#ivar lothbrok blurb

[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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[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.

[justanoasisimagines]

Heroes versus Villians October Event

Hey lovelies, throughout the month of October, I'll be posting twice a day for a hero and a Villian. Below is the list of what's going to be posted.

1st October - Neville Longbottom (Blurb) & Aemond Targaryen (Blurb) 2nd October - Podrick Payne (Blurb) & Victor Zsasz (Gotham) 3rd October - Elijah Mikealson (Drabble) & Charles Vane (Headcanon) 4th October - Steve Rogers (Love Letter) & Clay Morrow (Love Letter) 5th October - Neal "Baelfire" Cassidy (Headcanon) & Phillip Graves (Headcanon) 6th October - Alex Keller (Love Letter) & Rollo (Blurb) 7th October - Harwin Strong (Headcanon) & Ramsay Bolton (Drabble) 8th October - Bruce Wayne (Drabble) & Kraven the Hunter (Headcanon) 9th October - Aethelred (Drabble) & Tom Riddle (Blurb) 10h October - Captain James Flint (Blurb) & Niklaus Mikealson (Headcanon) 11th October - Daryl Dixon (Blurb) & Negan (Headcanon) 12th October - Viktor Krum (Blurb) & George "Digger" Harkness (Drabble) 13th October - Captain John Price (Headcanon) & Cormac McLaggen (Drabble) 14th October - David Hale (Drabble) & Gaston (Drabble) 15th October - Clint Barton (Headcanon) & Aegon II Targaryen (Drabble) 16th Drabble - Gwayne Hightower (Blurb) & Miguel Galindo (Love Letter) 17th October - Adrian Chase (Blurb) & The Joker *Heath Ledger" (Love Letter) 18th October - The Beast (Headcanon) & Vladimir Makarov (Headcanon) 19th October - Alden (Love Letter) & Ceasar Martinez (Drabble) 20th October - Stefan Salvatore (Drabble) & John Walker (Headcanon) 21st October - Johnny "Coco" Cruz (Blurb) & Ivar the Boneless (Blurb) 22nd October - August Wayne Booth (Love Letter) & Troy Otto (Blurb) 23rd October - Ragnar Lothbrok (Blurb) & Damon Salvatore (Headcanon) 24th October - Theon Greyjoy (Love Letter) & Rumplestiltskin (Love Letter) 25th October - Bucky Barnes (Headcanon) & Criston Cole (Drabble) 26th October - Rick Flag (Love Letter) & Koing (Love Letter) 27th October - Simon "Ghost" Riley (Love Letter) & Killian Jones (Drabble) 28th October - Dewey Riley (Headcanon) & Billy Loomis (Blurb) 29th October - John Dorie (Drabble) & Viserys Targaryen (Drabble) 30th October - Matthias Helvar (Love Letter) & Baron Helmut Zemo (Blurb) 31st October - Robert "Bob" Floyd (Blurb) & Stu Macher (Headcanon)

[spacemilkies]

Thirsty Thursday will still be going, but I just needed to roll through this first. Not a request, just the pain in my side that is Ivar. I just wanted an excuse to play with darker themes. This is not Far Cry, but Vikings writing. 

When you fall in love with him, it’s decidedly too late. It was as if fate decided to subject you to eternity of misgivings for your stupidity. Or perhaps it was naivety. How despite the bruises molded by fingertips never seemed to leave your skin, always refreshed before they could properly fade. Everyday the window of opportunity to escape closed a little more until it was completely shut to your access- not that you ever glanced its way.

So when you finally accept that your turmoil is based on a sick rendition of stockholm syndrome, it dawns on you like the pearly gates of a sealed prison. The term ‘broken’ is the mantra he carried like a tattoo his entire life. He is the embodiment of the word, even know as he finds his strength- broken, soulless is the monster within.

His teeth claw into your spirit, fingertips manipulating the beat of your heart until it aligns with him. It’s really something when you can’t even trust the thrumming organ keeping you alive, or maybe your acceptance is its last gift of promise to you before the end.

Tightening the shade above your eyes, you resist the urge to shudder as the bed shifts beside you. He’s sensitive to that, cognitive of your every thought, motive and action. Even subconscious avoidance is a wall of defense soon to be crumbled.

He’s at the top now, a reigning success despite his past. The epitome of the Seerer’s vision brought to life- hell tethered to the world of the living. There is no one left to stand in his way. Not that it mattered, he’s already filled your head with moss and threatened your veins with poison. Why would anyone sacrifice themselves for someone who could never truly be saved? Why subject themselves with torture when he already satisfied with you.

“ If you’re simply going to lie there the least you could do is make yourself useful in one aspect of your life,” His articulation is a dichotomy of impatience and cruelty. Yet you find humor in the ironic testament of the life he once lived. A twitch of laughter splits your lips, letting the sound wafts into the room. It’s toneless but recognizable for what it is.

The bed shifts further and you can feel the heat of him permeating the air around you. For now the taste of it is bemused, tinged with irritation, but curious nonetheless. Not that you analyzed the breakdown of your slip up.

It’s uncertain if it is inquisitiveness or obedience that invites you to open your eyes, but you bite down on the urge until blood bubbles in retaliation. You know what he looks like, how he feels, the way he tastes. Yet he remains as indescribable as those haunting blue eyes that stare down the world. He thrives for acceptance, yet scraps the hides of his enemies in vengeance. He’s inconsolable, unstable, every space between his heart beats like seconds of a clock until detonation.

The slow trickle leaking at your apex is dismissible to your conscious, a simple adaptive reaction you’ve gained over the years as another layer of protection. It hums to the tune of him slotting himself between your thighs, parting them in forced invitation.

“Tell me pet, what is it that you find so funny that prompts laughter from those sweet lips?” A mouth stained with honey, he claims. Viscous and tantalizing, a treat from the gods- you were their sacrifice after all.

His lips are at your throat, slicing along the column of your throat with the same cold steelness of his blade. It’s news to you how painful it can be to resist the instinct to swallow around nothing. But you don’t want to attract the beast with a viable target with his weapons already so close. The timer is ticking firmer, mimicking the sound of your own heartbeat now- a pity given how quickly it speeds up the clock.

“Speak when your king requests it if you, wife.”

You wonder how much pain is involved with death, surely you’ve come close now?

The sound of your voice is unrecognizable, the threads of sleep more familiar than the crack of it. “Just you … my love. Should a king not bring happiness and contentment to his subjects?”

He’s humming, thinking, and calculating, tongue darting out to wet thick lips. A jumbled mess of war tools thrown haphazardly in the toy box of his mind. So much time as a child, just sitting there and festering on the future.

Yet as you defy the sight of him so much time has passed and you’re still alive. How long will it be until you’re breathless? Either withered from exertion or the force of his hand knocking you back. Perhaps both.

Maybe he’s waiting on a more appealing answer, you’re reminded by the snoozed warning. The reason, your response, his question; they’re all useless, just a paperweight in time to provoke space. Your lips are pressing hard against the shape of his mouth, chased by muscle memory rather than sight. He grunts in surprise despite seeing it coming. You’d forgotten again about the essence between your legs until his knee adjusts against it, spreading the tackiness of it against your inner thigh.

“I know what you’re doing.”

As always. More receptive to your own actions than yourself. The edge of his voice is less noticeable, drowned out by slide against his hard body. His entire integrity is stable, an ironic perception given the hitch in his step when he walks.

Hands slide up the length of your arms to curve at the slope of your shoulders. A groan his bleeds into his mouth as his fingers curl in, nails biting moon crescents into the skin beneath them. Is it shameful to prefer it over the phantom grip around your throat?

“Do you crave the darkness now?” His words whisper against your eyelids, and you find reprieve in the way his hands seek out a new target. Their journey is short, reacting in tandem with his thigh spreading yours further apart as he spears your heat with two digits. The move is with efficiency rather than exploration, testing the compliance of your inner walls before jerking free. It feels rudimentary, like checking off a item on a list before moving on to the next. 

His hands are at your thighs now, gripping them firmly as he rocks forward. Your whimper is lost to his own laughter as the head of his cock glides along your slit. It’s as if he’s waiting, following the cycle of air in your lungs for the right moment to take you, the force of his motive choking you mid exhale.

You can hear his lips curl back, feel his teeth glinting down with a premise of promise- a threat. “Such a pretty, pliant little wife they call you,” he recalls as he sheathes himself to the hilt. “Complimentary words for a whore.”

His cadence draws you back and forth against the sheets, creating friction despite the softness. He’s rough but not unhinged as you’ve dealt with in the past.

“I should show them the marks on your knees. Burned raw from way you crawl to me. Bruised from the weight of your body as you feast on my cock.”

You’re quiet no longer, stifling a stream of dry sobs as hips slap against your own. The sound of it is salacious, dirtied by his words as he carves another layer from your soul. It’s the sharp snap of him meeting you that brings you pain, surely reddened past the tint of the setting sun. His body is taut, stretched despite unrelenting muscle as he dominates what is his.

“You’re just a princess, not worthy enough to be their queen,” he purrs. Your voice is shattered into too many fragments for speech not that you have anything in the line up.

You drip around him as he fills you, unbothered by the question of whether it’s post-orgasm or pre-lubrication, the hypersensitivity is untelling as he pulls free. It rolls down the curve of your body in thick droplets, the stain of it sure to irritate you further into the night.

Not once, not even as he rolls off of you do you open your eyes. It’s a pointless notion at this point when he’s already invaded all your senses until there there is nothing but him.

His voice tumbled out from his side of the bed, lips tilted with humor. “It’s a shame that my mother wasn’t there to call you out on your pathetic nature. Or perhaps this was her prophecy from the beginning. The Boneless and the Worthless.”

[starboyreggie]

A Princess and A Pagan

A Princess and a Pagan: The Beginning of the Betrayal

Part Two // Part Three

Word Count: 1708

Pairing: Hvitserk x Adelaide (OC)

Summary: The Northmen have entered East Anglia, and the king of West Anglia has taken precautions to make sure they will not harm his kingdom. However, Ragnar has not only asked for richest, but also for the young Princess’s hand in marriage.

Warnings: Viking slander

Requested: nope, I just wanted to write for my man

Masterlist

// I do not own any characters or themes except for Adelaide and her family. This work of fiction is heavily based on History’s Vikings. However, in this piece, the sons of Ragnar are older much earlier and all travel with him to Europe. //

It was a warm spring day with the sun shining down from the sky on the kingdom of West Anglia. The birds were singing outside the window their sweet morning song. Adelaide stretched her arms to her sides and she hummed to herself when she felt the sun’s warm rays on her face. Looking out the opening, she smiled to herself thinking about the day’s activities.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock filled her room. Adelaide called for her visitor to enter, knowing it was her servant, Milla. Her brown hair was pulled into a high bun as it usually was, and she carried a dress in her arms.

“Good morning, Milla.” Adelaide murmured as her voice was rough from her long night's sleep. Milla was one of younger servants her father had. She was only 29 years old, and she started working for the King of West Anglia when she was 14 years old.

“Good morning to you too, Princess Adelaide. How was your rest?” Milla inquired. She placed the dress at the foot of Adelaide’s bed and watched as she stepped out of the bed.

“It was interrupted many times during the night by soldiers running down the hall,” Adelaide’s eyebrows scrunched together as she approached her servant, “Do you know anything about that?”

Adelaide sat down at her mirror and watched as Milla approached her. Milla sighed as she reached for the hairbrush on the table, “The Northmen are in East Anglia and might be heading west. There is to be no worry though because your father has started to prepare.”

Adelaide couldn’t help but worry. What would happen if those pagans came to her home? She had complete faith in her God and father that she would be protected. She had heard of some of the terrors that followed these Northmen. They were giant men with even bigger weapons who were rumored to eat Christian children for dinner after they had destroyed villages and bathe in Saxon blood.

She shuddered at the thought of those pigs being in her kingdom. Milla saw the distress on her princess’s features and quickly finished brushing her hair. She ushered Adelaide out of the chair and over to the foot of the bed, “Let’s forget about that for now and get you dressed for the day.”

Adelaide slipped out of the silk slip she had slept in. Goosebumps arose on her skin as the cold morning air hit her skin. She stepped into the red dress as Milla walked around her to tie the back. Adelaide looked in the floor length mirror and took in her appearance. The dress was a deep red color with a high collar and red lace sleeves. The material was tight until it reached her waist where it became loose and flowy.

Once Milla had completely tied the back of the dress, she walked back in front of Adelaide. She ran her hands down her sides, smoothing the dress down. Milla grabbed some of Adelaide’s naturally wavy hair and placed it in front, “You are so beautiful, my Princess.”

“Thank you, Milla,” Adelaide warmly smiled, “Did my father give you any specific instructions for me?”

Milla placed her hand on the small of Adelaide’s back as she guided her to the door, “Just for you to meet him for breakfast as soon as you awoke.”

Adelaide nodded her head and dismissed Milla when they reached her chamber’s door. On the way to the dining room, she noticed a surplus of guards posted around the castle. She brushed it off and blamed the Northmen’s presence in East Anglia for the increase of soldiers.

She reached the dining room and her father, mother, and older brother was already there. The room got eerily quiet as she approached the table. “Good morning, father,” Adelaide leaned down over her father’s shoulder and gave him a kiss on his cheek as she greeted him.

King Coel smiled at his little girl as she took her seat, “I hoped you slept well, sweetheart.”

“I did, father,” Adelaide took a sip from her cup before continuing, “Why were the guards so restless last night?” No one answered her as her mother looked at her with a sad look.

“What? Is there something wrong? I know about the pagans in East Anglia.” Adelaide started to panic as her brother just stared at their father, waiting for him to speak.

“Princess,” her father began before he was interrupted by the dining room’s door being slammed open. Everyone’s eyes snapped over to the noise. Adelaide was the last one to react as her back was to the door. She turned in her seat to see three giants standing and one on the floor in the doorway.

The one in the middle, who seemed to be the leader as he was the biggest, had a long braid of hair going down his back with the sides shaved and a thick beard that went down to the bottom of his neck. The other three men were smaller but still huge. To the left of the largest man, was what seemed to be the next oldest and he had the same shaven sides but the hair on top was much shorter; on the other side of the leader, was a man with blonde hair that was braided but nowhere as long as the other two. Next to the blonde was the man on the floor, and he had the shortest hair of all the men and it wasn’t braided.

The three men started to walk toward the table as the last dragged himself. The leader took the seat to the left of Adelaide’s father as he was at the head of the table. Her mother was to his right, her brother beside the queen, and Adelaide beside him. The second oldest took the seat next to the leader and the cripple next to him. The blonde sat to Adelaide right and she flinched as his eyes scanned her.

Adelaide scooted closer to her brother and looked to her father with confusion etched on her face. The king looked apologetic as he sighed and looked at the people that had just joined the table. Adelaide’s brother, Nikolas, took her hand under the table and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

King Coel cleared his throat, “Princess, I would like to introduce you to Ragnar, Ubbe, Ivar, and Hvitserk.” Her father pointed to each as he said their name. Adelaide smiled at each one as she made eye contact with them to show that she was friendly since she didn’t think they could speak her language, “I am Adelaide,” she enunciated, making sure to speak slowly and point to herself when she said her name. The men seemed to understand as they nodded in response.  

“Father, what are they doing here?” Adelaide said in a happy tone so not set off any alarms in the visitors’ heads.

“We are here because your father asked us to negotiate a deal,” Ragnar spoke to her. Adelaide’s smile dropped immediately as she was shocked to understand his words. She looked around to the younger men to see their reactions to her question. They were watching carefully but didn’t seem like they heard what she said specifically.

“My sons cannot understand you. I am the only one here that can speak your language.” Ragnar confirmed as Adelaide shook her head.

“Ragnar here has agreed not to raid nor kill any of our people in the kingdom,” the King had paused to let the good news settle in.

Adelaide smiled at Ragnar, “Thank you, and what have you asked of us in return?”

Your father rushed to answer, “We are to pay them a sum in gold and silver annually.” Adelaide nodded, the deal seems fair to her. There was no price for safety, but that appeared to be a reasonable deal. She wondered how much the pagans wanted because as just as it seemed, she knew it was too good to be true.

“Your father has also given us your hand in marriage,” Ragnar spoke, and Adelaide heard the venom drip from his words as an evil smirk appeared on his face. He was clearly looking for a reaction out of Adelaide and she couldn’t help but give him one.

The blood drained from the princess’s body, and her body ran cold. She was having a hard time breathing as her gaze turned to her father. He had a look of pity on his face directed toward her. The king didn’t say anything as he allowed Ragnar’s words to sink in.

Adelaide's mouth was slightly open as if she wanted to speak, but no words came out. She couldn’t wrap her mind around the fact that her father had sold her to these pagans. And for what? For the Northmen not to attack them? They hadn’t made any advances toward West Anglia, so there was no need for this deal. Her father had jumped the gun with this alliance. He hadn’t even tried to fight. The king was protecting the kingdom when it wasn’t in any danger yet.

Adelaide started to blink rapidly as her vision started to blur. She didn’t know if it was anger or betrayal that controlled her body at this point. Her mother had constantly reassured her that she would be able to approve her husband, that she would be happy and marry into love.

She looked at her mother and she refused to look at Adelaide. Adelaide looked around the table and the Northmen were all staring at her, drinking her reaction. She started to feel tears sting in her eyes, but she was determined to not let these pigs see her cry. Adelaide quickly blinked them away as she choked, “Who?”

“My eldest unwed son, Hvitserk,” He stated proudly as he nodded toward the blonde next to Adelaide. She slowly turned her head to face Hvitserk. He was already looking at her with a dark look in his eyes. Adelaide gulped a large lump that had formed in the back of her throat.

“I hope that this was worth it, father.” She spoke with hatred laced in her tone as she kept eye contact with Hvitserk.

A/N: ahhhh! This is my first piece as a multi-fandom blog, so it had to be my man Hvitserk. This will be a long fic and the other parts will be longer and may get smutter. Also, I decided to give the protagonist a name, Adelaide Coel. She is physically based on Mary of Scots from Reign but only physically. I hope yall enjoy this! I am really nervous about posting this, so leave me some feedback!

[xuxibelle]

400!!!! 🎉🎊🎈🎊🎈🎉

shockingly i reached 400 followers today, which might not seem like a lot, but to me it’s a ton. When I first signed up, I never expected to even reach 100 let alone 400.... I love you guys more than you know... even if I don’t talk to you everyday... I suck at keeping conversations going 😂

my inbox will be open all week so let’s celebrate!!!!! 🎉 🎈 🎊

send me your thoughts and/or requests for Alex Hoegh Andersen, Ivar Lothbrok, Harrison Osterfield, Tom Holland, The Holland Twins, Sebastian Stan, Bucky Barnes, Chase Collins, Chris Evans, Chris Hemsworth, Tom Hiddleston, Jason Momoa, Roman Reigns, Adam Cole, Finn Balor, Aleister Black, Seth Rollins, Drew McIntyre, 5SOS, Jordan Devlin, Taylor Kitsch, and if they’re not on my list, send it anyway and I’ll look them up lol I feel like I’m forgetting someone....

You can send in anything you like... for example:

blurbs

Headcannons

Imagines

Moodboards

FMK

kinkshame/kinksame

Ask me anything

Advice?

Would you rather?

Make me choose

Nothing is off limits

@nerdraging4point0 @summernykole @bringmethehorizonandpizza​ @sunshine112 @empressdreams @justasmisunderstoodasloki @bisexual-sk8r @devildisguiseasangel @fanficparker @hollandsosterfield @marvelownsmyentireass @aspiringwildfire @fucking5sos @harrystylescuredmydepression @twilightparker @steviesbell @bearsbeetsbarnes @hollandroos @starksparker @sincerelymlg @tomhollanders2013 @h-osterfield @justkeepdreaminganddreaming @sweetlysilent @avenirectioner @writing-reigns @writinglionqueen @wheres-mccall @uglypastels @wazzupmrstark @eurynome827​ @lisinfleur @honestsycrets @fortheloveofjbbarnes​ @ivaraddict​ @dangerousvikings @tephi101 @yanii-the-hippie @thejemersoninferno @cchellacat

[myscxllanxous]

Requested by: @tanovic54321

He hated small talk and fancy gatherings. He hated smiling at strangers and making an effort with small children. He hated having to act civil with boys that had irked him in the past and having to swallow his pride and own up to something he had done. He hated the sunrise and sunset. He hated how the stars glistened and caught his eye when he was trying to sleep. He hated the clouds and he hated the rain. He hated mud and worst of all, he hated the pain. He hated that he felt sorrow and hatred. He hated that he felt like a burden and that he should just leave. But most of all he hated the way everyone would call him names and tell him he wasn’t good enough. Not good enough to rule, and not good enough for her. 

 She loved small talk and fancy gatherings. She loved smiling at strangers and hanging out with small children. She loved talking to old friends and learning a lesson when she would have to own up to her mistakes. She loved the sunrise and sunset. She loved that the stars glistened and twinkled in the sky. She loved the clouds and loved the rain, especially when it meant dancing in the rain. She loved mud and tried not to feel pain. She loved that he cared enough to feel as though he was a burden, and that he should leave. Though she hated it when he would look at her and everything would change, that her very existence was everything he didn’t hate. 

 But now they know what they love and hate, they can mask the pain and forget the mistakes. Focus on the rain and learn the lessons the Gods are trying to teach. Be each other’s anchor and take the anger.

[brightlycoloredteacups]

About my Tagging

To be quite honest, I’m absolute SHIT at tagging. I won’t be going back and tagging EVERYTHING, but I will begin to start tagging my most recent shit. With that being said: Out with the old and in with the new. Like mostly everyone, I’m making a new Tag list. 

I don’t want anyone to panic. But I lost my tag list. (Oops?) Also, I’m not going to be focusing as much on some stories as I am others. Once again, I will be trying to post a fic update at least once a week. Without Further Ado, here are the series I’m going to focus on for this year.

Brynhilda’s Saga: Ivar x OFC. Brynhilda has been betrayed by those closest to her. She reaps a path of revenge for herself, and then joins Ivar and his Heathen Army. Note: This story DOES have violent images, but (I feel anyway) it’s tame for Vikings. 

A Tony Stark Fic: Tony x OCF. As of yet unnamed: Martina Rogers is just trying to get by in New York City, but one man keeps interrupting her. Tony realizes there’s more to Ms. Martina than meets they eye.

A Season for Revenge: When Bucky Barnes begins to remember what was done to him, and who done it, he sets up a plot for revenge. But when you’re a wanted man hunting down those that belong to a shadow organization, you need some help. A story I developed for @charliexowrite, I’ve finally come up with a cohesive plot. So this should flow semi-smoothly.

The Black Witch: Thank @readsalot73 for this one. You’ve all convinced me to flesh this out. Ivar x OFC. Ivar is asked to kill Kolgrimma, a harmless witch. She claims to have seen his future, and in it, he can deny her nothing. He’s apt to agree with her, considering with just one meeting, he’s already in love with her.

Brynhilda and The Murder Couple: developed in conjunction with @ivartheboneme, focuses more on Brynhilda and Eliza’s relationship as of right now. Make no mistake, I have scenes for Ylva and Ivar as well. Brynhilda has been treated like little more than attack dog all her life. Wrestling with feeling of unworthiness, and a strong desire to have a family of her own, she navigates her way awkwardly through all the first she should’ve had. Sometimes angsty, mostly funny. 

Things I’ll never write: If you’ve noticed, I’ve been putting out moodbaords, followed by little blurbs for stories. These are ideas that have been floating around in my head for AGES. And things I’ll probably never write. Just to get it out of my system. I have a TON of these lined up, ranging from Vikings to Star Wars to Marvel. 

Others: Play Along, The Lothbrok Vampires, and Moments are others I’m going to focus on, just not as much. These are the things I’ll try to update at least once a month, again, absolutely NO promises. 

I do my tags old school, which means pen and paper. So send me an ask and let me know what you want to be tagged in. 

[jadelynlace]

Sneaking Away⎮Ink Drinker Modern Vikings AU NSFW Blurb [Ivar x F!Reader]

☞ find more Ink Drinker here

Author’s Note: We’re back with another small blurb about being on vacation with the Lothbrok boys, but unable to have Ivar the way that you want. The divider is by @firefly-graphics​

Content Warning(s): This is just pure smut, I swear. Lots of fucking, oral (both male and female receiving), spanking, sex against a wall...

Word Count: 2300 words

The sounds of conversation finally die down in the adjacent room, as you curl the covers back to your chin and try to relish in the silence. But the bed is cold and you’re tired of pretending you’re lonely around the one person who makes you feel alive. A creak in the door stills you and you stir, watching the figure walk through the darkness before the sheets are back around you.

“Ivar?” You whisper.

“What are you still doing up? It’s almost three in the morning,” He rasps back.

“I am going to ask you the same question,” You challenge.

“Tucking you in,” Ivar answers back, words that are firm, as if it’s not out of the ordinary, and as if you know. “Everyone else is passed out,” He adds before you feel his lips on your hairline. “Miss you, baby,”

“Miss you too,” You peep and then he’s gone.

*

When you swing the door back Ivar’s there, eyes boring through your bare skin and you don’t even think before you pull him towards you. A towering man stumbling with all limbs and no grace before you latch on to him, crashing your mouth to his. A sinful moan slithers from where it was trapped in Ivar’s chest, his hands finding your hair before his tongue slips to cross yours as a bridge. 

When your spine hits the dusted beige wall, Ivar’s there to pin you against it, your hands fumbling clumsily as you try to unlock his belt. Swatting your hands away, Ivar’s fingers take up the journey while he instead feels your hands tangle into his hair.

“I think it’s only fair that because it’s been five days, we have sex five times,” Ivar mumbles, trying to pull his mouth away to speak but your lips follow him.

“Just fuck me,” You all but snap back and the tone drips with a sense of challenge. Ivar’s belt clatters against the floor and you’re pushed further, eyes watching his as his body pins you back against the plain. 

“Watch your tone,” Ivar hums as the tip of his nose trails your cheek. “I know it’s the default, but they’re not here right now,” He whispers breath fanning against your ear, and you nod. Bunching the fabric of his shirt you feel his knee nudge between yours, dropping your thighs to spread out of memory before his eyes trail back between your bodies. 

The warmth of his hands wisps against the back of your thighs and you’re lifted, moaning before he’s offered you any real pleasure as you witness the strength this man possesses when he needs it. With his forehead pressed against yours, his cock sinks slowly between the two of you, pushing you back towards the wall as your hips meet. Your eyes flutter suddenly, the spread of your walls ringing delicious pleasure through your whole spine before you moan softly.

“That’s a better tone,” Ivar rasps, hands on your thighs and you feel the barest thrust, the head of his cock brushing your sweet spot despite the man’s hardly evident movements. Tipping your head back, azure eyes study your features contouring, lazy rolls of his own hips as your breathing picks up. Your mind falling blank, numbing you completely and Ivar can feel your nails in his shoulder.

“Just like that,” You whisper as Ivar’s lips seal that promise to your tongue. 

“Look at me,” Ivar rasps and you obey, lids parting as you catch the inky blackness of his pupils spreading, the obscene noises of your cunt meeting your ears and you can only nod in response. 

Blue eyes flick down to your lips, trailing over the blush that reddens your cheeks as sweat collects between where his skin laps yours. A rumble through his biceps alludes you to how close he’s come, your release pinning you against him and you can’t find the words to tell him. Trapped on your lips and Ivar watches your mouth drop suddenly, eyes closing as he watches you. Without even having to tell him your plea, his hips snap suddenly, pushing you over the ledge as he fucks you, the pressure from his pelvis rubbing your sensitive spot and he only groans when he feels the grip on his length fall even tighter.

“Where?” Ivar says quickly and you shudder for a moment, remembering in the rush of needing to feel him, you neglect the safety net he’s always quick to grab. “Baby—where?”

“Mouth,” You peep, and Ivar stills, fighting off his end when his hands slowly release you. Your limbs ooze like jelly, falling to your knees much more easily with a bounce in his cock when he’s free. 

You flick your eyes up to him before your tongue trails, tasting yourself on his shaft with the salt from the pre-cum, and Ivar’s hands are quick to hit the wall. A thud through your ears as your lips suckle his tip, his head tipping forwards as chestnut locks spill around his face.

Wrapping your hand around his base, pulling Ivar towards you, stroking him in a faster manner than he was fucking you, and nearly tugging his orgasm free, you hear him groan, your name hot on his tongue and his words falter, mother tongue coming out as his brain short circuits. You only offer him a hum, sending vibrations around his cock and you feel him buck suddenly, left hand dropping from the wall to push your head against him. Your throat convulses, trying in warning of the overwhelming sensation before Ivar’s fingers tangle into your hair. After another groan, suddenly his hand yanks you back, giving you relief. Ivar’s eyes catch yours when you peek up at him, keeping him locked in your sights before you slip him onto your tongue. His hand is there again, holding you still and your nails sink into his thighs as you feel them rumble, sloppy flicks of his middle with his tip poking the back of your throat before he’s slipping back, grabbing his cock as your tongue flattens. And he doesn’t even have to offer himself any help, only squeezing his shaft as the ropes glide onto your tongue, his taste dripping down into the back of your throat.

Ivar’s panting fills the room as you shift, standing slowly and watching the man before you melt at the aftershocks of his orgasm. Your hands roam his chest, caressing his neck and his cheeks before you push through your toes to find his lips. Ivar’s hands drop, tightening around your back with a lazy battle through your tongues, tasting his own spunk and he hums into your mouth. Dancing your nails down his torso, you pull the shirt slowly, helping him peel it off of himself before his mouth is back against yours. Your eyes catch sight of the ink, the bruise on his abdomen from the drunken hit with the eight ball he was gifted the prior night from Ubbe. And their laughter rings in your head as you recall only shaking yours, knowing that these four men are no better than an entire class of preschoolers.

Stepping out of his pants, you pull back from Ivar, lacing your fingers with his as you walk him towards the bed, his eyes trailing your naked back and his hand can’t resist its trek to spanking your ass. Your feet stop short and Ivar watches your skin as you wait for him to repeat the sensation. A giggle passes through your lips as he does, as you climb onto all fours on the bed and he’s only there to pull you back. Ivar’s snicker meets yours as his palms catch your chest, one dropping to stroke through your folds and your head drops against the obnoxious floral bedding. The moan that rings from Ivar’s chest when he feels how wet you still are makes your walls clench freely, his own prick already back to hardening.

“Tell me you brought condoms,” Ivar says from behind you, lips by your ear before they peck your shoulder, moving slowly across your back before they dip down to follow your spine. “Baby…” Ivar hums again when you negate to answer as his lips stop on your tail bone and you nod. Even though he’s not paying attention to your head as his hands pull your thighs apart, his tongue tracing your slit from behind before another sweet moan dances musically through his ears. 

Nipping across your backside, Ivar trails his tongue to enter you, sounds ricocheting as he laps at you. Digging your fingers into the bedding, words fail you and you’re moaning instead, trying to wiggle from the bliss with the same effort you’re using to rock against his face.

“In my bag,” You finally manage to say. Ivar’s tongue slows its journey, humming behind you as his hands slide your curves once more. 

You feel his warmth leave you suddenly as he moves, pulling your bag off of the floor in search of the rubber. Another smack to your backside calls you to the present as you hear the foil open, Ivar alternating his hands between rolling it onto his shaft, and snapping his palm against your ass. Jutting you up the bed and your ass is starting to ache, and he can tell as you shift your hips while he smirks to himself before toying the tip of his cock through your folds. 

Another moan drips from your lips, waiting for the first pierce of his length to part you, and you dig your fingers into the bedding. Instead, Ivar slowly pushes his hips, pressing his cock at an agonizing pace and you feel every inch of his manhood as it sinks into you. A hearty moan climbs from his chest, his torso coming to cover your backside, and Ivar thrusts slowly. Moving his hand to find yours as the giant paws cover you, hardly evident movements of him fucking you still making you whimper. 

“Gods you feel amazing,” Ivar’s voice rasps from around you, his cheek laying against the curve of your skull.

“Ivar…” You whine as he moves. “You’re so deep,” You say and it only makes Ivar’s hips stutter, rocking you and the headboard knocks back from the wall. The bed calls your body closer, knees locking, but Ivar moves quickly, snapping into your heat, and a scream of his name tears through your lips. 

“Give it to me,” Ivar grunts, his arm moving to grip around your waist, holding you up as his hips do not cease. Moaning his name, you feel the wave dance from your toes and the knot in your stomach starts to coil rapidly. Spreading through your skin as Ivar moans from above you and you feel his opposite hand melt with yours, squeezing the sheets before the bliss finally grabs you. Juices leech from within you as Ivar’s hips snap, suddenly stopping right alongside you, that arm pulling you in his favor as he empties into the condom. 

You don’t have the mercy to hold him up and you drop, bringing him with you and Ivar only groans in contentment when he lays over you. Inhaling your sent, Ivar slowly moves his arms, curling his biceps closer to you and you relish in the weight he pins you down with. The blanket of safety and you could sleep the rest of the day away in such a state.

“Where did you tell them you went?” Your voice comes.

“Where do you think, baby?”

“Art shop?” And you feel Ivar nod.

“But the one that’s a forty-five-minute drive from the cabin,” Ivar tells you. “What did you say?”

“I told Hvitserk I was sick of him and I wanted the afternoon to myself,” You answer. “Almost felt like kicking a puppy,” And Ivar laughs at that. “Don’t move yet,” You then peep when Ivar shifts, pushing himself up through his arms before his lips meet your shoulder again.

“Let me take the condom off,” He rasps, a chill from the air coming to crawl onto your skin and you slowly start to move. Your eyes catch sight of the man stepping back into his boxers before his eyes meet yours. You can’t stop the smile that spreads through your lips before your own bottoms are in your grasp and when you reach for your bag, Ivar makes an estranged noise of disapproval. “The bed,” He says, pointing to the covers. 

You smirk, climbing into the sheets and Ivar’s there in an instant, pulling you against him as your cheek rests on his chest. When his arms encompass you, you reach up to trail your knuckles against the scruff of his sideburns and you watch another smile tug at his lips.

“Just let me hold you for half an hour,” Ivar’s voice comes. You turn in response to his words, rolling onto your side and Ivar follows suit, latching his arms around you before he feels you take his hand between yours, kissing the knuckles and Ivar settles with you.

“I’m calling in sick on Monday,” You tell him. “I think you’re going to be sick, too,” You add, hearing his laugh tangle through your hair. 

“Does your throat hurt?” Ivar teases and you giggle, feeling him pull you closer even though there’s no more room.

“It’s a little tender,” 

“How much do I owe you for the hotel room?” Ivar asks.

“A few more orgasms,”

“I’m serious, let me at least pay for half of it,” Ivar rasps.

“You can take me out to dinner,” You hum, walking your fingertips up his forearm while Ivar’s lips crease into a smile.

“Yes, yes I can,” He hums. “But you do realize you’re still getting orgasms, too, right?”

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[starboyreggie]

A Princess and a Pagan

A Princess and a Pagan: An Audience

Part One / Part Two

Word Count: 3553 (omg wow sorry)

Pairing: Hvitserk x Adelaide (OC)

Summary: Putting her doubts behind her, Adelaide gets ready for her wedding day. Hvitserk doesn’t know what happens the night of a Christian wedding but soon finds out as he is thrown into it.

Warnings: cuteness, wedding things, public sex (?), sex in front of an audience but they can’t really see, smut, nsfw, fingering (female receiving), penetration (female receiving)

Masterlist

Today was the big day. The day that the Coels and Lothbroks will be joined in holy matrimony under God. Ragnar had agreed to have the marriage the Saxon way if Adelaide agreed to travel back to Kattegat three days after the ceremony. King Coel had decided on Adelaide’s behalf, elated that the service would be done their way.

Adelaide flipped on her side as Milla jerked the curtains open and the sun’s bright rays invaded the room. Adelaide had gotten very little sleep the night before as her nerves would not allow her a moment of peace. Her thoughts never let her mind turn off as a rush of all the possible outcomes ran through her head.

Adelaide stretched her arms to the side and softly moaned as her bones cracked after being so still for so long. She smiled at Milla as she strode over to Adelaide’s bed, “Good morning, my princess. Today is a significant day.”

Adelaide scrunched her eyebrows together, “What do you mean, Milla? Oh! Has the hunting party returned with an assortment of meat for us to feast on?”

Milla raised her eyebrows toward Adelaide as she pulled the blankets off the bed, “Oh yes, my princess! King Coel has asked you down for your help in preparing the animals also!” Milla laughed.

Adelaide mocked throwing up before giggling herself, “Oh, Milla. I am going to miss you so. Can you please tell me the wedding has been canceled and I am now free to live here with you for the rest of my days?”

“Sweet Princess Adelaide, that is no way to talk on the big day! Now your father has given me strict instructions to keep you in this room so that your groom will not see you before it is time. I brought you some breakfast, and once you are finished, we must get started!” Milla kissed Adelaide on the forehead, “I will gather up the rest of the girls, and we will be back in thirty minutes. Eat up, you shouldn’t get married on an empty stomach.” Milla walked out of Adelaide’s chambers with the prior day’s clothes.

Adelaide walked over to the small table that held her breakfast. An assortment of cheeses and meats littered the silver plater. Before she could reach for a piece of food, the door opened slightly, and a body slipped in.

“Hvitserk! What are you doing in here! You are not to see me until the ceremony. My father will be furious if he catches you!” Adelaide yelled at Hvitserk as she turned from him and covered her face with her hands.

“My beautiful bride, I could not wait to see you. I wanted to say something before we are joined under the gods,” Hvitserk turned Adelaide’s face toward his and grabbed her soft hands in his rough ones before continuing, “Adelaide Coel, I understand that we barely know each other, but I am very excited for our life together. I want to get to know you and for your belly to swell with our beautiful children. I know that neither of us had a say in this, but I would never wish for any of my brothers to take my place nor would I wish anyone take yours.”

Hvitserk leaned forward and connected their lips. It was a soft kiss, and it only lasted for a second before Hvitserk pulled back, “I must go now before your father has my head on a stick. I will see you again in a couple of hours when you will be officially mine.”

Before Adelaide could speak a word, Hvitserk had slipped back through the door as quickly as he came in. She brought her hand up to her lips and let her fingers ghost over where he had just been. She wondered if anyone had informed him on what happens on the night of the wedding.

She shook her head to clear her mind. Someone obviously told him and informed him of other details of how the ceremony would go. Adelaide reached for a piece of cheese and bit her lip. Maybe tonight wouldn’t be as bad as she thought.

Before long Milla returned with several other servants. They guided Adelaide over to her vanity where they ran her brush through her tangled hair. The girls were humming as they worked. Once they had finished brushing her hair, they started to style it. They pulled the top half of her hair into a ponytail and braided the hair that was sectioned off. The bottom half was left to their perfect waves. Adelaide wanted to keep her hair simple.

It was the dress next. Milla had laid it out on the end of Adelaide’s bed, and as she walked toward her bed, she was left speechless. The dress had was a white lace piece that had sheer lace sleeves that connected to the chest and back until the solid white fabric underneath shown through. The dress had a beaded belt that had a floral pattern.

The servants began to untie Adelaide’s nightgown as she took in her wedding dress. Milla watched in awe from the side of the bed, “You will be the most beautiful bride, my princess.”

A single tear dropped from Adelaide’s cheek as she heard Milla’s words, “Thank you, Milla. I love you very much, I hope you know that.” The nightgown fell to the ground, and Milla walked over to help the Princess with her dress. Milla picked up the fabric gently and allowed Adelaide to step underneath for the dress to slip over her body.

Once Adelaide had got her arms through the long sleeves that covered most of her hands, Milla guided her over to her floor length mirror. Adelaide took in her appearance as Milla smoothed her hands on her white dress. “What did I tell you, Princess? The most beautiful bride that there was ever. Oh, wait, one final piece.”

Milla walked over to a box that had been left near the door. She opened the wooden container and pulled out a diamond covered crown. Milla walked back over, and Adelaide slightly bent down to help Milla place the piece of jewelry on her head. The crown glittered as the sun shone through the window. Adelaide took her appearance in and for the first time in her life, she felt like a queen.

“My beautiful daughter, how grown up you look.” Adelaide’s mother entered the room and headed straight for her daughter.

“So how do I look, mother?” Adelaide looked back in the mirror, and her mother joined her as she stood behind Adelaide running her hands down Adelaide’s arms.

“Like a true bride. I have waited for this day for so long, I cannot believe that it is already here.” The queen quickly wiped her eyes to try and hide her tears.

“Mother, if you start crying then I will sure as well,” Adelaide turned in her mother’s arms and brought her in for a hug, “I love you, and I will miss you so.”

“Hush about that now Adelaide, it is not the time for goodbyes. Are you ready? I was sent to fetch you.” The queen smiled, and Adelaide could see that she was truly happy for her little girl.

Adelaide shook her head and hugged Milla before walking with her mother down the halls. She was met with her father at the entrance of the ceremony hall, “Are you ready for this sweetheart?” King Coel reached for Adelaide’s arm and wrapped his in hers after she shook her head.

The sound of the flutes and other instruments filled her ears as she took in a deep breath. This was really it. The large doors were pulled open, and she felt all eyes on her. She brought her head up and scanned the room. Her eyes met his, and the room seemed to melt.

Adelaide felt a squeeze on her arm, but she didn’t pay it any attention and started to walk forward, her eyes only connected with his. Hvitserk’s eyes had gone wide and his mouth agape. He was taken back by her beauty and felt frozen in his spot. He watched in awe as she glided down the aisle toward him; she looked gods-like.

Once Adelaide reached the end of the aisle, the music ended, and King Coel kissed the top of her forehead and patted her arm before turning to his seat where her mother and brother were already. Both Hvitserk and Adelaide knelt on the steps. The priest stepped toward them with the wedding document in his hand, and another had the ink and quill. They both signed the document, binding them together under marriage laws.

The priest stepped back to his spot and started to read off the document. Adelaide’s mind was buzzing so loudly that she couldn’t hear what he was saying, but she had attended many weddings before, so she knew what he was announcing. They had confirmed that there had not been any prior contact with each other before the marriage, agreed to stay with each other till death do them part in sickness and in health, in good times and in bad times. They promised to be faithful to each other for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer.

Once the priest had finished, both Hvitserk and Adelaide stood to their feet and joined in hands, “Do you, Hvitserk Lothbrok, agree to these terms and therefore take Adelaide Coel to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

Hvitserk bit his lip, “I do,” He was speaking Adelaide’s language. It was broken and grumbled, but it made Adelaide happy nonetheless that Hvitserk had learned the phrase.

“Do you, Adelaide Coel, agree to these terms and therefore take Hvitserk Lothbrok to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

“I do,” Adelaide smiled and turned her head to the priest.

“With the power vested in me, I pronounce Hvitserk Lothbrok and Adelaide Coel husband and wife. You may now kiss your bride.” The priest gestured to Adelaide to signal to Hvitserk that he could kiss her.

Hvitserk caught on and wrapped his hands around her jaw and connected their lips. Cheers erupted around the couple. The kiss was deep, filled with passion, but like most of their kisses, it was cut short as Hvitserk pulled back. Adelaide smiled as the couple joined hands once more and walked down the petal littered aisle.

Adelaide caught a glimpse of Milla in the back of the hall, and she was absolutely bawling, and so was her mother. King Coel had a look of pride and nodded toward Adelaide as she passed by.

The party moved to a large ballroom where there was an open space meant for dancing and conversing. Small tables were placed around the edge of the room with white flower arrangements in the center of each. There was a little band in the left corner who started to play a slow song as the bride and groom entered the room. The guests parted for Adelaide and Hvitserk to make their way to the center of the room for their first dance as husband and wife.

Hvitserk placed his hand out for Adelaide to place hers in and when they reached the middle of the room, he had placed one hand on her waist, and one was put behind his back. They started to dance to the music. Hvitserk was spinning Adelaide, making her giggle at his jagged movements with the formal dance. He picked her up by the waist and lifted her up in the air as the music started to slow to a stop. When he slowly began to let her down, their faces almost touched, and Adelaide could feel his breath on her face.

The room started to clap for the couple, and Adelaide laughed, looking around at the guests. The music began to pick up, and the guests started to join in, taking the pressure off the couple and letting them relax a little bit.

“I am so excited to take you back to Kattegat. My mother will love you, and our people will adore you,” Hvitserk started to sway the both of them to music. He had a massive grin on his face that was contagious, and Adelaide started to smile even though moving away from her home terrified her.

“I hope your mother will like me. But I am going, to be honest, I am terrified of leaving. I want to start my life with you, but moving so far away from my home and so quickly, keeps me up at night.” Adelaide confessed to her new husband.

“You have nothing to fear. I will be by your side the whole time; no harm will ever come to you or your name. Trust me,” Hvitserk calmed Adelaide’s nerves with a kiss on top of her forehead. Adelaide laid her head on Hvitserk’s chest and they swayed to the music.

Adelaide felt a tap on her shoulder that brought her back to reality. Her father was standing before her, “Hvitserk, can I have this dance with my daughter?” Hvitserk nodded even though he had no idea what the King had said.

The king took Adelaide’s hand into his and started slowly dance to the music with his daughter, “I am very proud of you, Adelaide. You did this for your Kingdom, and your people know what you have done for them.”

Adelaide smiled at her father, “They’re the reason why I do everything I do. I want to protect them, and if marring a Northman means shielding them from their violence, then there is no choice. I had to marry Hvitserk.”

King Coel was very proud of his daughter and her dedication to her Kingdom, “You’ve handled this with such grace and poise. No other woman I know would have done what you have. I know this was a sacrifice for you and you accepted it and never doubted me or my decisions.”

Adelaide always loved when her father praised her, but she did not do this for him. She did this for her people so that they would never be raided by the Northmen and know the reality of their ferocity. “Thank you, father. Your words mean a great deal to me. I always strive to bring respect and honor to our name.”

The king nodded and then continued to dance with his daughter in silence. He knew this was probably the last time he would get to, and he wanted to savor the moment. The rest of the night was full of food, drinks, and laughs. When the night started to settle in, the priest had told the King that they were ready for the consummation, and the King gathered the people involved.

Hvitserk looked confused as did his brothers when they were all led to a secluded bedroom in the side hall of the castle, “This is our consummation, Hvitserk. This is what seals our marriage and makes it official under the eyes of God. There must be witnesses that we were connected mentally and physically, or our marriage could be accused of being void in the future.”

“I don’t understand why we must have an audience watch us. That is an invasion of privacy,” Hvitserk protested and raised his voice. The room was filled the priest, the King, Queen, and Prince along with Ragnar, Ubbe, Ivar, and a few servants. Adelaide requested that Milla be present and she was there in the back holding her hand to her mouth.

“Hvitserk, we are the only people in this room that matter. Focus on me and only me,” Adelaide leaned forward and kissed Hvitserk. It was a deep kiss, but Adelaide felt Hvitserk’s hesitation. She wrapped her hands in his hair and started to walk backward until her body collided with the bed. Hvitserk pulled back and stared into Adelaide’s eyes, “Please. Do this for me.”

Hvitserk nodded his head, and the couple moved up the bed. The priest closed the sheer curtains around the bed. It brought very little coverage, and the witnesses could see their shadows on the fabric.

Hvitserk connected their lips this time, and Adelaide felt him get more comfortable. He lowered his kisses down to her shoulder, and Adelaide arched her back to give him more access, and he made his way down her body, taking her thin nightgown with him. Soon she was bare to him, and Hvitserk sat back on his knees and took her body in.

“Mm, even more perfect than what I had imagined,” Hvitserk had a look of hunger in his eyes that made Adelaide shiver. He leaned back down to bring his lips to the soft spot under her jaw that made her let out a low moan. Hvitserk’s hands wandered Adelaide’s body, teasing her as they ghosted over her skin but avoided the place she needed him the most.

“Please, Hvitserk.” Adelaide didn’t know what she was asking for. She wanted Hvitserk to touch her either to fill the need starting to build up or to complete to marriage and get the people who were right outside of the curtains to leave.

Hvitserk picked up on what Adelaide was trying to convey as he brought his hands to tear his tunic off. They were completely exposed to each other now, and Adelaide took in Hvitserk’s appearance in. His soft, lightly tanned skin looked heavenly in the glow of the candles. His muscles were defined most likely by all the physical activity he partakes in because of his Viking culture.

Hvitserk reached a hand down to Adelaide’s breast and lightly squeezed it in his large palm, and his other hand was grabbing at her ass. His lips were on her throat, leaving little marks. Adelaide’s hands were in his hair, clutching at the roots.

Adelaide grabbed the hand that was on her ass and moved it over her sex. Hvitserk brought his eyes up to hers and raised his eyebrows. Adelaide just nodded in response.

Hvitserk ghosted his hand over her until taking his middle finger and connecting it to her clit and drawing slow circles on it. This made Adelaide gasp loudly and threw her head back into the pillow. Hvitserk continued his assault on her clit, slowly moving quicker and adding more pressure. He switched from his middle finger to his thumb as he entered one finger into her tight sex.

Adelaide couldn’t hold in her moans anymore as he started to pump into her and she started to ache for more, “Hvitserk,” she moaned out. He added another finger and Adelaide started to pant loudly, a knot beginning to form in the pit of her stomach.

But as quickly as the pleasure started to build, it was taken away as Hvitserk pulled his hands away from her wet center. His fingers were slick with her arousal, and he brought them to his mouth. He held eye contact with Adelaide as he licked his fingers clean, letting them out with a pop.

Adelaide whined at the sight, and the ache at the entrance grew. Hvitserk looked at her with concern and Adelaide nodded in response as she felt him line himself up with her. “I will go slow,” Hvitserk whispered in her ear.

Adelaide felt a strange pressure as he started to slowly push himself in. She felt herself stretch to accommodate his size, and she gasped loudly as he gradually came to a stop as he was entirely inside her. Hvitserk gave her a moment to adjust before he started to pull out. The emptiness made a whimper leave her mouth before a moan replaced it when he thrust back in.

Hvitserk started to pick up the pace as Adelaide’s moans became more confident. Hvitserk’s fingers connected to Adelaide’s clit again and made Adelaide groan and grip the sheets. It wasn’t long before she felt the knot form in her stomach again.

She pulled Hvitserk down to her by his neck and connected their lips in a sloppy, rushed kiss as Hvitserk’s hips started to slam into her. Adelaide clenched when she felt herself come undone, and she let out a sound that was close to a scream.

Her legs started to tremble as ecstasy came over her body. Her back arched into Hvitserk as he started to sloppily thrust into her, letting her ride out her orgasm. He was very close to his own as well, and when Adelaide moaned out his name, he was thrown off the edge and his seed filled Adelaide. She could feel it, and she sucked in her breath at the feeling.

Hvitserk let out one last moan before falling beside Adelaide, and the emptiness making her whimper. He leaned over to Adelaide and kissed the top of her sweaty forehead, “You did so well, my bride.”

“Has it been done, Princess?” The Priest called from outside the curtain.

“Yes, Father,” Adelaide said breathlessly. The couple could hear the crowd shuffling around before hearing the door close.

“This is the last time we have to do this, right?” Hvitserk questioned with a grin.

“Unless it excited you to have an audience,” Adelaide smirked, and Hvitserk pulled himself on top of her and connected their lips again.

A/N: Oh, wow this is long, excuse any errors! Thank yall so much for your positive feedback and continue commenting what you think of this story and what you think should happen! Again, if you want to be tagged, PLEASE send me an ask otherwise there is no guarantee that you will if you ask in a reply / reblog because sometimes I don’t see them. Also, tomorrow there should be a Riverdale piece going up! IT’s finished, but I couldn’t post it today because I'm posting this!

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@fuckyeahalexhoghandersen @fuvkingkillme @vbiggs03 @imanangelyouidjit @justacrush @lovelynerdytraveler @glassteethclan @bagelblossom @angelaiswriting @decaffeinatedeaglefart @kawennote09 @imnotinsanehunny

[starboyreggie]

A Princess and a Pagan

A Princess and a Pagan: Virtue

Part One // Part Three

Word Count: 2147

Pairing: Hvitserk x Adelaide (OC)

Summary: Adelaide doubts everything as her wedding with Hvitserk is in two days. Amid her thoughts, Hvitserk surprises her with advancements that Adelaide isn’t ready for. The pair exchange heated words, and Adelaide’s questions are answered.

Warnings: self-doubt, unwanted advances, titty grab, use of the word ‘whore’, slander on both sides

Masterlist

// There is a time jump between the last part and this one by a couple of weeks //

The sun was setting on the beautiful kingdom of West Anglia. The warm, orange rays peaking through the leafless trees. The temperature was dropping, and the townspeople were settling down for the night, closing their shops and heading to their families at home.

Adelaide took a sip of her drink as she gazed out of the large windows in the grand hall. Her people were everything to her. It was her duty to protect them and make the tough decisions that would, in the end, benefit them. She had to put the people of West Anglia before herself and be completely selfless.

Adelaide wasn’t mad at her father for making a deal with the Northmen. He made a choice that he thought would protect his people, something Adelaide would have also done if she was in his shoes. Even though Adelaide accepted the marriage of Hvitserk and herself, it didn’t mean that she wanted it.

Growing up, her mother told her stories of how King Coel had swept her off her feet. It was love at first sight for them, and Adelaide had always dreamed of having the same prince charming story. She only had one boyfriend before now, and that relationship ended because he had wanted something that Adelaide couldn’t give him just yet.

It’s not that she didn’t have urges or couldn’t get a partner. Adelaide had wanted to give it to her husband on their coronation night. But now that it would be with a Northman, she didn’t know what to do. Her virtue was valuable, did he really deserve it? She wasn’t going to resist the marriage, but she could refuse to give such a treasured thing to Hvitserk.

Adelaide was taken from her thoughts as her teacher dropped a thick book on the table. “Princess Adelaide, you are never going be able to converse with your husband if you do not pay attention.” He had a scowl on his face as he glared at her.

“I think we are done for the day. My mind is somewhere else; there is no reason to continue.” Adelaide stood up, the back of her knees pushing the chair back.

“Your wedding is in two days. You are learning quickly, but their language is quite complicated.” Her teacher was a wanderer who had been brought in to teach Adelaide the Northmen’s language. He had a long, grey beard and his eyes had held a sense of knowledge mixed with pain.

“I will study some more before I go to bed. You are dismissed now, thank you for your patience.” Adelaide smiled softly and nodded toward him. He turned the table, and Adelaide sat back down with a huff, throwing her head in her hands. Her wedding was in two days’ time, and she had known this for some time, but she still could not wrap her mind around it.

Adelaide was so in her head that she had not heard the door open and someone sit down in the chair adjacent to hers. A small cough filled the room and made Adelaide jump as her head snapped up. Her eyes were met with soft, kind eyes.

It was evident on her face that she had been startled, “I am sorry Adelaide. I did not mean to frighten you,” Hvitserk spoke slowly, enunciating his words.

It took Adelaide a moment to respond as she was looking for the right words. “It is no problem. I was not doing anything.” She was keeping her sentences simple and concise as she was afraid of saying the wrong thing and angering him.

“I see that you are doing very well at learning our language.” He commented with a smile, happy to see his soon-to-be wife excelling.

It was painfully obvious that he was trying to make conversation, “My teacher said that I was a fast learner. Is there something that you needed?”

Hvitserk fidgeted in his seat, “Yes actually –” He was cut off by Milla entering the hall and the door creaking open quite loudly.

“Oh, I am sorry my princess,” Milla looked down at her feet, “I did not know you were with company. I had been informed that your lessons had ended and came to fetch you for your bath.”

Adelaide smiled kindly and Hvitserk was awestruck at her beauty, “It is okay Milla. I will be with you in just a moment. Thank you.” Milla nodded her head and walked back out of the door.

Adelaide turned back to Hvitserk, “I am sorry, but I am needed elsewhere. Was what you needed very important?”

Hvitserk sighed and looked down at his lap, “Nothing that cannot wait. Please go attend to your duties.”

Adelaide smiled at him before saying goodbye and heading toward her chambers where Milla would be waiting with a warm bath.

She entered the room and sure enough, there was Milla pouring a bucket of water into the tub. “Milla, I am so torn. I want to do what is right for my people, but can I really marry a pagan?”

Milla put the bucket down and guided Adelaide to her floor length mirror and started to undo her dress laces, “My dear Princess, listen to your heart. Follow your instinct and do what you feel is right. We all trust you to make the right choice.”

Adelaide brought her hands to her shoulders and pulled the black dress down her body, embracing the frigid air that hit her exposed skin. She walked over to the tub and stepped in, “Thank you, Milla. You may go. I wish to be alone with my thoughts tonight.”

Milla kissed Adelaide on the top of her forehead before leaving the princess alone. Adelaide let the warm water soothe her muscles as she leaned her head against the back of the tub and let her thoughts take over once more.

Could she be able to give up a chance at true happiness for the protection of her people? Could she learn to love Hvitserk? How would she fit in at Kattegat? Would her people consider her a traitor for marrying such a violent man? Adelaide’s mind kept buzzing with similar questions until her head started to feel physically dizzy.

Adelaide finally got out of the bath when she felt as if she would melt if she didn’t get out of the water at that second. Adelaide walked over to her bed where Milla had laid out a silk nightgown. She heard a knock at the door and absentmindedly welcomed the visitor in without thinking since the only people who were in her room this late were herself and Milla.

“Could you braid my hair tonight?” Adelaide asked as she heard steps approach her, but no response. It wasn’t until she felt strong arms wrap around her naked waist that she knew it wasn’t Milla.

Adelaide started to panic and jerk around as the intruder had hidden his face behind her neck. She smelt a strong scent of sweat mixed wood and felt rough leather against her bare back. Hvitserk.

He moved his head to the crook of her neck and placed sweet kisses on her skin and Adelaide moved her head to the side to allow him more access. His hands reached around to grab her breasts. Hvitserk kneading them in his large, rough hands. Adelaide was breathing heavily and had to bite her lip to keep a moan from escaping her mouth. “Princess, you are so beautiful. I cannot believe you are to be all mine.”

This snapped Adelaide out of her trace, “Hvitserk, we cannot. We are not married yet.” She brought her shoulder up as she pushed him out of the crook her neck.

“What is two days? We are basically married. We do not have to tell anyone. Stop acting so pure, there is no way a woman with your beauty has not already been ravished by a man.” Hvitserk brought his lips to her exposed shoulder.

This comment extremely offended Adelaide. What did he mean when he said she had been ravished by another man? Does he think that she did not wait for her husband? “I don’t know what pagan culture you come from, but in West Anglia, the women are not whores. They wait to give their virtue to their husbands on their wedding day. So, you can get your filthy hands off me right now, you ignorant pagan.”

Adelaide was breathing heavily and Hvitserk had seemed stunned as he had frozen in his tracks. He quickly snapped out of it when he brought his mouth to Adelaide’s ear, “Well at least our women aren’t prudes and don’t go sucking up to daddy whenever they have a problem.”

Hvitserk ripped his hands off Adelaide and took her breath away. Tears stung in her eyes as she ran her hands down her waist where his hands had been. She quickly grabbed her nightgown and slipped it over her head before she jumped into bed. All her doubts and questions had been answered within 5 minutes after weeks of pondering.

Hvitserk stormed down the hallway, heading toward where his brothers were. They would be in the hall, drinking and eating. Surely enough, when he entered through the large doors, there they were. Hvitserk sat down at the end of the table with a huff, grabbing a cup of mead and downing it.

“Oh wow, women troubles already, brother?” Ivar teased and laughed as he smirked at Hvitserk.

“The stupid woman turned me down. Said that she couldn’t because we are not married yet even though we are to be wed in only two days.” Hvitserk reached to refill his cup, gritting his teeth recalling the events that happened moments ago.

“Princess Adelaide is a lot of things, but stupid is not one of them,” Ubbe added with a nod of his head.

“I think you should go back in there, and claim what is rightfully yours. She will be your wife very soon and nothing is going to stop the wedding, so what is a couple days in comparison to the rest of your life?” Ivar exclaimed with an edge to his voice.

“Do not listen to Ivar. That will ruin your relationship as Adelaide will never trust you again,” Ivar rolled his eyes at Ubbe’s words, “What is a couple of hours in comparison to the rest of your life?” Ubbe scowled at Ivar.

Hvitserk didn’t have time to respond as he heard the door slowly open and he turned around in his seat to see who it was. Adelaide was wearing a thin nightgown and he could see the outline of her breasts through it and her slightly hard nipples that had been in his hands just a short while ago.

He turned around with a huff and took a sip from his cup. “Hvitserk, can we please talk?” Adelaide sounded so small and it pulled at his heartstrings.

“What would you have to say to a pagan?” Hvitserk snapped and Adelaide flinched at his harsh tone.

“Please, I have something important to say to you.” Adelaide shifted from one foot to the other as she felt Ivar’s eyes bore into her.

“Princess, whatever it is that you have to say, you can say it in front of all of us,” Ivar interjected with a strong voice.

Adelaide crossed her arms over her chest and walked over to the table. She sat down next to Hvitserk and leaned toward him. He would not make eye contact with her and put a slice of meat into his mouth.

“I am sorry I said those things about your women. I have been under a lot of stress lately and I have been questioning everything. I am not making excuses; I should have not taken it out on you. I wasn’t being a good wife, and I regret it.” Adelaide confessed and looked down at her lap.

Hvitserk connected his fingers to her chin and brought her eyes to meet his, “It is okay Adelaide. I said equally hurtful words. I should have respected you more.” Hvitserk wrapped his hand around her jaw and brought her face closer to his, “Is it okay if I kiss you?”

The question was so simple, but it warmed Adelaide’s heart that he cared to ask. She answered his question by closing the gap between them and connecting their lips. One of Hvitserk’s hands stayed on her jaw while the other on found its way to her waist where he grabbed at her hip. The kiss was sweet and filled with emotion. Adelaide didn’t feel pressured to go forward, in fact, Hvitserk was the one to break the kiss.

He had a huge smile on his face as he grabbed Adelaide’s cheek and tenderly rubbed his thumb on her soft skin, “Just two more days, my prince.”

A/N: Thank you all for your positive response to this series! I was nervous to post this and seeing all your feedback makes my heart warm. Feel free to give me your take on where you see this story should go as I have no set plans yet. Also if you would like to be tagged in this series, shoot me an ask and I would be happy to add you because when people comment on the posts it just gets jumbled up and I sometimes don’t see it.

taglist;

@fuckyeahalexhoghandersen @fuvkingkillme @vbiggs03 @justacrush @glassteethclan @bagelblossom @imanangelyouidjit @lovelynerdytraveler

[spacemilkies]

ivar fluff please!

It was a tight fit. The little wooden basin was never meant for two despite how adventurous members of the community got when it came to private affairs. Still, Ivar invited you to join him all the same. He’d first ordered the servants to prepare it, making sure that it was full to the extent so that their presence wouldn’t be necessary. You doubted he took into account water displacement and the space for your two bodies, and how water would be the losing challenger in the battle.

He watched you as you stripped, already comfortable with both arms stretched along the rim. With practice, he’d learned to drag himself over the edge without tipping the integrity, though more water was lost by his independence. He waved over your urge to warm up a refill, instead encouraging you to pluck at your own clothing and join him sooner.

The moment you slid into the water, large hands beckoned you closer, big calluses causing friction against your skin despite the liquid matrix. Your fingers danced up the expanse of his palm where they tangled , while another fitted at your hip to steady and direct you back against his chest.

Just barely lapping at your chest now, the water level was teetering on half full but the heat was fortunately not lost. That or the proximity to the fire was doubling the supported temperature. It was nice- relaxing curled on your side, settled between his legs with your head on his shoulder. Ivar shared the contentment, hand rising from your waist to comb back the hair away from your forehead. The action streaking it from the roots in damp lines; at the crest he left a short kiss.

“This is nice,” he purred invitingly, head lolled back in a visage of utter relief. With every passing minute, another muscle gave away to the feeling until all the tension unraveled from his body. His build may not have been proportioned, but his upper frame was bulky and always tirelessly dragging him through the day- literally. You were more than happy to join him in these moments.

You tucked your head against his neck, humming in agreement. “Is the great heathen finally admitting to doing too much?”

Ivar didn’t bite into the bait, instead the rumble of his chuckle vibrated against your body. “There is always much to be done. My family has a history of surprises, it’s important to be prepared.” he quipped cheerfully, his playfulness emphasised more by the nipping kiss at your cheek.

“Perhaps, but even Rome wasn’t built over night.”

“Oh? Who told you that?”

“...hm, the Romans?”

Ivar’s gaze was unyielding, never faltering in the amount of amusement he held toward you. Eventually, he gave a slow nod of acknowledgement. “I wasn’t aware that my wife was such a wander.”

Your hand broke the water’s surface to point an accusatory finger at him, “I’ll have you know, given the chance I’d travel the world twice over. Your brother proved how much more is out there. “ Ivar’s protective streak seemed to across thousands of kilometers, never ceasing in its pursuit for your safety. In the beginning, you’d found it suffocating, restricting, btu in time you began to see it for the necessary precaution it was.

Ivar nipped at your finger, shifting in the tub slightly and adjusting you along the way. “And nearly died in the process. Not everything is to be discovered just yet. We must expand with caution.”

“When did you get so old and wise?” Your hand slipped back down under the surface, but not without taking the opportunity slide it across the marrowed skin of his chest.

“Old?” With impossible strength, Ivar brough both of his hands to your hips, rearranging you to straddle his hips. Water splashed in your scramble as your hands darted up to steady yourself by his shoulders. He cocked a smug smile, a characteristic trait you’ve come to adore despite its arrogance. His hand came back up again, keeping your hair from every drying with another comb of his fingers. “It’s merely the presence of Odin’s guidance blessing my decisions.”

Your brow creased, firmly assessing his stature with a soft nod. “You’ve always been so self assured.” Perhaps, at a time not too far into the past, it aggravated you beyond belief. Back then you shared the unpopular opinion of hoping to see his befalling, even if it was just to wipe the smug expression off his face.

Ivar was curling into you though, undeterred. There was a nostalgic tilt to his lips as he spoke. “I owe it to Floki as well. Even with a head full of rocks, he was an exceptional Viking.”

Ivar let his back sag back into the curve of the tub, relaxing down to the line of water. Your gaze dropped as your voice adopted a wistful tone.

“I pray our child will be able to hold a candle to the accomplishments of those who came before them.”

His hand comes down to graze your stomach thoughtfully at the proclamation but your hand followed to add pressure and curve his hand around the shape of it.

He stopped at that, apprehension evident in his dark gaze as they scoured over you for any indication of a rouse. Just moments ago the two of your were settling into a comical setting, and while this would be a cruel joke, he was unsettled by the abrupt shift. Leaning forward,Ivar pulled in a careful breath as his eyes flicked down to take in the barely noticeable protrusion.

“Are-”

Shuffling closer, you closed the distance to press a small kiss to his lips, hoping to convey genuinity. His response was immediate, kissing back with heavy reprocation.

“Surprise.”

“I just hope they have enough of my wandering soul to never let you rest.”