Hvitserk White Shirt - Imagines

Brauð

Inspiration:

Author's Notes | For the record, the bun joke comes from ​Milbeth Morillo's Chibi Hvitserk and his cute little loaf! I couldn't miss this!

Universe | Vikings

Pairing | Hvitserk x Reader

Info | Modern AU, produced for @flowers-in-your-hayr's 600 followers celebration. Brauð is Icelandic for Bread

Words | 858

⁑ Warnings: None

"Are you sure you're ok?"

How many times in nine months did you hear that question?

And any time you would answer the same way, with a tender smile on your lips.

"I'm fine, love."

Hvitserk was the sweetest of the companions. The two of you weren't married yet, but when the pregnancy came, you knew it would become a thing between you guys: he was so happy!

You thought he would be scared, perhaps surprised, but the smile you saw forming on his lips was just the most beautiful you've ever seen.

"We're going to have a baby!"

It was party time for him. You could still remember the size of the barbecue he invited his whole family into just to announce you were his oven and the two of you had a bun being cooked.

"I made a bun!"

And then, the bun joke was everywhere.

"Look what I found!"

From the overalls with smiling loaves to the bottle decorated with different kinds of comic buns, Hvitserk made the whole trousseau of your baby with smiling cartoon references to bread. He even managed to get a mobile made of small cupcakes, buns, and cinnamon rolls little plushies!

In spite of his loaf obsession, Hvitserk listened to every one of your asks, from the baby's room position to the side crib you asked for your bed to keep the baby beside the two of you while it was too little. Always checking on the equipment, recommendations, safety measurements, everything to have your heart secure about your baby's comfort and safety.

You always thought he was sweet when speaking about children, but you were surprised by how good he was being a father. Although your child wasn't there yet, you found books about caring for children besides his bed and lots of research about pregnancy and what could he do to make you feel better on your computer.

Hvitserk bought you new pillows, he exchanged the heater of your bedroom, he learned how to massage your ankles to avoid fluid retention and you could still remember how happy he was the first time you melted under his skilled fingers.

After your pregnancy became closer to its end, Hvitserk became even more careful and tender, picking up everything you couldn't reach for you, training two or three times how would it be the moment to take you to the hospital, studying different ways to give birth with you and actively participating on your choice, respecting your boundaries and finding a place where nothing would limit him from being there for you.

He was such a good companion, such a sweet father! You couldn't ask for anything better and now the time to finally deliver into his arms what he had waited for so long had come.

"Are you sure you're ok, babe?" he asked again.

First on the car, then now on the bed where you were waiting to enter the birth room. You smiled.

"I couldn't be better," you answered, holding his hand, catching his attention.

The pain had started but you were fine with it. Hvitserk's hands were cold, on the other hand.

"It's fine, love," you said, causing him to smile when you gently warmed his hands between yours.

"I'm anxious," he confessed.

"Me too," you said, caressing his fingers.

"Do you think... We can do it? I mean..." he swallowed dry.

And you could see once again your sweet bun-boy, so afraid of not being enough, so anxious about the challenge that was about to start in your lives.

"Hvitserk," you said, calling his eyes to dive into yours. "You'll be the best father ever. And I couldn't feel safer about this. Our child is blessed..." A small grunt cut your sweet speech and you smiled. "And eager... Just like its father".

The two of you entered the birth room and Hvitserk never let go of your hand. And when your child was brought to rest on your chest, you saw his eyes becoming teary.

"It's a healthy little girl," the doctor said.

Finally popping the bubble of surprise the two of you wanted to keep until the last moment.

You saw a smile forming on Hvitserk's lips when his gloved fingers touched and caressed the little girl's face laid between your breasts.

"Hello, little bun," he mumbled, making your smile bigger.

The child's face reflexively essayed a smile and it twisted Hvitserk's face in a beautiful smile, breaking the dam of his eyes and pouring the tears of joy he didn't even try to hold back.

"She smiled at me," he said.

And you smiled back at him.

"Our little bun knows who the sweet baker is," you joked, caressing his face, making Hvitserk chuckle between his tears.

The next morning, his Instagram story had a picture of the three of you. Your little girl packed on her blanket, your face smiling and Hvitserk's proud and happy face between the two of you.

"The baker and the oven proudly introduce: The little bun!"

You would laugh forever at that, but nothing could be better than having Hvitserk's beautiful smile and his most pure happiness.

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