#Hvitserk x f reader

[mylifeisactuallyamess]

Vantalaður Ást

Ivar Lothbrok Hvitserk Lothbrok x F!Reader

Chapter 16 - Chapter 17.

A/N: So I wrote a little blurb about how I was sorry this had taken so long, but tumblr deleted my first draft and I legit don’t give a fuck anymore 🤣 blah blah @kaybee87 this is for you 😘

Warnings: 18+, suggestive themes, p in v (wrap it up irl.) alcohol, weddings, addiction mentions, pregnancy mention (not reader), the boys being boys.

Word Count: 7.9k+

Tagging: @ivarisms @majesticwren @a-bang-for-your-bucky @youbloodymadgenius @istorkyou @smears-and-spots @bulmabhadie @southernbe @ironynoticony @xceafh

Your boots were muffled on the plush carpet as you strode down the corridor. The boys had the biggest suite in the hotel, three bedrooms and a living area as well. Hvitserk had told you all about it and sent you pictures, it looked lovely. They were out last night getting rip-roaringly drunk and you had to mute your phone at one point because Hvitserk was blowing up your notifications and the girls were getting curious.

Pulling out the key card you slipped it quietly into the door, letting the light turn green before carefully stepping inside. It was dimly lit, a lamp on a small table casting a faint glow into the small hallway area before it spread into the room itself. Smiling, you crouched down and gently touched the sleeping form that was resting against the wall. He stirred, his eyes opening and when he saw it was you a wide, sleepy smile split his face.

“Elsku dúllan mín,” he whispered, reaching for your face to pull you to him. Recoiling slightly, your nose scrunched up at the smell of him.

“Jesus, Hvitserk. You smell like a bar!”

“I didn’t want to miss you arriving,” he said with a needy tone that made you smile and lean into him. His lips were so welcoming and you exhaled softly against him. You had been apart for a few days before the wedding and you had missed him.

“Why are you on the floor, Hvitserk?”

“I knew what time you were coming, I moved out here so I could kiss you before anyone saw.” Leaning forward you rewarded him with another, mind bendingly, tender kiss. Your fingertips ghosted over the side of his face and his hand fisted in your top.

“We should stop,” you breathed, keeping your eyes closed because you didn’t want this moment to end.

“Don’t worry. No one will see us,” his gaze dropping to your lips once more before he kissed you harder this time. A tiny moan of desperation leaving you, his arms pulling you off your feet and into him.

“Hvitserk?” A voice called. You don’t even remember getting up. But by the time Ivar had rounded the corner you were standing, hitching the strap of your bag higher onto your shoulder while Hvitserk smirked on the floor. Elbows on his raised knees and a thumb swiping along his lips like he could still taste you. Ivar glanced between you both but his expression was impassive, leaning heavily on his cane. You made a note to make sure his meds were in his pocket before you left.

“What are you doing on the floor, huh?”

“Resting,” replied Hvitserk. “Still recovering from last night, brother.”

“You absolutely stink,” you commented and he sniggered lightly.

“I’m going for a shower now,” he jumped up towering over you as he stretched, his back to Ivar he gave you that puppy dog grin as your eyes locked. “Don’t miss me too much.”

“Fat chance,” you retorted. Placing your hands on his hips you shimmied past him in the small space, highly aware of how close he was and hoping Ivar wasn’t reading too much into this. “You ready?” You asked the youngest Lothbrok, trying to dispel the breathlessness from your tone.

“More than the rest,” he answered, glaring at his brother who you could just tell was still smirking even as he sauntered back to his room. You followed Ivar into the living area, seeing a mini bar against one wall and Ivar perched on a stool there. You emptied your bag onto the bar surface, scattering bands, combs, hair wax and gel. You concentrated on setting everything up as Ivar watched. His blue eyes were focussed when you dared to glance at him, his head resting in the palm of his hand and hair framing his handsome face. You wanted to say something, anything to break the tension that had collected between you.

“Was last night fun?” He stirred, breaking out of his reverie at the sound of your voice. His piercing gaze slid to you and for a minute you wondered if he knew the secret you bore. You always felt like Ivar could read you, better than even Hvitserk. Especially with the way he noticed even the smallest details about someone.

“It was what you would expect for a night out with my brothers.” You grinned fondly as memories surfaced.

“It’s been a while since I joined you all.” Ivar shrugged and sat up straight as you came round behind him.

“Hvitserk wouldn’t stop talking about you.” You didn’t miss the light hearted, yet probing tone of Ivar’s voice. Your hands didn’t falter though and you raked the comb through his soft strands without missing a beat.

“We’ve spent a lot of time together the last few months,” you finally responded and Ivar scoffed, his fist closed firmly around the handle on his cane.

“Uh huh.” He didn’t say anything else because Ubbe appeared from around the corner. He squinted at you and then threw himself onto a sofa with a groan.

“What time is it?” He rasped, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“Struggling, brother?” You tugged on Ivar’s hair in warning and he sighed heavily.

“How are you….functioning?” Ubbe asked Ivar as he hung over the arm of the sofa watching you do his youngest brother's hair.

“I was sensible. And I knew we had to be up early. I didn’t get so drunk I acted like an idiot all night long either.”

“No. You don’t need alcohol for that Ivar,” Sigurd announced his arrival with that comment, making Ivar turn his head and you dropped the braid.

“Stay still!” You hissed, forcing his head back round. “No arguing today. This is Björn’s big day and if I so much as sniff the pair of you taking chunks out of each other, I will personally march you from the wedding myself.” You jabbed the comb in Sigurd’s direction and he held up his hands to show he surrendered. “You too,” you stated, poking Ivar in the shoulder and making him curse softly.

“She’s right,” Ubbe mumbled. “No fighting.”

“Did I hear my litla systir?” You let Björn hug you from behind, wrapping you in one of his famous snuggly bear hugs. He leaned on your shoulder, squeezing you hard round the middle before releasing you.

“Nervous, brother bear?”

“Nah. Should I be?” He asked quickly and you shook your head.

“They were all still asleep when I left this morning but the excitement is popping.” You finished off Ivar’s hair, tying the last braid and resting a hand on his shoulder. “You’re done. Sigurd?” Applying some wax to your hands you scrunched his curls before segmenting out some strands at the side and began to braid them close behind his ear. “What am I doing with yours, Björn?”

“Just redoing the braids.”

“What about me?” You glanced up only to feel a flame in your face at the sight of Hvitserk fresh from his shower. He still had droplets of water settling like diamonds on his skin. His tattoo that you had traced with your fingers while he told you about it, rippled as he poured himself some water for the small sink behind the bar. He leaned easily against the counter, the towel slung dangerously low and it was all you could do to keep your eyes trained on Sigurd’s braids.

“Put some fucking clothes on!” Sigurd grabbed a handful of your bands and threw them at Hvitserk.

“Hey! I need those!”

“I’ve got them, sæta.” Peering over the bar you saw Hvitserk give you a wink when he was ducked down and you rolled your eyes, grateful that Sigurd had broken the moment for you. Prodding the blonde Lothbrok in the shoulder, you were satisfied when he flinched and swore.

“Don’t mess with me today, Sigurd.” Finally you finished both sides and stepped back to admire your handy work. “Do you…?”

“No I’m done,” he said as he slipped off the stool.

“I’m next!” Demanded Hvitserk who still hadn’t got dressed. This was going to be a struggle. The others slowly filtered away to get changed and soon you were left alone with him. His hazel eyes looked around as you tilted his head to the side. You jolted slightly when he slipped a hand down your legs, digging his fingertips into your thigh and you inhaled sharply before slapping him with the flat of the comb.

“Ouch, kærasta!”

“Don’t distract me!” You whispered.

“I can’t help myself.” His leg jigged in irritation and he crossed his arms across his chest. “I just want to tell everyone how I feel. How we feel.”

“I know. Soon, ok?” You breathed, combing half of his hair out of the way. “Let Björn and Kat have their day.”

“But then we’re…” he trailed off as Ivar thumped into view.

“Oh wow look at you!” It spilled from you a little too brightly but he did look amazing. Kat had picked out black suits with a deep red waistcoat under the jacket, over a black shirt. Without thinking you stepped around Hvitserk and reached to adjust Ivar’s collar. He tipped his head forward and you slipped your fingers round, smoothing it all down only to be struck by how sad his gaze was when it locked with yours. “You ok?”

“Are you finishing my hair? I want to get ready.” You looked over your shoulder to glower at Hvitserk but he just bit his bottom lip as he watched you and Ivar. His leg was still going and his arms tightened slightly across his chest, bunching up his muscles.

“Shut up, Hvitserk,” Ivar snapped.

“Make me. Brother.”

“Oh children! Do I have to give you two the same threat I gave Ivar and Sigurd? No fucking fighting!” You made a point of glaring at Hvitserk but he avoided your gaze, his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Seems someone is the common denominator there,” muttered Hvitserk and you cracked him on the shoulder. The slap sounded worse than it was but he still flinched, you had no doubt Ivar was looking smug behind you.

“Pack it in. Now let me finish your hair and I’ll gush over how handsome you look too, Mr What About Me.” Not much else was said as you swiftly braided Hvitserk’s hair, his arms not shifting from his defensive position.

You gave each brother the same attention you’d given Ivar, except Björn. When you saw him you nearly sobbed, letting him drag you into an all encompassing bear hug before he sent you packing back to the girls.

You took a moment before you left, watching them preening amongst themselves as Ubbe poured some mead for them all. You went to leave when you felt a hand on your shoulder.

“You’ve got time,” muttered Björn, holding out a glass for you.

“Surely this is a brother thing,” you assumed.

“It’s a family thing,” Ubbe spoke up. Dumping your bag beside the sofa you reluctantly took the glass, Björn wrapping his arm around and pulling you into him.

“Who’d have thought I’d be the first one to get married,” he started and you all scoffed in amusement.

“You’re the only one in a steady enough relationship,” Ivar pointed out. “I’d say it was pretty obvious.” Hvitserk groaned and nudged his brother as you glared at him from under Björn’s embrace.

“To our oldest brother,” Ubbe raised his glass and looked around the group. “May he pave the way for the rest of us.”

“Here, here!” You cheered, knocking your glass into the rest and you all chugged the mead quickly. You gave up after a few gulps knowing there was wine waiting for you. “Don’t spill any!” You cried as they tipped their heads back, Hvitserk gasping in satisfaction when he finished first, a proud smile splitting his face.

“Still the fastest chugger,” he announced.

“That’s what she said,” muttered Sigurd and they all descended into snorts of laughter.

“I’ve got to go! Have fun boys, for the love of the gods don’t drink much more! Don’t mark your suits and be on fucking time!” You stressed urgently.

“Don’t worry astvinur,” Ubbe said as he wrapped an arm around Björn and gestured with the hand still clutching his glass tankard. “After you I’m the most sensible one here.” You smiled, shaking your head and made your way to the door.

“Hey!” You paused, watching Hvitserk approach, feeling the butterflies in your stomach as you looked him over, appreciating his suit. “Checking me out, huh sæta?”

“Maybe,” you admitted quietly.

“I can’t wait to see you in your dress.” As he spoke he leaned against the half shut door, his fingers curling over yours and his hazel eyes dragging up and down your form. He sucked in his bottom lip, such a simple motion had such a devastating effect on you it was all you could do to keep your composure.

“Kiss me,” you whispered boldly. His gaze flared, followed by a swift cocky upturn to his lips before he was snatching the breath from your body.

“I don’t want to stop…” he mumbled against your mouth, a hand coming up to cup the side of your face and you groaned. Coming to your senses, you pushed him away. Gently touching your lips as you adjusted the bag strap on your shoulder.

“I’ll see you soon.”

“Not soon enough,” he grumbled good naturedly. The door didn’t close and you knew he was watching you walk away so you sashayed before breaking down in giggles. The door finally closed and you sighed, thinking he’d gone but instead he grabbed your arm and spun you round just as you turned the corner in the corridor. Both hands came up to cradle your face as he gave you a deep, needy kiss which made your head spin. Your lungs ached because you forgot to breathe and the butterflies in your stomach started doing somersaults.

“Go now or I’ll never let you leave,” he groaned. Biting your lip you smiled.

“I’m going.”

“Hvitserk? You out here?” Ubbe shouted into the hallway.

“Shit, yeah I’m coming!” He called, sauntering round the corner and you leaned against the wall, fanning yourself. You had to get a grip but today was going to be so terribly difficult.

You left the main hotel building, walking purposely back towards the Bride’s cottage that you’d left everyone else in. Music was going, Lagertha was pouring wine and she cheered loudly when you entered. Kat was sitting at the dresser having her makeup done, Alex was dancing with Hali, making the boy throw his head back with laughter.

Before you’d even put your bag down, you were almost knocked over by Asa as she wrapped her little arms around you.

“How is frændi Hvitserk?” She whispered. Her eyes were wide and you got down on her level. Ever since they’d been told about Hvitserk and his “illness,” she had made all these scenarios up in her mind and you were the only one who could put her mind at ease.

“I’ve just seen him,” you whispered. “And he told me, he cannot wait to see his very favourite frænka.” You let her digest that information for a moment and she rewarded you with a beaming smile.

“He did?” She gasped. “Will he look at my pretty dress?” She stepped back and did a twirl in the rich red dress that matched the brothers. The layers flared out creating such a beautiful image for the briefest of moments you almost felt broody. She was gorgeous, and one of your favourite people on this planet. When she stopped you straightened her straps, gently brushing her hair off her shoulder and gave her a smile.

“He is going to love your dress. Shall I get in mine?” Without a word she grabbed your hand, barely giving you time to wave at Kat who was beginning to look nervous before you were dragged into the other room.

She chatted to you the whole time, bringing you up to speed on Torvi who you’d just missed; her little legs swinging on the chair while she waited for you to reappear. The dress was perfect, long floaty material that hid all the sins of your body and a matching shade to Asa’s. The sleeves were off the shoulder, leaving straps to hold it up, blooms of lace plunging down, but not indecently. Thankfully Kat had also got you all some white faux fur pashminas to cover your shoulders. Already you knew though, some dancing, some shots and you wouldn't be feeling the cold anymore.

You joined the others, Asa letting go of your hand and running to join Lagertha on the sofa while she watched you all get ready. Kat was standing nervously to the side and you scowled at her.

“Stop chewing!” You scolded softly.

“I know but I’m so nervous!” She breathed. “How did he seem?” You sat in the chair and let the makeup artist start on you.

“Björn is stupidly excited,” you nearly made a joke about them celebrating so hard they might be late; but from the look of her that would be a very ill timed joke. “They’re all so happy for him.”

“No horror stories from last night?”

“Nope. They got drunk, probably danced until Ivar ruined their fun…haven’t you got a dress to put on?” You asked, making her jump up. Luckily Lagertha and Asa distracted Kat and disappeared with her to get changed.

Finally you were all done, standing there with your beautiful flowers, make up and hair done and a sense of anticipation filled the cottage when Lagertha asked if you were all ready to see.

She opened the doors and a collective gasp spilled from you and Alex as Kat stepped into the room.

Her dress was exquisite, the top half made of lined lace, hugging her body and covering her arms in patterns of flowers and leaves. The middle band was a matching shade of red, gems glinting in the light when she moved, the skirt of her dress flowing elegantly round her legs.

“Well?” She squeaked. You were lost for words, tears threatening to ruin all the hard work of the makeup artist so when Hali stepped forward first you let out a little shaky breath.

“I think you look beautiful,” he said earnestly. “Can I walk you down the aisle?” Alex blew out a breath and you knew she was trying not to cry as much as you were.

“Yes, Hali. Of course you can.” You all fussed around the bride, adjusting her veil and laying out the train of her dress before lining up.

They were getting married just behind the cottage to a backdrop of mountains and snow and then the wedding party would move to the marquee to eat and dance. This wedding had been pulled together quickly but it had all slotted into place perfectly and you were bursting with pride that your biggest brother bear was finally getting married.

Björn wasn’t late. All the brothers were stood at the altar, looking impeccable but your gaze softened at the sight of Hvitserk. Imagining this is what it would be like to get married to him. Marriage was not something you’d really put a lot of thought into but now you had that…that someone. This desire was foreign and you weren’t entirely sure what to do with it. Concentrating on the ceremony you hoped your thoughts would clear but your gaze kept wandering to Hvitserk, only to find him returning the focussed look.

The pair of you almost missed the end of the ceremony, the kiss, the cheers. Following the newly married couple into the marquee you were momentarily distracted by Asa as she dragged you round pointing out the decorations and the buffet that was being laid out. Eventually you made it to the bar, immediately asking for a gin and guzzling it harder than you should.

“Thirsty?” You let out a moan into your glass, you didn’t need this right now. Not when he looked for fucking good in that suit.

“Go away Hvitserk,” you whispered, flinching when he rested his chin on your shoulder. Your entire body tensed but he let out a soothing “ssssh,” into your ear.

“Relax, sæta. No one suspects a thing.”

“I just don’t want to ruin their moment.” You whispered. He ordered a drink from over your shoulder, pressing in behind and you had to bite your bottom lip to keep your thoughts to yourself. Hvitserk leaned on the bar beside you, nursing his drink but keeping contact with you even when other people came and spoke to you both. When the rush cleared you two found yourselves alone at the end of the bar, observing everyone enjoying themselves.

“I want you,” he murmured in your ear just as the DJ stepped up to play some music while people ate. Your entire body felt like it was electrified, the hairs on your arms standing on end as his words spawned a desire deep in your belly. You pressed your back into him, each movement just giving him a hint of friction on the growing bulge in his trousers. You smirked at the tiny little breath hitch he gave, his hidden hand grabbing an arse cheek hard enough to make you jump. “Don’t tease me,” he growled.

“Why not? You do it to me all the time.” You casually finished your drink, stepping back a little to bump into him harder and he swore under his breath, fingers grabbing your hip to hold you in place.

“Bathroom. Now.” Protests died in your throat as the pair of you scanned the crowd before quickly diving into the door to your left. He barged you through the doors and thankfully the place was empty. His lips were insistent, his fingers commanding with the way they held your throat. Molten heat pooled between your legs and you wanted nothing more than to have him here, right now.

“We shouldn’t!” You giggled as Hvitserk kissed his way up your throat and the side of your face.

“But the dress,” he groaned. “You in that dress is driving me wild. Do you know how difficult it is for me to keep my expression blank so Ubbe doesn’t figure us out?”

“Just call me litla…”

“Don’t ruin the moment for me!” He huffed, forcing his lips to cover yours and stop you talking. You eased yourself up onto the counter, legs spread so he could wedge himself between them. His hand held your face, a simple motion you had missed these past few days. The kiss tossed back and forth between you, both of you fighting for dominance and a small giggle left you at the idea of doing this in a bathroom at your friend's wedding. “I missed you!” He whispered and you moaned softly as his hand slipped under the folds of floaty material. His breath hitched when he felt your lace underwear and you smirked over his shoulder. He kissed you again, almost cracking your head on the tiles, he was so desperate to taste your lips. “Sæta, I need you…”

“We can’t,” you breathed. But already your hips were lifting off the counter as he slipped your underwear down your thighs. Your arms curled round his neck, holding him close and inhaling everything that made him so ultimately Hvitserk. You heard his belt go, the buckle clanking on the surface as he slipped his trousers down. You planted your foot against the hand dryer on the wall as Hvitserk reached to hook his hand over the top of the mirror behind you. You were both so desperate you knew no foreplay was needed. Spitting on his hand, Hvitserk wiped it quickly on his flushed cock and you wriggled on the counter in anticipation. His other hand hooked around your waist and hauled you to the edge, notching his cock at your entrance and both of you groaned in unison at the sensation.

With a firm thrust he entered you fully, his hazel eyes watching every flicker of pleasure that crossed your features. His own face screwing up in concentration, knowing the pair of you could be discovered at any moment. He rocked your body, desperate to reach that point that neither of you could back from. His entire body was tense, his lips trailing over your neck as you leaned back into the support of his arm. He found a steady rhythm, all the while you tried to keep listening out for the door but you were soon drowning in the noise of the gasps and moans that filled the bathroom.

His hands came back to your body, clutching you to him as he throbbed inside you, filling and stretching your cunt at this angle. His mouth was open, his eyes glassy and hooded which told you he was close. His gasps increased, mingled with your own; they echoed loudly against the tiles.

“Hvitserk, I’m gonna…” your voice was breathy and it seemed to spur him on to increase the tempo. Your mouth found his, feeding off his desire, tasting his neediness and it brought you so close to the brink.

“Guð, þú ert svo kynþokkafullur,” he gasped against your cheek just as you cunt clamped around him. Burying your face into him, you hoped he would absorb the loud cries that threatened to echo out of the bathroom. The rippling sensation of your orgasm had him rutting forcefully into you as he found his own release. His fingers tangled almost painfully in your braids, his form trembling against yours as he worked you both through the remaining waves of pleasure that weaved between you.

Catching your breath you let him kiss the soft, tender spot under your ear, his hips flexing into you once more as he cupped your face.

The squeak of the outer door had you shoving him away and he quickly disappeared into a stall to redress, still having time to chuck you a devilish smirk before you grabbed your underwear off the floor just as the door opened and Kat and Alex strode in.

“There you are!” Cried Kat.

“Why does it smell like sex in here?” Alex asked with a rise of her eyebrow.

“I have no idea,” you forced out. “Maybe people were in here before me.” Looking in the mirror you saw you were a mess, lipstick was smeared across your lips and you quickly worked on sorting it out, keeping your legs crossed and hoping you could dive into a stall soon.

“Whatever. I have a crisis!” You dared to glance at the door Hvitserk was hiding behind and quickly tried to figure out how you were going to get them out of here.

“Shall we do this at the bar. With shots?” You suggested but Kat leaned on the counter.

“No alcohol.” Both you and Alex glanced at each other over her hunched form.

“Why?” Alex asked.

“I think I’m pregnant,” whispered Kat. All of you turned at once as Hvitserk burst from the stall, excitement lighting up his face and you died a little inside but thankfully his trousers were done up.

“What the hell Hvitserk?!” You cried trying to act surprised.

“I wasn’t expecting you,” smirked Alex. Kat just gazed at him with wide imploring eyes.

“This is the ladies!” She cried but then waved a hand like it didn’t matter. “You can’t tell him, Hvitserk! Promise me!”

“I won’t say a word,” he grinned before grabbing her in a bear-like hug, his bright eyes slowly wandering to you and you smiled tentatively. “I’ll leave you ladies to it.” He released Kat and to your surprise he slipped an arm around your waist and kissed your cheek, lingering for just a second longer than he needed to. You coughed slightly hoping the desire in your body wasn’t there for everyone to see. He made a fuss of kissing Kat and then Alex before his gaze turned back to you with all unspoken promises and he disappeared from view.

“Well that needs some explaining. His shirt was untucked,” Alex pointed out but Kat deflected the comment.

“Her and Hvitserk are together all the time, they’re like twins,” she murmured. “He probably freaked when he heard us because this is the girls bathroom.” You nodded but you could see Alex wasn’t buying what Kat was saying, her gaze was unforgiving and you almost buckled under the weight of it.

“So. Have you done a test?” You asked, hoping to put the attention back on Kat.

“That’s what we’re here to do,” announced Alex. You and Kat stared at her as she delved into her bag and pulled out a box.

“You just walk around with them in your bag?” You asked incredulously but all she did was shrug as Kat fell on the box. Gathering her dress she disappeared into a stall.

“So,” started Alex. She pinned you with a knowing look and you shifted uncomfortably. “Hvitserk.”

“Is my best friend,” you stated.

“I’m not accepting that he’s just a friend.”

“He’s had a difficult time and I’ve been helping him through it these last 6 months.” You avoided her gaze, it wasn’t a total lie. You had been helping him through everything and he was doing great. The pair of you were also in a full blown relationship underneath everyone’s nose, wanting to see if it worked before you told anyone else. It quickly became evident that it was working and you both decided to keep it under wraps until after the wedding.

Thankfully her attention was redirected when Kat flushed the toilet. She looked a little pale when she placed the test on top of the box, face down.

“Now we wait.”

Everyone was dancing in the marquee. The music was loud and jaunty, Ubbe grabbed you for a twirl as you walked past, your red dress fluttering around your legs. Laughter and happy conversation drifted on the notes of the song and you found your spirits lifted, a smile permanently on your face. This was everything you had dreamed for Kat and Björn and you were so happy they had finally taken the last step.

You paused, watching Kat and Björn in the middle of the dance floor sharing a private moment in the whirlwind of their day. Most of the guests were up and dancing, except Ivar. You came to a stop beside him, hoping he’d say something. It had been strained between you these past few months but most of your effort has gone into hiding your relationship with Hvitserk.

“Are you having a good time?” You asked, glancing at him and seeing how relaxed he was.

“It is a party and a feast. What isn’t there to like?”

“Are you happy for Björn?” He sipped his drink, rubbing his hand over his mouth when he was finished and pointing at Kat.

“She is the best of his choices.”

“Yes she is,” you agreed with a soft smile. “She has changed him and made him grow up.”

“How is it living with my brother?” Ivar asked with a smirk. “Because out of all of us, he is the messiest.”

“Yes he is,” you said with warm affection. “But his hours are long and it gives me time to pick up after him and work.” Sipping your glass of champagne you watched Hvitserk on the opposite of the dance floor, he was talking to Halfdan. His hands animated as he described something and you smiled to yourself. Sure you had bad days and this whole week had been an ultimate test for him; what with being away from you for a few days and around the most alcohol he’d had in months. But he’d done it. He was doing it. And you felt your heart swell with pride.

“I do think I could have handled it better.” Turning slightly you looked at Ivar who was staring into the pits of his glass. His expression was pensive, sadness shone in the depths of his exquisite blue irises and your throat ran dry all of a sudden.

“Handled, what better?”

“You. Us—this.”

“I don’t….”

“I need to finish.” He didn’t sound angry, but his features were dragged down, his teeth appearing for a second as he desperately tried to express himself. His eyes looked all around until they finally settled on you making your heart stutter for a brief moment. “I knew. Long before you and Hvitserk, I knew. I could see it and still I let myself…want you.” The splinters that had long repaired began to seep, the gentle shift of your heart started the age old ache that you carried around with you, buried deep inside. “I let myself feel and then—well, I tried.”

“So did I, Ivar. But you didn’t let me be yours.” He shrugged, his leg shuffling into better position.

“And then Hvitserk,” he continued. “I saw your face at the hospital and I knew at that moment you’d never be fully mine. Even though I hoped... Even Sigurd tried and didn’t get anywhere.”

“W-what?” Now he smirked, covering the pain in his face at your shock.

“It’s why he created a scene at the lodge. You all forget, I observe everything.”

“But you knew?!”

“Of course I knew,” he replied, scrunching up his nose. Scoffing in disbelief you drained your glass.

“What do we do now?” You asked quietly as the pair of you stood shoulder to shoulder, watching your family and friends with smiles lighting their faces. The happiness that filled this wedding was something you hadn’t felt in such a long time and even now it was tinged with a greyness you couldn’t put a name to.

“You carry on. You are exactly what Hvitserk needed, still needs. You were always his.” You glanced at the youngest Lothbrok, tears welling in your eyes as your mind ran through what could have been.

“Maybe in another life,” you murmured.

“One where I learn to love what’s good for me.” On a whim, you leaned in close and he turned to you in surprise. His eyes softened as your scent wrapped around him and he breathed deeply. Boldly you placed a hand on his shoulder and pressed a delicate kiss to his cheek. You felt him lean into you, his hand coming up to rest on your hip, your shed tears resting on his skin.

“I’m sorry, Ivar,” you whispered. He nodded, swallowing against the lump in his throat as his fingers dug into you. One last contact before you were gone for good. Without looking back at him you left. Abandoning your glass on an empty table as the sobs rose up inside you. Maybe if he’d tried harder you’d have stayed. But it was all ifs, buts and maybes.

It was dark in the garden, the light of the braziers only stretched so far and you needed a moment. Tears slid down your face, knowing you still had to talk to Björn and Ubbe. It had been difficult with Ivar, more than you were anticipating. Your old feelings had surfaced, because you had let yourself want him. You had let yourself hope. The love for him was still there but it was edged with pain. You knew why he had pushed you away in the end, but that didn’t make it hurt any less.

“What are you doing?” Whirling around you held in a scream, your heart leaping in fear but it was only Sigurd.

“What is it with you Lothbroks scaring the shit out of me?” You sniffed, wiping your eyes and hoping he didn’t notice.

“Sorry,” he replied, giving you a toothy grin that said anything but.

“In answer to your question, I was just taking a moment.”

“To cry.”

“No…” he grabbed at your arm and forced you to face him. You went to push him off but he gently swiped a stray tear off your chin.

“I saw you talking to Ivar.”

“He didn’t do this to me.”

“He doesn’t have to do anything to make someone cry,” he stated and you huffed out a laugh. “There, that’s the smile,” he murmured.

“You didn’t come out here to make me smile, Sigurd.”

“Rumbled.” He released you but stayed beside you, resting against a tree, his curly hair cascaded over his shoulders as he glanced back at the wedding. “I wanted to thank you.”

“Me? You barely let me touch your hair.”

“No, not for that. For Hvitserk.”

“Hv-Hvitserk?” You stuttered.

“None of us could have brought him back from the edge like you have. You are special to him.” You rubbed your hands up your bare arms looking away from him as he spoke because you knew your face would give you away. “More than he lets on.”

“I’m just his friend,” you lied quietly and Sigurd laughed in quiet disbelief.

“We all have eyes, krúttið mitt.”

“Not you an’ all,” you muttered. He placed a hand on your shoulder, drawing you into his warm body and you went easily. Slipping your hands under his suit jacket and snuggling close into his body.

“Ivar knows. He knew.” You felt Sigurd tense against you followed by a quick draw of breath as he attempted a nonchalant shrug.

“Doesn’t matter now anyway,” mumbled Sigurd and you nodded.

“I might turn in.” Leaving his embrace you let him catch you round the waist. His mismatched green eyes glinted in the firelight as they searched your features.

“Goodbye, krúttið mitt.” The phrase held more weight than normal and you both knew it.

“Bye, Sigurd.” His fingers trailed over your hip as you moved away. His gaze followed you until you’d disappeared into the crowd.

You were caught up in the swirl of warmth and happiness, joy spilled over and tried to light your soul as you weaved your way across the dance floor. Ubbe clutched your hand, pulling you from the throng and over to the bar with Björn following. He embraced you with one of those bear hugs you adored so much. It was getting harder and harder to keep yourself from falling apart as you stared at the boys who had been your older brothers and protectors for most of your life.

“We wanted to talk to you,” Ubbe started.

“Oh yeah. What have I done now?”

“It’s Hvitserk,” stated Björn and you felt your smile faltering as your gaze drifted between two very different sets of blue eyes.

“Oh?”

“I don’t know what you did ástvinur,” Ubbe leaned on his elbows against the bar, facing the gathering. “But I haven’t seen Hvitserk smile like that in months.”

“He has done amazingly,” you said lightly.

“Bjarnarungi,” Björn whispered a name you hadn’t heard in such a long time and you almost sobbed it all out to them there and then. “Does he make you happy?” As you stared up at Björn, Ubbe leaned in closer.

“Because you make him happy.”

“Guys…we were going to wait until after the wedding before we said anything!” Ubbe let out a noise of satisfaction as Björn slammed his hand firmly onto the wooden surface of the bar.

“I knew it!” He exclaimed loudly. The pair of them reached for you at the same time and you felt the heat of your emotion as it crept down your face. Holding tightly onto their arms you sobbed quietly, wanting to remember this moment forever.

“My turn!” More hands snaked round you and the others shifted to make room for Hvitserk pressed in behind you. His face burying into your neck, the tickle of his breath catching your behind the ear.

“Group hug!” Shouted Sigurd as he barrelled into you all, nearly making the group fall over and you let out a breathless giggle.

“Ivar!” Ubbe shouted and you wondered if he’d join in. Turning in the tight hug you felt Hvitserk move to the side and Ivar appeared. All of you created a circle, linking arms as you all peered inward, something you hadn’t done since you were kids. Wedged between Ivar and Björn with Hvitserk opposite you couldn’t help but get caught up in the feel of you all together. It probably wouldn’t happen again for a long time.

“No matter what happens,” Björn stated quietly. “We are Lothbroks.”

“Except me!” You piped up making Ubbe cough slightly and Sigurd rolled his eyes in a good natured way.

“Right now,” Björn continued. “I need to give my wife her present! Litla systir…” he prised you from the tangle of the others and walked you to the edge of the dance floor. “Find Floki, tell him it’s time.” You nodded, for once completely in the dark about what he was going to do. You found Floki talking with Lagertha who beamed as you approached, embracing you gently and rubbing your arm.

“Litla hrafn.” You went willingly into Floki’s waiting embrace breathing him in deeply before looking up at him.

“Björn said it's time.” He excused himself from Lagertha and still with his arm around you, steered you out of the marquee. “Where are we going?”

“Björn got Kat a…” he giggled, his entire face lighting up at the irony. “A köttur. He got Kat, a cat.” You frowned, seeing he’d brought you to the car park where his van was. Unlocking the camper he ushered you inside.

“Floki, it’s warm in here. Are we going to collect it?” There was no evidence of a cat in the living area of the camper.

“In here,” he gestured to you and opened the door to his bedroom. Clasping your hands together you let out a high pitched squeal, whispering how adorable the kitten was as it padded towards you across Floki’s bed, fluffy tail raised and little mewling cries spewed from it. “I’ve been coming to check on her every hour,” he assured you. “Komið svo litli kettlingur.” He scooped her up and held her close, whispering words of endearment as he carefully put her in the carrier.

“We can’t go with you.” The words fell from you before you’d even really thought about it and Floki looked at you, no judgement in his eyes as he waited for you to finish. “Hvitserk would do it, for me. But I can’t ask that of him.” Floki nodded and pulled you down to sit on the covers, his hands smothering yours lovingly.

“I’m glad you saw it yourself. You are more in tune with him than you even realise. Dóttir…”

“I’m sorry. I did really want to come with you to travel but I don’t think—just not now.” The disappointment was evident on your face but the pain of ripping Hvitserk from people he loved the most was something you couldn’t do. He was doing so well, firmly back to the Hvitserk you’d known all your life, he was working, living… At the time he’d agreed and said it would do him good, because he’d do anything for you. “We’ll visit,” you whispered, squeezing Floki’s fingers.

“I’d like that.” Hitching up a smile you gestured to the kitten purring loudly from the carrier as she rubbed against the side.

“We should get her inside. She’s the second main event after all.” Floki chuckled and nodded in agreement.

The marquee was still heaving with the celebrations but you and Floki headed to the cottage just set amongst some trees. It was where you and others had got ready. Your stuff would have been moved from the cottage and put in your rooms in the main building but you couldn’t resist flirting about and straightening things up. Moving the champagne to beside the bed, spreading out the rose petals a bit more and moving the suitcases so they weren’t in the way. As you drew out the hanger for Kat’s dress the main door opened and they spilled in fresh from the dance floor, all giggles and rosy faces. Kat saw you first and threw her arms around you.

“I’m gonna tell him,” she whispered and you hugged her back tightly. “It feels right.”

“It does,” you breathed back.

“Eiginkonu.” You turned Kat around and pushed her towards Björn. “I have a gift for you.” She nearly screamed, hands over her mouth as she danced on the spot while Floki carefully extracted the kitten.

“Oh my gods, she is gorgeous!!” Kat exclaimed and tears began to well in her eyes as the kitten snuggled in her arms. “Oh Björn!”

“Faðir.” You helped the door open just in time to hear your friend say she had something to tell Björn before you closed it, leaving them to their bliss.

“So the others know about me and Hvitserk.”

“Yes, I know, litla hrafn. I think you and Hvitserk were the last ones to know.”

“That just makes me feel stupid,” you moaned but Floki shook his head.

“You needed the time to come to the realisation yourselves or it never would have worked.” He paused at the entrance, the flashing lights dancing over his form and you felt that telltale sinking feeling in your gut.

“You’re going to leave now.”

“I am, Dóttir.”

“It never gets any easier,” you sniffled. Floki drew you in, rubbing circles on your back as he comforted you, murmuring all the while about how much he loved and missed you but he just couldn’t stay in one place. After a few minutes he turned you round and deposited you in a pair of arms you knew so well. Burying yourself into his chest as the emotions took over. You felt happy because today had been amazing but at the same time you felt sad and confused about changing your plans last minute.

Hvitserk spoke to Floki as he held you, his voice rumbling through his chest but you didn’t want to listen to what was being said, only noticing the way Floki’s touch left your shoulder and you knew he’d gone. You were barely aware of being led inside the main building, Hvitserk guiding you into the quiet of a dark room and making you lay down with him.

He cradled you close, letting you wring yourself dry until drowsiness took over. He brushed the hair out of your now peaceful face. He knew what pressure you’d been under with work, looking after him and helping him slowly get back into work. He owed you everything, his entire life if he was honest. He couldn’t imagine never seeing your face again or hearing your voice, experiencing your touch and all of that kept him here. It tethered him, grounded him to keep fighting and never give into those urges again.

As he rocked you gently he fished around in his pocket and drew out a small box. Flicking the lid open he held it up to the lamp light, admiring the way the light fractured on the facets of the diamond he had purchased for you. Ravens of white gold held the gem, wings spread to join onto the band that would one day sit on your finger. He wanted nothing more than to give it to you but it never felt right. Snapping the box closed he buried it once more in his pocket, snuggling down with you and telling himself the time would come soon.

[axelsagewrites]

Where Am I?*Part Five

Pairing: modern!f!reader x (to be determined...) Ubbe, Ivar, Sigurd, Hviserks, Bjorn

Word count:  1531

Warnings: reader learning archer, sassy bjorn, emotionally complex ivar, threats, time travel, drinking, hangover

Series Summary: After falling head first the reader wakes up face to face with a group of strangely dressed men who look eerily like the vikings she studies

Part one Part two Part three Part four

Masterlist Here

Last night had been the first truly relaxing nights of your stay so far. You drank, sang guitar round a campfire on the beach, learned some Viking songs and tall tales, and now woke up with a splitting hangover. “Time to get up,” Ubbe said as he opened the door.

You just grumbled in response, pulling the covers further over your head. You heard sighing then footsteps then suddenly felt the shivering cold. Ubbe stood grinning over your, “Revenge,” he grinned down at you, offering you a hand.

“Die,” you grumbled, burying your head into the pillow.

You could hear laughter from the door, “Finally becoming one of us,” Ivar, you think, laughed.

“Or worse. she’s becoming like you,” Sigurd’s teasing led to more cursing, some thuds, and Ubbe running to split up some kind of fight as you sat up in bed. This was going to be a long day.

-

“Why do I need to learn this?” you whined as Hvitserk helped you load an arrow onto your bow.

“Well if you like to eat you need to learn how to shoot,” Ubbe said as he and Sigurd leant against a tree to watch your struggles. Ivar was sat just a few feet away on a cut down tree.

all boys were noticeably behind you as they watched the arrow sink into a tree three feet from your target. Hvitserk helped you load another arrow before making the mistake of joking to a very hungover, very fed-up woman. “How are you getting worse?”

You huffed, spinning around still holding the bow making all the boys duck. Even Hvitserk jumped away, “Watch where you point that thing!” Sigurd said, hands covering his face.

“Scared of some little girl?” Ivar laughed. Though it stopped when you turned the arrow at him. He held his hands in the air in mock defence, “I thought we were friends,”

“Don’t test me,” you grumbled, turning back to the target. “This was so much easier on the Wii,”

“What’s a Wii?” you sighed as the four asked in unison. Instead of answering you ignored them, rolling your shoulders back before taking aim again. Breathe in, breathe out, and release.

Thud. The arrow hit the edge of the target. “You’ll get there- “Ubbe tried to speak but you cut him off.

“I did it!” you almost screamed, jumping up and down. “Ha take that!” you said, thrusting the bow up like you’d won the Olympics making the boys laugh.

“Please if we were hunting not only would you scare away the deer, but you only would’ve shot his ankle,” Hvitserk said, as he pulled out another arrow for you to use.

You rolled your eyes as you loaded it yourself this time, all be it with a slight struggle without his wins, “Don’t you guys ever celebrate the small victories?”

“What’s the point of that?” Ubbe asked with all seriousness.

“For motivation? To be happy?” you said, like it was the most obvious thing as you lined up your shot. Breathe in and release. “See!” you said, the arrow now slightly closer to the centre than before, “Positive thinking gets you places,”

“Yeah, like the bottom of a pile of dead bodies,” Ivar chortled.

You turned around with a sickeningly sweet smile, “Would you like to be one of them?”

A small smirk formed on his face as the other boys laughed. You felt Hvitserk place his arm over your shoulder, “Oh you’ll fit in nicely soon enough,”

-

By the end of archery practise you were now able to hit the target each time. Not the centre but still. Progress was there. Then it was there turn to do their real practising. Watching Ivar hit the bullseye with his axe each time as he glared at Sigurd made you thankful guns weren’t invented here. You almost told them about them but even if they were nice to you, you didn’t need to give them anymore ideas.

By the time you got back to Kattegat the sun was beginning to set and dinner was nearly ready. Bjorn joined you once again. Apparently, this was unusual for the Ironborn however it was Hvitserk who told you this and you quickly learned he was a massive gossip. Not that you were complaining. However thankfully for you Ragnar and Aslaug were not joining you. Its not that you didn’t like them, but Ragnar asked you a million question while she had a way of staring through your sole.

Somehow you ended up between him and Ivar and any time someone told a story your legend you didn’t understand he was quick to whisper in your ear. “What lies are you telling her brother?” Bjorn, who was sat across from you, asked as he was telling a story of his latest travels.

“That you truly are as tough as you look,” Hvitserk smirked. Despite not having Ivar’s rage or Sigurd’s instigation, Hvitserk was clearly able to hold his own.

Bjorn hummed disapprovingly before turning back to you, “How unfortunate you travel all this way to be stuck with these fools,” he said, glancing round the table, “Not a real man among them,”

“Maybe,” you said, deciding if you were going to be surrounded by argumentative Vikings you may as well try fit in, “Or maybe we have a different definition of a real man,”

“And what would your definition be?” he asked, putting his elbows on the table, and leaning in closer.

His eyes were locked on yours, so you decided instead to let yours look him up and down before sitting back, “Why? Do you need some lessons on how to be one?”

The younger Ragnorsson’s sniggered while Ubbe watched the whole scene carefully. Your eyes stayed locked on Bjorn’s until he sat back in his chair with a smile, “There’s hope for you yet, little one,” he said before dropping the smile, “Though I don’t recommend questioning me again,” The sight made your blood run cold but you did your best to smile, bringing a cup of wine to your lips as the meal soon continued.

-

Somehow you managed to escape from the brothers while they were distracted by finding a new crate of ale. While drinking wasn’t exactly restricted in university, they drank like it was a sport and there was no way you could keep up.

Even though you now wore a Vikings dress and apron there was some things from home you couldn’t let go of; modern underwear and sleeping in a comfy t-shirt. It was the one you had arrived in though admittedly you were going to have to wash it and your other clothes soon. The issue was that meant asking one of the brothers where or how to wash it and you had no desire for them to see these items. Well not yet at least.

 When you got back to your room you slipped out the starched dress and into the soft cotton shirt and got under your furs about to sleep. Before you could however the door opened. “Ivar?”

“My brothers bore me,” he sighed as he crawled over to your bed. You pulled the furs slightly closer, realising you only had the t-shirt on as your cheeks flushed. Ivar took no notice as he pulled himself up to sit beside you, “You were the only interesting one there,”

“A little flattery goes a long way,” you said but he quirked his head at that, “It’s an expression where I’m from,”

“Is flattery not a good thing?” he asked.

You shrugged, “Depends. My professor told me flattery and insults raise the same question; what do you want? Though I think he stole that from someone,”

“Well, all I want is your company,” he answered and at rare moments when you were alone Ivar didn’t look blood thirsty and terrifying. In fact, he seemed kind of gentle as he let a small smile escape. You couldn’t help letting out a light laugh, “Though I don’t understand how someone can steal words,”

Again, you shrugged, “I guess our people just value different things,” you said as a silence washed over you both.

After a few moments Ivar broke it, “I don’t think so. I think, deep down, all we all want is to be safe,” he said it quietly, as if he was worried someone may eaves drop.

It broke your heart a little though, “I suppose but I would’ve said happy,”

“Happy is a dangerous emotion,” he said, staring off into the distance, “everyone craves it, so they chase it, but they assume there is only so much of it to go around so they steal it. I do not need to be happy. Just content,”

You weren’t sure why you grabbed his hand, but you gave it a soft squeeze. His cheeks tinged pink, but you pretended not to notice, “I think content is a different kind of happy. Maybe if we were all so content with it, we could all be happy,”

“Maybe,”

“It’s a dangerous word,” you said.

Ivar snorted, “How can a word be dangerous?”

“How can happiness be?” you shot back with a small smile.

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[pinkykats-place]

Vikings x Reader Insert Fics

Tumblr Recommendations

Disclaimers!

None of the stories linked are mine.

Mostly female reader inserts.

Some contain mature content.

Gifs are not mine.

Feast

Ragnarssons x fem!Reader

Summary: During a feast, the sons of Ragnar can’t seem to take their eyes off you as they watch you enjoy yourself.

Una Flor Masterlist

Ragnarssons x fem!Reader

Summary: When someone returns from a journey, one would expect for them to return with trinkets and gifts from the journey. Apparently, Ragnar didn’t get the message and instead returned with a foreign flower his family wasn’t expecting.

Series: Where Am I?

modern!f!reader x (to be determined...) Ubbe, Ivar, Sigurd, Hviserks, (future) Bjorn

Series Summary: After falling head first the reader wakes up face to face with a group of strangely dressed men who look eerily like the vikings she studies.

Series: Shield-Maiden

The Ragnarssons x fem!Reader

Series: Blood.

Reader is Ragnar’s daughter

Summary: the lives of ragnar lothbroks children, their stories, their legacies will be told for years to come. his five sons.........and his only living daughter.

Kissed by Fire Masterlist

Ragnar x Reader, others x reader

Series summary: Ragnar Lothbrok and his crew are blown off course on their journey home. Coming to a place known as Iberia, he becomes infatuated by the only daughter of the leader of this foreign land that he intended to marry off to his son. Upon marrying her, it changes the life of his young sons forever.

An Irish Heathen?

Hvitserk x fem!reader

Summary: When Hvitserk brings a salve home from Ireland all the brothers start to take interest in her at a feast.

She is not a bird

Hvitserk x fem!Reader

SUMMARY: In Eddas, every great warrior falls in love with a Valkyrie - a winged goddess equally beautiful and imposing. Hvitserk finds his after a battle as she's stitching wounds and bringing comfort to those who will not see another dawn.

Three times when Hvitserk gives you his food

Hvitserk x Reader

Life After Death

Bjorn Ironside x Female Reader

Summary: Your relationship is dying, about to die and you know the only way to get better was to end the relationship. Before you could end the relationship, you find out that he was unfaithful the entire time you were together. Leaving you heartbroken and carrying his unborn child inside of you. As well as your sons.

Sitting Down on Their Lap

Vikings x Reader

@peaceisadirtyword ’s Vikings Masterlist

@honestsycrets ’s Vikings Masterlist

[jadelynlace]

"All the Time"⎮ Ink Drinker Deleted Scene⎮Modern Vikings AU [Ivar x F!Reader]

read more of Ink Drinker here.

Author's Note: Yeah, it's the super smutty piece I warned you all about. In hindsight, maybe it's not all that raunchy? I don't know. You can tell me. Also, fun fact! While I wrote this, my captain sat across the table from me, completely oblivious (he figured I was writing my care reports, and I was. Kinda). I literally have the best poker face.

Word Count: Just under 2,000 words (of porn)

Conversation falls around you. In the cool air of the evening you’ve grown comfortable with your legs thrown over Ivar’s thighs, sitting at an angle as his hand hooks around your shoulder. Drowning out the words around you as you scroll on your phone to decompress your social battery, bombarded with videos from Hvitserk as he thinks that’s a successful way to use his energy during his over time shift. And, quite frankly, he’s right.

“But where are people finding the time?” A voice says. “I work a full time job, I go to the gym, and I’m trying to get a full 8 hours of sleep and cook for myself—where do people find the time to date? To even hook up?” The voice continues.

“Ivar and I fuck all the time,” You say, and you don’t even really realize that you said it out loud until Ivar’s hand is over your mouth.

“That’s really all the input you have for the conversation?” Another voice says. You’re quick to lick Ivar’s palm as he lets out an estranged noise, wiping your salvia on your back.

“I’d have more of an input if we were actually having a conversation,” You mutter back.

“Why on earth would you lick my fucking palm?” Ivar says, shooting you a look. You lean into his ear closely before speaking:

“You don’t seem to be too upset when I lick the other things you put near my mouth,” 

There’s a low rumble from Ivar’s chest as he registers what you’re saying and you smile.

“What can we use as an excuse to leave?” He whispers to you.

“The fact that I work in the morning?” You try and Ivar just nods at that.

You climb off of him, standing with a stretch and you feel eyes on you.

“Leaving already?” Someone whines.

“Well, as riveting as this conversation is regarding your ability to not adapt to being adult,  I do have to work in the morning. So I am going to get those 8 hours of sleep you keep talking about,” You say.

“Well then, why are you leaving, Ivar?” 

“Uh, because I don’t want to wake her up in the middle of the night when I come home from the bar?” Ivar answers, as if it’s the most obvious thing.

“You can spend the night with me!” Aiden teases. 

“You have one bed,” Ivar tells him. 

“Exactly,” Aiden smirks.

“Do you…do you want to spend the night with him?” You tease. 

“No, no I do not,”

“Alright, why don’t you kiss him goodbye then,” You add, patting Ivar’s chest and Ivar shakes his head.

Aiden offers him a kiss through the air, and a wave, but Ivar only flips him off, rounding the corner to leave. Not a second passes before Ivar turns back around, looking at Aiden and returning that kiss through the air. 

*

You’re all but tossed onto the bed, a quick display in both Ivar’s strength and his dominance has you landing suddenly against the pillows before her’s climbing over you. Wasting no time as he comes to cover your body with his, mouth seeking yours. 

“Oh, so you really weren’t that mad at my comment,” You try, seeing if it’ll fuel his fight. Ivar doesn’t say anything as his mouth travels past the shell of your ear, meeting he nape of your neck and his teeth nip at your flesh. “Because revealing to them that we have “sex all the time” was not necessarily a lie,”

“Stop,” Ivar says suddenly, his blue eyes coming to catch yours. They flash with a quick display of anger, momentarily muting your brain and making you refocus on him. And how he’s in charge right now. 

“Stopping,” You peep back. 

“Good girl,” Ivar groans, mouth catching yours for a kiss that is all tongue. He would smile to himself at how well he knows you, but his lips are occupied. 

The last articles of his clothing are flung across the room as Ivar moves again, pushing his knee to divide your legs as they instinctively part for him. You can feel his hardness against your cunt throbbing, as Ivar’s hands come on each side of your head, pressing his weight through them while you both catch your breath. Hungry eyes trace you, and the wisps of the ends of his hair tickle your chest as his head tips to watch the space where you two are about to be connected. 

A low grumbles comes from Ivar’s chest as your hand reaches down, spreading your lips for him to see you. The same hand reaches up, grabbing Ivar’s chin as you pull his mouth towards yours again. 

“Are you waiting for something?” You tease him. 

Settling his legs over you, Ivar pulls away, shifting his weight as his hand grabs his length, The other rungs through his hair, pushing it from his view before tapping himself against you. Meeting your teasing with his own, the head of his cock finds your bundle of nerves, pressing ever so slightly as he hears you gasp. Your eyes flutter shut, bunching the sheets at your sides as his cock glides through your wetness. 

Ivar suddenly stops, a slow string of spit coming from his lips as it lands against your mouth. His fingers collect it, pressing them towards your clit before he takes them down his shaft. 

Pushing your hips into him, Ivar responds by slowing his motions, biting his bottom lip as his cock sinks into you, bottoming out until he’s flush against you. A deep moan climbs from his chest while he savors you fluttering around him. 

You reach at him, pulling him over you as his arms plant on each side of your head, moving before digging his fingers into your hair while his hips start up. Quickly they take force, slamming into you as the bed rocks against the walls. You hardly have a moment to grasp the sensation of how he feels inside of you, before he gets faster, moaning in your ear.

“Ivar,” You squeak. “Slow—” You grit out. “Slower,” You say and he stops, nuzzling against your head as his hips come to a halt. “Give a woman a chance to breath before you take away my ability to walk,” You mumble to him as you shift your body and Ivar only snickers from somewhere over you. 

Pulling back, Ivar lets go of your hair, smoothing it out slightly as he seeks out your lips again, humming into the kiss as your hands dance along his back. His hips roll lazily, your wetness collecting between you two and you offer him a sweet moan. 

“There are much better ways to take me if you want to go that fast,” You whisper to him. Ivar feels you push at him before his climbs back to let you move. Watching you crawl onto your stomach he pulls at your hips himself, positioning himself behind you while you nuzzle against the bed. His cock presses into you again, his chest coming over your back as the warmth radiates from him. Jutting the two of you up the bed, Ivar’s hips move as he wraps an arm around your waist, his free hand finding yours. 

Ivar’s thrusts are met with you pushing against him, chasing his cock in the brief moments it’s away from you while you hear the moans coming from his mouth. With your thighs shaking under him, you can’t help but moan his name, egging him on. 

As he chases his release, Ivar’s mind empties as he moves, your walls quivering around him with his arm attempting to pull you closer, even with no additional space. Through each grunt, each sweet sound you sing to him, Ivar’s muscles tense, the ache in his balls nearing an end before he pulls out of you suddenly. Moving away before he flips you in one quick display of his strength. 

Ivar moves again with his orgasm taking over his body. You feel the string of seed against your skin, watching him before you. Abs quivers as he breathes quickly, the final drops dribble from his flushed head, throbbing as it slides down his shaft. Only then is it collected as his fist moves to grab himself, and tap again against your cunt, swirling his essence against your mound. 

After a whisper of a moment, his fingers slide through your slit and press into you, curling them right against your sweet spot. Ivar leans over, lips hungrily against yours. As he feels your nails in his back, your teeth sink into his bottom lip while he pumps his fingers. 

Your mouth opens to moan and Ivar pushes his forehead against yours.

“Give it to me, Goddess,” Ivar whispers, “Come for me,” 

You can only whine in response, breathing deeply as Ivars fingers move, his eyes on yours and you can’t look away. His thumb comes against your clit, pressing in circles and you hum as the pleasure takes over your body. Your lashes flutter, a heat low in your belly as the coil tightens, as Ivar growls for you to open your eyes again.

“Look at me when you come,” Ivar tells you. Your eyes open as a blush covers your cheeks, the band finally snapping as you moan. Sinking your nails into his back before they move, grabbing his hair in an attempt to ground yourself as your orgasm rushes through your body. You grab his face again, pulling it back towards you to regain some control, as your mouth seeks his. 

Ivar slows his fingers as his breathing matches yours, lips lazily tackling one another as a satisfied groan comes from him. Moving, Ivar settles back over you, placing his weight carefully to cover you as you latch around him. Your hands take their turns from tracing his spine, to scratching his head as the man deflates above you, nuzzling into your cheek and you can’t help but smile. 

Moving again and putting his weight on his elbows, Ivar looks down at you, bumping your nose with his.

“Hi,” He says quietly.

“Hi, handsome,” You say back, a smile on your face. 

“You don’t…you don’t even work in the morning,” Ivar finally realizes. 

“I know,” You giggle and Ivar huffs, collapsing back over you. 

Tags:

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full masterlist can be found here.

[istorkyou]

The Price Of Love (Modern!Ivar AU)

A Modern!Ivar x F Reader

Warnings - See individual chapters. STRICTLY 18+

Synopsis - Money isn’t everything.

Word Count - 1584

Note - This is the second fic I ever wrote and I’m not sure why I never posted it. I think I started writing The Arrangement not long after and kind of fell out of love with this one. Still, it’s been festering in my completed docs for well over a year so I figure I might as well post it 😬 It’s fluffy, and maybe a little cheesy (and by a little I mean a lot!) so if that’s your bag I hope you enjoy it!

Moodboard - The beautiful moodboard is made the magical, amazing @serasvictoria. Thank you so much xxxx

This was beta read by my aussie wife who has left Tumblr. All love, all the time Lou x

Tag List - Let me know if you want on or off :)@smears-and-spots @punkrocknpearls​​ @youbloodymadgenius​​ @momowhoo​​ @zuxiezendler​​ @not-another-viking-fanfic-blog​ @ivar-s-my-brat-tamer​ @pieces-by-me​ @heavenly1927​​ @berryonasummerevening @synnersaint​​ @out-of-the-box-and-into-alchemy​ @petite-hime​​ @serasvictoria​​ @mimiiinspace​​ @itsmysticalmystery​​ @lonewolf471​​ @mylifeisactuallyamess​​ @draculasbride-blog​​ @love-all-things-writing​​ @southernbe​​ @redhead7799​​ @kaybee87​​ @ivarlover​​ @ivarhoegh​​ @idgafiamallthefandoms​​ @darkphoenix5037​​ @profoundtyrantharmony​​ @snarling-through-our-smiles​​ @crazyunsexycool​​ @xceafh​​ @bragisrunes​​@noway4u @batmandallyboy​​ @complicatedbutrare @readsalot73​​​​ @meandmycherrytree @mymindfuckery

Masterpost

CHAPTER 15

Nine months of dating Ivar. Nine months of happiness. Nine months of amazing sex. Nine month of love.

The interest in your relationship publicly has definitely reduced, mostly because the pair of you don’t go anywhere the photographers would be. Ivar has adapted to your lifestyle easily and fits into your world perfectly. You still struggle sometimes fitting into his world, but you are getting better at the glitzy parties and rubbing shoulders with the extreme wealth in your city. You much prefer it when you guys do normal things together though.

You have become friends with his brothers, they were easily won over, especially Hvitserk. He and Iris have been on a few dates and he seems besotted with her. She likes him a lot but is being very ‘Iris’ about the whole thing and is playing it cool.

Ubbe is dating someone new and, aside from cracking a couple of jokes in the beginning, leading Ivar to threaten to murder him, in a seriously scary tone, your ‘thing’ is long forgotten.

Since the ball you haven’t seen too much of Aslaug, she has been away, staying in her house in Iceland for months.

She calls you the week she gets home and she comes to visit your shop.

You bond over your mutual love of fashion. She spends a long time looking through all the clothes you stock and buys some dresses and some jewellery.

“You have a really good eye, Y/N. A wonderfully eclectic mix of fashion in stock. Have you thought about expanding? Opening more boutiques across the city?” She asks curiously.

“I have, I am hoping to by the end of next summer, I just need to make sure the business plan is foolproof, find a space, blah blah! It will be a lot of work.”

“I can help, I am always looking to invest in small local businesses…” she trails off and raises her eyebrows.

“Aslaug, without wanting to sound ungrateful, because I really am grateful for the offer, I’ve got my heart set on doing it all by myself.” You give a determined look.

“Although, if you know anyone in real estate that can give me a heads up of any suitable spaces becoming available I will gladly take that help,” you give her a cheeky smile.

“It just so happens I do know some people who could help with that. I will get in touch with them,” she gives you a wink.

“Also, the jeweller who made the bracelet and necklace you bought could maybe use some help, she’s amazing but hasn’t managed to get herself a proper workshop. If you were interested? Her name is Sadie.” You hand Aslaug one of Sadies cards which she slips into her purse.

“You are a very determined young woman, Y/N. I can see why Ivar loves you so much. What time do you lock up the shop? We should go and get cocktails.”

“Yes! I bloody love a good cocktail, come back at 4pm?”

You think you might have finally cracked the cool exterior, Ivar will be so pleased and your heart swells.

—————

You wake up early on Christmas morning and throw on an oversized hoody, before Ivar is stirring and you grab the heavy present on the kitchen counter and head to the elevator.

It opens on the ground floor and you head in over to the reception desk.

“Preston, Happy Christmas!” You shout and laugh as he jumps out of his skin. You hand him over the present.

“What’s this?” He looks in disbelief.

“A pressie, open it!” You are so excited.

He opens the present to see a state of the art coffee machine and his face lights up.

“What? Why? You shouldn’t have done this, Y/N.” His face is tinged with annoyance.

“Oh shush, you always look knackered, we thought you could use it,” you retort.

“Wow, thanks so much, I don’t know what to say.“ He holds his hands up.

“Just a gesture for putting up with Ivar’s rude ass for all these years! Are you going home to your family soon?”

“He’s not so rude anymore.” He tells you with a wink “I finish in 30 minutes,” he says happily. “Happy Christmas, Y/N, thank you.”

“Happy Christmas, have a great day. Hope the twins are happy with their bikes.” You give him a quick hug then head towards the elevator.

When it dings and the door opens Ivar is standing, with his arm above his head looking at the floor and his eyes travel up you until reaching your face and creasing with laughter.

“Will that never get old?!” You ask him in fake annoyance, he knows you find it adorable.

“Happy Christmas, baby! Did Preston like his present?” He asks, pulling you in for a big kiss.

“Yep, he was very happy,” you bury your face in his neck.

“Do you want your present?” Ivar asks with a cheeky smile on his face.

“Is it an orgasm?” You ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Later,” he laughs out, “come on, it’s in the bedroom.”

“This is getting more interesting..” he looks back with a withering look.

“Get your mind out of my pants, filthy girl,” he wags a finger at you.

“Can I give you my present first? I’m so excited!” He laughs at you and nods.

You run to your side of the bed and pull out an envelope, skipping to him to hand it over. He opens the envelope and reads the Christmas card inside, smiling. He opens the card and two pieces of paper fall out. He picks them up with a furrowed brow, reading the words on them.

“Wha..what is this? Japan? You bought us tickets to travel to Japan?!” Pure disbelief on his face. He keeps looking back at the tickets and to you, clearly having trouble processing the information in front of him.

“What the fuck? This is too much, Y/N! We said small gifts.” His face is shocked.

“Meh, you are worth it. Are you ok? Do you want to go? I thought we could go and try some authentic sushi? Remember when I first came here?” You are searching his face for any sign of happiness.

“Y/N, this is too much. You can’t afford this.” His face still shows nothing but shock.

“I can baby, I wouldn’t have bought them if I couldn’t afford it, you know that. The shop has been doing amazing. Do you not want to go?” Your voice is small and dejected.

“Are you kidding me? It’s my number one place I want to visit! Oh my god I’m so excited, I'm just in shock, baby. Thank you! Thank you so much. I’ve never had a gift like this before.” He pulls you in for a crushing hug, kissing you all over your face and neck until you are swatting him away.

“Do you want to open your gift?” He asks excitedly.

He walks to his drawers and pulls out a big black box with a giant gold ribbon tied in bow. He hands it to you and sits close to you, watching your face intently as you undo the bow. You lift the lid on the black box and pull out a red box that you recognise. It’s one of Sadies.

You look at him and his face is so earnest you give him a kiss.

“Open it,” he urges you.

You open the box and inside is the most beautiful necklace you’ve ever seen. It has three platinum chain mail chains twisted round each other all joined together with a diamond on each clasp. It has a round platinum pendant on it, around the edge there is an engraving and in the middle is a beautiful, green stone.

“Ivar……” you look up at him, your eyes misting up.

“I need to explain it!” He is like an excited puppy.

“I designed it, with a little help from Sadie. It’s platinum and diamonds on the clasps..” the look on his face is one of pure amusement, you can’t help but laugh at him despite wanting to act offended, a clear call back to the unwanted bracelet he gave you.

“The circle of the pendant represents my never ending love for you,” his face changes from amusement to seriousness.

“The engraving is the date I first laid eyes on you.” You bring it closer to your face to read it.

“The date of the merger party.” You tell him, with a big soppy smile on your face.

“And the green sapphire in the middle is the exact colour of the blazer you were wearing when we met. I knew from that very moment you were the one for me. Forever and always.”

You don't know what to say, your eyes well up with tears.

“Do you like it, Y/N?” He asks nervously.

“It’s the most beautiful, thoughtful present. I love it.” You wipe your tears of happiness and kiss him. “You can't tell me off for the gift I got you, this must have cost a fortune, Ivar,” he just shrugs and grins.

“I left a space on it for another engraving. I am going to get it engraved with the date I ask you to be my wife.” his voice is smaller than before and his face is red with a blush. You gasp at his words and pull him close for a cuddle.

“Just for future reference, I will say yes.

THE END - thanks for reading :)

[mrsarnasdelicious]

Alright, Yous asked for this - PART TWO

So, the list of all my drafts doesn't fit in one part...

Riding the Beasts SCP 682 smut CW: Monsterfucking

Sihtric AU-arama Just all osrts of Sihtric AUs, in a long, big list.

Some good ass edging Edging Modern!Sihtric, straight up smut

I'll Be Your Prize [Finan x Sihtric] Uhtred tells Finan he can ask for the thing he wants most, so Finan asks for Sihtric.

The Things We Do With Power - I The Boys fic, mild fix it, predominantly wicked smut.

A very old promise Once Upon the beginning of my blog, I promised to write a certain poly smut thing, so here goes nothing.

All About A Gag Sihtric x Finan x Osfert. Sihtric fakes a gag and Finan is not having it.

Domestic - Lan Mandragoran Lan x Reader, being cute.

One Big Bed Poly Wheel of Time smut. Rand is a slut in this one.

The Pantsident Mark tore his pants. Mark x Reader smut

A Long Drive [Marnas] Mark rips his pants and Arnas makes full use of the situation.

Orgasm Desperation - Stephen Colley Stephen x Reader, with reader making Stephen beg for it.

BoB Sexarama Shameless, plotless smut headcanons.

A3 - Throuple Aethelflead x Aldhelm x Aethelred headcanons

BoB Poly Family BS You get involved with Finan, Sihtric and Osferth and raise children with them. Modern verse, headcanon list

Band of Bebbanburgh - XII - Getting Ink Done Uhtred, Osferth, Finan and Sihtric are getting tatted and Sihtric likes it a bit too well.

First Kiss - Draco Malfoy Set during book six.

First Kiss - Eric Northman Simple as.

Basically every thought I have ever had about Sihtric, but in a pile Full ass headcanon dump on my very fav himbo.

Good Good Good, Good Vibrations Mr F uses a vibe on reader, in public, sorta.

Orgasm Desperation - Game!Lambert Needy Needy Lambertini.

Lambert in the Middle Lambert getting some DP from Eskel and Geralt.

Another Lovely Puppy Pile Reader x Many witchers (and Jaskier)

Band of Bebbanburgh - XI - Tetanus Uhtred 'challenges' Sihtric to catch a pigeon. Hoemboy gets pecked and scratched, but has no tetnaus immunisation, so Finan and Osferth have to wrangle him to go to the dco's. Sihtirc does not like doctors and has to be pacified with sexy times from his boyfriends.

Giving Birth to Sihtric's Child It is not reader's first and it will most certainly not be the last.

TLK Underworld AU Headcanon List about a mafia au of sorts

Finan Eating You Out He's good with his mouth, let's be real

How He Met Me - VI August POV version of The Prophet [fic]

At the Desk - Napoleon Solo Napoleon Solo fucking reader on her desk, Arranged Marriage verse.

Sex in the Changing Room - Modern!Sihtric Raunchy dirty naughty Sihtric fucking reader in the changing rooms of the local clothing store.

On the table - Sihtric Canon verse, he humps you on the table

Sex in the Bath - Captain Syverson Bath sex with Sy

Ever Curiouser - I Hellboy Longfic, polyship.

Some Bebbanboys smut, bc I am nasty Smutty stuff with Sihtric x Finan x Osferth

Ben Daimio x Werewolf Reader A beastly smut

The Bebbanboys Band AU headcanons

Ben Daimio - Sneaking Around Smutty, you and Ben avoid getting caught while fucking on the job

Sweetheart Prompt #3 Ivar Lothbrok, suprise surprise

Band of Bebbanburgh - X - What Sihtric Does Best Smut fest about Sihtric sucking dick

Ulysses Klaue Smut Does exactly what it says on the tin.

No Way We Are Making Homework - Modern Ubbe Modern Ubbe x Reader. You should be making homework, but you are not.

Nasty Nasty Dirty Gross Ubbe CW: Incest Ubbe uses one specific way of making Hvitserk listen.

Ubbe x Alfred - Modern AU Ubbe and Alfred shower together.

This Home I Built - TLK Poly Fest Selfish fix it fic, lotsa smut, mainly about Sihtric.

Santiago Garcia Breeding Kink V1 Santi knocking you up.

Alpha Geralt Going Feral Nasty smut with no excuses

Sihtric - Breeding Kink V1 Sihtric knocking you up

Omega Sihtric Going Feral Needy Omega Sihtric

Alpha Geralt Scenting You Scenting sesh getting out of hand.

Santiago Garcia - Rough Sex Ah yes, more shameless porn with no plot.

Scenting Omega Sihtric Scenting Omega Sihtric gets out of hand.

My Fair Lady Shameless Aldflaed smut

Expectations - Loki Shameless Loki smut

Choking Sam Winchester Reader applying some pressure to a big moose, sexually.

At Saltwick What happened between Sihtric, Finan and Osferth while the kids were asleep.

Sex in Public - Sihtric Canon verse.

Neteyam x Au'Nung Neteyam almost died and Au'Nung is distressed.

Proof That I am an Aweful Person [TLK Poly stuff] More ReaderxPretty Boys headcanons

Fjall Stoneheart - Doggystyle Shameless smut

Band of Bebbanburgh - IX - Seeking Refuge Osferth goes to Finan when his homelife starts turning for the worst.

Breeding V1 - Jake Sully Jake Sully knocking you up.

Band of Bebbanburgh - VIII - Show You How Sihtric teases Osferth how to please Finan

Band of Bebbanburgh - VII - Small Comforts Finan having himself a slice of Sihtric.

Band of Bebbanburgh - VI - Sihtric's Dream Sihtric wakes up from a bad dream and Finan and Osferth put him at ease.

By God(s) and Men - Finan x Sihtric Canon verse; Sihtric and Finan figure out their dynamic.

The Baker's Boy - Finan x Sihtric Modern AU; Finan just realised he's been in love with Sihtric all along.

The Witan - Mark/Arnas/Reader CW: RPF and RPS Established Arnas x Reader and Past Marnas. Arnas convinced reader to come along to a TLK cast vaca and things spin swiftly out on his control.

All Three of Them Reader x Sihtric x Finan x Osferth smut

Threesome with Sihtric and Osferth Shameless smut with a lil twist

Threesome with Sihtric and Finan Dirty smutty smut smut smut

[kaybee87]

Kaybee87 Masterlist

Here finally is a list of my fics! All my stuff is 18+ so minors please DNI.

I am slowly making my way through the Viking series so I will probably write more for the characters at a later date but for now I am concentrating on writing for Marco/Hvitserk, Alex/Ivar and Ubbe/Jordan.

Heat - Ubbe x F!Reader

Heat Version 2 - Ivar x F!Reader

Therapy Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 - Ivar x F! Reader

Loosing Your Grip on Reality - Alex/Ivar x F!Reader

The Holiday Hvitserk x F!Reader

Haircut Marco Ilsø x F!Reader

Red Marco Ilsø x F!Reader

Comic-Con Prompt - Marco Ilsø x F!Reader

An Unexpected Desire - Marco/Alex/Jordan x F!Reader

[disasterofastory]

The Wanderer (Ivar x Reader)

The Wanderer Ivar x Reader Warnings: nudity, Ivar is a stalker but we already know that

A/N: Dear Anon, I hope it’s close to what you wanted (I don’t remember Daenery’s entrance). Enjoy!

It's already late when you arrive at Kattegat. The stars glint in the dark sky among the black clouds. The heavy scent of the rain lingers in the air, mixing with the salty ocean. A goat cries out in the distance, making a few dogs bark in answer. Being on the road for long weeks can be rather lonely, so you really enjoy these small things. It reminds you of your own hometown. The view of the buildings is familiar and strange at the same time. The village has grown since the last time you have been there.

The loud noises of the feast and the burning torches help you on your way to the Great Hall. You slip inside the robust building without anyone paying attention to your cloak-covered figure. The heat of the fire slaps you across the face, warming you up in mere seconds. Your nostrils fill with the smell of ale and freshly made meals as you look over the hall through your lashes. Your gaze lands on the long table with Lagertha in the middle. The woman is still beautiful with her blonde hair and bright blue eyes.

You can still remember her deadly gaze on the battlefield. Blood splattered across her face. The heavy sword rose in her hand.

Making your way to the main table, you halt in front of the famous shieldmaiden. You watch her expression change as she tries to see through the shadow hiding your face. The soft lines of her face harden, and a scowl appears between her brows.

The Great Hall gets quiet behind you. A few of Lagertha's women reach down to their swords. Their eyes burn you.

A smirk pulls on your lips. "What do I have to do to get some ale here?"

You push the hood of your cloak back, letting the fabric fall from your head.

Lagertha's mood changes immediately. A smile spreads across her lips as she looks over your form.

"Y/N," she gasps, standing up from her seat. "I didn't know you would visit."

"I got thirsty."

Y/N, daughter of Y/F/N. The shieldmaiden. The Wanderer. The fearless woman who belongs to the dirt roads and stormy waves. Your name is well-known among the Vikings. Ivar heard stories about your battles even though you are barely a few years older than him. The warriors who were lucky enough to see you fighting say you are like a goddess among men. You are graceful and deadly. There is gossip about you taking the dead to Valhalla.

Ivar watches you sitting beside Lagertha. Ale sloshes on your hand as you grab the cup with too much enthusiasm. You laugh at your clumsiness, not caring about the liquid dripping down on the wooden table. Your eyes shine with warmth and a bit of ale as you look over the hall, smiling and nodding at the familiar faces.

"Who is she?" Hvitserk asks, looking your way too. Ivar doesn't react but listens closely to what Ubbe has to say about you.

"She is Y/N," Their older brother replies, and while Hvitserk stays in the dark, Ivar immediately knows who you are.

"I didn't hear about her," Hvitserk replies, and Ivar can't help but grunt in answer before Ubbe can open his mouth.

"Because you are an idiot."

Ubbe, instead of stopping their fighting, just smirks. His bright eyes are on his youngest brother, who still stares at you. There is an awe in his icy blue gaze, under the constant anger and defiance.

That's a no.

Ivar watches you drinking and laughing. He can hear your voice as you greet Bjorn with a mocking comment about his womanizer lifestyle. Their half-brother looks you up and down without shame, making Ivar's blood boil in his veins.

"Maybe you should introduce yourself," Ubbe says.

The brunette's frown deepens as he turns his attention to his brother.

You stay in Kattegat for a few more days, enjoying the delicious meals and the warm bed. Sometimes you even forget how comfortable it is to sleep in clean sheets and soft furs. You don't have to worry about wild animals or wilder people.

And there is something else too. Someone else.

Ivar became obsessed with you. The young man can't find the courage in himself to come to you, but he still doesn't waste a chance to watch you from afar. You can feel his eyes on you constantly, and you would be a liar if you said you weren't enjoying it. There is something flattering and exciting about being the center of the young Viking's attention.

You continue your way out of the cold water, not hiding behind your arms or the clean towel as you dry yourself. You let Ivar's eyes wander on your body, stopping at your breasts, lingering on your hard nipple, and continuing their way between your legs. Your skin is covered with long-healed wounds and scars. There is a history for each of them.

You are in the river, ready to get out when you feel it again. It burns your skin and bubbles in your chest with anticipation.

He is here somewhere.

You search your surroundings through your lashes, trying to hide the smirk that pulls on your lips when you notice his form behind the bushes.

After you get dressed in simple pants and a tunic, you grab your things and don't hesitate to make eye contact with the brunette. His eyes widen, but he doesn't back off as a frown appears between his brows. It seems like there is always a frown on his handsome but still boyish face. He doesn't avert his gaze as you get closer, even though the sway of your hips almost makes him surrender.

"You are Ivar, right?" You speak up when you stop in front of him. He sits on the ground, his useless legs tied together.

"I am," he answers. There is a defiant offense in his tone. He is angry at you even before you say anything. The young man is ready for it. He can already hear you mocking him and telling him to stay away from you. A creep. A cripple. A useless Viking. What may he want from a woman like you? A great warrior. A beautiful woman.

"Your brother told me about your… fondness for me."

Ivar opens his mouth to say something, but no words leave his plump lips. The soft skin of his cheeks changes into a lovely shade of pink as he looks away from you. He is embarrassed, and he hates the feeling. It makes him weak and humiliated.

"I'm disappointed you didn't come to talk to me," you continue, leaning down to cup his jaw.

His eyes snap back at you, lips apart. He doesn't want hope to take root in his chest, but your heavy gaze doesn't let him have any other option.

You are more beautiful up close. Your nose is a bit crooked from breaking a few times, and there is a pale line on your cheekbone. An old wound.

"You are?" He croaks out.

Your warm breath fans over his face as you speak. "I have to continue my journey tonight, but I have a feeling we will meet again."

Ivar's heart beats against his ribcage, and his blood drums in his ears when your lips ghost over his. The only thing that keeps him leaning closer is your hold on his jaw.

"Because you and me, Ivar the Boneless," you continue. "We are fated."

[mystic-shadows42]

Personal Advisor

Pairing: Ivar x f! reader (one-shot)

Warnings: Mention of violence

Summary: You’re known as being Ivar’s biggest supporter. Not only that but the only person he can trust and is willing to listen to.

The door to your room flung open as Ivar entered, nostrils flared, and muscles tense as he used his crutches to move inside. This happened to be a normal occurrence. Ivar often comes to you when he needs to speak on matters he deems to be important. You took great pride in his trust.

“I want to go to battle.”

You’ve known Ivar for many years. He’s impulsive and driven but loyal to a fault. There was not one incident that’s happened that you didn’t know how to handle. There was no point. You were a symbol of patience whenever he got overwhelmed.

You stopped what you were doing and looked at him. No matter what, he’s already set his mind on battle but it was your job to keep him grounded. To think of the bigger picture.

“Battle who?”

Ivar paced in the room. His crutches hitting the floor with more force than the last. You knew all the movement must be painful but he was too worked up to stop and think about the pain.

“My brothers,” he growled out.

“Which ones?”

Ivar clicked his tongue in distaste. “Björn and Ubbe.”

You befriended all the Lothbrok brothers. How could you not growing up in Kattegat. They were practically royalty.

The two elder brothers were smart and highly skilled in battle, especially Björn having tackled more than half a dozen more battles up his sleeve. He was a tactician, battle-tested, and had many followers.

Ubbe on the other hand would be considered more level-headed than them all. A peaceful but lethal opponent if anyone opposed him. No doubt Ivar was feeling all sorts of emotions at the moment between challenging his brothers and finally proving himself a worthy opponent worth fearing regardless of their relationship.

“Is Hvitserk with you on this?” You knew Ivar is more than capable of handling this himself but it’d make his odds better with at least one brother.

“He will be once we’re done speaking here.”

You nodded knowing that Hvitserk will most likely not want to be caught in the middle but will also like to prove himself against the others more so Ubbe than Björn.

“Is a battle really worth it?”

It was a simple question. Though it was enough to stop him in his tracks and look at you with those piercing eyes. A raw sense of emotion can be seen in them. He was determined and ready.

“It is to me.”

“If there is to be a worthy battle, you need fighters. More than just Kattegat warriors. You need allies. Alliances are needed to be set in place not only for this battle but for years to come.”

“We need to strike now when they’re least expecting it.”

You sighed knowing he was simply going through all the emotions at the moment. You needed to guide him back.

“Ivar,” when he didn’t look you spoke his name again, “Ivar.” Now you had his attention. “If you want to be the best you have to outsmart your brothers. Think beyond just a quick strike. You have great plans when it comes to strategies. Plans that all your brothers laughed at but worked out in the end. Don’t allow your anger to cloud your judgment.”

Ivar exhaled and closed his eyes. He needed to collect himself and gather his thoughts.

“Do you think I can do it? Defeat my brothers?”

There was no doubt in your mind that he can do it but he needs to believe it himself.

“Why do you doubt yourself?” You waited for an answer but Ivar was in deep thought. “You’re capable of anything you set your mind to. You can devastate them and shock everyone. Let only your name be known in history alongside your father. That’s what you can be capable of.”

Ivar opened his eyes and nodded. His father and his legacy was his biggest motivator.

“What else?”

At his question, he sounded more sure of himself.

“You need coin. If you can’t find allies, buy them. Buy ships or raid to gain.” 

Ivar faced your way but his eyes trailed towards the wall behind you as he thought of his next question.

“What happens if potential allies don’t think I am worthy because I’m a cripple?”

“It’s of the utmost importance to have allies and to adhere to their demands but if you really want to send a message,” you stood up from your spot and stopped just in front of Ivar. “Behead anyone that dares speak to you in such a way. Show them you’re worth fearing and more than capable of leading.”

Ivar smiled liking what he heard.

“Let them know that Ivar the Boneless has come to collect souls.”

[mylifeisactuallyamess]

Restore Me

Werewolf!Hvitserk x Werewolf!Reader

Masterlist

A/N: Sorry it’s all been a bit erm…delayed 🤣 I hope this chapter is worth the wait. Thanks @punkrocknpearls for having a mooch over it!

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, torture, blood, death mention, kidnap mention, smut,

Word Count: 6.8k+

Tagging: @kaybee87 @a-bang-for-your-bucky @strangunddurm @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @adrille88 (if you want adding or removing let me know 😘)

The house was quiet. Only the old creaking of the pipes reached your ears as you sat on the window seat. The lawn spread out before you, dipping slightly when it reached the line of trees. The sky was a rich blue that even Ubbe would have had difficulty replicating. Puffy white clouds drifted on invisible pathways, a journey only they and the wind were privy to.

Ragnar was out with Harald and Halfdan, laying traps and fortifying the border of your territory. Ivar was with his brothers, who had gone one town over to show their faces in their respective businesses and to put on a front that everything was running normally within the pack. Floki had disappeared under Ragnar’s orders, no doubt to go and dredge up some information from his sources.

Ragnar had confined you to the house, much to your frustration. Hvitserk, of course, was your keeper, staying with you even when you sat in silence or when you couldn’t take the silence anymore and needed to work your anger out. He took it all.

Nothing else had been heard from the other pack, no bodies had been unearthed and Nick was still missing. Your phone buzzed again, Marianne’s number came to life on your screen and once again it ripped open the thin veil you kept your guilt behind. From the previous messages she’d left, Nick was only supposed to have been gone a few days and you’d already used the excuse of an extended stay. It frustrated you, sitting here and doing nothing when you could be doing something. Anything.

Cocking your head, you tried to pinpoint where Hvitserk was but he wasn’t nearby. Pushing out of the seat, you made your way to the kitchen, pausing when you saw a figure outside. Hvitserk leaned on the concrete balustrade, coffee cup in one hand and a phone to his ear. The window was open, but you’d had enough of listening to people's conversations. Pushing the door for the basement open, you quietly went down the stairs. Your breath hitched, your feet pausing on the first step, but you forced yourself to descend.

It was dark, although your vision made up for it in differing shades of black and grey. A large table stood in the middle. Another map of your territory and beyond covered the top with a sheet of glass as the surface. Notes were jotted all around the side and different coloured dots showed the current whereabouts of known útlagi. Most of the positions had been recently updated. With Floki almost a loner wolf himself, he was able to tap into that network better than any known pack wolf could.

Your fingers ghosted over the city where you’d lived with Nick, the hole in your chest feeling emptier than ever before.

Your gaze rose from the map. The cage loomed against the far wall, its black bars scratched and dented but still holding strong. Fragments of memories echoed in your mind, brief snippets of conversation, your screams, the sound of the bars ringing loudly as you threw yourself at them.

Each step you took was slow, but you had to get closer. The faint scent of bleach burned your nostrils and you wrinkled your nose. Reaching for the bars you curled your hand around the metal, grateful to finally be on the other side.

“Please, help me!” you whispered. You lay on the floor covered in sweat, hair plastered to your scalp. Your clothes felt itchy and clingy. Your face was pressed against the bars but they didn’t feel cool anymore. You’d managed to shove your arm through the gap, your hand upturned in a pleading gesture as you begged to be set free. You didn’t want to die here but Ragnar crouched just out of reach, unmoving and unwavering in his decision. Your gaze drifted to see Ubbe standing to the side, his strong arms around his brother who sagged helplessly in his grip.

“Just let me go to her!” Hvitserk tried once again to free himself but Ubbe held him tightly.

“Just watch brother.”

“I can’t watch her die!” Hvitserk cried, his face wet with tears. “You’re going to kill her!” He snarled at Ragnar.

“You will watch, Hvitserk. And you will see the outcome of your actions. If she dies, I want this as a reminder that we never endanger ourselves like this again, to never risk an innocent’s life.” Ragnar turned to look at the others who lined the back of the room.

You had no idea there was such an audience available to watch you die.

“Please…” you whispered. Your back arched from the pressure, pain filtered through your blood and you felt like your skin was being peeled from your body. Ragnar leaned forward, falling to his knees gently on the concrete floor. You blinked up at him as he crawled closer.

“Don’t fight it. Give in. Surrender yourself.”

“What are you doing?” Hvitserk’s voice broke through the memory, releasing the grip it had on you, making you gasp a little in shock.

“Just remembering.” You moved away from the cage, turning your back on it and catching sight of the bookshelf that lined one of the walls. Every nook and cranny was filled with old scrolls or books all with information about the wolves and their history. If anyone was to make it down here they would know every intimate detail about everything you all tried to keep secret. Family trees, bloodlines tracked like royalty, bitten in wolves and their histories - it was all here.

“I can think of better places to go and remember nicer moments,” he joked.

“Who was on the phone?” you asked, ignoring his attempt at humour.

“Ubbe. Something about club business is booming. Ivar’s photography is still as popular as ever, blah blah.” He made a snapping motion with his hand to mimic someone talking but you zoned him out as you leaned heavily on the table. Your gaze tracked over the map, mouthing names as you reacquainted yourself with them all. A snarl gathered inside you, forcing your lip to curl even as you tried to keep it in. Fuelled by frustration and rage, the wolf bristled under your skin, her fur brushing against your skin, making everything on your body hyper aware of its surroundings.

“What use is this?” you growled, throwing an open hand at the map, the wolf rippled in your voice when you spoke. “We should be out there. I should be out there looking for him.”

“You’re safer here.”

Releasing the snarl, you could feel the vibrations of it reach the very ends of your fingertips.

“I am not some helpless damsel you can keep locked in a tower.”

“No. But I guarantee if it was anyone else in your position they’d be treated the same,” Hvitserk pointed out.

You wanted to wreck everything around you, to rip your way out of this suffocating house. The walls of the basement seemed to close in and you swallowed a growl, wishing you were anywhere else in the world.

Your head snapped up at the sound of someone on the driveway, the gravel crunching under each uneven footfall.

“Someone’s here,” you breathed. Following Hvitserk up the stairs, you pushed his hand away when he tried to tuck you behind him. The door burst open, followed by a pained grunt when a body was thrown into the hallway. It was a wolf; one you recognised. Floki’s shadow loomed over him as he shut the door and the metallic tang of blood and anger filled the air. Crouching down, you locked eyes with the grizzled man. Blood dripped from a cut on his lower lip, bruises littered his face and you could see Floki clearly had fun with him before bringing him here. Hvithár.

“Hvitserk, put our guest here in the cage.”

“Does he have information?” you asked as Hvitserk picked the old man up and shoved him towards the basement.

“I believe he does. But he won’t tell me.” Floki grabbed your arm and pulled you to a stop. “I don’t think you’re going to like where this leads,” he told you softly.

“If it leads me to saving Nick then I’ll take it.” Firmly pulling your arm free you followed Hvitserk, descending the stairs but this time there was no hesitation in your steps.

The sounds of Hvitserk throwing Hvithár into the cage echoed harshly in the stone room, but you knew that was the least of his worries. Usually once they were in the cage, they never came out alive.

“What did you find out?” You shot the question at Floki as you paced along the kitchen floor.

“He has been seen with someone from the British pack, a wolf named Aethelred. He’s even been seen near their pack house.”

“He could know where Nick is,” you murmured looking over at Hvitserk. “And he refused to confirm this? We should question him.”

“We should wait for Ragnar. Give them another day,” Floki suggested calmly but those were words you didn’t want to hear.

“Another day, another day for whoever has Nick to chop him up again. Another day for them to move and Hvithár’s information was worth nothing.” Turning to Hvitserk you saw he was slowly swiping his thumb along his bottom lip as he watched your restless pacing. “What do you say?”

“We should wait for Ragnar.” Scoffing in frustration you threw up your hands but he stepped forward. “I said we should. Doesn’t mean I’m going to.”

Floki tutted, covering his face with his hand.

“I must advise against this.”

“Advise all you like, Floki. Father will see we had no choice.” Hvitserk paused next to you, his honey hazel eyes locking with yours as his shoulder gently nudged your own. “I made a promise to you, elskede.” His gaze broke for a split second when you leaned into him, his pupils blowing wide as your scents mixed into a heady cocktail. His hand lifted as though he was going to sweep it along your cheek but it curled into a fist and his tongue came out to lick the corner of his mouth. The iris of his eyes began to flood with the orange of his wolf and your breath caught in your throat at the sight.

Hvitserk moved past you, his sigh of longing trailing behind him but then it was covered by the sound of him descending into the basement. Your gaze lowered, chin resting on your shoulder as you listened to the bars echoing as Hvithár threw himself against them.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Floki warned you in a quiet voice. You refused to look at him, telling yourself this door needed opening and that you’d do anything to get Nick back.

The wolf in the cage was huge; his white fur was mangy and you imagined in his prime he would have been magnificent. The snarls rolled relentlessly from him as he paced the length of the cage, teeth bared and the scar on his face evident even in this form.

“Clever,” you commented, crouching down to be level with the animal, not flinching when he snapped aggressively. “You think in this form you won’t be able to spill any information.” You smirked. “This isn’t our first rodeo.” Hvitserk came up beside you, a long pole in his hand that he shoved between the bars and pressed into the wolf’s side. You heard the drug being administered and he yelped loudly, turning to look at the end of the pole before going unsteady on his feet. Eventually the sedative took effect and the wolf fell on his side, tongue lolling out of his mouth, his breathing was steady and even.

“Won’t hold him for long,” Hvitserk said as he put the pole on the table.

“I’ll get the rope.” He grabbed your arm, gently pulling you to a stop.

“I can do this. Why don’t you wait upstairs?”

“No. I want to look into his eyes and make sure he’s telling us the truth.” Frustration filled Hvitserk’s expression and you felt his fingers tighten their grip. “I know who you are now, Hvitserk,” you whispered, studying the face you knew well, the face you’d loved so deeply you didn’t think you’d ever look at anyone else for as long as you lived. “I’ve seen the beast within and it doesn’t frighten me anymore.”

You pushed away from him, the feel of his fingers still burned onto the skin of your arm. Putting thick gloves on, you opened an old wooden chest and dragged out a long rope. The rope was thin but strong, silver had been twisted into the weave - just enough to singe a werewolves bare skin and weaken them. Hvitserk held Hvithár up like he weighed nothing and you wound the rope around his wrists, binding him to the bars of the cage. His toes barely touched the floor and you knew the first thing he’d do would be to try to find his footing when he woke up. You hauled the rope tight, feeling the tension as you tied the knot around the hook on the wall. Already his flesh was crackling from having contact with the silver and you wrinkled your nose against the smell.

For a second you debated leaving. Did you really want to see Hvitserk do this again? To see the bloodlust in his eyes, to see him possibly kill someone and enjoy it? That’s what made you leave in the first place, the violence of your new world and how they moved outside of human awareness. Maybe you were a hypocrite, because right now you’d do anything to get Nick back. This was your fault and now you had to suffer the consequences.

Hvitserk rolled out a leather tool kit and your stomach heaved slightly at the sight of it. Swallowing firmly, you tried to tap into the beast within you, the wolf that would enjoy the scent of blood, the cry of prey. The wolf would roar for violence and you needed that right now.

Sitting on the table, you watched Hvithár, listening to the way his heart sped up as he regained consciousness. He snarled wildly and he tried to shed his burning bonds. His eyes opened and you could see the hope die as soon as he saw Hvitserk standing before him.

“I wouldn’t change if I were you,” he spoke quietly but you both heard him clearly. “If you do, your bones will snap.”

“What do you fucking want with me?” Hvithár nodded in your direction. “Showing off to your little girlfriend. Last I heard, that didn’t work too well, hvalp.” It took all your control not to flinch when Hvitserk moved. The snap of breaking bone was loud, followed by Hvithár’s pained roar. Hvitserk grinned, pressing the prisoner's wrist flat against the bars as he inspected the bent back finger he’d just snapped in half.

“Tell us what you know about the new pack,” he spat.

“I don’t have to tell you anything,” Hvithár growled through his laboured breaths. You keep your eyes trained on the older wolf’s face, watching the way his eyes widened as Hvitserk sickeningly snapped another finger.

“That’s ok,” Hvitserk leaned in and grabbed his chin. “I’m just getting started.”

You had to dig deep, to lean on your hidden nature, to drag it out into the light and embrace it as Hvitserk drew blood and not words from Hvithár. The acrid stench of fear and anger was toxic, the blend of that with Hvitserk’s scent triggered your fight or flight response and you had to wrestle with yourself to stay. Blood dripped steadily from the strung- up wolf and his chest heaved with torn breaths.

Hvitserk threw the silver blade onto the table, leaning heavily on the surface and leaving behind bloody hand prints. Swiping his wrist along his forehead did nothing for the blood spatters on his skin. His wolf was flaming in his irises, growls rounding off each exhale as they rolled from his chest.

You broke the stillness, slipping off the table and approaching the beaten man as he hung on the bars. You could see the marks the silver had left on his skin, the deep cuts that refused to heal. His body wasn’t even trying.

“Where is the human?” you asked.

“I don’t kno…” he grunted when you pressed a finger into a deep cut on his side.

“You’ve been seen with the British wolf pack. Where did they take the human?” you asked again, baring your teeth as you twisted your finger in the wound. His eyes flared with bright yellow at the pain and you knew he was fighting the urge to change. Your own eyes sparked with the emerald green of your wolf and she urged you to dig deeper, to make him cry out in pain, to beg for mercy. Oh how she wanted to rip his throat out, to feel his last breath. Hvithár began to shake as he used whatever he had left within him to fight the waves of pain you were creating in his body. “Where is he?” you whispered. “Tell me and this will end.” The older wolf blew out his cheeks, sweat and blood fell into his rolling eyes as he tried not to give in. Snarling in frustration, you grabbed his throat. He wheezed roughly against your grip as you allowed the wolf to slip through, claws replacing your fingernails and you pierced the thin skin of his neck. His strangled bellow was like music to your ears and you sucked in a breath at the sound. His heart beat a faster rhythm, it tapped away under his ribs exciting the wolf inside you to an almost uncontrollable frenzy.

“Where is he?” you demanded. He gurgled, blood spilling from the corner of his mouth and he fought to breathe through the squeezing of your hand. Finally he managed to cough some words out and you listened closely.

“H-he’s on their land! They took him as bait. T-they want you. They want the secrets of the she-wolf!” he whispered.

Let him go! You were coming apart at the seams. Your wolf was bursting through and her lust for the kill was clouding your human senses as a red mist fringed your vision. Let him go! The smell of fear intensified and you felt your hand start to close firmly around his neck. It was like trapping a bird in your palm, feeling the terrified flutters as you choked him and marvelling at the power you exerted over him.

“No!” You were ripped away from Hvithár. Your hand came away covered with blood that glazed your skin. You were forced to look at Hvitserk, his hazel eyes searching yours. “This isn’t you.”

“What a way to go,” croaked Hvithár. “To die at the hands of her. Such pretty hands…” you looked between the pleading eyes of Hvitserk and the smug yellow eyes of your prey. “Maybe—maybe she didn’t run because was scared of you, hvalp.” Hvithár smiled as he breathed through the pain. “She was just scared of herself.”

Snatching away from Hvitserk, you backed towards the stairs, turning at the last second and leaving the basement. Floki tried to stop you but you shook him off, your hands leaving a bloody trail up the wall as you ran for your room. Maybe she was scared of herself…. You were about to take someone’s life and you knew for a fleeting moment you would have enjoyed it. Nausea turned your stomach, stumbling into your en-suite you wanted to wash off the blood that seemed to stick to you. To cleanse yourself of the fear and hatred that lingered on your skin.

Without thinking you stepped into your shower fully dressed, falling to the floor as you stared at your shaking hands. The water covered you, cold and icy as it seeped into your clothes, gently pattering away the redness and swirling it down the plug, numbing your body.

That’s how Hvitserk found you, teeth chattering with your hands still held out in the stream of frigid water. He didn’t say anything, just opened the glass door and sat down next to you, gathering your shivering body to his hot embrace and letting the water wash him clean as well. He nudged your head to lay on his chest, curling a large hand around the side of your face to hold you close. His other hand reached for the shower controls, making the water gradually warmer before wrapping his arm back around you.

Slowly you warmed up, your body relaxing as the shivers died down, but Hvitserk didn’t move until you did. Stepping out of the shower, you wrung your hair out before beginning to remove your wet clothes and you knew that he was watching you. Leaving your underwear on, you stepped into your bedroom, listening to the sound of Hvitserk ridding himself of his own clothes and the noise of the water as he doused himself. You quickly changed into fresh underwear and slipped a baggy top on before he exited your en-suite. He ran a hand through his wet hair, one of your towels wrapped around his waist and you tried not to eye the tattoo that seemed to come alive when he moved.

“I’m going to get Nick.”

“No. No, you’re not.” His instant dismissal had anger boiling in your gut, bubbling over when he had the nerve to smirk at you.

“I am.” Grabbing a pair of leggings, you reached the door before he realised you were serious. He charged after you, wrapping his arms around your waist.

As he threw you back into the bedroom, you couldn’t help but feel caged all over again. Except this time, Hvitserk was there instead of the bars. His solid body kept you from passing. He restrained you, keeping you pinned as he crowded you against the door. Even through your rageful snarling and snapping you knew it was better to wait for the others, to attack as a pack and with force, but now you knew where Nick was and you needed to go.

Eventually you calmed, breathing heavily against him, your head resting on his shoulder. But his grip didn’t lessen, he knew you too well. Closing your eyes, you tried to reason with yourself, but you were beginning to suffocate.

His scent was intoxicating.

Subtly you moved your nose closer to his neck, breathing in deeply the aroma of the wind in the trees, freshly mown grass and the cleanliness of newly disturbed earth. It was exactly as you remembered, waking up with your heightened senses for the first time and seeing him lying there on the floor beside your cage, his eyes bright with worry, his heart beating as though it was in your own ears. His scent had always stuck with you.

He shifted, bringing his face to bury in your hair as he held you closer. Each breath he took was laboured. A soft rumble on the end sent shivers through your body and a whine whispered from your throat.

“Hvitserk…?”

“Hmmm?” Running your nose against the warmth of his taught neck had you pulling your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Y-you can let me go now,” you breathed, expecting him to release you, but he didn’t. His embrace relaxed, hands travelling up your arms only for one to tangle in the hair at the nape of your neck, fisting firmly in the strands. His other hand ghosted along your cheek, a gesture he used to do all the time and one, if you were honest, you’d missed. Your own hands clutched the fabric of the towel on his hips, tugging at the material. You hoped the motion would keep your hands busy, no longer focused on diving into his wet hair. If you concentrated hard enough you hoped holding the fabric would keep you from running your hands up his bare chest, or feeling the rippling muscle of his back.

Your composure was slipping. The more the pair of you stayed entwined the harder it became to ignore the way your pheromones weaved together. Hvitserk’s breathing was ragged, his mouth open as he fought with himself not to give in. Your nose trailed along his jawline but he didn’t move. The man was a statue as he let you scent him, daring to hope that the moment he’d been waiting for was finally happening. The moment you realised he was your mate, that he was all you ever needed or wanted in this world. That you belonged with him and no one else.

Rising on tiptoe, you brushed his lips with your own, letting the air pass between you as you both began to drown in each other. Your mind couldn’t concentrate, it couldn’t piece together what had happened downstairs and the information you now had was dulled into insignificance.

“Elskede…” The need and desire that covered that single word had you falling. The door rocked violently in the frame as he eradicated the last gap between you. His entire body was pressed into yours, his lips devastating as he finally claimed you. Relief flooded through you at the sudden contact, the realisation that you didn’t need to hold back with him brought a thrill you hadn’t felt in such a long time.

His lips left a trail of fire down your neck, his hand still fisting in your hair as he pulled it back, putting you in a state of vulnerability and baring your throat to him. But you were putty in his hands, melting into his body, needing to feel him all over your bare skin as you craved more and more of him.

Your hands swept up his back, fingertips dancing over his skin and feeling the way he arched at your touch. His hands left you to rip the flimsy top from your body and you lifted your arms to help him. Your fingers dug into his scalp and he wrapped a strong arm around your waist, hauling you flush against him as your lips met in a clash of teeth and rushed breaths.

The side of yourself you’d kept locked away, the one you’d pushed down and denied ever existed, burst open. Everything you’d ever felt for Hvitserk rushed through your veins like a wildfire, burning until nothing else remained except an animalistic, greedy, hunger that only he could satisfy.

He spun you round, your hands colliding harshly with the door as he pushed your face into the wood. He pressed into you, his arousal evident as he ground his groin against your barely covered ass. Fingers were still tangled in your damp hair, his hand clutching at the back of your throat. His mouth left rough kisses along the line of your shoulders and you whined. Your hand reached round to grab his thigh, dragging him as close as possible, your fingertips digging into the fluffy texture of the towel.

His breath was steaming as it drifted over the line of cooling kisses he’d stamped on you. Your fingers worked the towel and you felt it dislodge from his hips, falling open and slumping to the floor. Now all that was left between your dripping cunt and him was your flimsy underwear.

His hips rocked into you, pressing the head of his cock into the epicentre between your legs, a cry of pure need and want forced its way from your throat and he snarled in your ear.

The next thing you knew your underwear was ripped from your body and his fingers were plunging deep into your cunt. Your arm rose to try and find something to hold onto as the door slammed in the frame.

“Shit…” you panted wildly. “Hvit…!” You could barely string a sentence together as your walls fluttered around his fingers. Your eyes closed, bottom lip dragged into your mouth as you moaned from deep within your chest. His fingers pumped in and out, the lewd sound of your wetness filling the room. The scent and both your arousals ignited something inside you, something primal and dark. Logical thought didn’t exist; all that mattered was finding your blissful release on his hand.

You were almost there, whines gasping from your throat as you clamped down on him, your hips canting to just the right angle when he withdrew completely. His body pressed you forcefully against the door, neither of you caring if anyone could hear you.

“I’m going to lose control,” he rumbled in your ear. His face leaning into you, lips nibbling at your earlobe and his teeth nipped you slightly. “I’m losing control.” You rose onto your toes, feeling the wide head of his cock notch at your soaked entrance and the pair of you froze. You could hear the unevenness of his breath, the sudden quiver of his body as he tried not to push any further inside you.

But he was right there and the ache in your lower belly was too intense to ignore. The air singed your lungs, a burn you wanted all over your body. Pushing back you made the decision for you both and a ragged groan left him as the head of his cock slipped between your dripping folds.

The tension between you snapped, his hips rocked up into you making you gasp loudly. His teeth found purchase on the slope of your shoulder, an arm circling your waist to hold you steady. Your face contorted in pleasure, jaw going slack and your eyes rolled as he pulled out only to rut forcefully back into you. The ache became almost unbearable as his thick cock stretched you wide open, your walls trembling from the fullness. It was almost abusive but nothing you couldn’t handle.

Once again you were on the precipice of something catastrophic when he pulled completely out of you. Growling in frustration you punched the door ignoring the way the wood splintered under your hand when he yanked you towards the bed. You allowed yourself to fall face first onto the covers feeling his hands manipulate your hips into the perfect position.

He didn’t waste anymore time, covering your body and plunging himself back into your waiting cunt. An obscene noise left you as he filled you in one stroke only to set a relentless pace that you were sure was going to send you into the stratosphere.

One hand was on your hip, the other snaked up your spine to wind in your hair, tugging your head off the covers. There was nothing you could do, you were completely at Hvitserk’s mercy but you didn’t want it any other way. Your body cried out for some relief, legs shaking against the bed and you squeezed your eyes shut bracing yourself for what was to come.

But he pulled himself free of you again.

“I swear to the gods, Hvitserk…” you half screamed in frustration. He flipped you on to your back. Tossing the drift of hair out of his sweaty face as he grabbed your leg.

“What you gonna swear, skat?” he breathed, his hazel eyes roaming over your heaving body only to settle on how open you were for him. You glared at him, wanting to hate the cocky grin that started in his eyes and manifested around his kiss torn lips.

Your back arched when he ran his wet cock down the slit of your cunt, dipping it back inside and making you flutter around him again. Hvitserk wrapped a hand around your calf, holding your leg against his chest as he worked his hips. You met him stroke for stroke, your mind shattering at the new position and the explosion of pleasure that began to build to new heights. He leaned forward slightly making your breath snatch in your chest. His other hand drifted up your abdomen, fingers squeezing as they went, plucking your nipples briefly before sliding up the side of your neck. You watched him lick the corner of his lips just as his fingers found their way into the velvety cavern of your mouth. Your lips closed around the digits and he let out a tense breath he’d been holding. His whole body was rocking into you, jolting you up the bed but his eyes were focussed on your mouth ravishing his fingers.

“I’ve missed you,” he whispered. “You’re mine.”

You watched the orange of his wolf flare in his eyes as he claimed you, his cock throbbing inside you at the spoken possession. “You’re all mine,” he said more to himself than you as your head rolled on the covers. Fingers desperately clutching at the material that rucked up around you as he continued his punishing pace.

“Tell me what you want, min lille tæve.” His fingers left your mouth and you gulped down some air that was filled with the scent of him. It was addictive, the way he filled every part of your body and possessed even the darkest corners of yourself.

“You, I want you—to make me cum.” He dropped your leg at the urgency of your words; leading with his lips he lustfully collided with you. It was fierce, the searing quality of his passion nearly made you tip over the edge right there. His tongue dipped into your mouth, his cock nudging that sensitive area at the front of your walls that had you moaning into his mouth.

He rutted relentlessly into you, his hand reaching up to grab your chin so he could make you look at him. You could feel the edges of your orgasm as he stroked it into existence. His pace became sloppy, his thrusts faltering and he rested his forehead against yours, panting all over your face as you breathed in each other’s debauched moans.

Your legs curled over his hips, pulling him deeper into you as your body finally came undone beneath him. Biting into his shoulder you hoped it muffled your carnal cries but he was louder than you, a firm curse spilling from his mouth as his cock throbbed against your trembling walls. He flexed against the sensation of your nails dragging down his back, one last firm push into your clenching cunt and he unravelled. It felt like you were floating in a pool of heat as pleasure flooded your body, contouring your toes and splintering your vision.

He continued to press gently into you, still dripping inside you until your jaw finally released the grip on his shoulder. Your muscles relaxed, a rich satiated feeling bogged you down and you smiled, accepting the clumsy kiss he planted on your mouth. He gathered you up, holding your body close in an embrace that was so intimate it made your heart hurt. His own was loud, thundering between you both as he tried to catch his breath.

Now, you didn’t know what to do. Your mind was free of the lustful haze and realisation crept up your spine like icy fingers. Tapping his shoulder you shifted, uncaging yourself with a mumbled excuse you had to go to the bathroom. He said your name but you didn’t stop, firmly shutting the door behind you only to lean against it with a sigh.

You could hear him getting off the bed. His footsteps approached the door but he didn’t knock. You imagined him on the other side, matching your posture as he clenched his fist and imitated knocking. The guilt was curling round in your gut, squeezing your thighs together you winced at the tenderness you felt.

“We should talk about this,” Hvitserk spoke through the door and you cursed your heightened senses. “I can go…”

“No.” The word sprung free before you could think about a proper. Grabbing the robe off the back of the door, quickly wrapping it round you so you could crack open the door.

“Are you sure? Because I can.” He’d thankfully wrapped the towel back around him in an effort to cover himself up. His gaze darted to meet yours briefly before he was tracing the line of the doorframe. Running a hand through his tousled locks you could see he didn’t really know what to do with himself which made the guilt claw at your gut even harder.

“We should sleep,” you told him softly, opening the door wider and slipping back into the bedroom.

“Both of us? Here?” You didn’t miss the gentle upflick in his tone as it rang with hopefulness.

“Are you getting in or what?” Diving under the covers still in your robe it all felt slightly awkward. He stiffly got in next to you, sitting up against the headboard like he hadn’t just had you all over this bed with no hesitation.

“Lay down, you're making me nervous.”

He shunted down, making himself comfortable throwing an arm behind his head and staring up at the ceiling. You did the same, clutching the fabric of your robe and nibbling at your bottom lip as you battled with yourself for a moment. When you finally made the decision you slid across the bed, rolling to curl into his side and resting your face on his chest. At first he didn’t move but then his arm tentatively reached around you, fingers tapping your shoulder lightly until they settled comfortably. Forcing your eyes closed you eventually drifted into long awaited sleep.

It was dark and cold. Not a sensation you were all too familiar with but the breeze that swept through the open window had the hair on your body stand on end. Getting up you went to close it but you saw a hooded shadow on the lawn. It looked like a person just standing there, but no scent was carried on the breeze.

“Hvitserk…?” Glancing over your shoulder you looked at him sprawled on his front, an arm and a leg hanging over the edge but his heart rate was slow. Almost too slow. The window moved, forcing your arm to bend as it slammed the window shut and you gasped in shock, noticing the figure on the lawn was gone. “Hvitserk!” His skin felt cooler than normal and he wouldn’t wake, even when you shoved him onto his back he didn’t respond. Shoving some clothes on you ran down the steps to check on Floki, finding him in the same state as Hvitserk. Cool to the touch and unresponsive.

You told yourself not to panic as you made your way silently through the house. It had the eerie feel of a nightmare. Nothing was out of place, there was no one else here and yet all your senses were telling you this was wrong.

Creeping through to the kitchen it felt like your skin left your body when the back door creaked open. At first you imagined Ragnar or Halfdan were coming in but all you could smell was outside. Your wolf was on alert, the desire to shift had your fingers flexing but you thought it was better to face this as human. Stepping outside you clocked the hooded shadow by the tree line, still no scent on the breeze that blew into your face and you looked around for others as you walked down from the patio.

“Hello?” You didn’t expect a reply.

Hunulv…

Your hackles rose at the light voice as it whispered through the trees. Suddenly the darkness seemed more foreboding than ever before and you almost laughed hysterically. You were the beast out in the wild, what did you have to be frightened of? You were a figment of people's nightmares, a creature of shadows and grimm fairy tales. You were dangerous, strong, fast, all the things that humans were not.

The silhouette stood stock still as you approached, the wind whipping around you tearing at your clothes as the leaves rustled loudly.

“Who are you?” The wind snatched your voice and you almost choked from the momentary lack of air but still the figure did nothing. It was just a dark void in your senses, your eyes could only see black with no detail, your nose was blind and you finally started to accept this wasn’t normal.

Hunulv…

You stopped at least ten paces away, squinting as you tried to get a read on the figure and noticing for the first time it wasn’t affected by the wind as it raced past you once more almost making you stumble. Holding your arms up you tried to shield your eyes but it was nearly strong enough to push you over.

Looking up when the wind died down for a moment you saw the figure was now right before you. Something told you to run, to run and never look back but it felt like your feet were rooted to the spot. Looking down you could see the grass growing over your bare feet, the blades sharp and torturous as they covered your skin and a high pitched scream sounded in your ears. Slowly the figure reached for you, a black hand detaching only to cover your eyes and you knew no more.

[axelsagewrites]

Where Am I?*Part Four

Pairing: modern!f!reader x (to be determined...) Ubbe, Ivar, Sigurd, Hviserks, Bjorn

Word count: 2146

Warnings: drinking, Sigurd making a cripple joke, drunk reader

Series Summary: After falling head first the reader wakes up face to face with a group of strangely dressed men who look eerily like the vikings she studies

Part one Part two Part three

Masterlist Here

Something your arrival seemed to have distracted from was the success of the latest raid. “You’ll love it,” Hvitserk told you over breakfast. He, you had soon noticed, was the only morning person of the bunch. Ivar looked even more homicidal while Sigurd was still too asleep to piss him off. Meanwhile Ubbe was still in bed, threatening to cut off whoever’s hand tried to wake him, “We pull out all the stops. Wines, mead, ale, -“

“Is anything not alcohol related?” you joked just as Bjorn walked in. You’d honestly expected him to have breakfast with his father, but Bjorn said nothing as he took a seat beside you. You knew he was tall but him sitting shoulder to shoulder with you made you realise just how not only tall, but wide he was. The man was built like a bear.

“Hello?” Hvitserk said, waving his hand in front of your eyes, “I swear none of you appreciate the morning,” he tutted.

“Die,” Ivar grunted, earning an agreement from Sigurd. You chuckled a little at seeing them finally on the same side.

Still, you shot Hvitserk an apologetic smile. “Sorry Hvitserk I just spaced out,”

“Spaced out?” He asked, even Bjorn looking down in confusion.

“Like got distracted?”

Hvitserk nodded in understanding, but Bjorn wasn’t satisfied, his head tilting even further in confusion. “Why do you say ‘like’ all the time? You always say like at the start of everything its strange,”

“I guess it’s like,” you said, pausing to chuckle at the accident though he didn’t laugh, “I don’t know it’s just how we talk where I’m from. Like how in every conversation someone threatens someone’s life here,” you said, finally earning a crack of a smile from him, “Where I’m from that would be the weird thing,”

“It’s not as if we mean it,” Hvitserk said.

“It’s brotherly love,” You turned to look at Ivar and Sigurd who both just kind of shrugs.

“It’s something all right,” Sigurd muttered. Ivar’s glare said enough on his behalf.

You ignored them both and turned back to Hvitserk with a laugh. After all they were brothers after all. It was all just talk. Surely. “So, if I go wake Ubbe up right now he won’t actually cut off my hand?” This time they all shared a concerned look. Okay maybe not.

“Take back up with you,” Ivar said. “Just encase,”

You sighed and rolled your eyes at the dramatics of all of them “Seriously? Right come on then,” you said, nodding your head at Ivar as you stood.

For a moment you actually saw a slight look of fear wash over his face, “But I’m still eating,” he tried to weasel his way out of it making Sigurd laugh. That was until you turned to him, hands on hip and his eyes suddenly dipped to the floor and the laughing stopped.

You threw your hands up, “He cannot be that bad!” you protested as you headed to Ubbe’s room.

As you headed for the door you heard someone’s chair scrape against the floor following you. You knocked on the door before quickly pushing it open, “Rise and shine sunshine- “

A loud groan came from the lump under the furs that was presumably the grumpy Ubbe everyone had warned you about. He quickly went to sit up and you jumped back when you saw the axe in his hand. Right back into what you soon realised was Bjorn’s chest.

Realization dawned over Ubbe’s face when he saw you, “Oh,” he said, dropping the axe onto the furs, “Sorry I didn’t realise it was you,” he mumbled, collapsing back into bed.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” you mumbled, stepping away from Bjorn and hoping he didn’t see the blush covering your cheeks from the previous closeness. Then they went even redder when Ubbe sat up in bed and you realised he had nothing on. “I’m just gonna,” you span around, trying to leave, before almost smacking right back into Bjorn’s chest. You almost gulped before looking up at him, “Sorry,” you mumbled, rushing out past him, not noticing the smirk on Bjorn’s face or the way Ubbe laughed at your antics.

-

Ivar had finished eating by the time you’d returned, and you very quickly insisted on him showing you the market like he’d promised last night. He almost jumped at the chance and debated flinging his knife into Sigurd’s chest when he insisted on joining you both. However, you weren’t out for long before Aslaug sent a thrall to fetch you.

Aslaug had arranged for you to receive another dress for tonight’s festivities since “our guests represent our honour,” and you weren’t going to turn down the clean clothes.

The boys had gone out to do some training leaving you to get ready. You debated doing some makeup, you did have a couple items in your bag after all. “What is that?” Aslaug asked as she and a woman you recognised as Helga walked into the room. You’d been sat at a table in the middle of the house to utilise the little light inside and hadn’t heard them walk in, “Its eyeliner,” you said, showing them the black on your eyes, “Like how you use charcoal on yours,”

“Can I watch?” Helga asked, excitement written on her face as she sat across from you, “What’s this?” she asked, picking up the liquid blush, “It’s so bright!”

“It’s blush,” you laughed, “It’s for your cheeks,”

Aslaug sat next to her, eyeing over the cosmetics, “Like berries?”

“Kind of?” you said, gently taking it out of Helga’s hand so you could put it on to show them,

“See?” you asked patting it in, “Same sort of thing but this lasts a bit longer,”

“Can we try some?” Helga asked and even Aslaug looked interested at the idea. For the next while you helped them apply some moisturiser and blush to ease them into it. you were honestly scared to show them your eyeshadow pallet considering how Helga reacted to a pink blush.

then it was your turn. Apparently, the hair problem was long overdue. Helga was gentle when she brushed but you winced as Aslaug took over the intricate braids. “Do all girls fuss where you’re from?”

By the time she was done however you had to admit it looked beautiful. “You almost look like one of us,” there was almost fondness in Aslaug smile.

Helga looked up with a large grin, “You’ll get used to the pain. You looked wonderful though,”

-

Walking into the bustling hall by Aslaug’s side was both comforting and terrifying. On one hand it meant no one would question you but on the other, everyone was staring. When the boys finally returned Hvitserk was the first to greet you and you happily accepted the ale he offered.

You were sat at a table with the five of them, Hvitserk and Ivar on either side of you, and Bjorn, Ubbe, and Sigurd across from you. However, something the group were quickly realising was their tolerance to ale was far higher than yours. “Do you not drink where you’re from?” Ubbe teased as your cheeks flushed from the alcohol.

“We do! I swear I’m not a lightweight. This stuffs just strong!” you laughed.

Apparently, the laugh was infectious as soon they were all giggly. All but Bjorn but for once there was a permanent smile on his face, “What’s a lightweight?” Bjorn asked.

“Someone who can’t hold their alcohol,” you told him, very matter of factly making them all laugh at your drunken confidence, “You lot wouldn’t last one second on a night out at my campus. I’m talking tequila shots, body shots, Jello shots,” you began to drunkenly list off as the boys tilted their heads in amused confusion.

“What’s a shot?” Hvitserk asked making you face palm.

“Oh, I have so much to teach you,”

-

Unfortunately, while the boys were great company and had adjusted well to you being in their groups your presence seemed to disrupt everyone else. It was Hvitserk who first noticed everyone staring at you, but you were too tipsy too care. However, as Ivar and Ubbe drank more both began to glare at the men whose eyes stayed too long.

Despite all the boys warning you about Ivar’s temper they all seemed to ignore Ubbe’s even when he insisted on you all leaving because a drunken Viking tried to hit on you. You however were happy enough to follow them all the edge of the lake and sit on the cold sand with a flask of ale being passed around.

As you were all walking down to the lake Hvitserk, and Sigurd were in a heated debate over which slave girl was hotter while Ubbe carried a giggling Ivar on his back. somehow, you’d ended up at the back of the pack, stumbling down the hill beside Bjorn.

“Woah,” he gasped, grabbing your waist before you could stumble and fall over a tree branch. “Steady,”

“Careful Bjorn,” you grinned up at him, holding onto the arm he offered you so you wouldn’t risk falling again, “Someone might think we’re friends,” you teased.

A smirk quickly showed on his face, a teasing light in his eyes, “Oh? Are we not friends already? I am wounded,”

“Friends don’t try kill their friends,” you pouted but you weren’t able to keep the charade up for long before grinning again like a Cheshire cat.

Bjorn just rolled his eyes with a smile however, “We weren’t friends then. We are now,”

“So, you won’t try kill me again?”

Another eye roll, “I won’t try kill you, no,” he said, shaking his head as he helped you to where the rest of the group had begun to sit.

“Pinky promise?” you asked, pulling out of his grip and extending his arm.

His eyes narrowed, head tilting, “What’s a pinkie promise?”

“Its where,” you said, stepping closer to grab his hand, “You lock pinkies,” you said wrapping yours around his, not noticing the smile on his face, “And promise something. And if you break it, I get to break your pinkie,”

“So, an oath?”

“An oath with a threat,”

“Of breaking a finger?”

“Pinkie specifically but yes,” you grinned, “So do you promise?”

“I promise,”

“Good,” you grinned, pulling your pinkie away from his grip before turning to join the group. You plopped down on the ground next to Ivar who was staring off into the sea, “Hi,” you grinned.

Ivar turned to you, laughing when he saw the wide grin on your cheeks, “Hello,” you could hear a slight drunken slur in his words. “Want some?” he asked, passing you, his ale.

You gladly accepted it, taking a drink of the alcohol you first hated but soon grew to love, “Thanks. You’re always so sweet to me,” you smiled before taking a drink, missing the way Ivar’s cheeks went red at your sweet words. Sigurd however didn’t want you to miss it.

“Aww look at the cripple,” he teased making Ivar scowl, “He’s blushing like a baby,”

You passed Ivar his drink back, noticing how tense his jaw was and quickly checking to see how close he was to his axe. After all you didn’t need to be here when the fall out happened, “Why do you care so much Sigurd?” you asked, rolling your eyes.

Everyone’s eyes seemingly went wide, shocked that your bubbly attitude had so quickly dropped. “you don’t get it,” he tried to brush off, “you’re not from here,”

“Then explain it to me,” you said, sitting up straight, “Explain what’s so funny about Ivar’s legs. Ill wait,”

“Well its just,” he tried to stutter earning a snigger from Hvitserk, “I don’t know it just is. Why do you care?”

You were honestly a bit hurt by that, “because he’s, my friend?” you said it like a question because the answer seemed so obvious.

“Okay well I’m sorry,” Sigurd shrugged, his eyes focused on the ground.

Luckily the night quickly moved on from the brief ugly confrontation however Ivar couldn’t get the reaction out of his mind. He was so used to fighting his own battles that he never even expected someone else to back him up, let alone speak up before him. Despite his bruised ego Sigurd thankfully stayed civil for the rest of the night.

A few hours passed before you all decided to walk home. You were in a world of your own at this point, your eyes fixed on how bright the night sky was with stars with no city skyline or factory gases to ruin your view. You didn’t even notice the stares from the boys or hear Hvitserk and Ubbe talk about how you stood up to Sigurd. For the first time this week you didn’t have a care in the world.

Part five

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[a-bang-for-your-bucky]

Kóngurinn Minn

Well! I have ventured away from the OICU for a minute and jumped head first into Vikings territory. I am almost done with the series and with the lovely encouragement of my twisted sister @mylifeisactuallyamess I wrote this one shot to process my emotions. SPOILERS AHEAD Turn back now if you have not seen Season 6 Episode 6, 7, and 8. SPOILERS AHEAD.

Pairing: Björn Ironside x F!reader

Summary: Björn returns home to Kattegat after losing the election for King of all Norway, to find that his mother, Lagertha has been murdered. As Queen and his wife, you do your best to console him through this trying time.

Warnings: SMUT, P in V sex, unprotected sex (its the Viking era), explicit language, murder, major character death, alcohol mention,

Six long months you had been waiting for your husband to return. He was a good man with a kind heart, wanting to do right by his small kingdom of Kattegat. He had set off to help King Harald Finehair regain Vestfold from King Olaf.

You waited day in and day out at the docks of Kattegat, hoping, praying to the gods for his safe return. Unfortunately you weren't able to do that on this day. Today you had the unbearable duty of giving Lagertha, the famous shield-maiden and Björn’s mother, a funeral fit for a goddess. With the help of Torvi and Ubbe, she was ready to enter Valhalla. You each said your goodbyes to a woman that had helped shape you into the queen that you were.

Waiting on the shore of the frozen fjord, you watched as archers set loose flaming arrows to release the burning ship into the icy waters. Murmurs broke through the respectful silence and you turned when you heard someone say “King Björn”.

Rushing to his side, you were met with sad eyes. “I know, ástin mín. I already know.” Björn staggered, exhausted from his battle and long travels, toward his mother’s burning body. You waited, letting him say his final goodbyes to her. When the time felt right, you went to him, kneeling in the snow. “I can avenge her murder. I can punish her murderer. Who was it?” He turned to you, tears and rage masking the blue of his irises.

You felt your own despair fill your chest, making it hard to breathe. “Björn,” You glanced at Ubbe, who nodded for you to continue, like he knew what was asked. You sniffled, a tear streaming down your face. “It was Hvitserk. Björn, It was Hvitserk.”

In all the years you had known Björn, you had never been afraid of him. You have seen him Slaughter countless Christian soldiers without batting an eye. You had assisted him and his brothers getting revenge on King Ælla, watching with love in your eyes as Björn executed a perfect Blood Eagle. No, you have never been scared of him, but the look on his face terrified you.

Björn sat on his throne in the Great Hall. His hands were gripping at the arms as he prepared himself to face his brother for the first time. Townspeople pushed through the small crowd gathered in front of him. The sound of rattling chains made your teeth clench.

Björn straightened up in his seat as Hvitserk was thrown forward to him, stumbling to get his footing. His lip curled as he snarled, "I wonder if you even know brother, why you have been brought here?" The chained man mumbled a response that none could hear. "Louder. I can't hear you."

Hvitserk stood there, not daring to lift his head. “I know why. I killed Lagertha.” He admitted softly. Björn leaned forward, placing his elbow on his knee, cupping his ear with his hand. Hvitserk lifted his head, looking up at his big brother. “I killed your mother, Björn.” The confession made Björn get out of his seat and stalk toward him. Roughly, Björn gripped Hvitserk’s face in his hand.

“Why?” Björn growled in his face. Hvitserk looked at him with blood shot eyes.

“I thought she was Ivar. I thought that she—” Hvitserk faltered before Björn slapped him across the face. “I thought that Ivar was coming to kill me.” Another, harder, slap. You already felt the needy heat blossoming in your stomach, but watching Björn, seeing this new side of him, brought it on tenfold.

The townspeople whispered, as Björn roared, “I don’t care what you thought! Being drunk is no excuse for anything!” His booming voice caused you to flinch. He turned away from his accused brother. “You murdered my mother. You murdered the most famous shield-maiden in the world!” Björn continued to show his rage toward Hvitserk. “You were not fit to kiss her feet.” He stopped to grab his face again, “And you are not fit to be called a son of Ragnar.” Slap. Slap.

Your heart broke; For your husband, for the loss of his mother, and now for the loss of his brother. Björn grabbed Hvitserk by the roots of his hair. “And when you killed my mother,” his voice was low and raspy, “You killed a part of me, too.” They were nose to nose, “And you have to understand, I can never forgive you.” Björn whispered in his ear. Hvitserk didn’t plead for his life. He agreed with everything his brother said. You watched on as your husband condemned his brother.

Björn returned to his seat next to you. You hoped he missed how your thighs squeezed together as he drew closer. It did not go unnoticed. "I will decide his fate tomorrow. Get this murderer out of my sight." He dismissed Hvitserk. The same men who dragged him in, drug him back out. "Be sure to throw cold water on him periodically, so he doesn't have time to sleep."

You let your gaze travel from his tattooed eye, to his heaving chest, all the way down to his cock, which was straining against the fabric of his breeches. Your breath hitched. The sight of it, even in confines, always took your breath away.

For a moment, you wondered if your impure thoughts were inappropriate given the current events. All doubts were wiped from your mind when Björn addressed the folks that were still littering the Great Hall. "I am going to fuck my wife on my throne, so I suggest you all leave. Unless you want to watch, I don't think the queen would mind." Björn cast a look at Ubbe, whose eyes widened before leaving the Hall.

The thought only furthered your arousal. "Come," Björn ordered, patting his lap. You complied, bunching up your skirts to straddle him. Björn looked at you, all signs of anger gone. He had sad eyes again, that pleaded with you. "Help me forget. Just for a little while." Tears were threatening to spill down his face as he begged, "please."

With deft fingers, you untied the strings of his pants as he ripped off his tunic. He lifted his ass, allowing you to wiggle them down enough to free his aching cock. You knew you were ready. You were always ready for him. He ran the head through your soaking folds before lining up with your entrance.

The burn as you sank down on him was pleasurable with just the right amount of pain. Björn groaned, already losing himself in the feeling of your cunt. His large hands gripped your ass, helping you lower you until he was fully seated inside. You hissed at the stretch.

He kept a hold on your hips, leaning forward to lay his forehead on yours. In that moment, the two of you were one. At that moment, Björn felt whole. "Are you ready?" He asked breathlessly. You nodded, lifting your lips to his. You kissed him passionately as you slowly started to roll your hips.

You made love slowly, your hands keeping purchase on his tattooed chest. Björn's eyes were screwed shut, his grip on you never loosening. He whispered in your ear in between guttural moans.

"You feel amazing."

"Please, don't leave me."

"I love you, takre."

He sped up your movements, not giving you a choice. "Björn, please." You mewled, begging for release, begging for his release. "Let go for me, my King."

The noises the two of you made were raw, animalistic as you chased your highs. Björn slammed you down onto him, shattering the wall holding back your orgasms. Groans of your name and I love you poured from his lips.

You moved your right hand down to your belly keeping your left over his heart. "May the gods bless us with our first child." You prayed before connecting your lips with his once more. "I love you, Kóngurinn Minn."

[jadelynlace]

Full-Term⎮Ink Drinker Blurb⎮Modern Vikings AU [Ivar x F!Reader]

Read more Ink Drinker here.

Author's Note: I teased about it, and you guys begged for it (pun intended). Now, I have never been pregnant, and for any of my followers who have, I apologize if this is no where near close to the actual experience of pregnancy. But I did try my best.

Content Warnings: Pregnancy sex (full term), mentions of birth and Ink Ivar (who is really in need of a warning all on his own).

Word Count: Just shy of 2000 words.

You were ready for it to be over. The past 38 weeks had been full of surprises, watching your body change, watching Ivar fall in love with you all over again. How he could not get enough of the way you are growing a human inside of you. From the photos, to painting your bump, to finding out that you’re about to bore the first Lothbrok girl in over five generations. Ivar was through the moon. But you, oh, you were ready for it to be over.

The thought of birth is exhilarating, it is terrifying. You’ve seen it in the field; in its glory, in its horror. You hadn’t yet made up your mind as to whether you wanted the intimate home birth, or the hospital birth. You stacked up the complications you could have, often leaving you awake at night, or slithering into your dreams. Too many times you’ve envisioned waking up in your own pool of blood or worse: leaving Ivar alone as a single parent to a newborn.

Walking hardly helps, walking at an angle hardly helps. You roll on the exercise ball, as Ivar sneaks glances at how you move your hips, wishing it was him below you. Helga has offered you tea, blends that she claims helped her deliver both Phoenix and Apollo rather quickly. Hvitserk makes a game at trying to jump out from around the corners at the station, hoping it’ll scare you into labor. But he’s only ever been met with the sight of your middle finger. 

Desk duty at the station is tedious enough, but you could easily do without the input of the men you work with. It was hard to believe some of them were medics, even harder to believe that they were fathers themselves. 

“We could have sex,” Ivar says to you suddenly. Eyes glued to his sketchbook as you adjust, and readjust, how you’re sitting on the couch.

“What?” You say, not quite sure you heard him correctly. His subtly could rival that of a sledgehammer.

“To induce labor. I read that sometimes the best way to get the baby out, is to do the same thing that got it in there,” 

The last 38 weeks had taken their toll on Ivar too. You can see the difference in his face, mentally preparing himself for the journey that is coming. The faintest hint of dark circles from staying up with you; in your pain, your sickness, your cravings. Walking on eggshells at times because of the swing in your emotions, and how you would just sometimes cry. Over him, for just existing, and how much you love him. Or, how he once closed the oven door too hard and you feared the oven must hurt. 

Ivar was more ready for this than he had ever been ready for anything in his entire life. And the final stretch of days felt like years, but Gods, watching you grow a human is the best experience of his life.

“You really want to have sex with your pregnant wife, to induce labor?” You ask.

“Baby, I really want to have sex with my pregnant wife even if it doesn’t induce labor,” Ivar answers as if it’s so completely obvious.

“Your pull out game is what go me into this mess,” You tease.

“As if you didn’t beg for me to come inside—”

“Ivar,” You cut him off. “Everything hurts right now. And I have to pee again. But I can still manage to stand up and smack you,” And Ivar just offers you his tell tale smile, a grin that stretches from ear to ear, and you calm down. 

*

You take each step one at a time, planting two feet parallel before continuing, and you swear the Braxton Hicks contractions are purposely worse on the stairs. Ivar whines from the bed, wondering where you are and you feel tears in your eyes because you simply can’t walk up the stairs any quicker. Finally though, you’re in the door way and Ivar is in his boxers, constructing the best pillow mound you’ve seen to date. 

“I figured this might help,” He tells you, arm out stretched to you. As you get closer, he’s there to fix your hair, standing in front of him as he braids it to keep it out of your face, but to ensure you’re not going to wake up from a headache. There’s a kiss to your shoulder next, as he says “There,” ever so softly.

“Can you help me take off my dress,” You say to him.

“Too hot?” But you don’t answer. Ivar’s hands move slowly, rolling the hem of your nightgown towards your waist and slipping it up over your arms, all while paying careful attention to your braid. Once it’s discarded, you stay where you are, and Ivar’s hands splay across your bump like hot coals, before they gingerly lift it, relieving the pressure. You only moan.

“Just a few more days, baby,” Ivar tells you softly. Slowly his hands move again, covering your chest, the pressure in them as they grow fuller, and fuller. 

“Can I take you up on your offer?” You peep.

“I offer you lots of things, every day,” Ivar hums.

“You know exactly which one I am inquiring about, Ivar,” You deadpan. Ivar’s lips land softly on your shoulder again, humming in agreement as his hands continue to roam. Across your bump, to your chest, your lower back and you’re beginning to melt before him.

You move, and Ivar just watches you, setting his glasses on the night stand while you lie down. He’s behind you in an instant but you haven’t found comfort yet.

“No, not like this, it hurts,” You hiss and Ivar stops.

“Hold on,” He says, helping you move, “Try this,” And he moves the pillows again, letting you rest over them.

“Oh, that’s better,” You sigh, melting into the fabric. “So much better,” You hum, nuzzling your face.

“Just relax,” Ivar hums, kissing between your shoulder blades.

“You really want to have sex with your pregnant wife to induce labor?” You mumble again while you feel Ivar’s hands on the small of your back. “Oh, that feels so nice,” You then sigh when he applies pressure where you ache. “Are you even going to be able to get it up?”

Ivar leans over you then, length pressing against you and you giggle.

“Did you even doubt that?” He whispers in your ear, leaving a kiss to your temple.

“No, not really,” You reply, his hands tracing you. “I haven’t shaved since I could see my feet,” You mumble. “Are you sure you really—”

“Do I need to gag you? Is that how this is going to be?” Ivar asks, shifting his weight behind you as his boxers are tossed somewhere behind him. “Can you try to relax for like, twenty minutes?”

“You’re going to last twenty minutes?” You quip, simply because you cannot help yourself. Ivar’s hands are at your cheeks just as the comment leaves your mouth, but instead of the quick smack you anticipate, he grabs handfuls, fondling the skin.

“We both know who’s not going to last,” Ivar hums, tracing your slit. “But when you want me to stop, you tell me, alright?”

“I know Ivar, I know,” You hum.

Ivar’s warmth covers your back, body over yours and you can’t help but shiver in anticipation for his cock to spread your walls. He rests his head against yours for a brief moment, palms tracing your stomach and you can picture the smile on his face. He leaves you for a moment to nudge your legs to spread, and out of pure instinct they fall open.

Grabbing himself, Ivar taps the head of his cock against you, just to tease you before he pushes his length into you slowly, inch by inch as your wall spread with a delicious pleasure. Feeling every vein and trace of skin before he bottoms out, and rests against you.

“Oh my god,” You moan, thighs already trembling as his hands waste no time to cover yours as they bunch the sheets. “Oh, fuck,” You gasp.

“I know,” Ivar hums back. “Better?”

“You have no idea, Ivar,” You moan into the pillow. “Gods, you have no idea,”

Ivar stays still, letting you feel the weight over you, the pleasure between the two of you, his cock throbbing inside of you. He only moans from where he is, his lips pressed against the curve of your neck before he finally rocks his hips. Careful to let the weight fall to his legs, you’re nearly dripping as his cock slides, pushing back into you and the intensity makes you shake. You whine as Ivar’s hands squeeze yours, harder.

Pulling back, you feel his hands press into your back, his cock staying still and your mind is left to remember all of the times he would have taken a fistful of your hair into his grasp. Or how his hand print would redden across your backside. But this time, he’s taking his time, taking more care than he ever has to make sure you’re both going to remember this. He doing exactly what he said: he’s getting your child out the same way he put them in there. With love.

You don’t have the words to tell him to go faster, to fuck you harder. The sensitivity makes the pleasure that much more intense, and you’re on the grasp of your first release as his hips moves lazily. 

“You’re going to make me cum,” You gasp, causing Ivar to only hum in response as he moves. Nudging your head with his, his lips catch yours for a brief moment, pressing his forehead against you.

“You always feel so good,” He rasps, his cock slowly moving through your folds. 

You relax further into the pillows, your thighs shaking as he brushes your sweet spot. 

“Are you going to cum for me, sweet girl?” Ivar hums, and you only nod. “Good,” He teases. 

His thrusts grow deeper, pressing against you harder but still mindful of your body. Your orgasm grabs you suddenly, tired body shaking under him, fingers interlocked over yours. Humming from above you, you press against Ivar further, helping him over his edge as his muscles tense, cock releasing inside of you as he moans deeply from his chest. 

The room is still, his breathing over yours as Ivar nuzzles against you, eyes closed as he holds you. His cock finally flags as he moves back, pressing his hands against your back before he helps you move. 

“There you are,” Ivar teases, helping you stand on shaky legs and you only look up at the man who falls more in love with you every second.

“Can you help me get my nightgown back on?” You ask softly and Ivar chuckles. He moves then, and you stop him. “Wait, let me just hug you first,” You finally peep, wrapping your arms around his neck, inching as close to him as your bump will allow and Ivar only wraps back around you. 

“You know, it could take several attempts for this to work,” Ivar quips. 

“Oh, honey, I know,”

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[another-bryk-in-the-wall]

Porn Star Ivar (Ivar Lothbrok x F!Reader) - Part 1 & 2

I think I accidentally deleted the 1st part of the fanfic so here are both parts again! pls enjoy! i am trying to use as less details as possible for the girlie too tho.

Warnings: smut, masturbation, Ivar’s moods

*

‘Casting Call - Girly for my next shot wanted’

When she read those words on his website, she didn’t think too much of them - yet they were burnt into her brain. Not admitting to them. But she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t thought about them the following night and at work. Of course, this man was in her thoughts all the time. Clothed, unclothed. It didn’t matter.

Her fingers trembled as she hovered them above the screen, ready to click on the button. It’d take her to the casting call, to the specific requests he had for his girlies. From his continent. He wouldn’t spend his time flying in ladies from buttfuck nowhere if the girls close by are just as sweet. Well, one point for her. Not too big, not too small. The fuck did he mean with that?

The guy asked for a few pictures of the girlies. Everything would be handled under highest discretion and the pictures would be deleted after a few months. What he’d do with the pictures in the meanwhile? Well, a picture of her tits was out there thanks to her ex, so it wouldn’t be the worst thing ever. Pictures of her clothed, in her favourite lingerie and of her bare breasts. Guess this man was a tits man after all, just how she had suspected it.

Let’s sleep over it for another night, she thought as she put her phone away for the night. As her mind started to wander to what would happen once she submitted her casting call, an oh so familiar notification sound ripped her straight out of it. He had uploaded another set to his profile, and she couldn’t wait to see it.

‘Hey guys! this weeks photoshoot has a special meaning to me. my ancestors were vikings and this photoshoot was done to...honour them ;) enjoy!’

He was wrapped in furs and had some fake blood smeared on his upper body. His tattooed arms and chest poked out of the furs along with his hard cock. Oh fuck, she thought to herself, hopefully his ancestors are looking down from Valhalla and are proud of him now.

Screw sleep. Ever since this man started his onlyfans, her nights were spent thinking of what he could do to her, how he would feast on her pussy like a starving man. So many thoughts, not enough orgasms to calm her hunger. Nothing could keep her hands on top of the sheets at this point.

As her hands wandered down to her clothed sex, she swore she could taste him already. He’d taste of cigarettes and whiskey and testosterone. Fingers gazing over her clit, making her body vibrate in excitement. In the second picture, his whole body was exposed, his hard cock in his hand. He wasn’t a small man by any means, but his hands seemed to pale compared to his large cock. A drop of pre cum glistered on his tip, daring to drip down. She wondered how his cum would taste.

Her orgasm came hard and fast. After spending most of her day with slick thighs, thinking of so many ‘what ifs’, What if he chooses her. What if he takes her with him. What if he takes her right then and there? Her legs trembled as she imagined his cock inside of her instead of her bad dragon, curing the aching emptiness inside of herself.

On the following day, she took the pictures necessary for the submission. After about 200 pictures and having to choose only three good looking ones, her fingers hovered over a button again. But this time, this press could change her life. One, two, three, you can do this, she whispered as she closed her eyes and hit ‘send’.

She just successfully submitted her tits to Ivar Lothbrok, one of the top content creators on onlyfans.

*

“What do you think, Ivar? This girlie looks nice.”, Hvitserk said as he scrolled through the countless submission with his younger brother. Hundreds of women saw their chance to get into bed with their favourite porn star. The submissions ranged from barely legal 18 years old to MILFS (oh, how Ivar enjoyed their tits!), the occasional guy was present too.

Hvitserk turned the laptop into Ivar’s direction who was currently busy hitting up some lady in DMS. He placed his phone on the side for a moment, eyeing the submission. Black hair, pale skin. Eyes as blue as the ocean, something to match his own. Just the right size for his likeness, with a pair of boobs he could grab without troubles. Ivar nodded as he grabbed his phone once more, “Put her on the list. I will get over the best in a short while. If you excuse me now, a hot chick wants to see my dick.”

*

The mail with all the useful information hit her like a train. Having forgotten about submitting her information and pictures to her favourite porn star for a moment, she didn’t even think he (or his management) would come back at her, not even for a ‘sorry you didn’t make it’. Every word knocked more air out of her lungs as she held her phone with shaking hands.

“My dearest,

After seeing so many beautiful women over the past few days, making a decision was hard. I’d love to invite each and every single one to spend a few days with me, to show her what pleasure really means.

But you are the lucky one.”

She swallowed dry as the words seemed to overcrowd her brain, not letting her process anything she had just read. Over and over again. She was the chosen one? With her lightly saggy tits, her uneven eyebrow game and the not so white teeth? For real?

“I’d love to meet you next month. We can discuss further arrangements via mail, please let me know when you can fly in to me. Of course, hotel and flight will be paid by me.

Please reply to this mail asap :)

Love

Ivar Lothbrok”

*

Ivar scrolled through his phone again when the notification for a new mail piqued his interest. It was the girlie he had chosen. Well, not he alone. Hvitserk had some saying in it too - “make her be one of the ‘normal’ ones, then they will think they have a chance with you. And you know what that means? More cash for us.”

Hvitserk might not be the brightest light bulb in the lamp but he sure had his good moments. Ivar had chosen her in the end, maybe it was morbid curiosity, maybe she had actually peaked his interest too. He was tired of all the supermodels who are starfishes in bed. For his future content, he needed a freak.

And she just gave him these vibes.

___________________________

Part 2:

Hvitserk had the task of picking her up at the airport. The ticket wasn’t terribly expensive, and Ivar couldn’t wait to spend some time with his new...friend. She flew in on Wednesday and would stay until Monday, just enough time to get comfortable with each other and fuck. If it were to Ivar’s liking, they’d already fuck on Wednesday on the way home, but even the most impressive cock had its social standards to uphold.

The sign he drew for her was simple - her name and a few hearts on it. Knowing they’d spent most of their days in his house, either fucking or sleep, he had to make a good first impression. And Hvitserk was always a good first impression.

“You must be (Y/N), right?”, Hvitserk called out at the airport when he spotted her. With a big smile, she nodded, recognizing the man instantly. After he had shown up on Ivar’s instagram so often, she felt like she had met his family already, just a step away from the engagement ring. “Come on, Ivar is already waiting for us. Do you need anything for your stay? We can make a quick stop at a grocery store.”

After buying her body weight in different snacks and drinks, Hvitserk and her headed to the place Ivar was staying. It was a bit outside of the town, on top of a small hill. The house was inhabited by Ivar and Hvitserk most of the time, sometimes their girlies of the week too. But who was she to judge, if she could, she’d move there in a heartbeat.

The car ride was filled with some sweet chatter, feeling as if Hvitserk had been her friend for years. Sharing stories of the plane ride and what had happened to her. Thankfully no crying child was in front of her this time and no school class on their way to their language trip around. She’d even call it peaceful, as peaceful as being 10,000 feet above any kind of solid ground could be.

As the two pulled into the driveaway, Hvitserk stopped the car but didn’t unlock the doors just yet. “Just you know”, he said as he turned towards her, a small frown on his forehead, “Ivar can be moody sometimes. A real grump. A dick, I’d even call him. But don’t let this imitate you. He is still a human being after all this time and your consent is the most important thing. Fuck, if you think he is a fuckface, I can drive you back to the airport in an hour too.”, and all she could do was nod. The whole idea was still insane to her and honestly, she still couldn’t believe she was actually doing this. Knowing that there was someone around to catch her in case she’d fall was comforting.

By the time Hvitserk unlocked the doors, Ivar was standing in the door, waving them over. “Hey! You gotta be (Y/N)! Welcome to your new home!”, he smiled. Once she reached him, Ivar kissed her cheek left and right to greet her, a habit he had picked up on one of his many travels all around the globe. “Come inside, will you? Well, at least you can do that now, later it’s going to be my turn.”

Oh my.

*

The room she had gotten in the villa was bigger than her flat at home. Even with her own bathroom, the view reaching far, over the city to the mountains so many miles away. From her own, the reach was down to her neighbour’s garden where the old grump likes to sunbathe naked. She couldn’t tell how many times she had accidentally flashed by him when she just wanted to water her plants.

The view took her breath away, so much that she didn’t realize Ivar had entered the room. His eyes wandered over the open suitcase placed on the bed, filled with what she needed for the trip. Clothes, hygiene products…but what he was interested in was the lingerie placed neatly on top of the mountain of clothes.

“How do you know that black lingerie is my favourite?”, Ivar smirked as he picked one bra up, twirling it around with his finger. She turned around to look at the Dane, giving him a smile too. “You said it before in a video.” “Ah ah, got a very careful listener there, don’t I? I think you’ll do good in the videos. I can feel it in my bones.”

*

Ivar’s moodiness started to show during dinner. The two knuckleheads, as she had jokingly called them, had ordered dinner in, some chinese food, enough to feed an army and a half. It wasn’t even a big thing. The delivery guy had mixed up two bags, and instead of one order of noodles with chicken, they got noodles with vegetables.

But Ivar? For him, it was as if the world was ending. “Those useless bastards can’t do anything right! Complaining about not getting enough money and then can’t even tell two bags apart! Fuck them all!”, with those words, he got up from his seat, his chair falling down behind him. Not caring about a single thing in the world, he grabbed his bag and stormed out of the dining hall before Hvitserk or her could stop him.

Silence laid over the two for minutes, the rice and chicken steaming in front of them. “I am sorry.”, Hvitserk was the one to break the quietness, their eyes locking. “It is not only about the food, trust me. But don’t take it too close to your heart. It is not about you. It is just…Ivar.”

Once they finished eating, she decided to call it a day. Passing by Ivar’s room, she could hear whimpers coming from the inside. What was actually going on with him?

[istorkyou]

When We Were Wild (Modern!Ivar AU)

A Modern!Ivar x F Reader.

Warning - Childhood neglect. Mentions of drug use. Violence. Implied sexual assault. Alcoholism. Mentions of vomiting. Mentions of sex.

Synopsis - Best friends until….

Note - Everything in italics is a flashback.

Word count - 8642 (ooops....)

As always, massive love to @punkrocknpearls​ for talking me through this, the amazing beta (pretty sure she got the characters better than I did!) and for the fabulous moodboard above. You da BEST!

Tag List - As always, let me know if you want on or off.

@smears-and-spots @punkrocknpearls @youbloodymadgenius @momowhoo @zuxiezendler @not-another-viking-fanfic-blog @ivar-s-my-brat-tamer @pieces-by-me @heavenly1927 @berryonasummerevening @synnersaint @out-of-the-box-and-into-alchemy @petite-hime @serasvictoria @mimiiinspace @itsmysticalmystery @lonewolf471 @mylifeisactuallyamess @grimeundglow @draculasbride-blog @love-all-things-writing @southernbe @redhead7799 @kaybee87 @ivarlover @ivarhoegh @freydis-tyrsdottir @idgafiamallthefandoms @darkphoenix5037 @profoundtyrantharmony @snarling-through-our-smiles​

Masterpost

Chapter 1 

CHAPTER 2

You finish work and see a message on your phone from Ivar as you head out the door and onto the street.

Coming over after work? Bring Doritos. And beer. I have news.

When you finally get to his house he’s waiting at the door like an excited puppy. 

“Shitball! Guess what!” Ivar’s voice is high with excitement. 

You push your way past him to get into his house. “Move it. I need to pee! The traffic was a nightmare and I’m desperate.” You run past him, dumping the snacks and drinks on the counter. Annoyingly, he follows you to the bathroom, so you slam the door in his face. 

“I said guess what!?” He is shouting through the door.

“Can I piss in peace? Leave me alone.”

“Just GUESS!” he shouts again. 

“You have been crowned the world's most annoying asshole?” you yell at him as you flush, wash your hands and open the door. 

“Bjorn is engaged! Again!” Ivar shouts in your face.

“No he is not! He is NOT!!” Your bellowing laugh echoes down the hall. “What is this, the fifth time?” You start to laugh hysterically. “He’s such a fucking idiot, he does realise he hasn’t got to marry every woman he sticks his dick in, right?” 

Ivar laughs now and holds his hand up for a high five. “Thank god I have you. Ubbe and Hvitserk wouldn’t shit talk about it but I knew you would! Let’s bet on how long this one will last.”

“How long was the last one, six months? He will go longer this time, bet you a steak dinner.” You hold your hand out so he can shake it and seal the bet. 

“It’s on.” He grabs your hands and crushes it as he shakes it. “So, engagement party?”

“I’m not coming to another one,” you tell him flatly. “Do not give me that face. It’s exhausting being around you when you are with your family. I feel like I’m always tugging you away from the edge of a massive meltdown. You are horrible around them and I can’t be arsed with it.” 

You’ve told not one lie. Ivar Lothbrok is not the same Ivar you know. When he is around his family, and actually mostly anyone, he’s such a miserable, wound up person you barely recognise him. He goes into work mode. And work mode Ivar is your least favourite Ivar. He’s always ready to snap around them. He despises his brother Sigurd, hates Bjorn and his mother Lagertha, and has so many issues with his father that you stopped talking to him about them years ago. He gets on OK with his two other brothers Hvitserk and Ubbe but only just. He is angry and nasty around them and it pains you to watch it. He seems to always be waiting for something bad to happen.

“That’s why you have to come with me. I need you there so I don’t commit a violent crime. Come on, you have to come. Everyone is expecting you there anyway. Here.” He leans past you to the kitchen counter and passes you the envelope. “See, it’s addressed to us both. Come on, please come. My trusty sidekick.”

“Uh, if there is any side kick in this friendship it’s you, I’m the level headed, mature protagonist trying to keep you in line. You are the Walter Sobchak in this,” you correct him, motioning between the two of you.

“The best character in the movie? Correct. You are coming with me and that’s all there is to it.” He looks at you with a deep frown.

“Oh fucking fine I will then, wipe that shitting look of your face. Ivar, you have to at least try this time. I’m being serious about it being draining on me and I hate seeing you like that.” You mean it and he knows it. “I know your family isn't exactly easy but it’s not a work thing. I wouldn’t be there if it was, you know that.” 

“I wouldn’t have you there if it was, you know that.” Ivar mirrors your language to emphasise his point. “I will try. I will stay away from Sigurd at the very least,” he sneers at his name.

“God I hate Sigurd. He’s such a twat.” you sneer as well. 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

The party's at a predictably upmarket venue: a grand hotel, the party is in the grounds, around a pool. It’s beautifully decorated with a million pink flowers in giant white vases. There are lots of waiters passing round tiny, bite sized food and champagne. Everyone is dressed in their best suits and dresses and you are pleased you chose to wear your trusty long red gown when you saw the address of the party. You look the part even if you don’t feel it. 

The hotel is between yours and Ivar places, a little closer to his posh area than your own downtown flat so you agree to meet there. When you get there you skulk around the edge of the party trying to avoid everyone, grabbing a champagne from a passing waiter. You try to like champagne, but you just can’t. You walk to one of the bars and order a gin and tonic and turn around trying to find him. It doesn’t take you long to spy him on the other side of the pool.

You watch Ivar stalk around the party. His whole demeanour is different in this sort of setting. You can see the tension in him, in his shoulder, in his jaw; his expression is one of extreme irritation. You watch him knock back two shots of whiskey and look around the place. You see his eyes settle on Sigurd and his lips pull back when Sigurd waves at him patronisingly. 

Fucking Sigurd. 

You watch him throw another whiskey down his throat and pull his phone out. You hear your own phone beep from your bag and you pull it out to see a message from him.

Where are you? I’m getting pissed off on my own.

You let out a huff of laughter and type back.

Stop drinking so many shots, that might help. 

You see his head whip up and scan the room again, finding you standing by the far bar. You see him physically relax at the sight of you and he starts making his way over. You motion for him to stay where he is and that you will come to him; you can see his movements are slower and jerkier than usual, and you know that it isn’t a good day for him. He nods and sits back down.

As you walk around the tables you pass Sigurd, who just can’t help himself. “Off to put a leash on your puppy?” he jeers as you walk past. 

“God you are a shitting bore, Sigurd.” You don’t even bother to look at him. 

When you get to Ivar he is rubbing his knee.

“You alright?” You gesture to his leg. He nods but unconvincingly. “Doesn’t look like it.” 

“Just a bad day. You need a new dress, you only ever wear that one.” He looks you up and down.

“Piss off.” You stick your tongue out and he laughs but winces in pain after.

“Let’s just stay for food and the speech or whatever they have planned and let’s get out of here. We can use your legs as an excuse, yeah?” you offer.

“Yep let’s do that.” He smiles at you gratefully. 

The rest of the night is fine. You stay sitting with Ivar and chat to Ubbe and Hvitserk, go to congratulate Bjorn and his new fiancé, whose name you don't bother to learn; she won’t be around that long and it’s not like you hang out with Bjorn anyway.

You go to talk to Aslaug on your way back to sit with Ivar. You can see she’s drunk, which is not an unusual state to find her in these past few years.

“Hello dear. Ivar OK? He hasn’t moved all evening.” She wobbles slightly and you help her to a chair. “He's lucky to have you. I am looking forward to you giving me grand babies.”

“Aslaug. You know we are friends, nothing more.”

“A mother always knows. A mother sees everything. It’s been in the stars for you and him forever.” She slurs. You want to tell her that surely she can't see anything when she is in her usual Sauvignon Blanc haze but you don’t, she doesn’t deserve your sniping just because being around drunk women triggers you. She's been a mother and father to you over the years. She’s the reason you made it to adulthood, quite frankly, definitely the reason you were able to go into further education and the reason you don’t have angry outbursts like you did when you were a child. She isn’t trying to be annoying, she just wants what’s best for Ivar, her own flesh and blood. She just wants him to be happy. 

“S’important that you fall in love with a nice man. A good man. Not someone like Ragnar…” She motions sloppily to her husband, who is standing a little too close to Lagertha. “Ivar is a good man. You are a perfect match.”

You can’t have this conversation with her. Not again. Ivar needs you tonight, and you don’t need the ghost of this perpetual conversation haunting you while you are trying to help him. 

“I’m going to go and get you some water, I will send someone over, OK?” You put a hand on her arm, and she nods vaguely.

At the bar you stand next to a tall guy ordering a beer. After he has paid you ask the barman for water. 

“You don’t drink?” the stranger asks.

“Hell yeah I do, especially at these things. The water is for my friend's mum. She’s had one too many.”

“Ah, you are Ivar’s friend? I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m Aethelred.” He leans in and gives you a kiss on the cheek. 

“That’s me. Nice to meet you. I have to get this bottle of water to Aslaug. Maybe I will see you around?” You smile at him. Nice face, plummy English accent is funny too. You hope you will see him out at a different time. 

You are planning to get Ubbe to help Aslaug but as you walk around the party you just can't help yourself. “Evening Ragnar. Your wife is sitting alone over there. Your current wife I mean,” you tell him, disdain dripping off your tongue. You give Lagertha a quick up and down sweep of your eyes, turn to Ragnar, who is watching you in amusement and raise your eyebrows until he shifts uncomfortably and excuses himself to go to Aslaug. 

“Give her this, Ragnar.” You hand him the water bottle and gesture for him to go and tend to Aslaug. “Go on, I’m sure Lagertha can cope on her own.” You don’t even look at her. 

Ragnar takes the bottle and starts to walk away. “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, my dear. I can see why you and Ivar have been friends for so long.” 

“Yes well someone has to look out for him in the absence of others doing their part.” You roll your eyes. 

Lagertha waits for Ragnar to leave before speaking to you. “You don’t like me much do you?”

You feign shock at her words. “God, I thought I was hiding it so well,” you reply before letting your face fall into petulance again. Turning on your heel, you walk away back to Ivar.

Ivar gestures with his head towards the bar. “Aethelred trying his luck? He is a slimy little shit, just so you know. Not sure why he was invited here tonight.”

“Is he? Fuck sake, why am I always attracted to the slimy ones?!” 

“Terrible taste, Shitball.” He looks over to his mother and father who are arguing. “Thanks for sticking up for her, I saw the look you gave Lagertha; and you tell me to be nicer around my family,” he laughs. 

“She’s not your family. Your mother asked again when we are going to have kids. She’s getting worse again, her drinking I mean.” His face falls and so does your heart. “I think we should look into getting her some help.” 

His mouth twists in sad acceptance. “I will talk to Ubbe, he can broach it with Father. Shall we go? I’ve had enough tonight.” 

“It’s your father’s bloody fault she’s like that! I will look into facilities and send them to Ubbe. I’ve ordered a cab, I’ll come back to yours and help you out, what do you need? Bath, that stinky ointment stuff?” You gesture to his legs.

“Thanks, probably both.” He gives you a quick sideways glance. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’d just hang out with all your other friends….. oh wait…” You laugh and pull him up to his feet and he grabs you for a cuddle. “Ivar, get off me, You're like an octopus when you are drunk.” 

“I’m not drunk, I’m just giving you your annual hug to let you know I appreciate you.”

“Oh get a shitting grip,” you scoff at him but hug him back. It’s not often either of you show each other affection, usually only when something really bad has happened. “Come on then, shall we get a pizza when we get to yours?”

“Read my mind.”

“You two are finally together then?” Sigurd asks from behind you. 

You look at each other, roll your eyes and tell him to fuck off in unison. 

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A lemon drizzle slab lands in front of you. “Hell yeah, thanks,” You tell him as he sits down opposite you.

“I want half,” he warns you. 

“Why are you such a skinflint? Go and buy yourself one,” You throw your arm around the plate protectively.

“It was the last one.”

“Oh fair enough, OK, here you go,” you retort with a sigh as you slide it over to him, already having snarfed your half. 

You get a message on your phone from an unsaved number and as you read it your stomach turns.

Hello love. It’s your dad, long time no see. I’m in a bit of trouble. Can you help me out?

You let a confused scoff and give Ivar your phone. “Look at this. Who the fuck would send that to me? That’s a bit of a sick joke isn’t it?”

Ivar’s face turns murderous as he reads the message, his knuckles white as his grips your phone. 

“Give me it back, I will text them and tell them to fuck off. Ivar, pass me the phone.” You gesture for him to give it to you which he does, reluctantly, and you type out a reply quickly.

Fuck off weirdo. 

Three dots appear immediately. 

It’s me, Angel Dust. I need your help. I know you have a good job, I just need help, just this once. 

As soon as you read the nickname you know it’s actually your father. You are sure it’s written over your face so now Ivar knows it too. He grabs the phone and reads it. 

“Fucking Angel Dust? He used to call you Angel Dust?!”

You nod slowly, trying to process that the man who left you alone in the world, thirteen years ago has just hit you up for money. “I thought it was cute until I was old enough to know better. I feel sick.” Everything in your stomach is churning around and around, threatening to make a reappearance. You have to lay your head on the table to stop the world from spinning. “I don’t feel good, Ivar.” His hand is on your hair, smoothing it down, comforting you. 

“You need to puke?” he asked concernedly, but you shake your head.

“I’m calling him.” Ivar is calm, and that is worrying. Calm before his storm, always. Every time. You look up at him and he is waiting for permission and you say nothing, which he takes as a yes. 

There is no way on earth you could speak to that man. He neglected you all your childhood and then left you one day, just vanished into thin air. 

Ivar has your phone to his ear. 

“Angel fucking dust?  No it’s not, it’s Ivar. Oh you remember me do you? Do you remember my father?I thought you might. She isn’t giving you anything, she doesn’t owe you one fucking thing.” His voice is so low and menacing you are almost scared. As he listens to your father you see his face getting angrier and angrier. “You abandoned her, she was put into care!!” he screams down the phone. The whole of the cafe goes silent. 

“Do you know what happened to her in care? Of course you don’t, you fucking piece of shit! If you contact her again I will hunt you down and you do not want to ever come face to face with me, I fucking promise you that.” He falls into silence again as he listens. “I don’t care what fucking rock bottom you have hit, whether you get sober and want to make amends, whether you win the fucking lottery or become the king of England, you don’t contact her again, do I make myself clear? She’s fucking perfect, she’s fucking hilarious, beautiful, she’s fucking witty, loving, loyal, caring and beyond kind and that has fuck all to do with you and her shitty mother. And that is your fucking loss. Now delete this number and forget you have a daughter because you haven’t been a father to her in the twenty years I’ve known her and you’re sure as fuck not about to start now. If she hears from you again I will kill you. That’s a promise.” 

He gets up from the table, throws the phone down, squeezes you on the shoulder quickly before walking out of the cafe with everyone staring at him. You sit for a while. You know he’d have only gone round the corner to wait for you, but you also know that after an outburst like that he will need time to cool off. Probably wipes away some furious tears that always fall when he gets this worked up. 

It also gives you time to assess your own feelings about your dad.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He abandons you just before your 15th birthday and you end up in a group home. You’re there for three months before Aslaug pulls strings and gets you out. It isn’t until you are at their house after school one day and she catches a glimpse of some bruises on your neck. She automatically knows what’s been happening when you go red and try to cover them, keeping your eyes off hers. 

“Older boys. They don’t like me. Or they like me a little too much, I’m not sure.”

“Are you hurt…anywhere else?” she asks very gently, you know what she is asking without her saying the words. 

You squirm in your seat. “A little, not… fully,” you say to the floor. When you look up you can see the horror on her face, the sadness, and you don’t want her to feel that for you. “I fought them off. I bit a large chunk out of one of their shoulders, one has a broken nose and the other got kicked in the nuts. Ivar taught me a thing or two,” you tell her, chin tipped up in pride. “They ended up in the hospital.” You can’t front it out for too long though, an adult is listening to you finally and so you tell her. “They say they are going to do…. other things to me soon. Don’t worry, I haven’t told Ivar,” you add quickly, “he would kill them and I don’t want him in trouble.”

“At this moment, my dear, the only thing I am worried about is you. You are not going back to that hellhole. You will stay here with us. I’ve been trying to do this legitimately, go through solicitors and the courts to get guardianship of you but I think I will have to involve Ragnar's influence.”

“Don’t tell him what they did to me, don’t tell anyone. Please,” you plead with her, panic in your voice. No one but her can know. People will look at you differently.

She pulls you in for a hug. “Don’t you feel ashamed for something that was done to you. That shame lies with them. You are strong, resilient, nothing that has happened to you is your fault, your mother, your father, those animals at the group home.” She cups your face and forces you to look her in the eye. “None of this is your fault and I will get you help to deal with this all, I promise.”

Ivar comes into the kitchen and grabs juice out of the fridge and drinks from the carton.

Aslaug turns to him, and pulls her shoulder back into a poised stature and announces breezily: “Ivar, she will be staying with us from now on. Please can you set up the spare room?”

Ivar looks between you and his mother. “Why what’s happened?” You can’t look at him so you fiddle with the glass in front of you. 

“Nothing has happened, Ivar. I just feel it will be better for her if she is here, going forward.”

You hear the dragging of his left leg and the hit of his crutch on the floor as he rounds the kitchen island to you. 

“Shitball, you tell me now. What happened?”

“Ivar, that’s not a nice nickname, please use her real name,” she tuts lightly at her son. 

“That’s my name for her, Mother,” he spits quickly and his hand is on your face gently pulling you up to face him. His tone is totally different when he addresses you, soft and caring. “You don’t lie to me do you? Something bad happened.”

You never lie to him, but you will not let him get in trouble again, he’s rarely out of it these days. “Something happened, but it wasn’t that bad, and I sent them all to the hospital, just like you taught me. I need you to leave it alone, it’s done, I need to forget it, if you get involved it’s dragged out for me and it will hurt me more.” You can feel the corners of your mouth turn down and you know you are about to cry.

You can see the internal battle in his expression, but you know he will do as you ask. He won’t want you in more pain than necessary. 

He nods once. 

That night, after everyone is asleep he sneaks to your room.

When the door opens you jump out of your skin; used to it meaning something else. 

He reads the fear on your face. “It’s just me. You want me to go?”

You shake your head and he climbs under your covers to hold you as you cry and work through all that's happened to you in the last few months. The relief at being safe, at being able to sleep without fear is overwhelming and Ivar is there to hold you as you are wracked with tears.

Aslaug finds you in the same bed every morning after that first night. One morning she asks you candidly, but with no judgement, if you need her to buy condoms but you tell her abruptly that it is not like that between you. It’s never been that. You still find some in your bedside cabinet the next day. 

She manages to get you into a private assisted residential program a year later. After a thorough vetting of the place, every member of staff and the teens in the program from the family's private detective. She knows you will be safe there.

She checks with you every day for six months before you leave that you want to go into the program, and you do. You want to be away from Ragnar's business. You know enough about their shit now you’ve lived there and you know you don’t want to be caught up in it. Aslaug agrees when you are honest with her and she pays for everything. 

Ivar is so hurt when you tell him you are leaving, but you are straight with him and tell him that the family business scares you and you don’t want yourself, or him, tied up in it. You’ve been through enough, You just want a quiet life. No more drama. 

You move out of the program on your eighteenth birthday, with the financial help of Aslaug who pays your rent for you as you work your ass off to pay for college. You refuse her help on that. You can do it yourself. And you do. You graduate with top grades and a job offer follows not too soon after. After a few years you have saved enough money to repay her for all the rent she paid out for you when you were at college. She point blank refuses to take it. 

“Use it for a house deposit or for the wedding when you finally marry Ivar,” she smirks. 

“You wish!” You laugh but you soon turn serious. “I don’t know what I can do to repay you for everything you’ve done for me. I don’t know what I would have done without your help. I know that my life would have been a lot worse if it weren’t for you.”

“You’ve repaid me every day since you befriended Ivar as children. There’s no greater gift could ever give me than what you have already done. Except grand babies?” She winks at you. 

You roll your eyes but crush her with a hug. 

“Aslaug, can I be frank? Are you OK? I’ve noticed you drinking more than usual. I’m not trying to pry or be rude.”

She looks away for a second. “I have… things are….. hard for me at the moment. Just make sure Ivar is OK, I will stop soon.” 

You know she won’t. You saw this within your own mother. But what can you do except keep an eye on her and help her when you can. 

————

Years later, when you are in your early twenties, you tell Ivar what happened to you in the group home. He listens silently, jaw ticking and nostrils flaring in anger. He doesn’t say anything, he just holds you when the memory of it makes you sob. 

Another year has passed when you see their names in the newspaper. All three attacked in one night, all in critical condition in hospital. The attacks are seemingly random, the newspaper or the police haven't made a connection between the three of them, but you know it wasn’t random, and you are more than aware of their connection to each other and to you. 

When you turn up at Ivar’s door that night you stand staring at each other for a few seconds before his expression turns to unease. He knows all is well a second later when you throw yourself into his arms. 

“Violent little shit, aren’t you?” you murmur into his neck. “Thank you.”

Neither of you ever speak of it again.  

---------------------------------------------------------------------

You finally have allowed him enough time so you get up from the table grabbing his coat and your own and leave the cafe to find him. He’s in an alleyway a few streets along, shivering against the wind, smoking a cigarette, surrounded by stamped out cig butts.

“You OK?” you ask him as you rub his cold arms.

“Fuck that, are you OK?” 

You nod and try to hide your nostrils flaring as tears sting at your eyeballs.

“No, no. No tears for him! Don’t you dare cry over him.” He pulls you into him after taking his coat out of your arms and wrapping it around your shoulders. 

“I’m not crying about him. I’m crying at what he did to me. I was still a child and he just left me.” 

“Shhhh shhhh, I know. I know you were. I’m going to call Dr Hersher for you, set you up an appointment. It’s been a minute since you saw her, you need it. Ok? You don’t owe that man a fucking thing, you hear me?” 

You nod into his chest, feeling a shiver from him. You slip his coat off you and put it on him.

“You keep it, you are never warm.” 

“I’ve got a jumper and coat on already. I’m like Lloyd Christmas and his extra gloves. Put it on, you will die of hypothermia.” 

He lets you do up the buttons. “You want to go home? I’ll come with you?” he offers.

You nod at him and he throws his arm over your shoulder. “Come on, let's get you some food.” 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Your apartment buzzer is relentless. Someone is just leaning on it it would seem. You check the clock and it’s almost 1am. If it’s one of your neighbours friends again you swear you are going to draw blood from someone. 

You stomp to the intercom. “What!?” you shout into it. 

“S’me.” Ivar's slurring voice announces, “buzz me up.”

You open the door when he bangs and he practically falls through the front door almost knocking you over.

“Tell me you did not sleep with that little fucking twat Aethelred. The most slimy little bastard on the planet got into your pants?” 

“Ivar, you are so drunk, you smell like a brewery. What are you doing here?”

“Just so you know. He’s not a good guy. He was in the pub tonight telling everyone he fucked you and that he is going to fuck you until he gets bored of you.”

“Oh well that’s wonderful,” you say sarcastically. You start picking up the trail of shoes, jacket and jumper he is shedding as he makes his way to your bedroom. 

“Do you think you are going to be sick? I will get a bucket.” 

“M’not going to be sick..” but his sudden detour to your bathroom and the sound of his stomach contents hitting your toilet bowl gives you a distinct feeling he was lying. 

You sigh massively. You can’t have him barfing on your carpet. You go to the towel cupboard and lay them out all over the bed and the carpet to the side and stick the bucket next to where he will no doubt end up sleeping. 

“You OK in there?” You hear another retch and a splash and head into the bathroom, his hair has come loose from the hairband so you rake your fingers through it and tie it back up, just in time for the third upchuck. He sits back heavily, back against the bath, wiping his mouth.

You see his knuckles grazed and battered. “What did you do to your hand?“ You take it to look at his injury. “Did you fall over? You drunken mess.Thanks for dropping in and abusing my facilities by the way.” You laugh at him but his face is serious. 

“I didn’t fall, punched him.” Ivar slurs, eyelids heavy with drunken fatigue.

“Who did you punch?” You stand up to wet a washcloth and to get some antiseptic cream. You start to clean his skinned knuckles up gently and glance up at him waiting for an answer. “Who did you punch?” 

“Why is it never me?” he slurs out, his eyes all over your face.

“Why is what never you? Never you who gets punched? Fuck knows, you are annoying as shit,” you chuckle and smear some antiseptic cream over his knuckles. “You need some ice for that hand?”

“No. I love you y’know?” 

“Yeah, yeah I know. Come on, let me help you up.” You wrap one of his big arms over your shoulder and help him get steady on his feet. “Good job I’ve been doing barbell squats at the gym, you massive lump.” He just grunts at you. 

You help him into the bedroom and he flops onto the bed heavily. You start to unbuckle his braces. He lets you, you are probably the only person in the world he would let do this.

“Shitball. Why did you sleep with him?” His eyes are almost asleep.

“Because I was horny and he was there. Won’t ever happen again though. He was absolutely terrible in bed. Didn’t take any notice when I told him he was rubbing about an inch away from my clit.” Your eyebrows raised at the memory. “There's a bucket down here, please don’t puke in my bed.”

“K. I punched him. For what he was saying about you.” He waves his busted hand around. “He deserved it. It’s never us.” You manage to wriggle his jeans off his legs very carefully and cover him over with the duvet. 

“You shouldn’t have punched him. Violent little shit. What’s not us?” But the only response you get is loud snoring. You roll your eyes and manage to pull him onto his side in case he pukes again. 

You sleep on the sofa, the last thing you want is waking up in the night to him vomiting on you.

------------------------------------------

You are woken by him calling for you. You hop off the sofa and go to your bedroom. 

“Jeez it stinks of alcohol and puke in here!” You walk to the window, “close your eyes, I’m going to open the curtains to crack the window.” You wait until his hands cover his face, groaning and you open the window then close the curtains again. 

“Why am I here? What happened?” Ivar groans.

You walk around the bed and check the bucket, wrinkle your nose and pick it up to empty it in the bathroom. “You turned up absolutely hammered,” You empty the bucket into the toilet and rinse it out, “you punched Aethelred, that’s why your hand is fucked up.” Walking back into your bedroom you see him looking at his knuckles. 

“I did what?” He rubs his eyes. “Where’s my phone ?” 

You sigh heavily and grab his jeans finding it in his pocket, you give it to him after you stick your charger into it. 

“I screwed him and he was being rude about me in the pub apparently, you took offence,” You open the water next to him and find some painkillers, handing them to him. “You puked three times then passed out in my bed so I slept on the sofa.”

He is texting on his phone furiously then discards it on your bedside table.

“Great. I’m dying.”

You crawl into bed. “I had a shit night's sleep on the sofa. It’s only 5am, go back to sleep. Buckets on the floor.” You turn away from him and pull the duvet up over your shoulder and go back to sleep.

The sound of him retching wakes you up thirty minutes later. He’s leaning over the side of the bed puking into the bucket. You roll your eyes and rub his back. “What did you drink last night? I’ve never seen you this hungover.”

“Can’t remember.”

You empty the bucket again and come back into your bedroom.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I came here last night. Sorry you are having to look after me.”

“This is nothing. You remember when I got E-Coli?? Not that I want to bring that memory up but you’ve cleaned up way worse!” You laugh at the memory of it, you can laugh now. You couldn’t look at him for weeks after. “Go back to sleep. I’ll make you some food if you feel like it later.” You run your hand over his hair a few times, you know he likes that. He makes a happy noise and is snoring again in seconds. 

You are woken up again by the feeling of him behind you. Spooning you, his left arm heavy over your waist. You think about moving him but he’s dead to the world and you know he needs to sleep it off. So you leave him where he is, enjoying the warmth of a body behind you.

When you finally wake up for good you are facing him and his eyes are on you. 

“How are you feeling now?” you ask.

“Like hell. So you and that slimy twat fucked then? You really have got a terrible taste in men, you know that? 

“Oh shut up and yes I know I do. I don’t know why my man radar is so broken but it is.” You sigh heavily.

“There's business beef there as well, with us and his family.”

“Oh fucking hell why didn’t you tell me that? I wouldn’t have gone near him. You punched him last night, will it be a bigger thing?”

“I want to keep you out of all of that. You don't need to know anything. I messaged Ubbe earlier. Father has spoken to the head of their family and it’s smoothed over.”

“I'm sorry,” you say sadly. “And he was shit in bed as well. So not worth any hassle. Do you want some food? I’ll make you some breakfast.”

“Don’t cook, it might not stay down. Do you know what I really want? A Big Mac, fries and a chocolate milkshake.”

“You are so wrong,” you laugh as you pull out the phone to order it. 

He eats a lot slower than he usually does but he manages to get it all down.

“Better? Are you going to go home at any point?” 

“No, can’t move.”

It’s half that. The hangover is half the reason he is staying but you know the other half after reading your phone earlier.

“Ubbe texted me this morning saying your mum went to rehab yesterday. Is that why you went a bit crazy on the alcohol last night? Why didn’t you tell me?” You’ve been waiting for him to bring it up but he hasn’t, and sometimes he needs a little push to open up. 

You see his jaw clench and his nostrils flare in annoyance. “Yeah, probably. Don’t know, I don't want you to worry I suppose.” He scoots down under your duvet more and doesn’t look at you. “I was doing OK until I saw that prick you screwed and he was being disrespectful, you know I can’t allow that. That’s when I let loose.” 

“She will be OK in there, you know that right? I have all the faith in that woman, she’s resilient as shit, you get that from her, not from your father like everyone else seems to think. She’s the reason you are so tough here”- You tap the side of his head -“she’s just had a hard few years and has lost her way.” You look away from him when you see a tear slip out the corner of his eye; he doesn’t like an audience to his emotions. 

You throw your arm over his head and he moves it forward so your arm is around his shoulders, you scoot to him, pulling the side of his head to yours. “She will be your Mother again, when she gets out of there. You will recognise her again. Ok?”

He wipes his eyes and sniffs, nodding stiffly against your head. 

“Ok, what can we watch to cheer you up? Silence of The Lambs? Fight Club? Predator?”

“Fight club, please.” He sniffs again. “Do I smell? I’ve just caught a whiff of something.”

“You fucking stink, Ivar, a heady mix of stale booze, vom, sweat and McDonald’s. It’s pretty potent.”

“Oh well. That sucks for you doesn’t it?” He laughs with no shame at all. 

“It really does. You have to have a bath later if you are staying.”

“Sorry about the state of me last night.” 

You just shrug. “Get a grip, it’s not the first time and it won’t be the last.” 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You’ve heard the rumour. Everyone heard it as soon as school opened. You call him but he doesn’t answer. You text him but no answer. You wait for him on the steps as usual but he doesn’t show up. 

You can hear people whispering about him until you get close enough then people have the sense to stop talking and look away. As they fucking should if they are talking about him. 

It gets to lunchtime and you call him again; he still doesn't answer. 

You overhear her talking about him when you go into the locker room to get changed. 

“…..his legs are so weird and skinny, they freaked me out. He’s a good kisser but it just didn’t get.. you know.. hard. At all. It was so embarrassing for him. I asked him to leave in the end because it was just so fucking awkward. I mean, who wouldn’t be able to get it up with me? I’m fucking hot, way hotter than him. Ugh I shouldn’t have given him the chance. He messaged me loads asking me not to tell anyone but oops, I already had…” She laughs so nastily and so do her he little fucking lemmings. 

The red mist descends. 

You’ve elbowed her little group out of the way and your hand is pinning her to lockers by the throat before you know it.

“Maybe you’ve just got a clapped cunt and his dick is more discerning, prefers treasure to trash, know what I mean? Did you ever think of that? You stop talking about him now. You don’t mention him, his legs, or whatever happened between you ever again. Do you get me?” Her face is so scared you let her go quickly. She coughs and holds her neck as some of her friends run to her. 

“You are a fucking psycho! Do you know that?” 

You nod at her. “I do. I do know that, yet it didn’t stop you talking shit about my best friend did it? You shitting moron. You think I’d let you get away with that? I hear nothing else from you about him and if I do I will kick seven shades of shit out of you. Don’t go to the teachers either. Got it?” 

She nods quickly but you realise it’s not enough, not enough for the humiliation she’s caused him so you punch her twice in her face anyway. 

You leave the locker room to the shouts of her friends and her wailing, walk out the school ignoring the teachers calling after you and go to Ivar’s house. 

Aslaug lets you in. “Dear, what are you doing here? You should be in school. Ivar is sick.”

“Can I go and see him?” She gives you a soft smile, full of appreciation. 

“Of course. I will call the school and the program and let them know you are here and don’t feel well.” She walks to the fridge and hands you two cokes. “That way you won’t get in any trouble.” 

“Thank you.” 

You go to his bedroom and knock on the door softly. You haven’t really thought about what you are going to say to him, but sitting in silence with him is better than him sitting alone. 

There is no answer so you just go on in and find him lying in his bed with his phone in his hand. 

“Go away.”

You get a hit in the chest from his words: he hasn’t ever said anything like that to you before. You just stand in his room not really knowing what to do. 

“I said go away,” he says louder. “Just fuck off, I don’t want you here.” 

You try not to let it, but his words have caused tears to spring. You feel your mouth turn down at the corners involuntarily. 

He looks at you and does a double take at your face. “Don’t fucking cry, please. Just leave.” He’s softer this time but still firm with you. 

You nod once and you turn towards his door with a ripping feeling in your chest. “Sorry,” you say meekly.

The thought comes unbidden: you have no one left if you don’t have him anymore.

His words stop you. “Wait.”

You stop, turn around. 

“Why did you have to punch her? She texted me telling me you pinned her in the locker room, and she thinks her nose is broken.” He is angry at you, frustrated. 

“She was saying horrible stuff about you, lying about you. I was supposed to just allow it? Would you like it if you heard someone lying about me?” 

He covers his face over with both his hands. “It’s not a lie. It’s true.” He turns away from you, slides down under the covers and starts to cry. “Just leave me alone.” 

“I will shitting not,” you tell him indignantly. You walk over and sit down on his bed next to him, propped up on the pillows. “Anyway, that’s all the more reason to choke the shit out of her and give her a cheeky punch for spreading something so personal about you then. She’s lucky she got away with only two punches.” 

He says nothing. “You want to talk about it?” you offer. 

“No I don’t, just shut the fuck up about it.” 

“Gotcha.” 

You sit with him for hours in silence. You play on your phone and wait for him, and, even though your heart is breaking for him you are also incredibly relieved that he didn’t let you leave even after he told you to. You don’t know what you do without him. 

He breaks the silence eventually but still has his back to you. “I’m never going back to that school.”

“Yeah, school's bullshit anyway, let’s just pack it in. We can join the circus.” 

“There’s no word for how I’m feeling. Mortified doesn’t even cover it, Shitball.” 

You hear his sniff and see him wipe his eyes. You reach over and start to smooth his hair down.

“Now, I don't want you to go mental at me but I may have said a few things to her whilst I was in a rage,” you say apprehensively. He turns over slowly and you look at him out of the corner of your eyes with a regretful look on your face.

“Oh yeah? What did you say then?” His eyes are already rolling. 

“I may or may not have told her it was probably her fault because she's probably got a clapped cunt and you can’t help it if your dick is more discerning.”

You look at him, waiting for him to explode into a rage but he doesn’t. He starts to laugh. 

“You did not say that to her! You did not!!” he is still laughing.

“I did,” you reply, clapping your hand over your mouth and start to laugh. 

When you stop laughing you look at him and he is sad again. 

“How am I going to live this down? Does my dick just not work?? Ugh fuck my life.” 

You debate what to do here. Do you just let it go, change the subject and spare the awkwardness between you, or do you plough straight into a conversation neither of you really wants to have. 

You decide to dive in. 

“You jerk off right?” You look him square in the eyes when you ask him. 

“Fuck off.” He looks at you with a disgusted face. 

You roll your eyes. “I’m just saying that there is nothing wrong physically if you jerk off. And I know you get morning glories because you’ve unsuccessfully hidden many from me over the years.”

His jaw drops. “Are you trying to add to my humiliation?!”

“No, I’m just saying!” You pause. “What did you do?” you ask him quietly.

“What do you mean? With her? I fucking got out of there as fast as I could.”

“No I mean, what did you do, like… together?” you ask him awkwardly.

His jaw drops again. “What are you some sort of pervert? Piss off.” 

“Look, it was your first time doing anything right? I bet you were super nervous, am I right? Kissing?” You are trying to keep the blush off your face.

“Yeah.”

“Hand stuff?” you ask quietly. He shakes his head “No hand stuff at all? Boobs? Other…. bits?” 

He groans, shakes his head and looks away from you.

“Mouth stuff?” 

He shakes his head again.

“So you went from kissing straight to P in V?” you are so confused and he can see it.

“She wanted that, she said let’s just do it…”

“Ok, well there it is friend. Mystery solved. You have to warm up the ovens before you stick the bread in. Her oven and yours, if you catch my drift.”

You know the answer to this but it’s relevant so you bring it up. “Did you let her see your legs?”

He looks at you and his mouth twists round when he nods. “She made a face at them,” he admits. 

You scoff. “So basically what you're telling me is she made you feel shit about your legs, you kissed for a bit then you tried to have sex. This doesn’t sound like a long term problem, Ivar. This sounds like one shitty experience.” You watch him carefully as you speak; he’s quiet and contemplative, and you know you’ve finally gotten through to him. “Do you know what? Even if you managed to shag her I bet she would have been dry as the Sahara with the lack of foreplay and it wouldn’t have been much fun for either of you. Can you say ripped banjo string?” You shudder and so does he.

“Do you think?” 

“I do. I don’t lie to you, do I?” He shakes his head and gives you a little smile. 

“Do you even like her?” you ask.

He shrugs. “Not really. She’s an asshole.”

“She’s a total asshole.”

He groans again. “How am I going to show my face at school? Everyone knows!” 

“We go in, we front it out. We will just have to punch anyone who looks at you wrong won’t we? I’ll tell everyone we’ve done it together before and you’ve never had an issue so it must have been having an off day,” you offer and he smiles gratefully at you. 

“No. Don’t do that. That’s not fair to you. It will give you a…. reputation.”

“As opposed to the stellar one I have already? A punch happy daughter of a dead drunk and abandoned by a junkie father, living in a glorified care home? Everyone thinks we screw each other anyway. I don’t think one extra thing will hurt my chances at the debutante ball,” you retort, putting on a southern American drawl.

He chuckles at you. “No. Don’t tell people that. I appreciate it though. Just… stay with me at school?” 

“Of course.” 

You drag him to school the next day. The longer he stays off the worse it will get. The thought of it is always worse than just pulling off the band aid. 

No one says anything to either of you at school, although it’s clear they are talking behind his back.

At lunch time you eat on the benches as always.

“Ivar, I think we are doing very well today, we haven’t punched anyone at all. That’s progress, my friend.”

“Oh there’s still time,” he jokes. 

A few weeks later things have mostly blown over and people have moved to the next scandal. Obviously it’s not forgotten, these things never are. 

You helped a bit though, even though you told him you wouldn't, you whispered in a few gossipy ears that you know first hand his dick works perfectly.

You never tell him this.

Chapter 3

[artemiseamoon]

Road full of promises

Hvitserk x Mystic! F reader

Words: 2,071 | Credit to GIF owners (one is mine) 

I lied, this is not short, it's long :) 

AN: Post show events AU where Hvitserk goes off to travel, see the world, and find himself. He meets you along the way. 

Part of Sarah’s follower celebration @solinarimoon

Prompt: “There's a darkness upon you that's flooded in light. And in the fine print They tell you what's wrong and what's right” -  Head Full of Doubt/Road Full of Promise - The Avett Brothers ( I only used one lyric) 

Warnings: Angst party! Losing loved ones, dealing with Ivars death and his own past regrets, A battle scene via flashback. 

This wasn’t the first time you found him like this. Sitting by the lake and gazing at the water, a faraway look in those green eyes.

Hvitserk was a mystery to you for a while. Getting close to him took patience. You soon learned of his past and the heavy burdens he carried.

The man you loved was lost, even as he traveled the world. He was trying to make sense of things, to find meaning, to find forgiveness in himself for a life wasted.

He often spoke of his brothers, his mother Auslag, and his father Ragnar Lothbrok. Hvitserk was in the habit of comparing himself to all that, a habit that left him feeling like a failure. His addiction, losing Thora, holding his brother Ivar as he died; Hvitserk told you about all of it.

Driven by these things, he set out on an adventure, a journey to find purpose, and some peace. You met on the New Moon when the Viking traveled through your town. You were gathering herbs in the woods when your paths crossed.

Long before meeting him, you planned to leave for good on the next Full Moon. You were raised by a great warrior, you shared the same set of skills as your brothers. You knew how to fight, how to win, how to survive. Yet, you were more drawn to the life led by your grandmother.

Herbalist, mystic, healer, wise woman. You were always more like her than your parents. So it was no surprise when you made the decision to dedicate your energy to that life. To do it away from the place you called home. You longed to step out of the shadow of your father's name and the obligations that came with it.

Over the next 28 days, the Vikings found little ways to pass by your stand where you sold herbs and other enchanted items. He even purchased a few things from you, all the while remaining quiet, distant.

A week before your departure day, that finally changed. The Viking visited toward closing time and helped you back up. On the walk back to your home, he asked you about your life and told you his mother was involved with similar things. Seeing your stand and the smell of it reminded him of her.

This was the start of what blossomed into a quick friendship and then a romance. Though you both held romantic longings since the beginning, it didn't start right away.

You soon learned Hvitserk was afraid to let himself love because he'd lost or pushed away anyone who loved him. Hvitserk was fearful the same would happen with you, and he didn’t want to risk it.

When you revealed your plan to leave, Hvitserk asked to accompany you. It sealed the fate of your lives together. The Viking decided to take a leap, finding you at a time he felt so lost, so alone must have meant something. Even with his fear, he wasn't going to let you slip away.

Wishing to leave him undisturbed, you stand still and quiet as you observe him and think about all the moments that led to this one. When his eyes land on you, you offer a small smile and lower your basket of herbs and mushrooms to the ground.

A tender warmth washes over him as he gazes at you, “it's like the first time, seeing you like this,”

“Always with a basket in my arms, “ you smile and walk over to him. Joining Hvitserk, you sit close and relax into him as his arm comes around your shoulders, “always with soil in my nails.” You display your hands, still smiling.

Hvitserk hums and leans forward, placing a kiss on both hands, “I wouldn’t want you any other way.”

You rest your head against him with a relaxed sigh. As the sun sets, the sky transforms into a beautiful painting of violet, orange, and yellow hues. Hvitserk gently caresses your arm.

“Who captured your thoughts this time?” you ask softly.

Hvitserk is quiet for a moment. His eyes float back to the water.

“The last battle in Wessex.”

You can hear it in his voice, he drifts back into the land of nostalgia. The battle replays in his mind. Hvitserk can feel it in every cell in his body like he was still there.

The chaotic yet thrilling storm of battle, the sounds of metal, cries, and yells, blood; the catharsis of being on the battlefield like a true Viking with his brother, his old enemy, at his side.

Just as quickly, his memory transitions from the battle to Ivar's eyes as he holds him. To hear he or all people was afraid, Ivar, who was never afraid of anything. He wondered, was Ivar always afraid? Was that why he relied so heavily on his malice? To hide that internal fear and keep it secret?

Then he thinks of Ubbe, his old best friend, his favorite brother. Hvitserk never imagined they would be so distant, that they would be strangers to each other. Of all the heartbreaks he’s had in his life, this was one of the heaviest; it haunted him.

As Hvitserk deepens his trance of thought, you find yourself wandering off too. You think about a conversation you had early on as you rode back into town after showing him one of your favorite spots in the woods.

The night was quiet aside from the horse's steps on the ground and a gentle wind in the trees. You look over at him and see that look again. It's the kind of look that makes you wonder what was going on in his mind, what he was thinking.

Hvitserk feels your eyes burning into him, continuing to look ahead, he speaks. “Are you trying to figure me out?” A small grin follows his question.

You smile, turning your head to view him,  “There’s a darkness upon you that’s flooded in light.”

With a curious brow, he looks at you while keeping a steady pace on the horse. You get lost in his eyes again, something that happens to you often. You watch as your words settle into Hvitserk and stir up feelings and thoughts he likely won't express aloud.

Hvitserk offers a smile, a sweet innocent one and you can't help but wonder what he was like as a kid. You imagine a little Hvitserk running around and full of joy.

“It’s late, let’s get back.” His voice pulls you back to the present. You continue the rest of the way in silence.

Clearing his throat, Hvitserk shifts his focus to you, his eyes finding your waiting and compassionate gaze.

“The Runes, and the dream you had, I think I know what it means now.”

You shift your position to get a fuller view of his face. You had your suspicions about what those dreams meant, but you didn't want to impose your ideas on him. You trusted he would come to the answer himself. It seems he has.

You take one of his hands in yours and hold it.

“My home is you,” the emotion in Hvitserks eyes almost moves you to tears, “we’ve seen so much, and we are travelers. Though, I think I need to find Ubbe.”

You don’t realize you’ve been holding your breath until the words leave his lips. You exhale and smile tenderly, “and I will help you.”

Using your gifts to help Hvitserk find his brother wasn't even a question. You would do anything you could to help him. You knew from your Runes that despite his anger, his pain, Ubbe missed Hvitserk too and the longing for each other was mutual. You knew, one big missing piece for Hvitserk was Ubbe.

…

It took time, but every step was worth it. Every night you barely had enough food, every storm you weathered, every night you were unsure you would find this place. Every single step of it paid off as you stepped foot on the abundant land.

It was easy to feel overstimulated. Birds you've never seen before, plant life, animals. Even in your exhausted and hungry state, you feel pure love and appreciation for seeing this with your own eyes. It was like nothing you have ever imagined.

Your joy is only increased each time you look at Hvitserk. His eyes are wide with wonder as you push your bodies and hike into the woods. Though, behind his excitement, you can sense fear, worry.

You knew he was afraid Ubbe wouldn't be here, or worse, would reject him, turn him away. You did all you could to soothe Hvitserk, but in your own way, you shared his fears.

You wished for a happy outcome and wanted more than anything for the brothers to reconcile.

…

Stopping near a stream, you both sit and scoop water into your mouths. After drinking as much as you can without getting sick, Hvitserk flicks water at your face.

A wide playful grin lights up his tired expression. You retaliate, and a water fight soon follows. Your moment of joy is short-lived when an alarm goes off in your gut. Before you can look back, you see Hvitserks pale face ashen even more as his jaw drops.

Hvitserk stands slowly and faces the group of people surrounding you. Doing the same, you stay close to him and see a vulnerable recognition in his eyes.

Following Hvitserk's gaze, you focus on the man standing slightly ahead of the group. The thing that stands out about him the most is his eyes, the most intense blue eyes you have ever seen. At first glance, they seem cold, but it doesn't take long to feel the storm behind them.

This is him. This is Ubbe.

His stance is firm, confident, and if need be, ready to strike. Your gaze bounces from Hviterk to his brother. You notice a slight slouch in Hvitserks shoulders. He drops his gaze under the intense stare of Ubbe.

Remaining silent, Ubbe raises his chin, his eyes briefly land on you before returning to his brother. You swallow and reach out until you feel Hvitserks hand and lace your fingers in his. Hvitserk holds your hand tight, you move closer.

A look of disgust fills Ubbes expression as he turns his back to you both and heads to the woods.

Hvitserk takes a step forward, his voice cracking as he speaks, “ I’m sorry.”

Ubbe stops walking, his back still toward you. Your eyes move to the blonde woman with large eyes as she steps away from the group and joins Ubbe. It seems she's trying to calm him or talk to him. She places a hand softly on his forearm as she whispers.

You see compassion in her eyes, a warmth. They are too far away, you can't hear their words. But it seems her plea has little impact, at least at that moment. She releases her hold on him, Ubbe walks away.

Three months later

It was a perfect day in paradise. The sun felt good on your skin, and a cooling breeze danced in the air. You grab two ends of the now-finished blanket as Torvi grabs the other two ends. Continuing your conversation, you lay it out on the ground to give it a good look over.

Laughter erupts from the other side of the room. You both look ahead to see Ubbe and Hvitserk sharing a moment. You can’t help but smile. That darkness that followed Hvitserk seemed lifted by this place, by forgiveness from his brother Ubbe.

It wasn’t easy to get, but Hvitserk stayed dedicated. You knew the fact that Ubbe didn’t turn you away or kill his brother meant the part of him wanting his brother back was stronger than the part who wanted to keep him out. When both brothers finally had it out and mended their wounds, it made every painful step along the way worth it.

Now, months later, it was like you were always meant to be here, and the wanderlust in both of you calms as you settle into your new home.

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