Ivar pulled out a pack of cigarettes form his jacket pocket and stuck one in his mouth.
“Go ahead, Let’s hear all the bad things she had to say about me.” He said, genuinely unable to understand why you were so mad at him.
"Look. I never said that she’s planning on breaking up with you. I only said that she's sick of all the fighting."
"At least that's what she admitted. Look, I know Y/N better than she knows herself. She's just saying half of what she really feels. I'm not surprised though." Ivar said as he blew smoke from his mouth. "She wanted you from the beginning anyway."
"Stop talking like that."
"It's okay, Hvitty. I can't make her stay with me if she doesn't want to."
"You're overreacting. Just control your temper and you guys will be fine."
Ivar continued smoking as Hvitserk confessed that he had one more thing to tell him. Though he hesitated at first, the elder Ragnarsson knew it was now or never.
"Tata Vega extended an invitation for Y/N to train under him in addition to signing with his agent."
"So? Isn't that what she's doing with the exhibit?"
"Not exactly. It's an offer for her to live in Italy..........for the foreseeable future."
Ivar's blue eyes widened with shock. He couldn't believe that you hadn't mentioned it to him at all. Despite being a life changing decision for you, it would affect him as well.
"What did you say to her?"
"It's a no brainier, Ivar. I told her to go for it!"
"Are you fucking nuts? You want Y/N to move halfway across the world?"
"Of course not but this is her her dream. Why should she stay here when a huge opportunity waits for her in Italy?"
Ivar frowned as he continued smoking. He couldn't believe that his brother didn't see a problem with the entire situation. Glancing at his phone, Hvitserk stood up and said he had to get back to the office. When he left, an angry Ivar pondered what to say when he saw you that evening.
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That evening, you got home a little past eight due to spending time with Jason and his girlfriend, Irene. When they dropped you off, you forced them to come inside so you could feed them. There was no way you were going to let them eat fast food when you had plenty of leftovers from all the cooking you did.
Hvitserk was already home so the four of you were able to enjoy a lively dinner together. Afterward, you were all watching TV when Ivar finally arrived home. Though he seemed to be in one of his moods, he behaved himself since there was company.
"How's everyone doing tonight?" He asked as he took a seat beside Hvitserk.
As you sat between Jason and his girlfriend, you noticed Ivar giving you strange looks. You knew what he was trying to do. However, if he thought he could intimidate you into talking to him, he had another thing coming. Especially since he had yet to apologize. Despite all the messages and texts, none of them were about feeling bad for how he had treated you. Ignoring Ivar, you announced that Jason was taking vacation days to attend your exhibit.
"That's great." Hvitserk said. "See babe, everyone's really happy for you."
Jason agreed but added that he planned on taking you clubbing after your time in the spotlight.
"No way. You and Folaki need to stay in your hotel rooms. The two of you always start trouble when you go out." Irene said.
As you nodded, you pushed Jason's shoulder playfully.
"So true. The last thing I want to do is go around begging for your freedom at random police stations."
As everyone was in conversation, Ivar looked at you and asked how excited you were about Italy. Though your friends didn't catch it, you and Hvitserk could hear the sarcasm in his tone.
"I'm super excited. Who wouldn't be?"
"True. Besides, who wouldn't want to go to Italy? I hear it's also a great place to live." Ivar said, staring straight into your eyes.
You sighed, knowing that Hvitserk had managed to tell him about your career opportunity. Not that you were upset. It had been your idea for Ivar to hear it from his brother anyway. Since he had a bad temper, you figured it would prevent another argument. Naturally, his snide comments were to be expected.
"Ivar, please take a quick walk with me?" You said as you stood up.
Despite looking disinterested in going at first, he followed you. As the two of you made your way out of the house and towards the boardwalk, he kept glancing at you. Eventually, you felt his arm move around your waist, but you moved away. The fact that you wiggled out of his arms made him angry and he almost contemplated going back to the house. However, he kept walking beside you. As you focused on the setting sun in the distance, you prepared your thoughts. Though it was going to be hard, the conversation you were about to have was long overdue.
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As you stood facing Ivar, you resolve wavered. Not because you didn't know what you wanted to say. After all, you had been practicing everything in your head for a few days now. However, it was difficult to speak with his blue eyes boring into your soul. Even without trying, Ivar had a way of intimidating you.
"So..............I suppose you know everything by now."
"Mus! That's a stupid thing to say. Of course I know. The question is, why did I have to hear it from Hvitty instead of you?"
"Because, just look at how you're reacting? You-----"
"Excuse me? Oh, I see. Because I'm not reacting the way you want, something's wrong with me?"
"I didn't say that. You're putting words in my mouth."
"Then what are you saying?"
You rolled your eyes as you bit your lip in frustration. Talking to Ivar was like talking to a ticking time bomb. One wrong word or statement, and he flew into a tangent that left you mentally drained.
"Ivar, I don't want to argue with you. It's become very tiresome"
"Really?" He asked with an annoyed expression. "I had no idea you felt this way. So now, you find me tiresome? That's good to know. Please, don't stop now. Go on."
"See, that's exactly what I'm talking about! Whenever you ask me to be honest with you, I know you don't really mean it. That's why it's so hard for us to talk to each other."
Ivar's eyes were wide and his nostrils flared as he glared at you, almost as if you were insane. You weren't sure why, but it seemed that none of your words were reaching him. As usual, Ivar thought you were overreacting and being dramatic.
"Fine. You want us to be honest, I'll start. I'm pissed off and I have every right to be. First you hide your job offer from me, then, you send Hvitty to deliver the message. I'm not a monster, Y/N. You could have told me yourself."
"I know..........it's..........it's just hard to talk to you these days."
"That's bullshit! Besides, I'm the one that here for you more than Hvitty. His new job barely allows him to spend time with you."
"I don't care that he's busy. It's better than being around each other all the time and doing nothing but fighting. I'm so over it!"
Ivar's stared into Y/C eyes as if you had said the worst thing in the world. You couldn't quite make-out the expression he wore on his face. It was an odd mixture of rage and sadness. You hadn't intended on being so blunt but he had pushed your buttons.
"What are you trying to say, Y/N?"
"I.......I'm just saying that I'm over all..............this! Whatever it is."
"Mus, don't beat around the bush. Just say what you really want to say. After all, you haven't had any problem telling me how you feel up to now. You obviously can't stand me anymore so just say it."
"Ivar, you're putting words in my mouth again. I never-----"
"No, Y/N, I'm not. If you want to move to Italy, that's fine. I won't try to stop you. Go ahead and chase your amazing career."
"Ivar!"
"Isn't that what you want to hear? Besides, Hvitty supports it so, I'm sure you'll be happy. The two of you will make it work."
"Will you let me talk? I don't understand why you make it so hard to have a normal conversation with you."
"There's nothing left to talk about." Ivar said as he eyed you - his expression now full of anger.
When you reached out to touch his hand, he stepped back, surprising you. Never had Ivar moved away from any show of affection before. That's when you knew he was truly upset with you. You stared at each other for a while, as people walked past. It was such an odd moment knowing that everything was going downhill fast.
"I'm sorry you feel that way." You said, still stunned by his behavior.
"I'm sorry too. But I'm sure Hvitty will take good care of you."
"What?"
"You heard me, Y/N. I'm doing us both a favor. We're done."
"You're breaking up with me?"
"It's for the best. I'm done chasing you and you obviously don't want to be chased. Don't worry, I won't be around much longer."
With that, Ivar walked away from you, obviously going for a stroll by himself. As you watched him go down the boardwalk, you felt numb. You couldn't believe that he had basically dumped you. It was infuriating to think that you had been so concerned about his feelings, yet, he showed none for yours.
"Goodbye, Ivar." You muttered to yourself before walking towards the mansion alone.
______________
The next three weeks were a blur. You were so busy trying to get ready for your move to Italy that you had no real time to cry over your breakup with Ivar. Not that you wanted to. The way he had dumped you had made you angry more than anything else. Fortunately, despite him still living at the mansion, you barely saw him. Ivar spent most of his time crashing at a friend's apartment and only came over to grab clothes and stuff.
One day, when he did run into you in the driveway, he stared at you as you waited for your Uber. He was holding hands with a girl as his friends all got out of their cars. Naturally, you ignored him. When he did attempt to walk over to you, the blonde he was with pulled him into the house.
It was then that you realized that the the two of you were truly over. So, you did your best to focus on you and Hvitty. Thankfully, he was able to convince Alfred to allow him to work remotely from Italy. Especially since the location fit into their plans of having an agent travel across Europe, Asia.
Tata Vega's real estate agent helped Hvitty secure a nice villa for the two of you. It was located in a nice neighborhood and not far from where the new gallery was located. All in all, things were going well for you. Bjorn and Folaki were also a great help. Since the elder Ragnarsson had a home in Denmark, he knew all about living overseas. He graciously assisted you with the last minute details of your move.
When your last week in country finally arrived ,you could barely contain your excitement. Hvitserk had planned a get-together for family and close friends that was only a day away. He had wanted to throw a big going away party, but he knew that you hated big crowds. The night before the event, Ivar called Hvitty and asked him to meet him at his friends apartment. When he told you about it, you shrugged at told him to go. After all, the last thing you wanted to do was to keep them apart. Regardless of how badly you and Ivar had ended, he was still Hvitserk's brother.
It was a little after nine in the evening when Ivar and Hvitserk sat at the waterfront. Since the apartment he was staying at had a great view of a river, they decided to converse outside. As they smoked and drank beer together, they discussed sports for a while. As Hvitserk talked excitedly about soccer, Ivar suddenly glanced at him.
"I miss Y/N."
Hvitserk couldn't help giving his brother a sympathetic look. Being the closest to Ivar, he knew that despite his fearsome persona, his little brother's emotions ran deep.
"Why don't you call her then?"
"No. She doesn't care about me anymore."
"That's not true." Hvitserk said as he took a sip of beer. "She does care about you, allot."
"Thanks but I know what I'm talking about. When I broke up with Y/N, I expected her to react in some way. You know. Get mad enough to do something. Curse me out, scream, slap me.............anything. I never expected her to just accept it."
"Why don't you just tell her?"
"Because it wouldn't change anything. I know that she doesn't love me. Fuck. I could see it in her expression when I said we were over. She looked..............relieved." Ivar's eyes welled with tears as he stared into the water. "She loves you though."
Hvitserk's shoulder slumped a little at his brother's words. It was true. Though he was certain that you loved him, he wasn't sure how you felt about the youngest Ragnarsson.
"Ivar, just because your relationship with Y/N is over, don't make up things in your head. She did love you."
"No, she didn't! She never told me that she loved me, ever. I've heard her say it to you though." He said with a weak smile. "I'm happy for you, despite how I may sound right now. There's a little jealousy, I won't lie, but you're my brother. I want to see you happy no matter what."
Hvitserk returned the smile, even though it was hard for him to do it. His eyes were wet with tears from seeing his brother so depressed.
"So, the party's tomorrow, huh?" Ivar asked.
"Yeah. You're coming, right?"
"No. I don't want to see Y/N. Not yet anyway." Ivar said as he wiped his eyes. "Maybe in a few months or years. Then we can go on double dates or something."
The two brothers exchanged understanding glances. Hvitserk knew that no matter what, he would not be able to convince his little brother to attend. So, he dropped the subject. He then reached into his pocket and pulled out a miniature pink envelope you had given him. It was something you had asked him to give to Ivar. Handing it to his brother, the elder Ragnarsson looked out over the city.
"What's this?"
"Y/N told me to give it to you." Hvitserk said before finishing his cigarette.
When Ivar opened the tiny envelope, there was a strip of white paper inside with the word "Always" written in black ink. As he stared at the tiny note, Hvitserk stood up and pulled out his car keys.
"I better get going. It's going to be a long day tomorrow."
"Alright. Since I'm not coming to the party, we'll do something before you leave. I'll call you."
When Hvitserk left, Ivar sat by the water alone, looking at the note. Suddenly, he tore it in half, and prepared to throw it into the trash can beside him. But, he changed his mind.
Ivar thought for a good, long while before deciding to invite you out for coffee. Hopefully, there was still a chance to fix things.
_________________
When you received the text from Ivar to meet for coffee, you didn't know what to think. The two of you had been avoiding each other for nearly four weeks. While you mulled things over, he sat at the cafe, looking at his phone. Since you were taking long to return his text, he ordered a coffee so that he wouldn't just be taking up a table.
"Come on Y/N, text me back." He muttered as he stared at the screen.
Though you wanted to reach out to Ivar, you couldn't bring yourself to do it. You were just about to begin texting when your mind flashed through all the fights. It wasn't only the yelling that bothered you, it was how easily he was able to bully you at times. So despite wanting to see Ivar, you put your phone back down. As you laid in bed, you heard the familiar ring tone that belonged to only him.
Ivar had given up waiting for you to return the text and decided to call you instead. As he held the phone to his ear, his heart raced.
"Mus, please pick up." Ivar thought - clenching his jaw in anticipation.
When the call eventually went to voicemail, he nearly threw the phone down the street. After listening to your greeting, he decided against leaving a message. Abandoning his coffee, Ivar walked down the street, alone and upset.
You and Hvitserk were flying to Italy early the next morning and there was no changing that. And since you had refused to respond to him, Ivar finally had his answer. The two of you, were totally over.
________________
Ivar didn't come to see you and Hvitserk off at the airport like everyone else. In the private lounge, there was a bit of a party going on. Almost the entire Lothbrok clan was there. From Ragnar, Lagertha, Aslaug and Floki to the cousins like Alfred, everyone sat around talking and laughing.
Bjorn, who had a wanderlust, decided to fly out with you guys on the private jet. He was never one to stay at one place for a long time and Italy had his name all over it. As far as your BFF Folaki, she was working since it was her last week at Club 52. One thing she didn't know was that Bjorn was going to propose to her in Italy. Thankfully he promised to wait until after your Art Exhibit so that he didn't steal your thunder.
As you sat beside Ragnar, you were quietly watching everyone have a good time when he leaned over.
"I hear you ran my youngest son off."
You nearly spit out your orange juice as you stared at him, unsure of what he meant. Giving you a smirk, he leaned back in his chair with his plate of fruit.
"No need to be so alarmed. Ivar's moody but he does share things with me time-to-time."
You looked at the floor, mortified beyond belief. Your ears and neck were hot with embarrassment as you realized he knew you had been with his two sons. When Hvitserk took a seat beside you, he noticed that you looked like you had seen a ghost. Of course, he asked what was wrong with you.
"Your........your dad.........he knows?"
"Of course. Besides, like we told you already, sharing a woman is okay in our culture. It's only you who's so embarrassed. You should see your face right now." Hvitserk added before laughing at you.
While you were all busily having fun at the airport, Ivar was on a train in a window seat. He wasn't even sure what he was doing exactly. All he knew is that he had to get away from everyone for a while. When he had searched online, he found a quaint Belgian styled town. Naturally, he figured it was a good place as any to hide out until he got over the breakup. As he listened to music, he wondered if there was any part of you that regretted how things had ended.
___________________
It was the end of the first week of being in Italy and boy, were you ever loving it. From the scenic architecture of the town to the location of your Villa near the water, you couldn't be a happier person. Even though you guys hadn't totally finished unpacking, your Art studio was already set-up. Since it faced the sea, you felt inspired every time you stepped in the room.
Hvitserk's childhood friend from Denmark lived nearby so you guys had company for dinner most nights. It was really nice to see him relaxed and enjoying the move. Truthfully, you had been worried that he would regret leaving his entire family. However, you were shocked at how easily Hvitserk adjusted to the move. As for Bjorn, who was staying in one of the guest rooms, he had gone on a business trip to Germany.
Since Folaki was arriving in a few days, you promised the eldest Ragnarsson that you would find a great event hall for the proposal. Despite trying to get Hvitserk’s help, he kept saying it "wasn't his thing".
As you sat on the floor of the living room looking at venues on your tablet, Hvitserk called you into the kitchen. When you went, he was standing next to his friend Daniel, smirking at you. Instantly, you wondered what they were up to. Especially since the two of them looked too smug for their own good.
"Why are you guys smiling so much?" You asked.
"I’ll answer that for you."Daniel said to Hvitserk before giving you his attention. "Guess who convinced LMG Records to open an office out here? And not only that, but also got me hired as an Agent?"
You glared at them, realizing they had been drinking and it wasn't even dinner time. Though you wanted to laugh, you bit your lip, finding them adorable.
"Let me gue-----."
"Me babe! The best part is I'm not going to be traveling much anymore. Once the office is set-up, I'll have plenty of minions to do that for me. I mean, have you ever seen a VP of Operations traveling like a commoner? I don’t think so." A pleased Hvitserk said before putting the champagne bottle to his lips.
"Minions?" You repeated with a chuckle. "So you got a promotion as well?"
"That's right. Alfred and Sigurd really went to bat for me with the Board of Directors. Boom!"
"Okay, it's time for you to stop drinking from the bottle." You said before taking it from him.
Since it was a huge achievement, the three of you decided to celebrate at a waterfront restaurant instead of staying home. You couldn't deny it. Despite everything, the move to Italy was the best thing that had happened to you in a long time.
________________
While you were out running errands the following day, you kept getting calls from an unknown number. It was definitely a local number, however, you didn't know that many people in Italy. Since you didn’t know who was calling, you ignored it. But as you purchased some coffee, you received a text from the same number. The person said "Hi" in Italian so you sent a message asking who they were just in case they were Art connected.
Your heart raced as you looked at the last line of text. 'Behind you.' Could it be that Ivar had really come to Italy? And just like that, all your feelings for him came bubbling to the surface. Who were you lying to? You missed him so much and there wasn't a day that went by that you didn't wonder where he was or what he was doing.
As you put your phone back in your purse, you were practically shaking. Right behind you, seated by a Gelato stand, you spotted a man that appeared to be Ivar. Despite having his back to you, you just knew that it had to be him. The build, the way his man-bun was styled...................you just knew.
Rushing over, you sat beside him before tapping his shoulder. Oddly enough, Ivar didn't turn around right away. Instead, he started bouncing his shoulders to the music playing over the outdoor speakers.
"Ivar!" You almost screeched, overwhelmed at being so close to him after so long.
Though he heard you, he kept dancing, which made your smile turn into laughter. As he heard you finally enjoying his little show, Ivar finally turned around to face you. He dropped the rose from his mouth and continued doing his goofy dance.
"You're nuts." You said – as tears stung your eyes.
Without waiting for him, you threw your arms around Ivar's neck, embracing him so tightly, that passerbys whispered.
"Oh my God, baby! I can't believe you're really here."
"Mus, look at me."
Ivar pushed you back slightly as he kept his arm around your waist. Both of you were near tears as you looked into each other's eyes. The emotions of the moment not needing words.
"Do you miss me?" A solemn Ivar asked, almost as if he was afraid of the answer.
Without saying anything, you leaned in and kissed him. Tasting Ivar's lips after the long separation caused a moan escape your throat. In return, he kissed you hungrily too, not caring that you were seated outside. You could tell how much he missed you by the way he refused to let you to break the kiss. Every time you tried to catch your breath, his lips were immediately on yours - biting, licking and nibbling. Ivar really made your lips quite puffy from his passionate kisses.
When you finally got him to look at you, he pressed his forehead against yours - his hand on the small of your back.
"Mus------."
"Ivar, I love you."
His blue eyes met yours as his lips parted in shock. Hvitserk had told you that Ivar didn't believe you loved him and you wanted to fix that. Though you said many things when the two of you had sex, it wasn't the same. He needed to know that you loved him beyond the sexual part of your relationship.
"Say it again, mus."
"I love you so much Ivar. I always have."
"Always?"
"Always." You said.
A few tears finally escaped your eyes and rolled down your cheeks slowly. Ivar gently wiped them with his thumb as he kept his forehead against yours.
"I want you back, Y/N."
"Me too. You don't know how happy I am right now. I swear, I can't imagine my life without you."
"Really? Say that for me again." Ivar said as he brushed his lips against yours.
"I want you back, Ivar. I love you so much and I can’t imagine living my life without you."
After hearing you say what he had longed to hear, Ivar pulled you into one of the most tender embraces you had ever felt. He held you like a man who had been on a long journey and had finally returned home. When he stood, he took you by the hand, staring at you as if you were the only person in the world. Not that you weren't looking at him with the same amount of love. You couldn't believe how close you had come to losing each other.
"Mus."
"Yes, baby."
"You owe me for the rose. I mean, I'm not made of money like Hvitserk."
Before you could hit him, Ivar let go of your hand and jogged away. He knew that his sense of humor got under your skin but it didn't mean he was going to stop being himself.
____________________
You and Ivar spent the rest of the day running your errands before grabbing lunch at a American style restaurant. The entire time, he couldn't stop looking at you. He sat beside you, barely eating his food - choosing instead to cuddle you. When an old woman stopped at the table and complimented him for being such a sweet husband, you nearly choked on your burger.
Ivar, who was totally tickled by her assumption didn't even blink an eye. He thanked her and then told you to stop being rude. After making you thank the old woman for noticing how great your "marriage" was, he told her that sometimes, you were a bad wife. Incensed by his revelation, the old lady spent fifteen minutes lecturing you about the importance of a happy home. When she finally left and you were sure that she was out of earshot, you smacked Ivar's shoulder hard.
After leaving the restaurant, the two of you stopped at a store close to the villa to grab some wine. While there, Ivar held your hand firmly despite you wanting to go down the other isles alone.
"Does Hvitty know you're here yet?"
"Of course, mus. Who do you think helped me stalk you?"
"Really?"
"Yeah. He told me what time you would be leaving the house so I could tail you. You're so cute when your lost." Ivar then went on to imitate you in a high pitched tone. "Excuse me....Sir....Signore. Do you speak English, uh Inglese? I need to find this store."
You tried your best not to laugh. After all, it was you he was making fun of.
"I don't sound like that."
"Alright. If you say so." Ivar said with a laugh. "You sounded like you were on the verge of tears every time you asked for directions.
"Will you just buy the damn wine so we can get out of here!"
"Touchy."
Eventually, Ivar settled on three wines with the help of the the store owner. Naturally, they were very expensive but they were the type of wines a Lothbrok could easily afford. After he paid, the owner introduced himself as Ambrogio. He then insisted that the two of you taste some wines made at his family's private vineyard. As you stood beside Ivar drinking, he and Ambrogio became fast friends, laughing about all manner of things. After chatting for nearly an hour, the two of them exchanged numbers. Before you left the store, Ambrogio even invited you guys to an upcoming party at his estate.
The way that Ivar made friends always impressed you. It was as if people just gravitated to his magnetic personality. When the two of you entered the villa, it was obvious that Hvitserk was home. Not wanting to be seen yet, Ivar ducked into the closest guest room and sat down. You took the bag of wines from his hand and told him to stay put.
"Give me like five minutes and then come out."
"You think that's enough time?" Ivar whispered.
You nodded before leaving him in the room. When you got to the kitchen, Hvitserk was there making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
"Hey baby. How was your day?" He asked before giving you a kiss on the lips.
"It was good. Please don't eat all of that. I'm going to cook."
As you put the wines in the electric chiller, he glanced at you. Right away, you knew he was waiting for you to say something about Ivar. Smirking to yourself, you put the recyclable bags away before looking at him again.
"I'm going to turn on some music." You said as you loosened your ponytail.
"Okay. But.............how was your day?"
"You just asked me that, Hvitty."
Hvitserk stared at you blankly a moment before he put the jelly back in the fridge. As he went to the living room, you followed him. You took a seat on the couch and removed your heels, glad to have them off. Though the TV was on, Hvitserk kept glancing in your direction, looking quite on edge. Finally, he couldn't keep his curiosity in check any longer.
"Y/N, do you know Ivar is here?"
"Ivar's is in Italy?
Hvitserk nodded as he bit his sandwich and pushed the bread to the side of his mouth.
"He wanted to see you."
"Me?"
"Who else?"
"Well, you do remember that he dumped me. Right?"
Despite sighing, Hvitserk explained that Ivar regretted breaking up with you. He even confessed that he was the one who advised him to come to Italy to straighten things out.
"Hvitty. I can't believe you would do that." You said, trying to look genuinely hurt. "He chose to leave me."
"He didn't mean it though. I've told you before, don't always take everything Ivar does personally. He's a good person who makes mistakes."
"I know but.........."
"So you didn't hear from him?"
You stood up and turned your back to Hvitserk. It was just too much and you were on the verge of laughing. As you stood with your back to him, Hvitserk went to the window to check if he had closed it. Just then, Ivar came rushing into the living-room yelling Hvitserk's name at the top of his lungs. When the two of them saw each other, they embraced like long lost friends.
You stood by the fireplace, smiling as they talked excitedly for a while. Suddenly Ivar looked at you.
"Get over here, mus."
He grabbed your wrist and gave you a peck on the lips. As you tried to go to the kitchen to start dinner, Hvitserk smacked you on the ass.
"You're in so much trouble. I can't believe you bullshitted me like that."
"It was Ivar's idea." You protested.
"So? What does that mean?"
"Exactly Hvitty?" Ivar said before looking at you and smirking. "Just because I suggested something didn't mean you had to do it."
You rolled your eyes as you wen to the kitchen. After putting your apron on, you started washing the vegetables in the sink. As you stood there, you could the boys chatting it up and blasting music. It was an unconventional relationship, but one that made all three of you happy. Especially you. After the way Evan had treated you, never in a million years did you think you would feel wanted again.
How the three of you would deal with raising children was an issue you would deal with when the time came. All you knew was that you were beyond happy. Your exhibit was in a week's time and your best friends Folaki and Jason were arriving the next day. There was so much ahead for you and you wanted do it all with Hvitserk and Ivar by your side.
❛ type | double triple? shot, mistakes were made au
❛ chp summary | after the reader says she doesn’t want hvitserk; he makes a bad decision. it gets worse from there.
❛ tags | plus size reader, verbal arguments, extreme social anxiety, extreme body insecurity, drinking, hateful words, illustrator hvitserk x writer reader, mention of infidelity, shame, OCs, sexual frustration, blackmail, cheating mentioned, verbal abuse, sexual blackmail, poor communication? it’s more likely than you think. tags to be added.
❛ request | So Hvitserk request (you a asked for it 😂) Remember the Little Lovers event and the self-conscient plus size reader who didn’t want to have sex ?Well I didn’t get the sex lol. I want my Hvitserk to show a woman how her body is enjoyable. Thank you 😊 for @alicedopey
❛ sy’s note | i’ll eventually get you your sex scene, DAMN IT.
He wakes with a blaring headache caused by a stream of fresh morning light against his soft cheek. He pulls his arms around you-- or, what he thought was you, as the moment he does so, he knows it’s wrong. Where soft folds and overflowing breasts were, he finds thin limbs and small breasts.
It’s not your body-- he realizes all at once. The high rise apartment that overlooked the city wasn’t, either. It was the fruit of an accomplished older woman, whose many books hovered on a white shelf beside a white bed. Everything in the room holds the same pure standard. He flings himself from the bed, his naked ass colliding with a nightstand. The items ripple over the surface and settle into new positions. The woman pushes up, dragging the painfully monochrome white fluffy sheet to cover her flat chest.
“Hvitserk?”
Erika, in all her sharp-eyed glory, stares right back at him. Vomit spins up his throat, incited by the affection by with her eyes considered him. Hvitserk scrambles over the perfectly plain hardwood floors, upchucking up what’s left of his agitated stomach after his pathetic night out on the town.
“Hvitserk!”
Her spindly hand is at his back. Ordinarily, she was a comfort in your absence. That despite her pushing, and pushing, and pushing to get your name off “his” book, she would always be there for him in ways that a lover could not. Author-illustrators make so much more than being an illustrator alone, she reminded him. Her considerate words now feel like measured steps against his relationship. Her touch rips his skin into gooseflesh. Hvitserk works his shoulder away, his knuckles becoming white around the bowl.
“You drank too much last night.” it’s a non-question. Obviously, if he were here, he had. He groans his miserable response into the toilet bowl, wishing he could smother himself in the water, as it would be a better punishment than anything his girlfriend could do to him. “I’ll make you some coffee.”
Her steps become distant echoes. When he finishes and cleans after himself, he starts his search for his clothes. He picks them from a singular pile, draws them back on, and reaches for his phone. It bleats a miserable eight percent battery life.
“She didn’t call if that’s what you’re thinking.”
Ericka stands in a silvery slip; although he’s not sure when she put on some clothes. She hands him his cup of coffee and takes a seat on her “divorce couch”, a plain grey chair that she scammed her ex-husband out of. As she sits there, all long limbs, and purposefully sultry clothes-- the guilt strikes him.
Hvitserk takes a sip of bitter, burnt black coffee. She’s never been a great coffee maker but her heart is in the right place. It wouldn’t feel right to snuff her. After all, he probably spent the night before buried in her cunt.
“You called me to pick you up at the bar last night. You were so drunk all you wanted to do was lay on my chest,” Ericka pulls a sheer black kimono over her thin collarbones. His eyes fall on her hands. “I told you she’d break your heart. Women like that-- once they get over a certain weight-- they aren’t emotionally available to do anything but eat. It consumes them.”
“She ain’t like that.”
“If she’s not like that, then why did you have sex with me? Be honest with yourself, Hvitserk. Your needs aren’t met with her. That’s why you needed me.”
His mouth runs dry. Like he’s been chewing on his regret as if it were paper. He couldn’t remember the night before. It was like a bad memory he never wanted to recover. Hvitserk glances down to his cup as he sinks onto her bed.
“It was an accident,” he glares at the surface. “I- You know I can’t be with you, right? You’re--”
“Old?” she asks. He’s never cared about something as simple as that. Twelve years his senior or not, it wasn’t an issue.
“It’s not that. C’mon Erika, you know I don’t give a shit about age. She’s my baby girl.”
“You’re going to stay with her? A woman like that?”
“Like what?” Hvitserk sets the coffee on the nightstand as he snaps at her before he could bite it back. He knew what she meant. Erika’s long ranging sigh reminds him of Aslaug. How tenderly her hands would wrap around him even though they were truly tainted with alcohol perfuming off her breath.
“I’ve been your agent for years Hvitserk. We go through this every time you find a girl. This oen is by far the worst. She doesn’t care about you. Look at all that work you did for her yesterday. The pendant you bought her. The work you’ve put into her books! You even pick up all the food she eats. She won’t go outside of her house and you still expect that she’ll suddenly become this fat trophy wife on your arm.”
“Just because she’s fat don’t--”
“It isn’t about the fat, Hvitserk. How many times does she have to show you, or tell you for you to get the picture through your stupid head, huh? She doesn’t want you! And you have the balls to call me a fucking accident.”
“Erika--”
She leaps up from her chair. Hvitserk sucks in a hard breath and tries to find sense through the nonsense, looking through his phone. Erika was right. You hadn’t sent a message. Not in his texts, not on his social media. More egregiously, he spots a new post. Ericka’s hands fold over his, pushing him back to sit on the bed. She slides over his thin hips and takes a seat on his empty lap. It was painfully simple, painfully domestic, and painfully wrong.
“Let me tell you what I’ve learned in forty years,” Erika whispered in his ear. Her thin lips move, gliding like butter in his ear. “If someone doesn’t want you, there’s nothing you can do to change that.” Her fingers comb through his hair, like slimy tendrils. “But I’m here.”
Hvitserk tips his head nack, gazing at the ceiling. Her palm caresses his scruffy jawline to drag his attention from the ceiling to her soft blue eyes, a painless depth, if only he would listen to her words. Hvitserk shifts her back on the bed, loitering around her waist with a supportive hand on the base of her back.
“I know you care ‘bout me. I just-- need some time, okay?”
It doesn’t slip him that she’s scowling as he walks out of her home. There was someone he could count upon, when things were difficult, his phone buzzing in his palm reminded him of that.
“Hey, Ivar.”
Or, maybe not.
“You fucked her?” Ivar stopped chewing his pastry, ambling his head one way then another, laughing against himself. He took his mug of properly brewed coffee to his lips. Hvitserk regrets agreeing to meet him at the cafe. “What were you thinking sleeping with your agent?”
“I wasn’t thinking! I was drunk--” Hvitserk set his hand to his forehead. He has no appetite as he cycled through what he had done, searching out the moment that he called Erika. He fails to locate anything but quiet sobbing behind the neck of a beer bottle and a distant, squeamish feeling of fingers down his nape. “I think she took advantage of me.”
Ivar sets down his cup of coffee, picking up a fork and knife as he leaned over the table, lips punctuating each word.
“Yes, well, I am sure that will go over with your girlfriend well. I’m sorry, I slept with my skinny, well-established agent who has been wanting me to get rid of you. That bitch has been after you for years. What do you think she will do now? She won’t let you go.”
“She understands,” he reflects at the monochrome crowd. His plate is full but has gone cold with his lack of appetite. Normally, this was the place he came with his brother to binge breakfast and muse about women. Ubbe wouldn’t care about his issues: he never had time for anyone but himself. Not really. Ivar scoffed, gazing into the foot traffic flitting by their cafe.
“Tch, I’m sure she does. She will probably break up with you.”
He bobbed his head.
“I think she already has.”
A normal man would come to beg.
But Hvitserk draws in the deep quiet of the park. With only the barks of dogs, the giggles of children, and the occasional frequency from couples watching movies in the park, it’s a place of solace by the small pond.
He starts with an outline of Xiao’s small face. It’s a rough outline, budding and ready to be kissed with by watercolours. Soft pinks like petals of peonies droop in his photo. He must have blended this shade wrong. Line after line that he sweeps, he weeps. His phone jingles in his pocket and his heart tightens around his chest like a straight jacket to someone in an insane asylum. He must be going crazy-- if he too can no longer paint.
“Where are you?!” you boom on the other end of the line. Hvitserk fumbles his phone, suckling in a breath. Had Ivar told you? No, his brother wouldn’t. Not Ivar. He was never a gossiper.
“In-- in the park?”
“What has gotten into you? You could have at least texted me to tell me you were okay. I was worried sick!”
You? Worried sick? This wasn’t the you from yesterday. The one that pelted out how selfish he was for craving intimacy. The one that told him that all he wanted was to sexualize you. As if he were some sixty year old pervert with a camera in hand to click a picture of under your beautiful pastel skirts. Hvitserk sets the brushes into his cup of water and sets aside Xiao’s painting to dry.
“Hvitserk!”
“I’m here,” he blurts out. “I didn’t think you’d care. You didn’t call.”
“Like I didn’t I call you all night.”
Something cracks, deep in his belly. With all the days of work he’d done for you and you alone, he forgot himself in the mix. He jerked his phone back, frantically looking at his phone app. No recent calls meant what they meant. When he finds nothing, it only thrusts him into a further rage.
“Bullshit,” he belts out. “You didn’t. You didn’t care about me last night. You never fuckin’ do.”
“Hvit--” he turns off his phone. There was a sliver of a moment in which he regrets that on the basis of last night. Maybe you rejected him, but he wasn’t an idiot. A man simply didn’t cheat on his girlfriend because she said no.
He packs up his bag and heads toward the football field. It’s time to play football.
He smashes Ubbe on the field. If he wasn’t at peace with being an illustrator, maybe he could have been a ballplayer. Flipping the ball from foot to foot with Ubbe on his trailing his tail was fun, but watching him try and miss as he thwacked the ball on its net was even better. Unlike Ubbe’s well-proportioned body, he’s all long limbs and quick feet. Just the right combination to slip out of Ubbe’s grasp. Well, that was, until Ubbe tackled his ass onto the blades of grass, sending the both of them rolling through the grasp.
“Bro, really?!” Hvitserk laughs, dropping back onto the grass. The skid marks on his clothes would be unreal.
“If I can’t catch you,” Ubbe heaves, digging his hand into his pocket. He finds his phone there, vibrating with messages from Torvi: probably. Hvitserk shoves his arms behind his neck, drawing out breath after ragged breath.
“Wanna go eat?”
“Na,” Ubbe shoves himself onto your feet. “Your girl is here.”
His what? Ubbe rushes off. A sinking feeling came over his clammy hands. He opens his mouth to beg him not to go, to take him along with like he used to as a child. He’s terrible at making up and hours ago, he’d hung up on you. His lips press together, soothing himself with the false pretense that-- no, it would be fine. If you didn’t apologize, perhaps neither would he.
He finds you on the other side of the soccer field, fashioning his favorite sundress. There’s something glamorous about its corset bodice and its draped sleeves that left him breathless. He wills down his terrible arousal, drawn to the pendant he bought you nestled between your large breasts. You wait for him by his things, pulling the rim of a broad pale hat and looking down at beautiful chunky nude heels.
You’re beautiful and terrifying all in one. He regains himself enough to make his legs solidify from the liquidy mass they were seconds ago. He might feel much like a newborn calf falling over himself to get his things, but perhaps he looked better than he felt. Women like sweaty, stupid men, right?
“What are you doing here?” he picks up his things. “I thought you didn’t like to be seen in public.”
“You hung up on me,” you hold his tablet flush against your dress and offer it out to him. He takes it and secures it back in his bag. “I had to come to find you.”
“Yeah? I’ll bet.” Hvitserk wills down the painful throbbing behind his joggers, pulling his bag to obscure the pain he was in. The sooner he went home, the sooner he could jerk himself off without the overwhelming guilt of being, as he was, a whore. Why couldn’t he stay mad? He wanted to stay mad! “You look... nice. Never seen you looking so nice. What’s the occasion?”
“You like it?” You pull out the skirt and stop to do a twirl that he curses himself for stopping for. Normally, his girl wouldn’t even go outside. Who was this? He’s aware of others watching-- the fat girl in a flashy dress. “I wore it for you.”
“Yeah, I do.” He moistens his lips, his voice raspy and thick. “Looks like an angel.”
“Does that mean you’ll come back home?” You reach out for him. Your soft hands winding around his well-corded arm. He realizes then, the confidence in which you carried yourself masked the desperation in your hands. They trembled over his bicep. “I’ll be good, I promise I won’t yell at you again like that. I wouldn’t even be mad if you-- you found someone else to fuck. I know you-- I know you need it. If you can’t get it from me, I can wait on the side. As long as you’re not in love.”
“Hey,” he softened, settling his hand atop of yours. He stops midstep, turning on his high tops on the sidewalk. He takes your hands and listens waits for your outpouring of emotion. Traffic passes by him. They speak in hushed whispers. “Hey, hey, hey. Baby girl wait-- that’s not -- what are you talking about?”
“I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean to yell at you like that but you were pushing and pushing and wouldn’t stop! I didn’t know what to do. I want to have sex with you,” you squeeze his fingertips. “But you don’t know what it’s like to be fat, old virgin.”
He was trying to listen. He really was. The moment you spoke that word: that v-word, his mind went blank and numb. You’re still talking long after he’s stopped listening. Hvitserk sucks in a breath: it sends him into a flurry, pursuing the bone of your virginity long after you’ve stopped talking.
“What do you--” his lips twitch, drawing in a smile. “--mean a virgin?”
“I haven’t had sex-- I… I wanted to--”
His girl-- a virgin. He wants to smile, if not for the knowledge of the other night, waking up in Erika’s itchy sheets. Hvitserk knows that he has to tell you, he only doesn’t know how. You’re talking again.
“What did you say?” he asks.
“I want you to do it,” you answer. “Right now. Just forgive me.”
He about drops, a moistness coming over his mouth that he can’t-- exactly-- help. His palms feel just as hot, sweating as he pulls them free from yours. Clearing his throat, he slips his hand against the small of your back.
“Na, let’s… let’s take it easy. We’ll talk ‘bout it later.”
He wants that virginity.
But logically, oh woe is he, he knows it’s not really right to take someone’s virginity if they’re not all there. You’re not all there because you don’t know of that night. It’s like, consent, right? Bad consent was just jerking your ankle like some Viking and dragging you into bed with him. If he was going to do it, he told himself, you had to know what he’d done.
It was a slip-up.
Hvitserk finished another drawing for his new book independent of your input. It was a children’s book about good bodies-- because as he looked at your good body, he was reminded of Ericka’s cruel words. He wanted to do better for lil kids.
“Hvitserk, your phone is ringing,” you said pointedly from across the room where you sat like a madwoman. Your frantic papers sat nestled around a basket of shared chicken he made for lunch.
“Huh?” Tapping over, he recognizes Erika’s photo, planting a kiss on his cheek on his first big break. She had been the first one to really believe in him. It was a long time ago now, he reminds himself to change that to something more… suitable after last night. He gestures his fingers at you. “Thanks, baby girl.”
He answers the phone. The moment he does, he hears Erika’s flat voice snaking into a hiss. It’s a noise that he hasn’t heard. Not in all his years of having her as his patient agent.
“You’re with her, aren’t you?”
“No, I’m uh-- with Ubbe.” He throws you a glance. You tilt your head, he shakes his, and that’s the terrible loneliness of holding a secret. “Erika--” Hvitserk sighs, parting his lips to talk. She shushes him with such severity that he thinks she’s trying to lop his head off, too.
“Break it off.”
“What?”
He steps outside and leans against the cold metal door separating the high-rise apartments from, well, the outside world. He expects to see her standing out there. All he finds are the many cars parked on the street and the stillness of movement. It’s too quiet. The whistle of the wind through the street chills him.
“I know you’re with her. I can tell her for you if you’d like.”
“No. Don’t--” Hvitserk sighs, searching for the words in the silence. “I don’t think you understand. We worked through it.”
She laughs something from deep in her belly at him.
“I wasn’t asking. Either you do it— or I’ll make you do it. You obviously don’t know what’s best for yourself. Why else are you fucking around with some--” He collapses on the stairs, cradling the phone to his ear as she goes on. “Don’t think I won’t expose her for what she is. A thief.”
“She’s never-- Why the fuck are you doing this?”
“You told me you would take care of it. Something you’ve failed to do-- I should have known you couldn’t do it. ”
“If this shit is about yesterday--”
“I’ll give you one more chance to break it off if you come over tonight.”
“Are you blackmailing me?” There’s a pause on the other line. Then a chuckle. A long winded, painful chuckle. He should have known better. That night-- calling it an accident wasn’t exactly tolerable for a woman like Erika. She wasn’t the kind of woman who could be easily ignored.
“If that’s what I have to do.”
He chokes out a sob. Ivar was right. She wasn’t going to let him go.
❛ summary | in the aftermath of the attack, jonakr doesn’t react how you might expect. of course, that doesn’t mean you’re happy.
❛ warnings | mention of death, assault, angry hvitserk, elements of misogyny.
❛ sy’s notes | another chapter as requested by... i feel like @alicedopey did at some point.
x x x
A few stabs. Ten, fifteen, twenty swishes of an ill-fated blade. Maybe a hundred. It’s a great big blur of red-- of just how many times your sax met his limp body. Only that your blade snaps into two, leaving you clinging onto the handle of horn, shaking. A bloodied hunk of meat in your tower. The blood streams in rivulets from the puddle of blood freely, and as you stand, your miserable sobs break from your lips. Come tomorrow— Jonakr would see what you had done. You lack remorse for killing this man. But Jonakr… he was different from his brother. A man of honour.
You would feel for his loss. Even if this man— Valtýr sickened you to the bones.
On his belt, you find keys slippery with blood. Your fingers tremor, making quick work of the castle door. This doesn’t make sense— you tell yourself, why princes had to fight over someone who was so clearly not worth it. You were a daughter of slavery, no matter where you went, it chased you to the ends of the earth. You swing the door open. There you find Jonakr standing on the steps, his large fists turned over one another. Your one and only instinct— run.
You slip down the steps. He doesn’t dare, nor his men, to stop you.
Once out of the tower you found Hvitserk’s camp beside the brothers’ own. Your feet carry you within his camp despite the succession of voices shirking, like a woman in childbirth, within the tower. “Hvitserk,” their voices weave among one another. A thrall guides the flaps of his tent back. He sat with his cup to his lips, and he stops, jerking up to stand.
“What are you doing here?” he says.
“Clothes.”
“Why do you need--”
“Hvitserk,” you whirl about. “Please. His blood is seeping into my skin.”
“His blood?” Hvitserk prompts as if he could not articulate the gravity of the situation completely. He steps back, allowing for you to strip out of the sodden, iron dress. He lurches out to draw the flaps of his tent shut, barking your name.
“(Y/N),” he curses your name. You would too if you could. Curse the very day you were born. Because now you were here, living and breathing, knowing you want neither to live nor breathe for what you’ve done. The gods might see it as just, but all the same, your maiden’s dress is nothing to be thankful for. “What have you done?”
“Shut up Hvitserk! Shut up!” you pace, your fingers picking and lifting the matted down blood on your cheek. Hvitserk looks off to the flaps, then back to you, sweeping up a bucket of water. A cloth bobs in the water. He seizes it-- and brings it to your bloodied cheek.
“Stop just-- hold still. There, that’s it.” It’s cool by now. The water that had once been boiled and warm frosts your skin. In small circles, Hvitserk bides his time. The warm tears spilling over your cheeks help loosen up the blood.
“I killed him,” you say. “I killed Valtýr.”
Hvitserk remains silent, keeping to his work. His patient, caring eyes serve as the only indication that he heard you-- truly heard the tremble in your voice. “Jonakr will come to kill me next.”
“You know he won’t.”
But you wish he would. You wish he’d come put an axe through your head, because at least then-- for that split second of pain, there would be no more anxiety of knowing what might be coming next. That if you lived, who could tell what poor, awful man might treat you next? Hvitserk’s toy, the brothers’ little wife, and still-- what next? Hvitserk ran the cloth down your chin before walking to the roll of clothes over his makeshift bed. He unrolled a deep green tunic and offered it to you.
“It’s a little short,” he says, almost humorously, and helps you into it.
A knock at the wooden post is short-lived. Then, bending within the tent, you spot Jonakr. His large frame overwhelms the door, filling it like a great bear. Although, instead of charging forward, he tilts his head. Your lips part posed to say something, not for yourself. For his sorrowful eyes. Hvitserk shifts in front of you. Blood stains Jonakr’s muddy tunic red, painted in long streaks, as if by the god’s own hands. He holds up his hand to stop you from offering condolences. Or excuses.
“You needn’t do that. I’m not here for revenge,” Jonakr says, shifting his head to look around your shoulder. “I knew why he went to your tower. He told me what he planned to do.”
You glance up, staring at his large bloodied hands, then beyond him to the pale tend behind him. You wonder how it would look, bloodied, splattered. Take a step back. “What did he plan on doing?” Hvitserk prompts his question.
Jonakr ignores him, takes a step closer. “It’s not your fault.”
“Maybe,” you say noncommittally because there is no part of you that believes that. It’s a lie. Pain follows you like a second skin. Even now, the moments only hours ago feel like a distant dream, hazy like the blood over his belly. “But that doesn’t make him any less dead. You should do it-- you should…”
“No,” he says, a slight frown furrows his brow. “He wasn’t in his right.”
Wasn’t he? He said it himself. A woman wasn’t her own. She belonged to her countrymen. That was why what happened was such a sin. Your eyes flit back from the tent behind him, over to him, his eyes somehow cold and somehow warm all in one. He wasn’t looking at you but through you. Maybe some part of him was torn between what he wanted to do-- and what he couldn’t do.
“He wasn’t.” He repeats. “It… I’m is not right for a man to slaughter a woman. Whatever the reason, the gods chose you to live. I know you don’t want to marry me. Perhaps it isn’t… it… It’s better to let you go. I give you your freedom.”
Your arms fell at your sides, peering up toward him, astounded by the offer and perhaps, distrustful. You’re smart enough to know that a Viking didn’t mean his words. But a man like Jonakr is different. Perhaps he does not want to meet the wrath of the gods for killing an innocent woman.
Perhaps he was punishing you further by sending you back home. Back where Ivar the Boneless was with his corrupt rule. Where Thora would be stomping around, showing off the product of her beauty-- stealing away the man that you thought, and knew, and loved as yours.
“If that is decided, we pack to sail home,” Hvitserk readies his roll. At that moment, Jonakr turns, starting toward the door. Without thinking you rush forward, fisting Jonakr’s braid, and tug him back. Hvitserk drops what he works on, barking your name ostentatiously.
“What are you doing, woman?” he barks.
“Don’t you do that. Don’t you stand there and treat me like a lady after what I’ve done.” You bark out, snapping his braid around your fist tight. You rope it around your fist, forcing his head to your knuckles-- shaming him further. So what, you think, what have you to lose? Hvitserk calls out to you, your name rolling off his lips like a curse.
“Let him go.”
“I am not going back home to Kattegat. The gods-- they’ve shown me. I want to learn to fight. I want to be a shieldmaiden.” You snap your head toward him. His expression was soft as butter, and almost wounded, as if the same sax you ran Valtýr through with had turned upon him, carved his heart out. It was easy for him to make that face, you told yourself. He got all that he wanted. Thora, the fight, you. It all fell into place for him. Everything always fell into place for the sons of Ragnar.
“What are you talking about?” he asks.
You loosen your grip, allowing for Jonakr to stand upright, careful and measured he looks down upon you. “I am a warrior. I can’t show you to be a shieldmaiden. You would need the shieldmaiden Gunnhild.”
“Who is she?”
Hvitserk crosses the room, snatching your hand upon Jonakr’s hair, and forces your fingers to give. His voice is clipped and concise. Jonakr stands upright at your side. “I left her in Kattegat for you.”
“A shieldmaiden who left for Norway. She married an earl in York,” he continues. Your chest pulls, an excitement so distant and strange there, and Hvitserk rolls his eyes, carrying on as you return to Jonakr. An earl, you repeat, turning against him again. At that moment of a heavy heartbeat, Hvitserk grasps your waist, whirls you around.
“(Y/N), don’t do this. Come home, be with us. We can find a way. A shieldmaiden? You’ve never wanted to be a shieldmaiden.”
Perhaps its that instant. The instant your hand connected with his full cheek, blotching over, then caressing the space as if you never struck him. It’s that moment that you caress him, and purse your lips against his forehead, that he understands. His hold on your waist loosens. Disheartened, disenchanted. Somehow, he accepts it.
“You won’t do it.”
Your press your lips to his, cradling his jaw like an after thought. Tense in his surprise, Hvitserk brings a hand to your side,keeping you there in place against him. Your warm breath trickles over his lips between soft, sweeping kisses. His facial hair scratching you occasionally through the kiss. You begin to draw back when he tugs you forward again, maybe for the last time, with a kiss that simply pleads for more. For the time being, you humor his kiss, allowing him to take you in a way that’s light and soft. He pulls away, half-lidded, resigned.
❛ summary | having grown up in a world where there are no brothels, he finds them a mystery when he meets her in york. he comes to see her-- but its not always about sex.
There were no brothels at home. Thralls? Yes. Plenty and plenty of warm pussies he could buy. But nothing was cheaper, and more worth his coin, than the little brothel he came upon in York one day. Quivering little bodies who explained, quite willingly, that they were meant for the sort of work Hvitserk came to take them for.
So yanking her leg out really wasn’t necessary. But as he found out, she preferred a man that knew what she liked. Not politely giving coin but, deliciously being chucked over his shoulder and swept off like a man from raid coming home. And really... that’s what this was.
“Who you here to see this time, sweetheart?”
Hvitserk’s eyes scan over the woman, whose sloppy skirts are picked up over the spider veins that run up her shapely legs. She’s seen him before, no doubt. The woman has a tendency to pick on men she deems as worthy targets. Baby boys looking for a mommie. But he’s never had mommie problems-- or, none that he couldn’t handle.
He turns his head from her small, meager little hut toward a thatched roof with soft planks of wood to support it. It bore an iron door. Mainly because after his last visit, he claimed that the do. It opens and a farmer skitters out hiding his face as he goes. Likely didn’t want to tell his misses the shillings he burned.
“(Y/N), like usual.”
Hvitserk says to the pimp whose husband was busy with other duties. She looks him up and down, the cloak over his head obscuring his eyes and the worth of his sword. She could likely charge a fair and healthy price-- fifteen shillings, maybe even twenty for a prince like him. But one look and she knew who he was, a vikingr and dangerous territory.
“Five shillings then,” she says. “My girl will treat you good again. Best one I bore.”
“Twenty for the night.” Hvitserk drops the shillings in her hand. She stands aside to allow him to duck into the home. This space you shared with your other sisters is far from private. It’s barely sectioned off into three different rooms by modest curtains. You sat in your section wiping down the wooden bed. Then after cleaning yourself, you chuck the cloth into a bucket of cool water.
Hvitserk draws the curtains shut.
“Princess,” he draws out your fitting title.
You sit more properly when you hear that heavy accent. A Vikingr, sure, but your Vikingr to be correct. The red veil you meant to wear is sloppily thrown on the ground.
“Oh!” you laugh, “I’m hardly decent.”
“I’ve been waiting,” Hvitserk lurches forward, tipping you back upon the bed. You reach out and pull the cloak off his honey brown hair, skidding your hands over his shoulders and tightening there as he devours your neck in soft kisses unlike the attention given by other men. With no clothes on, his greedy hand palms over your flesh. The mop of his long brown hair trails lower then, forcing you to keep in place with a firm hand forming a collar around your neck.
He brings his other hand around your breast and opens his mouth around your nipple. His mouth closes over the delicate flesh there, suckling your nipple with soft force. Then tugs slightly as to hear you cry out. Hvitserk tweaks your nipple as he pulls off. Catching your eyes, his hand migrates lower over the expanse of your stomach toward wiry curls hiding your well-abused pussy.
You reach out, tightening over his shoulder, and stop him. “It’s not decent.”
You’re an illiterate prostitute whose cunt at this point probably reflected the amount of soiling done to it, but he feels little seed there when he pushes his fingers in. Just a smooth silkiness to your well used walls. While ignoring you, he stretches you open around his fingers. In your protest, you shut your legs as well as you can.
“I have enough coin to do what I want,” he says. It sounds acrid off his tongue-- and yet, well intentioned. “Open your legs.”
You cautiously obey him, opening so that he might see. Hvitserk slides down, spreading your lips apart in order to thrust his fingers smoothly. As much as you don’t want him to, his tongue soothes the motion along your lips. Almost making you excited-- but when he pulls his fingers clean, its almost as if he’s checking a well baked cake for batter. He smoothes the blood over the forest green sleeve of his tunic.
“You’re torn,” he observes, almost wounded.
“It’s typical.”
Not typical for him to press on when his woman was in pain. At least not his free women. Hvitserk shoves your legs together and climbs back up to lay beside you. You savour his arm sneaking behind your back, pulling you in.
“The men. They are big here?” Hvitserk asks, curious if it was overuse, roughness, or perhaps your lack of excitement that drove you to tear.
You snort. “If only. They’re short, stupid and-- annoying. They come here to whine about their wives or of King Alfred while being good, wholesome Christians.”
“That sounds right.” Hvitserk laughs as you reach for your dinner. A simple dinner of roasted deer and bread. It became obvious that he wasn’t going to force sex tonight. Your sore pussy was glad for it… though, you did miss him.
“Aescwine though,” you jerk your head to the side. A man that had been waiting patiently for his attention. “He enjoys it when I stand on his dick and beat his balls.”
“Oh-- ahh! Why would he do that?”
Hvitserk reaches down, cupping his hand on top of his privates. You laugh at his expense. It’s almost too cute the way he immediately assumes he’s next. You’ve not done it to anyone else. You take a bite of the leg and lead it up against his lips. “Some men like it. You could--”
“No,” Hvitserk takes a bite, shifting back to set his arm around you. He lays down with his eyes closed and you wonder how comfortable his armour was to sleep in. You turn over against him, walking two fingers over the scruff of his jaw.
“What are you thinking?” you ask.
“‘Bout you.” He answers. “How you never get pregnant.”
“I do,” you explain. “That’s what the pennyroyal is for.”
Then-- nothing.
Hvitserk takes some time to think on it. He’s asked you before how you came into this profession. Family business, you said. But a family business where your father and mother pimped their daughters out? Doesn’t seem right to him. But, again, Anglo-Saxon women weren’t free. They belonged to the men in the family more so than Norsemen.
It’s a great headache.
“You wanna learn to read again?”
And you smile behind greasy, roasted meat when he reaches back into his cloak, fetching the tablet and a small utensil used to scratch upon it.
“I’ve probably forgotten,” you smile. Hvitserk flips the tablet, offering it out to you. It’s his own language, but sometimes...
“So have I.”
“You’re so stupid,” you tease. But dropping your meat, you bring the tablet onto your lap and skim over what letters were already there. For a moment he admires the glitter in your eyes-- the delight you take in language. Even when you tear it apart.
