#harald | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

phenomenal1500 · 1 year

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~In The Gods' Favor~

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A/N: This is a combined request asked by three anons on Tumblr. I felt like these requests could fit together perfectly and I hope you all like it!

Summary: Reader is stuck in an arranged marriage with Harald and sees his scars by the Pechenegs for the first time.

Timeline: Season 2, after the Pechenegs.

Pairing: Harald Sigurdsson x Fem!Reader Warning: Smut, breeding kink, arranged marriage.

Sitting in the gorgeously decorated great hall in Kattegat, Y/N was watching the Norsemen feasting and celebrating because of her marriage with the new king of Norway. However, everything didn't sit right with her.

How could other people be happy at such a time but her?

She knew who she married. King Harald had made sure to meet and spend time with her before their marriage so she wouldn't feel overwhelmed marrying a stranger, but happiness? That she couldn't express at this hour.

Perhaps it was because she was closed off to new opportunities or perhaps because she had built a wall so she didn't have to let him in, but she simply couldn't be excited even though she had to admit the norseman was besides attractive also very lovely and caring.

"You're doing alright, sæta?" King Harald slowly dropped himself beside her on the small bench that she had been sitting on all evening now.

"I think I'm doing fairly well." She nodded and looked back at the exciting and hopeful crowd again.

"We're giving them hope." He whispered, laying his large hand on her lower back. "We must think about that."

"I've never been much of a leader." She admitted, for the first time not backing away or pushing his hand away either. Sooner or later things had to get more heated between the two so a simple loving touch didn't bother her so much anymore. "These people.. they aren't my people."

"After today they are, love." He slowly rubbed her back and tried to make her look at him. "They're as much my people as they are yours."

"Out of everyone, why me?" She finally pulled her eyes off the crowd and back to her husband.

"You seemed sweet and very quick-witted." He smiled. "And from the moment they introduced you, I knew you would stand by me proudly."

"I'm not standing anywhere yet." She may have already been royal before they married, but since she was the youngest of her sisters, she had never been taught how to be a proper queen. She didn't trust herself to lead a country yet.

"You will soon." He gently lifted her hand to his lips and gave the back of it a soft kiss. "Trust me when I say you were born for this."

"I trust you." She slowly nodded and had a slight blush on her cheeks.

"That's all that matters." He gently lifted her chin with his index finger before he closed the gap between them, catching her lips with his as he pulled her in for a slow passionate kiss.

"King Harald." She panted softly after she pulled away, cheeks even redder.

"Not the right moment?" He stroked her hair, letting her decide for herself if she wanted to continue the kiss. He wasn't going to force her into anything. That wasn't like him. If the kiss wasn't what she wanted, Harald would apologize right away.

"No, it's not that." She cleared her throat nervously, but instantly relaxed in his touch. "However, perhaps we should go somewhere more private?"

"Is that really what you wish for, Y/N?" He whispered, cupping her face with his hands.

"I think so." She was a bit uncertain, but she preferred some alone time with the man anyway. The crowd only made her feel more pressured to show forced love to him, and if the traditions were true, after the wedding celebrations six people would accompany them to their bridal bed and she would rather experience things alone with him before that.

"Come on then, sæta." He got up and held out his hand which she took without any hesitation.

She wanted to be out of there badly and especially if it meant exploring her feelings with him before anyone would witness it.

She couldn't imagine how forced and hurried that would be like.

The king brought her to their now shared bedroom, helping her inside before he closed and locked the door so no one could get in and harm them. "You're certain about this my queen?" He questioned again, just to reassure himself that she wanted this too and he wasn't forcing her into anything. He had been raised to respect and care for his women, no matter if it was an arranged marriage and they had to by tradition.

For him and a lot of other Norsemen, unlike the men from England, it was important both sides wanted this.

"Yes, I'm sure of my decision, Harald." She smiled a little, feeling soothed by the way he made sure she was okay with such a thing at all times.

"Come over here, gorgeous~." He returned the sweet smile and watched the woman obey him, carefully closing the gap between them herself now.

Right when she took the last step towards him, she could feel his warm lips on hers again. Tongue playfully exploring her mouth, he sneaked his arms around her thighs and picked her up that way, holding her close to him.

She had to admit it made her feel feelings she never thought she was capable of feeling and here she was, experiencing them with a man she actually started to desire.

"My king~?" She blushed and cupped his face, staring deeply into his darkened eyes filled with lust.

"You're allowed to only say my name, Ketta. You are my wife, not an unknown person to me." He spoke against her lips softly and she nodded.

"Harald~?" She licked her lips slowly to taste more of him when he carefully laid her down on her back.

"What is it?" He made sure to caress every inch of her body, starting with kissing her shoulders as he unlaced the laces of her dress located between her breasts. It instantly made her feel flustered, but didn't stop him and he didn't stop either.

Lust was slowly taking over~ they needed each other badly.

"I desire you." She felt her heart speed up a bit when he took off her dress more with every kiss. It even doubled its speed when his hands and lips finally found her breasts, fingers trailing up and down her breasts before rolling her hardened nipples between his fingers and kissing the valley between them. It instantly caused a strange sensation in her body and she suddenly felt the wet heat worsen between her legs.

"I desire you too, ketta." He muttered against her soft skin, hands moving down to her sides and down to her hips as he pushed the fabric further down.

There she was, bare and open to him.

He had to admit it made his cock grow solid in his trousers right away when he saw her gorgeous body, but he was holding himself back and keeping himself calm.

He wasn't a quick-fuck type of guy, he wanted to treat her like the queen she was.

Despite how he felt about how beautiful she was, she herself was slightly anxious. Nobody had ever seen her without clothes, let alone this vulnerable too, and especially after he slowly spread her legs.

"All I'm asking of you is to loosen up and let me take care of her, sæta, that way it'll feel the best." He ran his fingers over her wet pussy lips to worship it gently and pulled his hand back again. He knew he had to be careful with her and that's why he needed her to relax for him.

"I'll try my best, Harald." She mumbled, nibbling on her lower lip as he suddenly got on his knees in front of her. "What~ what are you doing?"

"It's okay, my love~." He reassured her as his lips touched her inner thigh, giving it sloppy wet kisses as he trailed his way up to the place that needed to be touched the most.... The place that was aching and begging for nobody but his touch.

"Please." She panted softly, letting the small beg roll of her tongue before she could stop herself. She honestly didn't really know what she was begging for, but it made him chuckle and before she knew it he was giving her clit a loving kiss too. Her chest immediately went up and down faster because of it and the pleasure that shocked through her body increased especially when he wrapped his lips around it and gently started to suck.

That brought her to Valhalla right away.

"Mmhmm~." Y/N arched her back, loving the new delightful feelings as he licked her up, giving her wet pussy long and slow licks before going back to sucking. "Harald~."

"I know, ketta." Harald growled, his hands stroking her inner thighs as he dove right back into her ocean. "I know it feels good." He spoke straight into her core, her whole body shivering because of it.

He needed her ready for him.

He needed this to feel good for her.

Lifting her legs and resting them over his shoulders, he licked her insides a little faster. He wanted her pretty pink pussy more than soaked and ready to take all of him and in no time her legs were already shaking.

He knew she was close, but unfortunately for his beautiful wife he wasn't going to make her cum so soon.

Harald pulled back, his beard covered in her juices, but he didn't care. His eyes landed on his wife again, her pretty eyes filled with lust and her cheeks having this cute red tone, she was so precious to him. "You prefer to have all of me?"

"Yes. I would love to have all of you." She smiled after she managed to get out of her stunned embarrassed state. This was all new to her and seeing him this shameless was unusual so of course it was normal she had to get used to the barefaced activities.

She slowly sat up though and actually managed to help her husband take off his armor before her eyes suddenly landed on the horrifying scars on his chest.

"What happened...?" She raised her hand and carefully outlined them with her fingers.

"It happened before I was crowned king of Norway. A man named Vitomir promised to pay me and my friend Leif a lot of treasure if we could deliver something to the emperor in Constantinople." He proudly explained while he unlaced his trousers. "But there were many Pecheneg camps settled along the shores we sailed."

"Pechenegs...?" Her eyes shot up to his deep hazel ones, staring at him with a slightly dropped jaw.

If there was anything she heard about Pechenegs, it was that they were extremely violent, well, they loved giving their enemies a tough time.

It was a wonder Harald was still alive.

"Yes, Pechenegs." He nodded and crawled on top of her in a hot way, his hands resting on either side of her head to keep his body weight off of her. "The cowards pierced my skin and string me up by my chest to see how much it would take for me to beg for mercy, but I never did."

Y/N listened closely to the king, but actually focused more on the ugly scars.

"Do they still hurt..?" She pushed herself up on her elbows to kiss each scar.

"No, neither do my muscles." He kissed her forehead. "So do not worry about me. We're not here together and bare to worry about my injuries."

"I know." She suddenly blushed again when she felt his hard cock pressing against her thigh. She then wrapped her arms around his neck while her legs spread some more on their own to make room for him between them. "I can feel that we aren't here for that."

"You want it~?" He teased playfully, rubbing his tip between her wet folds which got her body squirming with need.

"Yes, please Harald." She begged, her eyes never leaving his as he grabbed her hand and brought it down to touch his perfectly curved cock.

God, he would be able to hit every spot so well.

"Guide him, love." He let her feel around his already rock hard cock, jerking him a little, and he loved the way she was too embarrassed to look down at what she was doing. It was adorable.

"Guide him...? I don't know how." She whispered, glaring down for a second as he gave her a hint, pressing his tip softly against her tight entrance.

It made her bite her lip, nervous at the sight of him so close to her dripping pussy.

"Right there, guide him in ketta." He whispered in her ear, kissing her neck afterwards while she slowly guided him inside of her tight entrance.

Harald could feel her body protest by the unfamiliar stretch, but he could also tell she wanted this so badly by the way her walls were clenching and throbbing around his big cock.

Slowly, he moved his hips forward into hers, feeling her pussy trying to adjust to just his thick tip as she closed her eyes.

"How are you feeling, love?"

"Wonderful, strange, a slight sting as well perhaps?" She named everything she was experiencing so he could understand what she was feeling and his large hands rubbed her hips to help her body relax again.

"It'll feel like Valhalla soon." He groaned deeply, his cock sinking deeper inside of her while she nuzzled his neck. "And the more we do this, sæta, the better it'll feel for her."

"Really~?" She smiled and gasped when Harald repositioned her hips to a different angle that made his cock go deeper.

"Yes~ and if the gods are in our favor, we might be granted lots of children as well." He wrapped one of his arms around her arched back to keep her that way while he thrusted a bit faster, the curve of his cock brushing against her spot perfectly over and over again.

"I'd love to have your children one day." She moaned softly, tightening her walls around him.

"I know you do." He smirked and reached down between their sweating bodies, fingertips stroking that small bundle of nerves to help send her over the edge. "It's alright, ketta~ let it go and give me what I want so I can give you my seed and have you bear my children."

Her body began to shake by his words and she couldn't suppress her loud moans anymore. This feeling, the feeling that was so right and wrong at the same time was just too enjoyable.

She and her body couldn't take much more of it honestly.

Inhaling deeply, the woman gave into the strange yet delightful feeling and finally the knot of pleasure exploded, the wonderful feelings coursing through her entire body as she clung to her husband.

"Harald~ oh gods." She smiled and panted, feeling his cock twitch against her spot before he came deep inside of her and coated her tight walls with his seed.

"You felt so perfect, my queen." He buried his face on the crook of her neck, leaving short loving kisses there while he slowly thrusted his cum deeper into her.

"So what now, my king?" She spoke softly not to interrupt the peace they both felt and he carefully pulled out.

"We go back to the feast and make sure we do this again at the end of our wedding~ hoping my seed will take soon." He smiled and gently helped her stand up so he could redress her.

#harald hardrada #harald sigurdsson #Harald #Harald sigurdsson x reader #vikings valhalla #vikings imagine #requests #smut #fluff #angst #slight breeding kink #arranged marriage #in the gods’ favor

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viking-chaos · 4 months

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Harald Sigurdsson | Leo Suter Vikings: Valhalla | 2.03

#vikings valhalla #vikings: valhalla #vikings valhalla gifs #vikingsvalhallaedit #vikingsedit #perioddramaedit #harald sigurdsson #harald #leo suter #mine: ps #vv 2x03 #ttp-eligifs

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author-morgan · 9 months

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i see your requests are open!! can you do something sweet with Harald? (and Halfdan if you’re comfortable with polyamory!)

Of courseeeee. Here is some Harald fluff (with a pinch of bittersweetness and angst). I was going to have this be polyamorous (bc those two come as a pair more often than naught in my fics lbr lol), but once I got started it just turned into something more Harald-centric. Hope you don't mind! (I went a little overboard for him again) Harald Finehair x fem!Reader

HALFDAN THE BLACK is the first to enter Tamdrup’s great hall upon returning from a successful raiding season. The doors swing open wide, and those gathered for the tribunal part, making way for the victorious. Rising from the seat of power, you go to him with open arms, smiling. “I see you brought my husband back,” you muse, watching Harald enter the hall at last, surrounded by a score of rowdy warriors and overjoyed denizens—rightfully so, they have returned with riches and have lost fewer than a dozen warriors during the raids.

“I fear what you would do if I didn’t,” Halfdan laughs, tossing down a heavy coin purse on the table before taking you into his arms.

“It is always good to see you again,” you smile, kissing your marriage-brother’s cheek. He is inclined to agree. After long days at sea and many weeks away, it is good to be greeted by a fair and familiar face such as yours. Halfdan clasps your shoulder as he steps around you, pouring himself a cup of mead—leaving you to his brother. “Harald,” you greet, and the hall falls silent as he approaches you.

His breath catches as he beholds you, standing before him regal as ever with a gifted silver circlet resting upon your brow. His wife. His queen. His heart. It is as though the rest of the world falls away when he stops before you, rough hands cradling your face with the gentlest of touches. “By all the gods” —he strokes his thumbs over your cheeks— “you’re even more beautiful than I remember.”

Harald’s kiss is slow and soft—save for the familiar scratch of his beard against your cheek and jaw—and speaks of the months of longing to return to your loving arms. You kiss him like you’ve done a thousand times before, falling into the rhythm as though you never parted. Your fingers comb through his beard as you part, foreheads resting together, but then your smile widens as you wrap your arms around him, holding him tight. “I’ve missed you,” you breathe. But now he’ll be yours again until the next raiding season comes.

THE WHEEL OF time does not slow, and the harvest season fades into winter and then to the first buds of spring. Nigh all the Vestfold gathered in Tamdrup tonight for the feast to celebrate sowing the first seeds of the new crop and seasoning the turned soil with sacred blood. But that is not the only reason the jarls and fighting men have come all this way. In the coming weeks, Harald, Halfdan, and anyone else willing to sail will make their way to Frankia to raid Paris with Ragnar Lothbrok. Festivities last long into the night, but Harald comes to you soon after you take leave.

He draws lines over the length of your spine as you lay with him, head pillowed on his chest, listening to the slow rhythmic beat of his heat, bare legs entwined, but then you twist in his arms and lean up to kiss him—featherlight and sweet as the mead still on his breath—fingertips following the blue-black scrollwork of his tattoos. Then he tilts his head back, letting you trace the curving lines on his neck and down to the ones on his chest—only your touch could ever make him tremble.

“Paris?” You repeat, following one of the silver scars on his ribs with your fingertips. He’s spoken of the city to the south and of Ragnar Lothbrok before, but with the night’s feast, it became official. Come the spring, he would prepare his ships and set sail to join the farmer-turned-king on his second venture to Frankia.

“Yes,” Harald says, his voice a low rasp. He sees it in your eyes, a flicker of hope that maybe this time you will sail with him and his brother—that you will be able to visit the distant lands so many speak of—but now is not the time for you to venture into the unknown. Your life is not something he can risk so easily and carelessly. Harald curls his hand around yours, then kisses the center of your palm and holds your hand close to his chest. “I need you here, my heart,” he tells you, but you already know that.

“I’ll plan a feast and a sacrifice before you and Halfdan depart,” you tell him—it is what any good queen and wife would do to see her husband and people return safe and with victory. And then he takes your lips and your breath, holding you close. You sigh into his mouth, letting his tongue brush yours, fingers slipping back into his unbound hair. His kiss is reverent, and you cannot help but miss the cracked softness of his lips against yours when he parts, but it is only so he can hold you in his arms.

TEN DAYS AFTER Harald Finehair first sets sail to Kattegat, his brother and the remainder of the fleet are ready to follow. The last of the barrels and crates are being rolled and loaded into the longships when you arrive on the docks to bid everyone farewell and good fortune on their journeys. Six hundred men and shieldmaidens from the Vestfold have gathered over the last two moons, all to leave on this day to join Ragnar Lothbrok in his endeavors—but Tamdrup will feel empty without their presence. Though, there is already a newfound hollowness in the wake of Harald’s departure.

You find Halfdan amongst the chaos, checking the yellow-red shields secured on the side of one of the ships. “Halfdan,” you call, and he turns on heel to face you with a half-bow—nigh teasing in nature, but you are, after all, his queen. Before he can stand upright, you reach out and rest your hands on his cheeks, and he bends a little farther, accepting the kiss you bestow upon his brow. “Be safe,” you tell him, hands moving to clasp his. “Look after your brother.”

Halfdan squeezes your hands. “You know I will,” he assures you. That is something you’ll never have to worry about—the bonds of blood and brotherhood run deep. You nod, and he steps back down into the longship. At your hest, they will set sail for glory and, if the gods deem it so, Valhalla.

One of your attendants hastens to the dock, stepping forward to present the gift commissioned from the blacksmith and jeweler—it's meant to be a surprise in celebration of another year of marriage, but alas, such care and detail took longer than expected. It’s a necklace of bronze and silver with a pendant shaped into the likeness of Mjölnir clasped in the mouths of two silver dragonheads on a chain of alternating links. “It was not finished before Harald left,” you explain, placing the necklace in Halfdan’s palm. “Give it to him, please.” Halfdan nods. “And all my love.”

RESOUNDING HORNS ANNOUNCE the return of Harald Finehair’s fleet in the dark hours of the evening. You rise from bed and make haste to the docks—handmaids following close behind with slippers and a cloak, but decorum is the least of your concerns. So few have returned, you think, counting the dwindling number of ships gathered compared to how many set off. The first wave departs one of the docked ships, and there is no air of triumph in those who press past you—eager to return to home and hearth and for solid ground beneath their feet. “Harald!” You call as he steps from the longship and onto the dock.

But he does not embrace you as he normally would after such a long voyage, and the spark in his stormy blue eyes is faded. It is only when you see who the men are carrying off the ship on a crude stretcher do you understand the cause of your husband’s sullen mood. “Halfdan,” you breathe, looking between him and Harald. You step to your marriage-brother and lift the pelt of fur covering his torso, grimacing—the wound at his shoulder is a festered, blackish mess, and the sweat on his brow in the first chill of winter speaks of the fever that’s set in during the return voyage.

You turn to one of your handmaids. “Call on Mjöll,” you instruct, “quickly.” The years have seen you clean and bind both Harald and Halfdan’s wounds, but this is far beyond your skill, and an herbalist will be needed to call Halfdan back from the cusp of the next life. The girl nods and sets off to the healer’s hut. Looking back at the stretcher-bearers, you point up the way to the great hall. “Take him to the great hall.” In such a state, Halfdan will need several pairs of watchful eyes.

Dark shadows cast from torchlight and iron braziers shroud Harald’s expression—he does not understand how it is you can stand with so much equanimity when faced with such loss. Harald steps to you, and his shoulders fall, then wordless, he slumps into your arms, resting his forehead on your shoulder—another weight you must bear—hands twisting into the fabric of your pale linen shift. You smooth your hand over his back, following the length of his braid-bound hair. “I thank the gods you have returned to me, my love,” you breathe, unwilling to let him part just yet.

Mjöll works to prepare a cataplasm of moss and herbs into the hours of the night, and you kneel at the prepared pallet of fur and pillows, placing a cool, damp rag upon Halfdan’s brow. There is little else you can do for your marriage brother besides trust the herbalist’s remedies, pray to the gods, and hope they are merciful. Mjöll nods for you to leave and tend to your husband. She and her apprentice will care for Halfdan.

He is pacing the length of the foot of the bed when you enter your shared chambers—hands flexing into fists at his side. You step into Harald’s path, hands going to the ties and buckles of his leathern armor. “If the High One truly sought Halfdan’s company,” you tell him, setting aside his vambraces before turning back, “he would already be feasting in the Halls of the Slain.”

To Harald, it is poor consolation but consolation all the same. And deep down, he knows you are right. Shrugging off his worn and stained tunic, he goes to the washbasin and splashes water on his face and chest, scrubbing away a mix of sweat and salt spray, and blood too. Harald returns to sit at your side on the bed—he stares ahead at the flickering flames of tallow candles. “What happened?” You finally dare ask.

“The magic of Ragnar Lothbrok failed,” he tells you. The lingering taste of defeat is bitter on his tongue—the gods had forsaken them on that river, had forsaken Ragnar. As it happened to be, he was just like any other man. “We were humiliated and pushed out of Frankia with nothing to show for it.” He does not remember the last time he returned to Tamdrup, to you, with nothing to show for his travels. It will take time for the Vestfold to recover from such a defeat.

You touch his cheek, fingers combing through his unkempt beard, drawing his gaze to you. “You live, as does your brother.” The rancor in his expression falters, his jaw unclenching, and he leans into you—his nose just barely bumping against yours. Yes, he and Halfdan escaped with their lives. That is more than can be said for many who embarked on the journey to Paris. Ragnar Lothbrok may have lost the favor of the gods, but they still smiled upon Harald and his brother. “That is enough for me,” you say, softly. He kisses you then, and you meld against him with a sigh and a slight smile that he can feel on your lips.

HE SITS ON his throne—slouched to the side and staring into the abyss, twisting his shark-tooth crown in his hands. Your king has returned, yet still, it is only you shouldering the weight of the kingdom. You stop at the dais and extend your hand toward him. “Walk with me.” It is not a request. Harald rises and follows.

The path through the forest is well-worn, both into the Earth and memory. It carves a winding route through the forest and up bare rock to a promontory overlooking Tamdrup and the mouth of the fjord—a place you frequent to look for sails on the horizon when the men are away, a place where Harald promised he would marry you one day what now feels like a lifetime ago.

But the morning fog has yet to lift from the land, just as the fog of bitterness in the aftermath of what happened in Paris has yet to lift from your husband and king. There has been no feast to honor the memory of those lost since his return several days ago and no promise or mention of what comes next for the Vestfold. It is as though he is lost in despair, mourning his brother already despite the day-by-day recovery—just yesterday, Halfdan’s fever broke.

You sit atop one of the boulders there on the promontory. There’s space enough for him to join you, but, for a moment, he lingers and stares. In the morning the light and mist, you seem like one of the winged women—ethereal. A sight that makes his heart twist and ache given the dark thoughts and mood which have taken hold of him since returning to Tamdrup.

Harald sits next to you and hangs his head, letting his hand rest on your thigh—a gentle weight and warmth. “I fear I have not been a good husband,” he confesses. It is never an easy thing for a prideful man to admit weakness and accept his faults, less so for a king. But the failed siege, his brother’s injury, and the long months spent away from you, from home, have been a heavy weight on his heart.

It does not feel right, leaving you time and time again, each longer than the last, to rule over his lands and care for his people—duties which are his. But you rule so fairly, and his people love you for it. “I have left you too often,” he breathes, a new softness and the tremble of guilt in his voice. “And I have left you to carry a burden meant to be shouldered by two backs” —his hand runs across your shoulders, down your spine— “not one.”

You never expected being wife to a king—being a queen—would be easy. Least of all, the wife of an ambitious man with dreams of uniting Norway under a single crown. Harald Finehair is vikingr. To deny him that would be to deny his true self, and even on the loneliest and coldest of nights, you could and would never ask him to be anything other than who he is—the man you love.

“I knew what was expected of me” —you card your fingers through his beard, the first tinges of silver beginning to appear, and he can find nothing but underserved doting affection in your soft gaze— “of you, when we married.” Harald covers your hand with his own, the rough pads of his fingers pressing into your palm as his hand curls around yours, a sigh on his lips. “And I happily said yes, remember?”

He remembers the day you married well—the crown of spring wildflowers you wore, the blood-tinged kiss after exchanging rings, the bridal race with Halfdan and your cousins tripping over one another to get to the mead hall first. It is still the happiest day of his life—tied with every other day the gods let him wake up beside you.

Shifting, you lean your forehead against his and gently slip your hand free from his. “You will always have my love and support, wherever you may be.” Harald closes his eyes and curls his hand around the back of your neck, thumb stroking the soft skin beneath your ear. And you press your hand against the center of his chest—feeling the outline of the Mjölnir necklace under your palm. “And I will be here or at your side,” you tell him, a soft whisper dancing over his lips, “wherever you need me to be.” And now he’s certain—you are too good to him.

[Harald-Halfdan taglist: @ahotmesswithprivilege / @alicedopey / @certifiedlittleshit / @charming-merlin / @elluvians / @erzsebetrosztoczy / @gearhead66 / @gossamarnie / @hc-geralt-23 / @hereforreadandwrite / @moonlightsspirit / @morganamayne / @mrsragnarlodbrok / @n0sferatus / @naaladareia / @queenyalo / @rigshak / @savagemickey03 / @xinyourdreamsx / @yalos-writing ] if your name is italicized, tumblr would not let me tag you. if you’d like to be added to my Murder Bro taglist, or any other taglist, just let me know with this Google Form! if I missed you, I am sorry! but make sure to mention it in the replies or fill out the linked Google Form!

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woahhhgwendolyn · 11 months

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Being Haralds Woman Would Include...

Being his woman would almost feel unreal because of all the things he does for you and also give to you. He loves to spoil you with things because of the money he has. He loves to surprise you with wonderful jewelry and new dresses almost all the time (He would love to get new dresses just to show off your breasts because he just loves them so much, and he technically has to get you new dresses a lot because he seems to always rip them off you when you two are trying to have sex.) He loves complimenting you all the time as well. He just loves seeing you smile and get shy. That is another thing he loves, is you getting shy. He will purposely say something sexual or even do something sexual to you in public and loves to watch you get shy and nervous. He even likes to see you get shy when he just says he loves you in public. being his woman has multiple perks but the only downside of him being king of all Norway would be that he is gone a lot and has meetings a lot as well during the days and nights. But of course he always makes it up to you in the end because he would hate for you to dislike him or hate being in the relationship with him. He loves you way to much to lose you in any way.

#harald finehair #harald x reader #norway #harald #scandanavia #harald fairhair #harald fairhair x reader #viking #vikings #imagines #norse #nordic #king harald #king of norway #his woman #vikings imagines #vikings headcanon #vikings harald #viking imagine

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lasaraconor · 1 year

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#sofya lebedeva #eleana #leo suter #harald #vikings valhalla #vv #gif

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jellybeeans · 9 months

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#YGOrarepairweek2023 Dia 1 - Doces/Sobremesas!

#YGOrarepairweek2023 #Yugioh #yugioh 5ds #ygo harald #ygo dragan #YGO #YGO 5DS #arte #art #fanart #chibi #Harald #Dragan #Team Ragnarok

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livyshmivvy · 1 month

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#man buns #harald x leif in a hot bath is my dream date not gona lie #harald #lief #freydis #vikingsedit #vikings valhalla #perioddramaedit #vikingsvalhallaedit #leo suter #freydis eriksdotter

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therealvikingstrash · 1 year

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#vikings #harald finehair #harald #halfdan the black #halfdan #vtrash gifs #vikings history #vikingsedit #S04E05 #I just thought their reunion was wholesome

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aikaterini-drag · 1 year

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HD gifs inspred by a scene from Chapter 18 of my Viking story “Bleeding Hearts” on AO3. Harald Sugurdsson watching his wife from afar, brimming with affection. That smile at the end though...

Link to the story can be found on my pinned profile post. Follow for more story updates!

#vikings #vikings valhalla #vikings: valhalla #harald #harald sigurdsson #vikings harald #prince harald #harald hardrada #prince harald sigurdsson #vikings valhalla season 1 #leo suter

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underragingwaves · 2 years

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#vikings #vikingsedit #vikings history #harald finehair #halfdan the black #harald #halfdan #urwcreates

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lilacwineandthesinkingsun · 2 years

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To be in the favor of Gods... PART 2.

AN: I got back into Vikings. AAAABSOLUTELY obsessed w the Ragnarssons ofc... who isn't?

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT: PLEASE SCROLL AWAY! THIS IS NOT FOR YOUR EYES.

Part 1 here.

Bjorn leaned close to your brother, looking after Aslaug's retreating form, taking you away. You take one last look at your brothers over your shoulders.

-It was a mistake bringing her here. - he said.

-It was a mistake your brother dared to touch her. - Harald answered, jaw clenching.

When the door closed behind you and Aslaug, the music resumed in the hall.

-Tell me one good reason not to cut your throat. - Aslaug threatened.

You smirked when you thought about your standing here.. Now that the secret is out, you were untouchable, the most valuable thing.

-Well you see my queen.. in the upcoming raids with my brothers i suppose you would like to know if they will be succesful or not, will you lose any of your sons or not.. will your fears become simple facts in the future... The gods speak through me, they speak way clearer than with any of the seers, any of the priests. I may only tell what the gods allow me to tell, but i assure you you need me more than i need any of you.

She dropped the knife. It was true, they needed you.

-One may find comfort in not knowing one's future. I'll say this my queen. If you do wish your son a happy life, you wont ask what did i see, for you'd easily change the course of it. - you said before leaving the room.

As you opened the door an anxious man stood there. Ubbe. He lifted his hand, he wanted to say something. But you just passed him to join your brothers. Just as you entered the great hall, Ragnar stopped you, looking for any signs of his wife offending you. One drop of blood rested on the smallest cut on your neck. He gently wiped it with his finger and licked it.

Suddenly his blue eyes swirled, he saw what you saw, when he touched you. He saw himself laying in a dirty pit, filled with snakes. You could not tell the year, you could not tell if he aged when it happened. But you both saw his death. He cupped your face.

-The secrets that must plague you dear (Y/n), it is not an easy life, is it? May the gods bless your strong spirit... -he said before planting a small kiss on your forehead.

Ubbe caught up with you, but his father stopped him. You sat inbetween your brothers. You know that after this you'll leave in the morning. They may even risk raiding separately. It is not often you are able to be free, to enjoy life. They know that most of the things you see plague you. They haunt you in your dreams. If there would be a guarantee, you'd be selfish enough to marry just to lose your abilities, but your home, your family is more important. You cannot let what you've seen become true. You'd lose everything.

The next morning you are standing in the front of your ship when Halfdan comes up behind you.

-What's bothering you (Y/n)?

-You cannot take me to the raid.

-Nonsense, we need you. Why would you say that?

-We need to eliminate the possibility of me meeting that man again. - was all you said, but he understood.

-I'll talk to Harald. -he said before retreating to the back of the ship.

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A month later you are standing on the edge of an open field. Both your brother and Ragnar refused to let you stay back. You kept to yourself and your tent, only talking when giving advice and the needed prophecies to win the battle.

You crouch down, taking a handful of the grass and earth, smelling it before looking up to the sky.

-You need to divide. They are prepared to attack from 3 sides, you cannot go in there with all the men and women for you'd just be needlessly slaughtered. Wait it out. Let a small group go in first, then as they come, circle them, give them some of their own medicine. - you smirked at them, as Harald gave your forehead a kiss, letting you back to your tent. They didn't let you fight if it wasnt neccessary. You were one of the greatest shieldmaiden, but also the most important now.

Ubbe looked after you as you retreated. Ragnar slapping his shoulder.

-You cannot eye here like that son. Do you not see how her brothers stare daggers at you? She is someone one can't have.

-There is just something about her that...

-There is everything about her... i get it, i was like that with your mother as well. But she is different, she has her brothers.. You must forget her.

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Whrn the battle is won, and the feast is at it's peak, you are sitting outside alone, silently sobbing. Bjorn comes out, he first wanted to let you cry out there alone, but then his heart got the better of him.

-What's wrong (Y/n)?

You looked up at him with tears in your eyes.

-I laugh and i cry, and i'm haunted by things i never meant nor wished to say.

-I-i don't underst.... - he said but you cut him off by cupping his face.

-You must protect your brothers and father tomorrow. They will be careless, you musnt let todays victory be tomorrows funeral. When the time comes, save them, do not thing of anybody else. Nor me, nor my brothers. Just them. I need you to promise me Bjorn.

-I.. i promise. - he said with a sigh. He sat with you until dawn, in silence. You stood up to retreat to your tent, as a thank you, you slowly kissed his cheek. Wishing, praying to the gods to make him strong enough to keep his promise.

The gods didn't let you know much about todays battle, only that you told Bjorn. You had seen you will be taken, your family injured. You knew they wouldn't listen to you, you had to save as much as you could. The battle was in full motion, when Bjorn took a look back at the camp, soldiers were taking you. He stood there watching, remembering what he promised you hours before. The king must have caught word of your abilities. Your brothers sprinting towards you as you plead for them to go back. Ubbe and Ragnar steps closer too, but Bjorn stops them.

When it was over Ubbe ran up to him, drawing his sword in anger.

-HOW COULD YOU LET THEM TAKE HER?

Bjorn just stood there motionless, in silence. Head hung low.

Ragnar stopped Ubbe's sword just as he was about to slash Bjorn.

-I know you are angry son, but this is NOT the way..

Bjorn took a spear and broke it on his leg before throwing it in the direction they took you.

-You think i didn't wanna save her? Hours ago she made me promise with tears in her eyes that no matter what i see, i'll protect you, and only you, for she knew i couldn't stop his brothers. SHe must have seen this coming.

-AND NOW SHE'LL DIE AT THEIR HANDS. - Ubbe said before walking away.

-We need to get her back. - Ragnar said already thinking of negotiating with Ecbert.

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A month later Ragnar, Lagertha, Floki and Bjorn were sitting around a table with King Ecbert and his bishop. You were in a simple, dirty gown, chained at the feet of his throne. Your skin where they could see was bruised, you lost weight for they didn't give you much to eat.

-A feisty whore you have here Ragnar, i know of her gifts, but she refuses to help me regardless of the punishments. If she wasn't so valuable to you i would've burned her already.

-King Ecbert, i came to propose a deal.

-I'm listening.. - he said intrigued.

-You let her come with us, and we leave your lands. -your eyes shot up, silently pleading for them not to, which ended in a knight slapping you so hard, you lost consciousness.

-You leave my lands, and i'll let her go... Seems like a reasonable exchange if she is really worth that much to you.

The bishop cut in.

-Sire i still think we should burn the witch, for the Holy God is upset with us, negotiating with the heathens.

-There will be no burning bishop, we take her and leave first light.

-Fine. - Ecbert said as he motioned with his hand to release you from the chains. You tried to stand up, to take that few steps towards your people, but you couldn't. As you braced for the impact, it never came, instead you were caught in Bjorn's hands, carrying you princess style.

In the safety of his arms, you let yourself sleep in peace for the first time in months. When you woke up, you were in your tent, heavy arms around you, heat on your face. You clinged to him so hard, he couldn't let you go, so here you were, waking up with your face to his chest, laying on your sides on the soft furs. When he felt you stir, he held you closer.

-Rest, i won't do anything. - he murmured, gently caressing the back of your head. That's when he heard small sniffles.

-I... i couldn't do anything.. i ... the god's don't talk to me anymore..

-They letting you rest, for you sacrificed yourself for us. - he said before looking at your face, caressing the bruises.

As you let him do it, the gods showed you pictures of his future, the first thing you saw after a month was you in his arms, naked, kissing passionately as he whispered words of love and protection, you saw a wedding, with a faceless bride, her white dress soaked in blood. Your eyes shot up to him as you tried to put some distance between you two. He knew you saw something, but knre better than to ask.

-It's alright, i won't ask. Come, rest a bit more, i promise i'll be gone when you wake up next. - he said as you settled in his arms once again.

#harald #halfdan #ubbe ragnarsson #ubbe x you #ubbe x reader #bjorn ragnarsson #bjorn ironside #bjorn x you #bjorn x reader #ragnar #ragnarsson #vikings

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phenomenal1500 · 1 year

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~Princess Of England~ | Part 2

Masterlist

A/N: Thank you Kath4y0u for requesting Part 2 of Princess Of England! ♥️ Hope you guys love it, it's a bit shorter than the last one.

Summary: After Harald brings his newly wed wife back to Norway, he's finally surprised with the news of her expecting his child.

Timeline: Unimportant.

Pairing: Harald Sigurdsson x Princess!Reader Warning: Pregnancy, fluff.

"You'd prefer to come with me as queen of Norway instead~?" He smiled, trying to keep his needs from taking over as he held her body close to his.

~~~

"Yes." Y/N softly whispered. She was done with hiding, done with acting like she wasn't curious of how her father had lived back in Norway, done with how she was treated. She desired a life with a strong and caring man. One who didn't hurt her or degraded her, but one who loved and respected her. One she wanted a family with.

"Come on then Ketta. Let's go home." He smiled and held out his hand as he rose to his feet. She took it and she would never regret taking it that day.

Together they spend a lot of time at sea, him caring for her as much as he could during that time. He knew she wasn't used to traveling by sea, let alone this far.

Whenever her back hurt or her legs hurt by the little to no movement on the boat, he would rub and massage it until the pain was gone.

Whenever she was hungry or thirsty he would make sure she got his food too.

Whenever she was cold he would hold her close and cover her in his fur.

Everything to keep her from getting cold and sick.

During that time, Y/N also figured that this was really the best choice she could have ever made. Harald was truly the most caring man she had ever known. She trusted him, respected him, but most importantly loved him. It didn't take long for him to steal her heart back in Norway and all she could dream about was the unborn child that was growing in her belly safely.

Their family would finally be complete.

Harald came back from a tough hunt in the middle of the night, exhausted and hurt. He took off his fur and his armor as quietly as he could though, not wanting to wake up his beautiful wife, but she was already awake. She had been so ever since he left, not able to sleep without him.

"I'm so sorry if I woke you, my love." He smiled warmly and joined her in bed, covering them with the thick wolf fur again as he let his fingers wander across her soft skin.

"It's okay." She smiled back and moved to her back to watch him and scratch his beard gently. "I couldn't sleep knowing you were out there in this cold anyway."

"I'm used to it, my queen. You know that." He kissed her forehead and held her close. "I'll always come back."

"It still worries me, my king." She whispered, stroking his hair back with love in her pretty eyes. "I'm still your wife~ I care about you."

"I know you do." He travelled down her body with his fingers, suddenly feeling the small baby bump when he reached her lower stomach. "Ketta? Are you~..?" He looked up astonished, watching her for any confirmation she was indeed expecting.

"I am~." She gave him a nod and his eyes immediately went wide and back to the bump he was now caressing.

"Thank you." He whispered, moving the fur so he could kiss her stomach. "Thank you so much, my love."

Harald's wish for a family was granted. He had a strong, sweet woman by his side and soon a child he would love with whole his heart. He would protect them at all cost, even if it meant for him to draw his last breath.. they were his heart and without them he wouldn't be able to live.

#harald sigurdsson #Harald sigurdsson x reader #vikings valhalla #vikings imagine #vikings #requests #fluff #harald

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aplacebetweensleepandawake · 1 year

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I love their friendship, I'm going to die of cuteness

#Vikings Valhalla #Vikings Valhala season 3 #season 3 #netflix #vikings #valhalla #Leif Erikson #leo suter #harald sigurdsson #Harald #Leif

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author-morgan · 10 months

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Title: Riverside Rating: M Pairing: Harald Finehair x fem!Reader (and Halfdan the Black) Summary: Harald Finehair may be a fool, but at least he has his brother, and at least he has you. ❤️plot bunny that's been collecting dust for two years by @mrsragnarlodbrok ❤️

down by the river by the boats, where everybody goes to be alone

“YOUR BROTHER IS a fool,” you remark, watching Harald Finehair slip away with the princess who once promised to be his queen—the woman whose husband had only just been murdered in the early hours of the morn. Halfdan the Black watches his brother too, lips twitching as he lifts his cup of ale, taking a short quaff of the weak brew. He’ll be glad to leave England—an army of this size meant dwindling supplies, game, and ever-weakening ale and mead.

He picks off another hunk of meat from a roast pheasant. “Is that meant to be news?” Halfdan asks in turn, smiling as he flicks his stringy blond hair aside and out of his eyes—his dark gaze flitting back to you. Harald’s always been a fool when it comes to women and love, and Halfdan doubts time and age will ever change that.

“Halfdan,” you chide. Harald is a fool—a fool for thinking Ellisif would wait for him, a fool for killing Vik so crassly in the heart of the camp. You both know he is, but watching Princess Ellisif slip away with her husband’s killer makes you uneasy. Grief and the thought of vengeance would not have left her mind yet. And such things can drive people to act in unpredictable ways. “You don’t think it’s odd she wishes to seek a private audience with him only a few hours after he killed her husband?”

Halfdan raises his brow—the blue-black ink of the tattoo on his temple and forehead twitches and wrinkles. At the moment, he’s more content with filling his belly and entertaining your company than fretting over his brother, yet you won’t let the subject rest so easily, and deep down, Halfdan knows you are right, as is the feeling of dread in his liver. “Had it been me, the thought of retribution would not yet be gone, nor the fog of dolor.”

You make a convincing case, and with a sighing frown, Halfdan pushes away from the table and you, heading toward Harald’s tent—hand resting on the hilt of his sword, knowing already he will have to serve as his brother’s protector once more. A moment later, Halfdan emerges from his brother’s pavilion. The sword in his hand is coated with blood, bright and red. And it would seem, after all, he knew women far better than his brother—or at least how to listen to you.

He frees a cloth from his belt and slides it down the blade, cleaning it with a single long swipe as he looks at you, watching and waiting. Halfdan doesn’t have to say anything as he approaches for you to know, but regardless, your lips quirk upward. “Told you,” you declare, and he makes a low sound of agreement from the back of his throat, taking the cup of ale you offer. You knew Ellisif would not have so easily nor quickly forgiven Harald for his transgression, especially after not upholding her promise to wait for marriage.

Harald’s curses and fit of rage ring out in the brisk air. You know there’s little that can soothe his heart and pride, but if anyone in the Ragnarsson encampment can make an earnest attempt, it is you—Halfdan knows this too. “I’ll see to him,” you breathe, taking one last drink of ale. Halfdan grips your arm before you can go to his brother and leans close, offering a soft, quick kiss over too soon.

THE RIVER FLOWS slowly, given its breadth near the encampment of the Sons of Ragnar—a hundred longships are pushed up against the banks and moored in the water. Together, you and Harald walk along the water’s edge, heading north, where fewer ships and wandering eyes and ears are. The blood on his hands and chest is nigh dry, and it makes his red woolen tunic stick to him and stiffens his silver-tinged beard.

Harald Finehair looks at you but cannot dispel what you must think of him, of these circumstances—your expression is only a cool mix of solicitude and what he thinks is annoyance. Yet again, he finds himself failing to understand the mind and heart of a woman—one he has known since childhood, no less. “My brother is lucky,” Harald admits, feeling a spike of jealousy stab at him as he thinks about you and Halfdan, “to have only ever loved you.” But had he ever truly loved Ellisif beyond his desire for her beauty? Even he is not sure of the answer.

You stop near the prowl of one of Jarl Olavsson’s ships—his shields and sails marked by white and dark green—and stare at Harald, aghast and confused by his insinuation. “Do I no longer have your love?” You ask, reaching for him and the leather ties at the neck of his tunic.

“I had thought–” his voice trails off as he looks at the flock of blackbirds flying overhead, unsure if it is a sign from the gods or just an ill omen. He lets you draw him nearer, but it’s only when the flat of your hand connects with his bloody cheek that his gaze and attention return to you—his stormy blue eyes filled with bewilderment and indignation. He stares at you, nostrils flared.

“No, Harald!” You’ve finally grown exasperated by his foolishness—you could tolerate his laments about love and marriage, but to nigh let himself be killed by a recreant woman under such circumstances? “You didn’t think!” You tell him, and Harald steps back, hands curling to fists at his sides. He needs to hear this, though, if not from his brother, then from you. “And if you did, it was with the wrong head.” The same head all men think with first when it comes to women.

“You speak to a king,” he reminds you, puffing out his chest—a weak reply, and you both know it.

You shake your head and reach for him, hands settling on either side of his blood-spattered face—thumbs following the blue-black scrollwork of the tattoos on his cheeks. “And I am also speaking to one of my oldest friends,” you remind him. King or no, Harald and his brother are among your oldest and dearest friends—they could be little more than farmers or simple whalers, and you would think no less of them nor love them less. There’s a shift in Harald’s expression then, as though he realizes the error of his ways in disregarding your and Halfdan’s counsel, and hubris fades to humility. “One whom I care for and love very much.” Love, the word catches him off-guard. Then an ephemeral smile returns to grace your lips. “Even if he is pigheaded at times.”

He forces down the growing knot in his throat. “My brother–” Harald starts, but you press your fingertips to his weathered lips, shushing him and chasing away any apprehension or fear of driving a rift between the three of you with what comes next. “Halfdan knows,” you tell Harald with airy unconcern—fingers slipping down to comb through his silver-tinged wiry beard. Your trysts had never been clandestine, even before whatever this unspoken thing with his brother began before the first raid on Paris. “He’s very astute,” you remark, the corner of your lips quirking upward again. “You could stand to learn a thing to two.”

He huffs, then goes to the river, shrugging off his tunic, and kneels at the water’s edge, splashing the cold water on his face and chest—scrubbing the drying blood of the woman he once intended to marry. He stares at his reflection, shoulders falling forward, accepting his ill-fated pursuit of marriage and defeat, alas. “I’ve been a fool,” he grumbles. You crouch next to him, dipping your hand in the river to help wash the blood from his shoulders and the back of his neck, humming your agreement—gladdened to know it is no longer a whispered secret between you and Halfdan. “You’re not supposed to agree with me,” he admonishes, mirth slipping back into his tone.

There’s a scar on his shoulder, and without thought, you lean toward him, placing the gentlest and quickest of kisses on the raised patch of silvery skin. You can recall how he and Halfdan have gotten most of their scars, but the history of this small mark evades you right now. When you meet his eyes, you see him staring at you with a look of raw hunger and desperation you’re entirely unprepared for, and it sends a wave of heat washing over you. But he’s so gentle when he handles you—even in all his lingering anger and hurt.

He holds your chin until his thumb swipes across your flushed cheek—always touching you like you’re some fragile, precious thing and not a shieldmaiden—and then his lips part, and he exhales a shaky breath, waiting for your permission, spoken or otherwise. You give it with a breathy sigh of his name. Harald. His warm breath hits your cheek, followed by the faint tickle of his scraggly beard at your jaw before his lips are fully on yours. “Let me have you.” His plea is soft against your mouth—and you cannot deny him.

Skirts rucked up around your waist, Harald grips your hips, drawing you closer to him until his wool and linen-clad thigh presses between yours. His touch is fervent—hot palms, calloused from years of battle, scrape over the bare skin they touch. His tongue sweeps across your bottom lip before kissing you—languid and soft. Your hands grasp at his back to pull his chest to your own. And then he fumbles to loosen his belt, but you knock away his hands, and Harald curses and groans when your hand slides into his undone britches, fingers wrapping around his half-hard cock—stroking him.

Your stomach flutters as his fingers caress you briefly, fleetingly—but gone far too soon. Your hips move towards his touch, but now is not the time for drawn-out caresses and teasing. In truth, he's not focused on your pleasure but more on his desire.

Harald pushes forward, rocking his hips slowly until his cock is fully sheathed inside the warmth of your cunt, and his hips meet yours. You gasp, somewhere between a whine and moan, head tipping back, and Harald takes the chance to press his lips to the base of your neck. He’s gentle as he trails a hand down your side and holds your waist—he and Halfdan have always been two sides of the same coin as lovers.

You lay back—letting him do as he pleases. He needs this moment, this release, far more than you do. His thrusts start slow, lazy almost, as though you’ve all the time in the world—like you’re back in Tamdrup on a spring night in a patch of wildflowers or bale of loose straw in a stable, not lying on a muddy English riverbank on the verge of another battle—not knowing if tomorrow will be the day Valhalla beckons you home.

He looks down at you—splayed beneath him and his gut twists with a sickening realization. I’ve been a fool, Harald thinks again, cradling your cheek, the rough pad of his thumb pressed against your parted lips, chasing a woman who could never love me. But you. It did not matter what misfortunes or victories the gods bestowed upon him. You were always there—never faltering from your place at his and Halfdan’s side. He’s only ashamed not to have realized or acted sooner.

Your legs spread wider to welcome him, squeezing at his shoulders to urge him to move faster. Every push and pull of his hips brings him deeper inside you. Harald pants at your ear, his breathing ragged and strained as his pace falters—thrusts growing quicker and rougher as he seeks release. Beneath your palms, the muscles in his back ripple, contracting with each thrust. His lips find yours again, and you pull him down closer until his bare chest presses against the rumpled wool of your dress bodice—nails scraping across his shoulders and the patchwork of tattoos on his shoulder blades.

The look in Harald’s eyes is nigh unsettling—a mix of emotion you do not wish to think about in this moment of lust and carnality—and you squeeze at his biceps, urging him to move faster, and when his trance breaks, he obliges. He breathes hushed praises against your neck and strokes a thumb over the racing pulse in your neck as he rolls his hips up into yours—strokes long and deep.

You whine and squirm for him, grinding your hips into his. The next time he moves, his cock strikes the place inside you that makes you cry out without thinking, and your toes start to curl—he does it again and again, thrice over. “Harald.” He works himself deeper still, pelvis rubbing against your clit, and he doesn’t miss the shiver that goes through you or the way your muscles tense—cunt squeezing his cock tighter. His breathy, open-mouth kisses grow sloven as you fumble to keep in rhythm, your movements slack—distracted by the fog of ecstasy in your head.

Breath hot against your lips, his eyes drift shut in unison with yours. Behind closed eyes, all that triumphs is the feel of your bodies sinking into each other. He will not last much longer. Harald barely manages a coherent rasp of your name, teeth gnashing, when his entire body shivers and he stills deep, deep inside, cock twitching.

His livid eyes are dark, like a stormy sea when they open once more, and there’s a crease between his brows that you have a yearning impulse to kiss away—and so you do, and in the wake of your lips, you smooth your fingertips over his brow. “I do love you, Harald,” you tell him—a breathless whisper—and suddenly, the knot in his throat and the offbeat feeling in his heart is back. “Just as I love Halfdan.”

He says nothing, only rests his forehead against your shoulder and shivers when your hand runs along his back, finding his dark braid to run your fingers along. But there’s a new dampness on your flesh—tears for love lost and love found.

HIS TEMPER IS quelled upon returning to the encampment, even if his heart has yet to mend. Halfdan rises from his spot at one of the fires, leaving the waning conversation with Björn Ironside when he sees you and his brother approach. The whispers around the camp of what happened between Harald, Vik, and Ellisif have already faded with new discussions of the army’s next move in Mercia—steadily creeping closer to Wessex and retribution upon King Ecbert for his part in Ragnar’s death. Harald swallows his pride and glimpses you before turning his attention to Halfdan. “Thank you, brother,” he says. “Yet again, I owe you my life.”

“I’ll always watch your back,” Halfdan replies, pressing a cup of ale into Harald’s hand before clasping his shoulder—then his gaze flits to you, and he smiles, a glimmer shining in his dark eyes. “But next time we tell you to kill someone, you should listen, yeah?” Harald shakes his head, looking down into the cup of ale with a dry laugh. You both told him to rid himself of Ellisif before setting sail to England. He should have listened then—knows he was a fool not to have. But once more, it is the three of you, and maybe that is how the gods always intended it to be.

[Harald & Halfdan taglist: @ahotmesswithprivilege / @alicedopey / @certifiedlittleshit / @charming-merlin / @elluvians / @erzsebetrosztoczy / @gearhead66 / @gossamarnie / @hc-geralt-23 / @kaexiao / @midnightmuze / @moonlightsspirit / @n0sferatus / @naaladareia / @queenfinehair / @queenyalo / @savagemickey03 / @xinyourdreamsx / @yalos-writing ] if your name is italicized, tumblr would not let me tag you. if you’d like to be added to my Vikings taglist, or any other taglist, just let me know with this Google Form!

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woahhhgwendolyn · 11 months

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Harald Taking Your Virginity Would Include...

In a way Harald would be very gentle with you while also getting what he wants out of doing this with you. He would make sure that you were comfortable, and you really wanted to do this with him before he even starts to touch you everywhere. When you nod and tell him you want to do this with him, he immediately starts going for your mouth and starts to make out with you but of course starts very slowly because he knows you have never even made out with any other man before. After a couple of minutes go by of making out kind of slowly, he starts to go by a little faster but also adds in a little bit of touching you a bit making sure that you comfortable with it. When he starts to roam all over your body with his hands he goes to the back of your dress and unties it. When he unties it he slowly takes it off of your shoulders and lets the dress drop all the way down to the floor. Because he did not want to make you uncomfortable, he picked you up and then set you on the bed in front of him then he started to take off his clothes beginning with his shirt. When he got his shirt off, he came down to you and put his knees on the floor to be on the same level as you then he started making out with you again still trying to make you feel comfortable. When you were making out with him, he put his hands on your thighs and started to spread them open because he had wanted to eat you out before he fucked you. When he did that you closed your legs really fast and told him that you were kind of insecure of yourself down there and he told you that it was completely fine and that there was nothing to be worried or insecure about. And that was enough for you to hear from him so you spread your legs open again and let him go between your legs. He had set you down more on your back while you put a pillow under your head to make it more comfortable while you laid on the bed. After he had laid you down on the bed he had gotten back down to his knees and went in between your legs and started to kiss the inside of your thighs and then finally kissing your clit and the rest of your pussy. He had started to lick your clit and suck on it as well. When he was sucking on your pussy like that, he had felt himself get hard, so he had to palm himself through his pants to be able to get through just a little longer while he ate you out. While he was eating you out, he had to basically hold you down because you had kept moving your hips up and down to get more of his tongue on your clit. After a couple minutes of him eating you out he had stopped because he thought that you were ready to be fucked for real now and so he got up and chuckled a bit when you had whined because he wasn't licking your pussy anymore. But even though you were whining that he left your pussy he got up and started to take off his pants slowly and then step out of them and out them on the floor next to his shirt. When he got his pants off, he had laid onto your back again and laid on top of you. When he did this, he had looked at you and had asked you if you still had wanted to do it and you nodded to him saying yes to him. After you had said yes, he had aligned his cock up with your pussy and had slowly put it in you. When he had put it in you both gasped because of the feeling of it. You were surprised actually because you thought that it would hurt. I mean you were really tight, and he was big inside of your pussy so you thought for sure that it would hurt for a little when he had put it in you. But it did not. It was more like that when he put it in it only hurt for a couple of seconds then it started to feel really good. He had gone slow in you for a couple minutes and tried to make sure that you were feeling good as well and then after those few minutes he had started going faster and faster inside of you and he started smiling when he saw you under him starting to moan a lot because of him inside of you. When he was going faster in you, he had started moaning a lot and loud as well. You knew that the people on the outside of your tent were hearing you both fucking hard.

He started going really hard in you when you had felt something in your stomach and it is something you had never really felt before so you thought that it was weird but Harald had noticed that you started becoming tighter around him so he went a little deeper and faster in your pussy because he thought that it meant you were going to cum soon and he was going to cum soon to so he wanted to go deeper and faster inside of you so that you both could cum together. And he was right because when he had started going deeper and faster in you, you had started twitching and screaming because he had felt so good in you. After a couple more of your twitches and becoming tighter around Harald you both had cum and started breathing heavily. After he cummed in you he had fell on top of you breathing heavily and smiled at you and looked at you because of how much he loved you. After a couple of minutes, you both laid down and started cuddling each other. You both got tired eventually so you both went to bed after cuddling for a while.

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