#modern!ivar the boneless

[hoteldreamss]

Ivar the Boneless || imagine

Метки: вампир!Ивар; Современное AU/modern AU; убийства; питьё крови.

Слов: 2 415

Вывеска бара ярко светит. Красный свет отражался бликами на мокром асфальте, после пасмурного и дождливого дня. Ты слышишь музыку из заведения, весёлая, хотя народу там было мало и веселиться некому. Поэтому ты вышла из «Лесной рощи», решая немного покурить и избавиться от надоедливой группы людей, которые были с тобой.

Веся эта экскурсия уже казалась тебе неудавшейся. Сначала ваш водитель опоздал, и вам пришлось проторчать на холоде около часа. Затем микроавтобус никак не мог завестись. Позже тебе пришлось обнаружить, что ты взяла еле работающую зарядку и через собственную гордость ты попросила одного из своих одногруппников одолжить тебе не переломанный провод. Потом тебя заселили в номер с самым раздражающим человеком, который только мог быть в вашей группе. Блондинка, будто была воплощением фразы «Pick me girl», и ты старалась делать вид, что всё в порядке, хотя всё уже складывалось дурно.

Но пошёл дождь в этом маленьком городке, который явно жил за счёт туристов, приезжавших сюда ради великого Ивара Бескостного, мёртвого уже больше тысячи лет, но люди до сих пор помнят его. Замок, в котором он жил был единственной интересной для тебя вещью, поэтому такая злая. Ведь из-за дождя ваш преподаватель отказался вас везти в лес. По его словам, дорога была опасной не только для проезда, но и для того, чтобы добираться до замка пешком.

Выдыхая дым, ты думаешь о том, чтобы вернуться в отель и лечь спать, но из-за своей соседке, которая, ты уверена, могла притащить одного из ваших однокурсников или вовсе всю группу для продолжения веселья, ты не была уверена, что засыпать в номере пока этого не сделает Ида - хорошая идея.

Уже докуривая, ты слышишь звук открывающейся двери и шаги.

— Угостишь? — твой одногруппник – Марко, выглядит также не таким радостным, как и ты.

Молча протягиваешь ему упаковку сигарет. Он достаёт одну, кивнув в знак благодарности, после чего ты протягиваешь ему зажигалку, которую он тоже принимает.

— Ида, хочет перенести всё это в мотель, — произносит Марко, заставляя тебя усмехнуться собственным мыслям и предположениям.

— В номер, где живёт не только она?

— Она сказала, что ты не будешь против.

Ты тяжело вздыхаешь, уже думая о том, чтобы спать в микроавтобусе. У тебя не хватит денег снять собственный номер.

— Ты можешь переночевать в моём.

— Он не только твой.

— Мы оба знаем, что мой сосед хочет спать с твоей соседкой.

Ты не сдерживаешь смешок.

— Ты не будешь ко мне приставать и домогаться? — Ты с прищуром смотришь на него, предполагая худшее, но Марко казался тебе неплохим парнем, он тихий, и ты ни разу не слышала от него бредовых высказываний и не видела мудатского поведения.

— Нет! Боги. Я просто подумал, что тебе будет неудобно ночевать первый день там с ними, — произносит он, затягиваясь сигаретой. — Если ты не хочешь, то ладно.

— Когда ты пойдёшь в отель? Я хочу это сделать без лишних вопросов от других, — признаёшь ты, выкинув бычок в мусорку.

— Сейчас?..

***

Это была неплохая ночь, за которую ты хорошо выспалась. Марко оказался почти джентльменом, ни разу не потревожив тебя, и даже разбудил к завтраку.

И теперь вы направлялись к замку, который тебе не терпелось увидеть. Тебе требовалось узнать как можно больше, чтобы хорошо написать дипломную работу. Ты надеешься, что ваша экскурсия могла бы помочь в этом.

Твой телефон был заряжен полностью, благодаря Марко, в твоём рюкзаке была вода, немного снеков, на всякий случай, и даже аптечка. Ты не была уверена, что прям всё было тебе нужно, но ваш учитель сказал вам подготовиться, поскольку на микроавтобусе вы проедете лишь часть пути, пока остальную часть вам придётся пройти пешком.

Дождя сегодня не было, но небо всё равно пасмурное. Ты уверена, что вы успеете до того, как дороги размоет, и они станут скользкими.

И может ты надеялась на хороший обед, может даже немного больше провести время с Марко, который внезапно решил, что вы могли бы держаться вместе. Поэтому он шёл с тобой рядом молча всю дорогу.

Но теперь, когда вы подошли к замку, который был заброшен и ограждён, из-за аварийной опасности, вы поняли, что так и не окажетесь внутри. Местные жители говорили, что люди часто пропадали в этом месте, либо они не возвращались, либо находили их обескровленные тела. Но ты, как все в твоей группе была уверена, что это просто байки. Попытки напугать туристов.

— И так, как вы знаете, этот замок принадлежал Ивару Бескостному, который погиб восемьсот семьдесят третьем году. После одной из самых кровавых битв, он вернулся в замок с тяжёлыми ранениями. Учитывая его инвалидность, удивительно, что он вообще смог воевать.

— Давайте зайдём в замок, — кликнула Ида, заставляя поднять группу гул согласия, пока ты наблюдала за всем этим.

Ваш преподаватель явно не желал нарушать правила безопасности, но мужчина ничего не мог сделать с гулом и криками требования. Замок ограждён всего лишь лентой, и имеет табличку с надписью «не входить, здание в аварийном состоянии».

Но кажется, ваша группа всё равно смогла повлиять на мужчину и вот, вы уже без особого труда распахиваете дверь, заставляя солнечные лучи проникать в коридор замка.

Под твоими ботинками тихо хрустят мелкие камни и какие-то куски дерева, которые не известно откуда взялись именно здесь.

Вы моментально расходитесь по комнатам, ты исчезаешь раньше, чем Марко мог бы тебя заметить. Ты легко находишь спальню, которая не выглядит такой уж заброшенной, хотя здесь есть слои пыли, всё же остаётся ощущение присутствия кого-то. Но ты лишь осматриваешься, оценивая меха на кровати, забитые досками окна, через которые проникают тонкие лучи света, но они плохо помогают тебе рассмотреть обстановку. Ты замечаешь множество свечей на камине, сильно испачканный сажей.

Тебя смущает это, как и разбитое зеркало в углу. Но ты решаешь пойти дальше, может это были бездомные, которые нашли себе пристанище здесь. Добравшись до другой комнаты, ты замечаешь, что она менее обжита. Но это тоже спальня, уже с сантиметровыми слоями пыли, из-за чего ты чихаешь пару раз. Всё это кажется увлекательным, пока ты не слышишь крик. Это заставляет твои волосы на затылке стать дыбом, и ты сразу направляешь в коридор, где вы разделились. По пути ты думаешь, что кто-то, наверное, кого-то разыгрывает, но пока ты направляешься к лестнице, чтобы спуститься на первый этаж замка, ты слышишь ещё один крик, заставляющий твоё сердце замереть всего на долю секунды и подумать стоит ли продолжать идти дальше. Хотя может здание и впрямь было в аварийном состоянии и кого-то из твоих одногруппников прижало чем-то тяжёлым, может кто-то провалился неизвестно куда. Может кому-то необходима помощь. Поэтому ты ускоряешь свой шаг, но не успевая дойти до лестницы ты видишь своего учителя, который кажется напуганным даже больше, чем от какого-то несчастного случая. Ты хочешь подбежать к нему, но незнакомец, появившийся из-за спины преподавателя заставляет тебя остановиться.

Твои глаза округляются, выглядя как две монетки. Ты не двигаешься, пытаясь разглядеть то, что происходит. Незнакомец впивается в шею твоего учителя. Он не замечает тебя, думаешь ты. Может, тебе следует найти другой выход с этого этажа. Бежать не оглядываясь. Поэтому ты отступаешь назад, пока не начинаешь бежать. Тебе нужно просто добраться до выхода, а затем до вашего микроавтобуса, тебя увезут от сюда, может кто-то ещё цел. А может это глупый розыгрыш.

Ты слышишь шаги позади себя, пока бежишь по коридорам замка, не рискуя оборачиваться. Добежав до дверей, с надежд��й, что за ней может быть лестница, по который ты добралась бы до первого этажа.

— Почему вы всегда надеетесь убежать? — его голос с идеальным английским акцентом, заставляющий тебя задуматься, кем был человек позади тебя.

Комната перед которой ты оказываешься большая, но не похожа на какой-нибудь бальный зал для празднований, скорее для совещаний. Хотя здесь нет предметов мебели, только пыль. В ней не забиты окна досками, и ты подбегаешь к окну, надеясь увидеть кого-то из выбравшихся от сюда. Но внизу никого, а позади тебя оказывается незнакомец.

Повернувшись, ты видишь симпатичного молодого человека. На вид ему лет двадцать восемь, может даже тридцать. Он одет в лёгкую футболку, пальто и джинсы, на его ногах ботинки. Ты на самом деле понятия не имеешь, кто он. Ты не видела его ни в каких новостях о маньяках, и уж тем более ты не видела его в городе, иначе запомнила бы его голубые глаза. Ты никогда раньше не встречала таких голубых глаз.

— Это не спасёт тебя, — произносит он, и его губы растягиваются в улыбке.

— Ты убил всех?

— Нет. Ещё парочка в южном крыле, и ещё двое трахаются на первом этаже, — он усмехается. — Но мне нравится оставлять самых глупых на десерт. Знаешь, оставляю лёгкие задачи на потом.

Ты хмуришься, предполагая, что он убийца, но оглядев его ты не видишь никакого оружия. Может он был каннибалом? Ты ведь видела, как он разорвал шею твоему преподавателю.

— Я, как сейчас, это называют, вампир. — Он замечает замешательство, которое отражается на твоем лице.

Ты нервно смеёшься, думая, что он должно быть сумасшедший.

— Не так уж и смешно. — Он делает шаги к тебе, но стоит ему подойти к свету, в котором ты находилась, он останавливается. — Вы сами ищете меня, заходите в мой дом, а затем рассказывайте страшные истории, даже если ничего подобного не было. Я предпочитаю не оставлять в живых.

Ты чувствуешь, как твои слёзы начинают скатываться по щекам. Должно быть он просто чокнутый. Страх сковывает тебя изнутри, ты до конца не можешь поверить в происходящее.

— Как тебя зовут? — его вопрос заставляет тебя растеряться.

Ты называешь ему своё имя.

— Хорошее имя. Я Ивар.

— Ты? Ты сумасшедшей...

Что ты могла думать? Чокнутый парень выдаёт себя за мёртвого, великого правителя и викинга? Он был убийцей и называл себя вампиром. Тебе в голову только и лезут разумные объяснения всего этого. Он просто местный сумасшедший, может с кучей денег, раз так одет.

— Это не исключает того, что я Ивар. — Он видит, как ты всё ближе подходишь к окну, но ты замечаешь, что он не двигается со своего места, до сих пор стоит на границе света. — Что ж, побудь здесь, сладкая, договорились? Не хочу упустить твоих друзей. Они кажется уже собираются уходить.

Тогда не проходит и секунды, как он исчезает. Твои всхлипы разносятся по всей комнате, пока ты замечаешь, как твои руки трясутся.

Ты боишься выйти из зала, ты также боишься вообще сойти со своего места. Кажется будто ты упадёшь на колени, и твои ноги откажут, если ты сделаешь хоть шаг. Что если ты сдвинешься, и он появится из ниоткуда. Что если он на самом деле был вампиром. Это было так глупо, но что если?

В какой-то момент, когда крики боли и страха прекратили доноситься до тебя, ты подумала, что можешь уйти. Может это был розыгрыш.

Но стоит тебе сделать шаг, как ты слышишь скрип дверей и переведя взгляд, ты видишь Ивара. Он выглядит довольным и намного спокойней, более безмятежным, чем раньше. Ивар вытирает рот каким-то платком, заставляя тебя подумать о смехотворности ситуации.

— Думал, ты уже сбежала отсюда. Хотя я не позволил бы тебе, конечно, — произносит он, убирая платок.

Ивар снова становится слишком близко, но не пересекает свет, в котором ты стоишь.

— Знаешь, я думал о том, чтобы не есть тебя, учитывая, что я уже наелся до сыты, ты могла бы стать моим долгосрочным запасом, — произносит он, убирая руки в карманы пальто. — Мне всё время не хватало терпения, взять кого-то к себе в фамильяры, к тому же прошлый случай закончился плачевно. Но ты кажешься не такой прилипчивой.

Ты просто смотришь на него, всё ещё плача и думая о том, что может быть сегодня твой последний день, хотя ты стараешься не впадать в истерику.

— Ладно. — Ивар кажется немного раздражённым. — Я не собираюсь убивать тебя. Давай, просто подойди ко мне. Я не буду кусаться.

Он улыбается, смотря на тебя так будто флиртует, но тебе совершенно не до флирта или кокетства.

Ты не двигаешься, продолжая смотреть на него с шоком.

— Рано или поздно стемнеет, ты не можешь стоять здесь вечно, — произносит он, злясь на твоё упрямство, хотя тебя одолевает страх, нежели желание стоять на своём.

Заметив, что ты не собираешься сдвинуться с места, он глубоко вздыхает и отходит от тебя. Ивар без лишних слов направляется на выход, и ты уверена, что он просто хочет заставить тебя думать, что ты в безопасности, что у тебя есть шанс сбежать. Ты замечаешь дверь в конце комнаты, слёзы больше не застилают твой взгляд, а страх разум, поэтому ты думаешь, что могла бы ��обраться до той двери, может за ней была ви��товая лестница, и ты могла бы выбраться отсюда.

Стоит тебе попытаться перебежать к другому свету через окно, твоя спина и затылок моментально охватывает боль.

Твою шею крепко сжимают, заставляя тебя задыхаться. Перед твоими глазами Ивар, который выглядит невероятно довольным собой.

— Я даже разочарован тем, что ты решилась.

***

Это немного унизительно, просто сидеть и смотреть, как Ивар пьёт кровь из запястья Иды, безжизненной и напоминающей тряпичную куклу. Он ждал, пока стемнеет, чтобы иметь возможность выбраться отсюда, вместе с тобой.

Пока что он ничего такого не делал, чтобы привязать тебя к себе и в какой-то момент ты подумала, что он просто играется с тобой, заставляет тебя нервничать с каждой минутой больше и больше. Ты никогда, конечно же, не видела вампиров. Ивар не был бледным, как обычно, их могут описывать в книгах или показывать в фильмах, его клыки проявлялись при питье крови из кого-то, его глаза оставались прежними, за исключением расширенных зрачков во время питья крови. Он был быстрым, намного быстрее человека, и не отражался в зеркале, что, по его словам, усложняло ему жизнь, камеры тоже не могли зафиксировать его. Он сильнее обычного человека и чувствительнее к свету.

Ты всё же успокоилась и больше не плакала, может, потому что у тебя закончились силы на это.

— Солнце уже село, нам пора. — Ивар поднимается с дивана, на котором сидел, он подходит к тебе, и ты встаёшь.

Взяв тебя за локоть, он направляется к выходу из замка.

— Что ты собираешься делать? — интересуешься ты, всё ж�� надеясь сбежать.

— Поехать кое-куда. Когда взойдёт солнце, мы остановимся. — Ивар выглядит беззаботным, хотя он похищает тебя, ты всё же не чувствуешь себя такой. У тебя ощущение, что вы просто проводите время вместе, даже учитывая, что он убийца.

— Ты сказал, что сделаешь меня фамильяром.

— Да. Позже.

Вы выходите из замка, стоит вам добраться до машины, которая была накрыта тентом. Он отпускает тебя, но ты не двигаешься с места, в основном понимая, что это было бы опасно и бесполезно.

— Тебе уже не терпится? — в его тоне слышится игривость, даже если тебе совершенно не до этого.

— Почему ты не найдёшь того, кто хотел бы этого?

Ивар укладывает ткань, спасавшую автомобиль от дождя, в багажник.

— Я пробовал, всё пошло наперекосяк.

Ты не можешь сдержать своё любопытство, конечно же, ты интересуешься у него, что произошло.

— Она ста��а одержима мной, излишне одержима. Я не мог быть с другими женщинами ни в каком смысле, она даже подумала, что может запретить мне пить кровь других девушек. — Он выдаёт смешок, заставляя тебя задаться вопросом, что произошло дальше. — Я убил её. Это было сложно, учитывая, кем она стала благодаря мне.

Ты переминаешься с ноги на ногу, чувствуя холод, который проникает сквозь твою одежду. Запах мокрой земли и сосен полностью заполняет твои лёгкие, и ты даже наслаждаешься им, пока можешь.

— Садись в машину.

[multific]

In Love with a Monster

Ivar the Boneless x Reader

A/N: Dedicated to the one and only @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl

Summary: Being in an arranged marriage, you told your husband was a monster.

"He is a monster, yet you want me to marry him?!"

"It is best for our kingdom. And it is final, you will marry Ivar!" your father's words sent shivers down your spine. You have been arguing and trying to reason with him for the past hours to no avail.

Your father was a stubborn man, ever since you lost your mother, it got worse.

But having you marry a Viking? 

He said it was to ensure the relationship since Vikings were great at fights.

He explained that soon, a carriage will arrive for you and you will be taken to Kattegat to your husband.

And it was final.

You felt betrayed by your own father.

But what did you expect?

You knew he had been looking for a husband for you. You just never expected that he would find such a man, or as he said, a monster.

You had a terrible nightmare, dreaming of monsters as you woke up in cold sweat. 

Your life might as well end now.

But the next day, just as your father said, the carriage arrived and soon, you were on a boat sailing towards your demise and misery.

To be married to a Viking monster.

---

Ivar on the other hand was rather excited. When his mother told him about a Princess he will marry, he found himself to be rather excited and nervous.

He walked with his brothers towards the waters, seeing the boat, Ivar let out a sigh.

Hoping his bride would not be too afraid of him.

---

As you got off the boat a kind woman stepped forward. She was the Queen, wife of Ragnar, Aslaug. 

"Meet my sons, this is Ubbe, Sigurd, Hvitserk and your husband to be, Ivar." you kindly bowed to all of them and you could feel them staring at you. You wondered if your dress was possibly too much. You knew better than to stare but you did notice the weird contraption around Ivar's legs.

"He is a cripple, he cannot walk but do not let that fool you, he is a monster, a terrible murderer who would take down an army by himself." your father's words rang in your head.

"Currently the wedding is being planned so I think it would be best to let you rest, I'll show you to your room." said Aslaug, breaking the silence. 

You nodded one last time and the men in front of you before turning to follow their mother. She guided you to a house and inside she showed you a room. "Now, this would be only before your wedding, of course after it, you would be with Ivar. Welcome to Kattegat." she smiled before leaving you alone in the room to get ready for the wedding.

You let out a sigh.

"Are all monsters this handsome?" you said to yourself quietly before two servants arrived to get you dressed.

---

"You are lucky, Brother!" said Hvitserk as he patted Ivar on the back, they all walked off the docks, heading to their business. "She is a beauty!"

"And a Princess! You are clearly mother's favourite child, giving you such a bride. OR she just feels sorry for you." said Sigurd but Ivar didn't pay any mind to him.

His mind was filled with you.

How beautiful you looked, how shy you were. He was certain you have seen his legs, or at least heard about them. 

Ivar couldn't stop thinking about you. His senses were filled as he could recall a small whiff of your scent. Such a sweet and innocent woman you were, he could tell.

You will be the perfect wife and a great Viking.

His princess.

---

You looked at yourself in your gown as the servants left and gave you some space. 

You felt your hands shake, you knew you were about to be married to a monster.

You were terrified.

You learned a long time ago that people with beautiful faces can be the most cruel. 

And it is what you expected.

---

Ivar watched you walk towards him. Looking like a goddess, Ivar's breath was taken away immediately.

He could tell his brothers also had the same thought. 

Soon, you will be his wife, only his. 

He could see your hands shake as you said your vows.

You were his now.

His woman.

His wife.

His Princess.

His.

As the wedding concluded, now it was time for celebration. Everyone danced, drank and ate.

Ivar saw you looking around, as if trying to learn the habits. Ivar liked that you were willing. 

You, on the other hand, stared at all these people while feeling the burning looks coming from your left, Ivar kept staring at you, making you nervous.

You didn't want the night to end. You were terrified of being alone with him. You did everything that you could just to avoid being alone with him. 

You were rather surprised that Ivar didn't do anything that evening. He showed you his home but that was it, he soon headed to his bed and slept. Leaving you and your thoughts alone.

You were thankful he didn't force you.

---

This went on for a couple of days.

Ivar either ignored or barely acknowledged your presence. 

And you, were terrified of him. Being how your father put all these ideas into your head before he sent you off. 

Slowly, you started to believe they weren't true.

A monster would surely have hurt you or forced you. Ivar never did.

A monster would hurt you or leave you out in the cold. Ivar never did. Instead, he invited you into his home, his bed even, gave you furs and always made sure the fire was crackling away in its place.

During the first days, you would be afraid to fall asleep, fearing he would try something while you weren't aware of it.

But not anymore.

Slowly but surely you were coming around. 

You often heard his brothers tease him about his legs. You wondered if you should say something, but you never did.

Until tonight. When Sigurd decided to be cruel. Ivar was crawling on the floor towards Sigurd when he laughed and pulled the chair back, making Ivar fall. 

You hit the table and stood up. Your eyes locked with Sigurd's you felt everyone staring at you as the room went completely silent.

Sigurd smirked.

"Would the princess like to say something?" his mocking tone changed something inside you.

"We already know you have a tiny cock Sigurd. No need taunt my husband to try and prove otherwise." Sigurd's eyes nearly fell out of his head as Ubbe and Hvitserk laughed. Sigurd looked at Ivar before he walked out of the room, you sat back and finished your meal.

You had no idea what came over you. But you certainly didn't regret it.

"So, you do talk." said Ubbe and it made you look at him.

"Of course I do."

"You have fire in you. You'll be a great Viking." he said as he leaned back in his chair, smirking but you only looked back at your food as you ate. 

You didn't look at Ivar intentionally.

But he was looking at you.

You actually stood up for him. While everyone just sat there laughing, you actually stepped up and defended him. 

And he was grateful.

He had a feeling it wasn't out of pity but rather you had enough of his brother's teasing. 

Ivar smiled to himself as he headed back to his bed. Having his little wife defend him felt truly great. Before, only his mother stood up for him, but now, you did too.

Ivar knew you are afraid of him. It is clear in your actions. But as he pulled his shirt off and laid back in his bed, closing his eyes, all he could think about was you and how beautiful you looked as you told his brother off.

When you entered the room, your eyes were immediately drawn to Ivar. He looked to be asleep on the bed, furs pooling around his waist and his chest on full display.

You were rather taken aback. 

You have never seen him like this before. 

You were shocked. He looked so peaceful and soft. 

The tattoos adoring his chest only made his skin more stunning. The fireplace gave his skin a gorgeous glow. 

You wanted nothing more in that moment than to run your fingers over the ink on his skin.

You wanted nothing more than to kiss every inch.

He looked so comfortable, you wanted nothing more than be held by his arms.

Those strong arms.

You took silent steps, fearing you would wake him. But as you moved to lay down, he stirred as he turned and looked at you.

"I didn't mean to wake you." you said with a low voice. His eyes searched yours, slowly he moved in bed, slightly getting closer to you.

"Are you still afraid of me?" his sudden question made you question yourself.

Sure, during the last couple days, he had been nothing but kind to you.

And it did make you wonder.

He was surely not a monster.

"I don't know." your answer was honest, but you wouldn't say you were scared it was more cautious. 

Cautious because you feared you might have fallen in love with him. And you weren't sure what to do with these feelings.

"My father told me about you before I arrived and I don't think he was right."

"What did he tell you?"

"He told me you were a monster, covered in blood with a wicked smile. Tole me you were a rough man and I would be happy to live a day within your claws. But, I believe he was wrong." you looked down at your hands before looking up into his beautiful eyes. "You have been nothing but kind towards me. I heard you in the kitchen making sure everything was to my liking. You asked your mother for advice and I heard her talk with you about me. I judged you prematurely, and for that, I apologize."

"You are very different from us." he said moving to sit against the pillows. "Your dresses, your hair, the way you speak, eat. I'm simply mesmerised. I feel like I'm falling in love with you, yet don't know anything about you."

There was a moment of silence as you tried to process what he just told you.

"You can be angry and proud, but you can also be gentle and caring. I wouldn't say I love you Ivar, but I can say that I can see myself falling in love with you. I believe we could be happy together here in Kattegat."

"You defended me today. Only my mother did that before."

"I simply had enough of your brother. He believes teasing you would prove his strength but it only shows his weakness. I do like your family however. I do not have siblings, so it is nice to see."

"How many times did Hvisterk try and bed you?" you let out a sigh.

"About... five. But even so, he never touched or forced me. He just simply asked, which I always declined."

"I know you did. He would have told me if he fucked you."

"D-Don't say it like that, please! I wouldn't... sleep with your brother anyway. I believe in the unity of marriage it is sacred." 

"I know you do." Ivar smiled. "Whatever should I do to make you love me, you name it."

"I believe you are already doing enough just by being so patient with me. If you could... I-I would like to be your wife, not just the woman who sleeps in your room. I wish to be a real wife to you as you would be a real husband."

"Tell me what is it you mean by that." Ivar moved even closer, grabbing your hand and placing it on his chest. You looked deeper into his eyes.

"I wish for us to find love in one another. A companionship. I wish to be the one who can calm you when you are the most angry. I wish for us to kiss and make love. To have a future and a happy life."

"You speak so sweetly. Your father was not fully wrong however. I did kill many before and I will continue to do so. If that bothers you-"

"I doesn't. It is who you are. I see it now. It is how Viking's are. I do not want to change you. I quite like you the way you are."

"Even my legs?"

"I do not care for your legs. I believe God had to take something from you otherwise you would have been too powerful." your hand moved to his neck as you pulled him closer until your lips met his. 

You were still why and Ivar could sense that, so he decided to take lead and kiss you with passion.

He soon pulled back, "Now that we kissed, I believe it is time to make love." the way he said it, his accent made a shiver run down you spine, he moved you close to him, his lips finding your neck as his hand held your waist. 

You felt your hands shake but this time, it was more excitement than nervousness.

---

The next morning you woke up to a feeling rather strange, someone was holding you and you felt more tired than you should.

Then after just a second, the memories came back. 

Suddenly, you realized who the arms belonged to and just why you were naked.

It was very early as you could tell, Kattegat was still asleep.

And judging by the soft snores behind you, so was Ivar.

Last night was the first ever you spent with him, it was the perfect night. 

And now, feeling his breath on your neck as his arms held you to his chest, you felt at ease. You felt happy.

You managed to fall in love with the monster.

Taglist: @fleursirvart @greenarrowhead @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster @capsiclesdoll @puknow @alwayshave-faith @alex12948 @lxdyred  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @praline357 @trshngyn @avengers-r-us @violet-19999 @top1bbgloak   @manduse   @jacalineiscomingforyou​  @mandoloriancookie

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, PLAGIARISE, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS  

[incorrectvikings]

Hvitserk: I got an ice pack from the freezer!

Ivar: Why do you have chocolate on your face?

Hvitserk: It was under a pie.

Ivar: So you ate your way to it?

Hvitserk: I made a judgement call. You weren’t there.

[writingoddess1125]

Welcome Request: OPEN

Hello My name is JC and I'm a beginner writer and just fanfiction fanatic. I love writing and just like to have fun and make stupid stuff!

Support me on Ko-Fi if possible since it allows me to make these stories

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[bjornswoman]

Destruction XII

Author's note: Hello, happy New Year to you all! Sorry for being too late to post the last part of these series. However, here it is I hope you will enjoy it!

Pairing: Modern!Ivar x Reader.

Genre: Modern!au, series, fluff, drama, angst.

Warnings: Strong language, mentions of pregnancy.

Destruction | Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII | Part IX | Part X | Part XI

A couple of months later.

You had forgotten the sound of your own giggle the past year. However, those two last months were enough to prove you wrong and remind you that you still contained the ability to feel happy and laugh — finally.

“You can’t be serious!” You exclaimed laughing at your friend Torvi. There had been a long time since you last met each other. Actually, the last time you saw her was before your wedding.

A wedding that never really happened because Ivar decided to take you away. He had confessed that he loved you that same day as well. You could recollect the memory as it was yesterday.

Flashback – Two months ago.

“It’s not what you believe, (Y/N). It wasn’t just revenge for me. You mean a lot to me. You know I am just not good at saying those things and you, also, know that I can be dickhead sometimes. Don’t cry for me. I - I care for you.”

Ivar had said and kissed you like his life was depending on this kiss – like both of your life were depending on this kiss.

“Don’t get married, you don’t deserve being treated like that. Dump that asshole.”

You needed to hear these words back then – you needed a motive to stop that madness. After all, you didn’t love Mason, but Ivar.

You didn’t treat Mason right, so leaving him before this mistake would be the only thing you would do to save him from being miserable next to you – because of you.

“I won’t, Ivar.”

“You are mine.”

“I am yours.”

End of flashback.

“Oh, I’m and that’s not even the end of it.” Torvi continued speaking and got you out of your thoughts about that particular day. “Your mother was about to kill Hvitserk when he announced that Ivar had stolen you – those were the exact words he used.” She laughed. "Besides you know the love your mother contains for Hvitserk." You both laughed at her remark.

It was well-known that your mother loathed the sons of Ragnar – especially Hvitserk. She would call him peccant or sinful. Generally, she would criticize his way of living. Not that Ivar was her favourite brother though, but Hvitserk worked as a red flag for her.

You could picture your mother's face after hearing Hvitserk announcing that the wedding was over because you run away with his brother. You were sure long before Torvi told you about the events of that evening that she was furious – that was the main reason you hadn't even tried to contact her since then.

"What about Mason?" You hesitated to say his name after the way you treated him, though he wasn't honest to you either – as he lied to you about the events of the past and blamed Ivar about his doing.

Anyways, you felt guilt of your own lies, because you acted the very same way you accused Ivar of when you walked away on him.

"Oh well, I heard that he is fine though he and the boys are distant after what happened. He blames them for helping Ivar. Anyways, Ubbe told me that Ivar mentioned that he is after Freydis again."

You could understand the way Mason felt, but you couldn't focus on this after some names were mentioned successively.

"Ivar?" You muttered before you could stop yourself.

"Yes, Freydis told him."

You felt jealous once again about the same thing – you were back to the beginning of this messed up story. You felt weird after everything that happened the last two months in contrast with what Torvi just told you. Maybe you were just overreact, but still you couldn't bear lose again.

Maybe your love wasn't the healthiest one , but it was strong enough to swallow you if he hurt you like he did previously.

"Don't tell me you are jealous." Torvi said smiling after receiving no response from you.

"I'm not jealous of her." You fought back and she chuckled. It was too obvious that you were lying.

"You didn't really tell me what happened with Ivar after you left." She mentioned and you smiled at the memory.

Flashback – Two months ago.

Your heart was full after a very long time it felt half without him. You felt happy again being close to the person who you loved the most. Probably this wasn't the best way to come back together – not even close to be honest – but what was worth it for you was the fact that you were sitting on the passenger's seat of his car and he was on the driver's seat taking you away somewhere that only he knew.

Nobody spoke a word though – an awkward silence was surrounding the car. You didn't know what to say – you didn't know whether you had to say something or not. You knew Ivar by heart and yet you couldn't predict what was inside his head. You knew when he was mad, happy or sad, but you couldn't say what was bothering him.

"Ivar." You breathed and turned your eyes at his figure. "Do-do you love me?" Your voice was barely coming out as a whisper. It was a silly question to ask – even after he crashed your wedding and told you that he cared for you – you wanted to hear him saying this particular word. You hadn't heard him saying it – at least not to you.

"What kind of question is that? Didn't I told that I care for you less than an hour ago?" You could say by hearing the tone of his raised voice that he was getting annoyed by your question. You were aware of the fact that he wasn't good with words – especially this kind of words, but you wanted to hear him saying just for once.

"Why is it so difficult for you to say it again? Tell me, do you love me, Ivar?" You raised your voice out of frustration. You couldn't understand the reason why it had to be that hard for him to tell you about his feelings.

The possibility that he didn't feel that way came in your mind. Maybe he was just possessive when it came to you or it could be obsession the feeling he contained for you. Those could be the actual reasons why he couldn't express his love fore and that would be because it was non-existent.

"Yes!" Ivar yelled with obvious anger at you and hit his hands on the wheel.

"Yes, what?" You pressured him more as you were angry and disappointed at the time because of his inability to express himself to you – the person he was supposed to love.

Ivar hit the brake pedal so forcefully that if you weren't wearing the seatbelt you would be out of the car when it stopped. You turned your face at him and he had already focused his furious blue eyes on you.

"No, Ivar, you don't." With those last words you stormed out of his car and started walking at the opposite way from the one he was driving on. Though, you didn't get to make it far away because his hand grabbed yours tightly and forced you to turn back and face his wrath.

"What do you think you are doing? And what the Hel are you saying?" He growled on your face as you were trying to break-free from his grip to no avail.

You breathed heavily and looked his angry face.

"All you feel about me is some kind of authority and possessiveness as I'm one of your belongings." You spoke and motioned on your hand he was holding firmly. "The worst part of it is that it isn't even new to me to get this treatment from you. You don't love me, because you don't know how to and that's due to the fact that you feel that you don't deserve the love the others are trying to give you. The only thing you know how to do is hurting these people with your childish behaviour." You continued telling him with tears falling from your eyes – tears that you wiped away with your free hand.

Ivar was looking you without speaking, he was just looking at you quite shocked. Behind his anger you could spot guilt and redeem. He knew himself that you were right and that was the most painful part for both of you.

"The next one who will come in your life and try to give you the love you deserve let her." After these words, more tears threatened to fall from your eyes. You grabbed your gown on the palms of both of your hands and took a couple of tiny steps believing that Ivar would let you walk away from him – from his life.

However, such a thing didn't happen because he used the hand of yours he was gripping and pulled back – this time he held you closer to him your bodies were touching. You tried to fight back again, but he was too strong for you in such way that when he pulled you the lacework of your dress was ripped.

This time he even stopped holding your hand and he went for your throat. His grip was as tight or strong as it was on your hand, but it was firm enough to pull your face closer to his.

"Too late for that." Ivar said in raspy voice. "There is someone who has already made my heart beat for her – who have made me feel all of the things you've said before. I didn't know how it felt to be truly loved by somebody because of the problem I faced. I thought everyone pitied me – the poor cripple – until you came. You saw me what love really means – what it is – and I sent you away. When our paths crossed again, I thought that all I felt for you was just lust or possessiveness for a woman who used to be my partner. However, I got hold of my feelings – of my true feelings – after our first kiss in the bowling alley, when I called you to come to that bar to tell you about my conflict with Mason and after we got drunk and went to my house and slept together, remember? In fact, all this was just an excuse because I wanted to see you."

When he finished, Ivar let go off you throat and one of his hands touched your arm as the other when on one of his pockets. His touch was really genuine on your hand.

"I remember." You mumbled and smiled as you remembered that particular night you spent together.

"You want me to tell you that I love you, but you know that I'm difficult with words. Though, for you, I'll say it, but before I have to do something else." Ivar stopped and afterwards his hand got out of his pocket holding a red-whine velvet box.

You looked first at the box shocked and then at Ivar.

"Ivar, you don't have to do that just to prove your words to me." You tried to say, but he stopped you by taking your hand in his, after he opened the small box. As you expected, it contained a ring, but it was not just a random ring he picked. It was the ring you had told him years ago that you wanted to be the one you would be proposed with. It was a unique design which you couldn't find easily, but he did for you.

"I love you." Ivar finally confessed and you could even spot a tear on his cheek. His forehead touched your own as he eyes found yours. "Will you marry me, (Y/N) (Y/L/N)?" He asked and you smiled widely.

At the sound of his words, you felt your heart hitting your chest with just force that it was going to rip out of your body.

"Yes! Yes, I will marry you, Ivar Lothbrok!" You exclaimed and kissed him passionately. This kiss wasn't like anything you had experienced. It was different from any other you had shared. One that both of you were expressing within it your deepest feelings about the other person.

When you stopped, Ivar pulled you closer to him again and placed the ring on your finger.

End of flashback.

After that moment that you would never forget about, you spent two months away from everyone you knew. It was just the two of you in the middle of nowhere. However, you had to return back in Kattegat to face the real life and what came after the decisions you made.

Ivar's family welcomed you back and they were glad to hear about your engagement – though they could see it coming. They knew better that you two about the feelings you shared.

So, there you were, talking with Torvi about the days that came after your almost-wedding with Mason.

Torvi looked at you with narrowed eyes and a huge smile on her face.

"And after this you are still jealous? You are crazy girl!" Torvi exclaimed and both of you laughed again. "No, I am being serious now." She said and you both burst into laughter again. "No, seriously now you are getting married with the love of your life!" You smiled and looked back at your feet.

"And that's not even the end of it."

"What do you mean?" Your friend asked confused and your smile became even more wider than it was already. "(Y/N)?" She asked you again anxiously this time.

As an answer, your hand moved on your stomach and you caressed it meaningful. In Torvi's face formed a smile identical to yours.

"Don't tell me that you...." She exclaimed and you tried to prevent her from let everyone know about your little secret.

"Shhhh, I am, but Ivar doesn't know yet. I am going to tell him tonight and then we are sharing it with the others. Keep it for me, okay?" You spoke on a soft tone of voice and Torvi agreed happily before she congratulated you about your pregnancy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later that night.

The night sky was very beautiful – enchanting you could even say. But that wasn't the best part of the night, that part would be the fact that you were sitting next to your fiancé, trying to find the best way of telling him that you were expecting his child as he was engrossed in with laptop with work matters. You were away for so long and matters had piled up.

"Ivar, when do you think that we should get married?" You asked him out of the blue as you stood up and walked through the balcony. Ivar glanced at you for a quick second and then turned his attention back on his laptop.

"I don't know, but we should not rush. In three to four months, what do you think?" He proposed without looking at you and you smiled, because this conversation was taking the way you wanted.

"That won't be convenient. I think that it should happen in one or two months." You continued.

"Why so?"

"I'll have gained weight. I won't feet in any dress."

Your words caught him off guard. He abandoned the computer on the coffee-table and fixed his eyes on you confused.

"What do you mean?" Ivar asked as the edges of his mouth lifted and left the sofa to come closer to you. He stopped on when his body was behind yours.

"What do you want me to mean?"

"Don't riddle me, (Y/N)." His voice was stern and you couldn't help your little smirk. "Are you pregnant?" He asked as his body collided with yours and his muscular hands hugged your torso and stayed on your stomach. Your back was touching on his chest, so you couldn't see his facial expressions. "Tell me." He demanded impatiently and you smiled.

You knew how much he wanted a child – a daughter or a son. You were also aware of the fact that he was delighted when Freydis had told him that she was pregnant in the past and thought it was his child when it wasn't.

"Yes, Ivar." You whispered and tilted your head at the side to catch a glimpse of his reaction to your news. What you saw was a tear slipping from his eye and you smiled again. "Are you happy?"

"No." Your blood froze in your veins and your smile died on your lips. You turned so you could face him. "No, I am not just happy. I'm thrilled!" He exclaimed and you felt your heart beating normally in your chest again.

His hands closed you inside them and one of them caressed your hair softly.

"I love you, wife."

You giggled when you heard him calling you wife.

"I love you, husband."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The End ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag list: @not-another-viking-fanfic-blog, @anotherfan07, @heavenly1927, @zvacu-te-pile-moje

[underscorewriting]

Taking Care…

Ivar Ragnarsson x Reader

Warnings: none, maybe a tiny bit of angst?

Words: 844

A comfortable silence surrounded them as they watched the fire burn. Her fingers softly combing through his dark hair, making his eyes closed in satisfaction. Chuckling softly she watched him, watching how his lashes barely brushed his cheeks, how his mouth held the smallest smile, barely visible but still there. A low disproving hum escaped him as she stopped brushing through his, letting her hand just rest on top of his hair, feeling for any remaining braids she couldn't see in the light.

Opening one eye, he shot her a glare making her try to hide her giggle, placing one hand over his eyes, shushing him. Smiling softly he leaned back into her, letting her continue her work. Humming a soft tune she concentrated back on his hair, making sure it wasn't knotted anymore, before rinsing it with water again, watching the last of blood wash out of it. Biting her lip in worry of it being his own, she again thread her fingers through his hair, carefully feeling for any sign of a wound.

Softly taking her hand that was covering his eyes he brought it down to his mouth, kissing her palm lovingly, calming her nerves slightly making her sigh in relief. She was used to treating his wounds, but the ones on his head still worried her the most, not knowing what it could cause to the parts she didn't see. Still placing soft, featherly kisses on her palm and each of her finger tips, the young man couldn't help but keep his eyes closed, leaning into her touch, letting her take care of him.

They both barely said a word when he came back, just needing to feel each other close. Needing to be in the safe haven they created with one another. Tugging on his hair, she grinned down at him with a glimmer of mischievous in her eyes as his own fluttered open to find hers, his heart melting at the sight in front of him. His lover looking down at him with the most truest admiration, her lips pulled into a grin as she tugged on his hair to get his attention, not wanting to break the oh so comforting silence.

Raising an eyebrow he felt his own lips pull into a small smile. Leaning down she placed a soft kiss onto his cheek, leaving a trail of kisses in their as she made her way to his lips. Leaving tingles in their wakening, making the young king shiver slightly under her touch. As her lips finally reached his, he couldn't contain himself as he cupped the back of her neck, pulling he closer, deepening the kiss. Soft gasps slipped out of her mouth making him catch them with the kiss, smirking softly.

With heaving chests, Ivar let his hand slip onto her cheek, caressing the skin softly, making her smile tenderly at him. Her eyes held love. The love he never thought he'd receive. The love he knew was shining even brighter in his own eyes when he looked at her.

"I was so scared, Ivar." Her hand softly playing with his hair, not having the strength to find his eyes anymore. Showing weakness was something so fragile, they both still weren't sure wether it was alright for them to be so open about their fears. Ivars eyes softened as he heaved himself into the position opposite her, taking her hands. "Whatever for?" Worry settled on his features as her eyes welled with tears. Shaking her head she realized how hideous her fear was. He was Ivar the boneless, nothing could or would be able to hurt him. He was protected by the gods.

But as the months went on her fear started to settle in, more reason flooded her mind. What if the gods suddenly stopped protecting him, making him vincible, easier to hurt. More months passed and the fear was causing her many sleepless nights, making her visit the seer almost daily, slowly starting to obsess over her husbands wellbeing. Ivar was fragile, he wouldn't admit it but he was and she knew it. The whites in his eyes turning blue, his bones breaking, being her biggest fear.

A small tear slipped down her as she turned her head away from him. "You need someone strong, I shouldn't worry." Chuckling softly he pulled her onto his lap, being careful enough not to put too much weight on his legs. “What I need is for my wife to worry about me when I’m gone for battle.” His fingers now drawing small shapes softly on the outside of her thighs. A small smile now finds its way onto her face as she nuzzled her head into his neck, inhaling his scent, calming herself.

Smiling to himself Ivar began running his hair through her tangled hair, an evidence that she, again, was spending more time taking care of him and his needs than tending to her own. Placing a featherly kiss onto the top of her hair, he hushed her quietly, stopping her thoughts from torturing her.

[mrsalwayswrite]

To Call Forth Love - Chapter 18

Here it is, friends! The promised update! A massive thank you to everyone who replied to my prior post. You guys are truly the best and y'all give me the desire to finish this story.

I'll confess, this chapter is short (by my standards). I also feel like its not up to my usual quality of writing, so please give me some grace as I step back into the world of writing and remembering how to use words.

Lastly, if I missed anyone who wants to be added to the new tag list, please let me know!

Words: 3900

Warnings: Violence (both graphic and implied), swearing, Ivar still struggles with feelings

Series Masterlist

The day of reckoning had come. 

A red sun rose that morning. The locals glanced nervously at the sky and muttered under their breath at the strange sight. But Ivar knew what it meant. A blessing on this day from the old gods. 

Everything had fallen into place far more easily than he anticipated, a blessing indeed. The manipulation, the lies shared to convince the traitors to meet with him, feigned ignorance to soothe any worry of their deceptive being known. It all dripped from his lips like poisoned honey, until it was too late. Until the door was shut and a gun was pointed at their heads. Then he dropped the façade and allowed his guile to show. Only then were the traitors introduced to the truth of their failed scheme….and become close acquaintances with his knives. 

It was a day for justice.

A day for vengeance. 

And Ivar relished every moment. 

*****

Amidst the dim light leaking through the few windows into the basement, the stench of dry, stale air, piss and blood permeated. 

Two men knelt on the concrete ground before their executioner. Naked, with their clothing scattered beneath them, cut from their bodies with artful precision. Arms outstretched as in the worship, yet thick rope bound them to this position. Not as devout petitioners, but as those in bondage without even a god able to save them. 

For Armageddon had arrived, led by a blue-eyed devil with a malicious smile and blood dripping from his knives. 

Studying the one still conscious, he casually wiped the traitor's blood from his knife with a clean rag, for he refused to miss a single moment of pain or despair that was to come. 

The trial of judgment had not truly begun yet. This was only the first act. 

A vibration from his phone drew his attention away momentarily as he checked the text. A smirk adorned his face as he replaced the phone in his pocket and returned his gaze to the one before him. 

"They are here." Ivar stated, "should I wake your friend? He's been unconscious for some time now."

The traitor remained silent, his eyes staring at the gray floor, even as blood slid down his skin like raindrops. His chest rose and fell in a slow rhythm, almost as if in meditation. But Ivar knew better. The man was waiting. Biding his time. Enduring the pain until the others came.

Unfortunately for him, no amount of waiting would save him from what was to come. 

Ivar glanced over to the other man on the left. Before he had even been restrained, the man had pissed himself and was begging for mercy, crying out and spewing secrets and half-truths in the futile hope for forgiveness. At the first pass of knives over his flushed skin, he fainted. 

Fucking pathetic. 

At Ivar's command, buckets of cold water had been tossed on the sniveling coward to awaken him. He would not get away from his prescribed torment. Not that easily. Twice the man fainted while receiving his medicine. And twice Ivar had him painfully revived. This third time, Ivar allowed him longer in his brief respite. But no longer. 

The day of vengeance had arrived for those who betrayed the Lothbroks, and Ivar would see they were conscious for every moment of it. 

"Wake him up." 

At Ivar's command, his white-haired driver picked up the bucket at his feet and tossed it on the unconscious man. 

The man sputtered and gagged, returning to the land of the living and the land of his torment. Immediately he began whimpering, as if that could save him. As if anything could save him now. 

The echo of footfalls on the wooden staircase sounded in the basement. 

Ivar's smile widened as he met the pained but calm eyes of the traitor kneeling before him. "Better start fucking begging for forgiveness."

Ragnar came around the corner, followed by Lagertha and Bjorn. A gasp filled the air once they came into sight. A sound of recognition. A sound of disbelief. 

“Please! I'm sorry! He made me do it!” The coward began sobbing, his whole naked body shuddering at the strength of his cries and voice. “Please! I didn't–”

“Silence!” Ragnar roared, drawing close, eyeing both men. A predator inspecting the prey. His bright eyes glared at both men, focusing most of his anger on the one known to him. “You thought you could betray me?” He crouched before them, studying them, reading them. A devilish grin grew on his lips after a moment. “How'd that go?” 

He chuckled darkly as he stepped to the side, already knowing the outcome but here to watch the show. With a quick glance to the side, he gave permission for another to step forward and to hear the case. 

The coward continued to whimper but wisely made no move to steak. A pity really, Ivar was hoping to cut out his tongue. 

"Kalf?" Lagertha asked, coming closer. The initial look of shock faded away, leaving behind confusion and anger. A deadly combination. 

"Lagertha, there's been a misunder-" Kalf started to say but cried out in pain after Ivar hit him on the side of his head with his wolf's head cane. 

Ivar returned the cane to his side, leaning back in his plastic chair casually. "Tsk tsk. You do not speak unless spoken to." He shifted his gaze to his father's first wife. “All the evidence is on the table over there.” 

Lagertha followed the nod of Ivar's head, looking towards a table pressed against the wall. On it were stacks of papers, all the threads from the web of betrayal, cut and laid out to prove his betrayal. Every string, every conversation, every transaction, every knot in the thread. The damning evidence Ivar had been gathering for months. All there in black and white. 

With a resigned sigh, Lagertha glanced down to Ivar. “I believe you.”

Ivar nodded silently, shifting the cane from his left hand to his right, still encased in the damn cast. He had never liked Lagertha and she had never liked him. They tolerated one another but that was the extent, prefering to avoid one another's company in casual or public settings. Except when it came to business. There was an unspoken respect they harbored for one another in this one regard; and for her to take Ivar's word alone on this matter, furthered his respect for her. 

He did notice that Bjorn walked over and started leafing through the papers. Maybe his eldest brother was finally learning to use his half-wit brain. 

The fierce businesswoman moved to stand in front of her lover, seemingly uncaring of the splatters of blood and shredded clothing under her heeled boots. “Why?”

He opened his mouth, eyes full of hurt and hope, but before any sounds escaped, she cut him off. 

“Do not lie to me, Kalf.” She practically snarled, a she-wolf rising in fury, with no sight of a heartbroken lover. 

He gazed at her, tone beseeching. “I did it for us.”

Her hand moved so fast that even Ivar did not catch it until the loud sound of a smack echoed in the basement, followed by Kalf's grunt as his head jerked to the side. 

“If you did it for us, you would have included me in your schemes.”

Kalf worked his jaw before returning his gaze to his lover. “I planned on it, but–” 

Another smack reverberated in the air. 

“Try again.” Lagertha spat out. 

Ivar could see it. The moment Kalf's pretense swiftly crumbled. His face hardened, eyes switching from a hopeful innocence to angry slits. His body tensed as if preparing to fight back, to finally show some spine and no longer take the abuse. 

“I knew we could run the organization better. Make more money and be unstoppable. But I knew…I fucking knew you'd never leave Ragnar. You'd never leave his side because you'll always be his side bitch. So I did what I had to.” Kalf grinned but there was no humor. Blood darkened his teeth, giving him a monstrous look. “Does that make you feel better, baby? I'd have given you everything but you'll always run back to Ragnar. You never stopped loving him, you just got better at hiding it. What a fucking waste. I would have made you a queen!” 

Lagertha yanked out a pistol from the holster on her thigh and aimed it at Kalf's head. Hand steady. Lips in a thin line. Eyes focused on him. A she-wolf ready for the kill. 

Kalf chuckled darkly. “You won't do it, my love. You don't like getting your hands dirty.”

Ivar waited to see the outcome. Ragnar already commanded that Lagertha was to choose Kalf's fate. A fucking waste in Ivar's opinion but he relented. Hopefully he would be given the other one, an example needed to be made. Although the other man was only the accountant to scrub the books and try to hide the betrayal, not the mastermind that Kalf was, he was still involved. That was enough to earn his death. Preferably at Ivar's hands. 

But Kalf's death would be decided by Lagertha. 

Ragnar and Bjorn watched from the sidelines, witnesses to the impending justice against their organization and family. Holding a paper in each hand, fury coated Bjorn's face, understanding of the undermining that had been allowed to run rampant for too long, especially by one he trusted. With arms crossed and an impassive expression, Ragnar watched on. When Ivar caught his eye, he received a nod but returned his gaze to the show, waiting for his ex wife to make a decision. All the papers and what they represented were already reviewed by Ragnar as Ivar discovered the treachery.  

After a long tense moment, a gun shot rang out. Almost deafening in the small basement. Yet no one flinched. The sound as familiar as birdsong for those still breathing. 

Surprise and pleasure flooded through Ivar as the coward's head lolled loosely, brains blown out and splattered on the wall and floor. Payment for his crime painted for all to see.

Kalf jerked his head to look at his accomplice and then back to his lover, confusion and shock in the lines of his face.  

“You shouldn't have dragged Philippe into your mess.” Lagertha calmly said, replacing her pistol at her thigh. “Ivar, he's all yours. Do with him what you want.” She took a step back. “Good bye, Kalf.” Then with the poise of a queen, she turned on her heel and headed back up the stairs, washing her hands of her former lover and his demise. 

In the next moment, a hand landed on Ivar's shoulder. “Good work.” His father commended. He gave him one more fatherly pat before following Lagertha up the stairs. 

Ivar grimaced as he knew his father was following his first wife to help her blow off some steam. Something that happened but no one spoke of. 

A different set of footsteps came to his other side. As Ivar looked up at his eldest brother, a grimace on his own face at his parents, echoed Ivar's own sentiments. With a shake of his head, Bjorn looked down at Kalf who had gone suspiciously silent and still. 

“I thought she would shoot you…guess she thought that was too fucking easy for you.”

Kalf spat out a bloody mess towards Bjorn's leather shoes, eyes blazing and fresh blood trickled down his chin. 

“Have fun with that one.” Bjorn said. “And try to keep your cast clean. Fuck, you'll never get all that blood out.”

“I'll get a new fucking one. Fucking hell.”

“Fine.” Bjorn crossed his arms over his broad chest. “What are you going to do with him?”

Ivar shrugged, examining the man like a piece of marble waiting to be sculpted. “Cut off each of his own fingers and make him eat them?”

“That's disgusting.” Bjorn shuddered. “Don't take too long. We need you in Spain. We got a call on the way here.”

“What happened?” 

“I'll fill you in after your fun, but it sounds like you'll be there a few days.”

“Okay.”

The eldest Lothbrok son opened his mouth for a moment, then stopped to lick his lips before starting quietly again. “Have you…have you heard from her yet?”

There was only one her that Bjorn could possibly be referring to and it made Ivar's blood boil even as his heart shattered. 

“Shut the fuck up.” Ivar seethed, fingering the head of his cane, wondering how much trouble he would get in if he broke Bjorn's shins by striking him.

As if sensing the impending violence, Bjorn backed away. “Call me when you're done here.”

Ivar grunted, still beyond pissed his brother would bring her up right now. 

“You know…my mom mentioned that Kalf had an almost irrational fear of fire.” 

At Bjorn's lazy comment, Kalf's head lifted to stare at Ivar, face blanched and eyes wide with panic. 

A truly ferocious grin appeared on the youngest Lothbrok's face at the pure terror radiating from the man before him. Even when his flesh had been pierced with Ivar's knives, beaten with Ivar's cane, the man had endured without fear. Oh, but the sweet scent of terror that radiated off him now…

Ivar barely heard Bjorn's retreating footsteps up the stairs. He turned to look at his driver, his long white hair tied back, highlighting his cruel scar on the side of his face. 

“Toss me your lighter.”

Pleas for mercy tainted the air, but not for long.

*********

As he stepped out of the elevator, it took all of his mental capability to keep his feet moving purposefully and his gait steady. His eyes were gritty and dry from lack of sleep, his body threatened to revolt against his restless mind and collapse in desperate need of rest. He refused to acknowledge it, propelling himself forward. After this one last meeting, he would allow himself to give in and seek the rest his body so desperately needed. 

Ignoring those scurrying around, he passed the several offices on the top floor of Ragnarssons Trading. The scowl he wore must have been fearsome for how quickly it made those plebeians scatter out of his way. Wise on their part. He was in no mood for empathy or kindness, traits he was not commonly known for anyway. He just wanted to fucking sleep. The temptation to stab anyone who tried to stop him was exceptionally high. 

“You live!” 

“Fuck off.” Ivar grumbled, more out of habit than true ill intent. Well, if he tried to stop him, there may be some violence. 

Falling into step with him, Hvitserk looked smart in his gray suit, a clear contrast from Ivar's own rumpled jeans with t-shirt and leather jacket. “How was Spain? No, wait, you were just in Morocco. Or was it Turkey again?” 

“India.”

“Hmm…What I heard, you've spent more time in dungeons and airplanes than in a bed. Those bags under your eyes make you look like a zombie. Ah hell, when did you last sleep?”

Ivar grunted, annoyed with his brother's ceaseless chatter and the reminder of his lack of self-care. “Father in his office?”

“I think so. I was about to go for a late lunch. Want me to wait for you?”

“No, I'd probably fall asleep before the food came.”

Hvitserk chuckled but did not dispute the claim. 

The pair arrived at the door for Ragnar's office. With a quick knock on the wood and a following ‘enter’, Hvitserk opened the door for them. 

Ragnar sat at his large desk, an organized chaos to all the things upon it. Scattered papers and files resided in piles, along with a cheap, tourist paper map of Stockholm spread out and a bronzed human skull which Ragnar refused to admit if it was real or not. Ivar had always bet it was real. 

Torstein also occupied the room, standing behind the desk beside Ragnar, pointing at the laptop screen open in front of them. They must have been continuing speaking of logistics for a particular expansion of goods into Stockholm. 

At their entrance, Ragnar kept his gaze on the screen while addressing him. “I thought you were coming in tomorrow?”

“I can just as easily report today.” Ivar ungraciously plopped into one of the leather chairs in front of Ragnar's desk. He winced at the impact and the sharp pain shooting down his legs. With more care, he set his right hand, still in the cast, on the arm rest. 

At Ivar's audible pained inhale, Ragnar aimed his piercing gaze at his youngest son. “You look like shit.”

Ivar snorted. “The devil doesn't sleep and neither do I.”

That made Ragnar smirk and Torstein chuckle. From the other seat beside him, Ivar could feel Hvitserk's eye roll. Everyone knew that Ivar had been running himself ragged, anything to keep himself busy, which usually involved his face glued to a computer or phone screen or blood on his hands. Ever since Kalf's fall from grace and his fiery demise, Ivar had been cauterizing the wound left in the company…and reminding people what happened when they placed themselves on the Lothbrok's bad side. 

“Suit yourself. Tor, finish this and I'll make a phone call–” Ragnar spoke to his friend but Ivar tuned him out. 

He closed his eyes, dropping his chin to his chest as he waited. His father was not wrong. He felt like shit. Then again, he had felt like shit for the past three weeks now, ever since Kari had told him she needed space. So he focused on what he could do for the family business. Anything to distract himself from what his heart yearned for. During this time, he learned it was easier to feel physically shitty and move on. It was much harder to ignore and move on when his heart was fractured and bleeding her name. 

Eyes closed, his mind began to drift lazily like an autumn leaf, thoughts moving at a sluggish pace due to his exhaustion. He had tried to sleep in his car on the way here from the airport but sleep eluded him- still too wound up from the flight, too many cigarettes and too much caffeine. The trifecta of sleep deprivation. He never slept on planes, even on private planes, he could never relax enough. Especially when they flew over open water. 

A buzzing from his pocket jerked him out of his almost meditative state. Without opening his eyes, he dug around in his pocket and pulled his personal phone out. Only a few people had his private number, preferring to direct most of his calls to his work phone, which lay silent in his other pocket. 

“‘eah?” He mumbled amidst a sudden yawn. 

A hesitant but professional male voice spoke. “Mr Lothbrok?” 

“Huh?”

“Is this–ah, is this Ivar Lothbrok?”

His brain awoke on full alert at the implementation that a stranger had his personal number. “Who the fuck are you?” Those sluggish thoughts went into overdrive, trying to recognize the voice or how this fucker got a hold of his number. 

“I'm Nurse Olsen, calling from the General Hospital. A patient we have gave us your name and number as an emergency contact. My apologies for bothering you, we just needed to verify. Do you know a Kari Larsen?”

What racing thoughts died a spectacular death by crashing into a wall of shock and disbelief. 

Someone was calling him about Kari. 

As an emergency contact. 

From a hospital. 

Where she is a patient. 

A PATIENT!

In a strange form of whiplash, his brain went from a screeching halt in shock to overdrive of all the reasons she could possibly be in the hospital, each scenario worse than its predecessor. “Is she hurt?” He wheezed out, as his heart and lungs threatened to be strangled with the sudden fear that exploded within him. 

“Sir, I'm not allowed to discuss patients’ wellbeings over the phone–”

“IS SHE HURT?!” He screamed, the building panic in his chest rising higher and higher, suffocating him. 

His mind easily conjured her laying in a hospital bed, nurses and doctors swarming her like parasites, sticking tubes in her, cleaning up her precious blood, all in an attempt to save her. She laid there unconscious to her precarious position. Or maybe she was screaming for him. That was how they got his number. She needed him as she lay dying. 

He drew a ragged breath but it failed to relieve the painful pressure in his chest. Gods, if she died….he promised. He promised to take care of her. 

A new level of loathing sunk its claws into him, a demon from the darkest pits burrowed into his mind, taunting, tormenting. 

He had promised. 

And he failed. 

Again. 

“Mr Lothbrok, are you able to come to the hospital?” The nurse sighed before speaking again. 

“Yes.” He croaked out. 

“Excellent, what you can do is park–”

But the nurse's explanation was cut off as Ivar ended the call. 

Ivar stumbled to his feet, grabbing the edge of the desk to steady himself. The floor beneath him shifted and rolled like waves. Or maybe it was the demon cackling in his ears, messing with his equilibrium. Spots danced in his vision but he ignored them, pushing past. He had to get to her. He had to see her. Was his heart even beating anymore? His chest burned, each breath a struggle to take. As he tried to slip his phone back into his pocket, he realized his hands were shaking. Or was it his whole body?  

What exhaustion previously had taken root was brutally ripped out and replaced with a buzzing, paralyzing panic. 

“Ivar? What happened?” Hvitserk's voice broke through. His hands grabbed his younger brother's shoulders, saving him from falling in his unstable haste to move. “Ivar?!”

“I–I have to go to the hospital.” Tears welled in his eyes, that terror and panic finally having risen to his mind, strangling his rationality, constricting his thoughts until all he could think of was Kari and he failed. 

“What happened? Oh shit. Is…was that about Kari?” Hvitserk's eyes widened in horror. 

“She's there.” Ivar gasped, weakly pushing his brother aside, hands still shaking. ”She's there right now. I have to go– fuck, I've got to see her.” 

Stumbling, forcing himself faster than his crippled legs would allow, to escape the way his chest was collapsing even as he fought for breath, fought for each step. He had to see her. There was no other option. 

She had to be okay. His kitten. He refused. He fucking refused to believe she was dying, even as his mind continued to create horrific scenes. 

This was not how he wanted to be reunited with her. 

Hvitserk grabbed his arm, steadying his erratic pace. “I'm coming with you.”

Gratitude swelled within Ivar but the panic clogging his throat refused to let the words pass. 

The two rushed into the hallway, as fast as Ivar's crippled legs would allow. Hvitserk already had his phone out, calling Ivar's driver to have his car ready at the front for them. At the pounding footfalls behind them, Ivar glanced over his shoulder to see Ragnar following like an intimidating guardian angel. 

Ragnar snarked. “Hurry your ass up or I'll carry you on my back like when you were a boy.”

“You're too fragile, old man.” Ivar managed to retort. 

“Shut the fuck up, you little asshole, and let's go get your girl.”

As the three of them hurried out of the building, the same thought swirled like a growing storm in his mind. 

Hold on, Kari, I'm coming. Just please hold on. 

Tag List:

@southernbe @tessakate @ivarlover @nothingtolosebutweight @beautifulweaselplaidsalad @noway4u @cdauni @istorkyou @ringpopdust @lotr-got

[my-amazing-nerdyness]

I wasn't tagged but saw one and thought it was a fun idea. @tickedtimebomb @soulkitties @kategorically-challenged @thecrazycatfish @simonrillleyyysss

I'm tagging you guys since you were the last ones to like or reblog something❤️

[peaceisadirtyword]

Pull the Trigger IX (Modern!Ivar/Reader)

A/N: Hello! A bit late, sorry! I just got home🥲 I’ll try to post the next chapter as soon as I can🫶🏼

Warnings: mild smut👀 mentions of past abuse, mentions of alcohol, anxiety... 

Words: 4412

Read on AO3

Fic masterlist 

Alfred had cancelled on you. Apparently, he had missed an important date with Elsewith and he had gotten a last minute reservation on a very expensive place to apologise. You understood, but couldn’t help but sigh in disappointment when you saw his text. Thora was out with Hvitserk again. Since they had formalised their relationship it was almost like they spent even more time together than before. She had insisted on staying with you, but you practically forced her to go, feeling too guilty for having ruined her big night some days ago.

Almost a week had passed, and you had hoped you could talk to Alfred about what Ivar had said to you. You hadn’t had the chance to do it earlier, as the last time you saw him you had spent hours crying because of Erik. You had never seen Alfred so angry at someone, and while it was comforting, you still were overthinking Ivar’s words.

But then again, he didn’t contact you anymore. He wasn’t in class that week, and he was nowhere to be found on campus. You had his number and could have easily texted him, but then again you didn’t know what to say.

Because you weren’t sure of what he had said.

He was at Valhalla. You knew it because Ingrid had texted you, telling you she had seen him inside when she had entered, and you had tried to convince yourself you didn’t care, but a part of you couldn’t stop thinking about it. You had gone through Ubbe’s posts on social media until you found him at the background of one of his videos. Sigurd had also posted things but as the brothers couldn’t stand each other you didn’t bother to look for Ivar in his videos. Thora had told you they’d head to Valhalla around midnight, so you kept glancing at the clock, knowing that Hvitserk was the one that would post the pictures of Ivar, given they were the closest ones. 

You just wanted to see him, to see he was okay, because even if you had tried your best not to acknowledge it, you missed him. You would be forever mad for not remembering most part of that night, when you had slept in his bed and he had taken care of you. The simple thought made you feel something strange that was both worrying and comforting at the same time.

Taking a deep breath, you got up from the couch and entered the bathroom for a quick shower. The horrible movie you were watching was forgotten as you entered your room, immediately opening your wardrobe to try and find something to wear. After almost crying a few times, you decided on a black velvet dress. It was short and had cleavage, not quite what you’d usually wear for a night out, but Valhalla wasn’t a normal club and it was very far from your usual trusted bar, so you put on some thighs and your favourite tall boots that Thora had gifted you last Christmas because of how many times you’d ask her for hers. 

After frowning at your own reflection for a good ten minutes before moving back to the bathroom to wash your face and put some makeup on. Half an hour later you were ready, picking up your phone, wallet and keys and quickly turned off the TV and the lights, leaving your flat before you could change your mind.

Calling an Uber was way more than your bank account could afford, so you took the bus and walked towards the club, hoping Ivar would still be there when you managed to get in. It was cold, and the slow queue didn’t help. You checked your phone a few times until you realised the battery was very low. Thora had messaged you, asking if everything was okay, you replied quickly, telling her you were fine and debating whether you should tell her you were at the club or not.

But just when you were going to do so, the doorman called you. The rest of the queue looked at you up and down, some of them with annoyance and even hatred, but you didn’t say a word as the doorman lifted the rope, letting you in.

Flashbacks of the first time you stepped into that club made you take a deep breath as you left your coat on the wardrobe next to the door and thanked the girl that took it with a tense smile. You didn't even know what you were doing there, you didn’t know what you would say to Ivar if you could talk to him. You made your way to the VIP zone, your heart racing when you saw Whitehair. Wherever he was, Ivar was never too far away.

Your eyes finally found him. He was standing, leaning on his crutch and with a drink on his other hand. But you stopped walking towards him when you saw who he was talking to.

It was a woman, a tall, beautiful woman with brown hair. You could only see her back, but your mouth dried when you saw her curves, hugged by a beautiful red dress. You were sure she was stunning, and Ivar was so close to her, talking to her…

You felt like throwing up, suddenly you were the idiot that had come all the way to Valhalla to talk to him after not hearing from him in days. Thinking he liked you.

Looking around, feeling the tears fill your eyes, you took a deep breath. Should you get a drink or just go home?.

When you looked back towards Ivar, you found his eyes. He looked surprised to see you there, and you could see his lips saying your name, but you turned around and left for the toilets, unable to face him at that moment. Then you heard him calling you a bit louder, but you were already entering the women’s toilet and ignored him. Great, now he knew you were there. That was even more humiliating.

There were two girls inside the bathroom, talking cheerfully as they retouched their makeup, who looked at you as soon as you barged in, clearing your throat. They looked at you up and down, frowning, but you didn’t even look at them, running your hand through your hair and taking another deep breath.

Your relief didn’t last, as someone else entered the bathroom and startled the girls.

“You” Ivar pointed at them “Out”

They didn’t say a word. Instead, they grabbed their things and left quickly, barely glancing at you as they closed the door behind them.

“This is the girls’ bathroom” you said, looking anywhere but at him.

“I don’t care, toilets don’t have a gender” he replied, annoyed.

“Someone could enter…”

“Whitehair is outside” he interrupted you, shrugging “What are you doing here?”

“I don’t even know” you muttered, turning back to the mirror to try and fix your makeup “I guess I wanted to talk to you”

“Did anything happen?” he frowned in confusion “Did Erik…?”

“No, don’t say his name” you sighed “No, not everything is about him, I just wanted to talk to you because you said things the last time I saw you that I… Have been thinking about it, but I don’t know what to think and it’s killing me, but then I come here and I see you with someone else and I realise I’m an idiot and you probably didn’t mean what I thought you meant and now I really want to be alone…”

“Wait, wait, slow down” he frowned, interrupting you “Someone else?”

“Yes, the girl you were talking to, I just… I misunderstood what you told me the other day, it’s my fault, now if you excuse me…”

“Wait, let me talk” he grabbed your arm as soon as you tried to walk towards the door “That girl you saw me talk to is my sister”

You felt as if someone just threw a bucket with ice and water all over you.

“Your… Sister?”

“Yes, well, my half sister, Gyda” he shrugged “She’s my dad’s daughter but her mother is Lagertha, she’s Björn’s sister, she lives in Hedeby with her mother but she came to Kattegat to visit us”

“I…” you groaned again, closing your eyes. If you thought nothing could be more humiliating than thinking Ivar was with someone else when you came to see him, you were wrong “Sorry, I… Never saw your sister before”

“Were you jealous?”

Flustered, you looked away again. Ivar had a smirk on his lips and his cocky expression only made you want to hit him really hard.

“No” you scoffed “I’m just… I didn’t want to interrupt you”

“Well, you did interrupt me with your dramatic escape and making me chase you” he chuckled “I’m not complaining, though”

Rolling your eyes, you finally looked at him, realising you couldn’t escape now and had to tell him exactly what you had come to tell him.

“The other day…” you sighed “You said you cared about me”

He hummed, nodding his head and almost pouting. His eyes were widened and you had to force yourself to stop looking into them.

“I’m not sure I understand what you meant by that”

Ivar sighed, rubbing his face with his free hand.

“You are dense sometimes, did you know that?”

You gasped, offended.

“And you are rude” you replied, scoffing.

“I was going to kiss you” he ignored you “And you still don't understand what I meant?”

You were left speechless. It was true that you had thought about it, but there was a part of you that insisted that it couldn’t be true. That you weren’t the kind of girl Ivar Lothbrok would like.

“I didn’t know if I had imagined it or not, I just…”

“Can I kiss you?” he interrupted you again, and you blinked a couple of times “Now, so you stop talking”

“Okay, you are very rude, and if this is your way of flirting let me tell you it won’t…”

You didn’t get to finish that sentence, because Ivar leant in to press his lips against yours. You gasped in surprise, but closed your eyes as soon as he deepened the kiss, his free hand landed on your waist, and you let yourself relax between his body and the sink behind you. His lips were warm, and tasted a bit like alcohol and cigarettes, but they were sweet and softer than you had imagined. Because you had imagined it. Even though no one of your daydreams was nearly as good as the actual kiss. You almost felt like you had never been kissed before, and his scent felt almost intoxicating when you breathed into it.

Ivar hummed against your lips, making you sigh at the sound. You weren’t sure of when exactly you started to like Ivar that much but you felt unable to kiss anyone else after that kiss, especially when he broke it, moving away just a few centimetres just to chuckle and give you a small peck before you could even open your eyes.

His blue eyes were the first thing you saw when you finally opened yours, and you could feel the heat underneath your skin and hear your accelerated heartbeat. You wondered, embarrassed, if he could also notice.

“Sorry, I just have wanted to do that for a long time” he said, tilting his head with his smirk back on his lips. You cleared your throat.

“That was also very rude of you”

“It was also very rude of you to interrupt my conversation with my sister” he shrugged “We’re even”

“I didn’t interrupt it, I…”

“You did, by running away after getting my attention, jealous” he leant in again to whisper against your ear. You didn’t know if he put that with many other girls, but it was definitely working because you almost moaned “And wearing this”

His free hand, which he had leant on the sink to support his weight, tugged at your dress, making you look down.

“I had to wear it because otherwise I wouldn’t have entered your elitist, corrupted club”

He laughed then, shaking his head.

“The doorman knows who you are, you would get in even if you were wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants”

“Well, I decided not to risk it” you shrugged, trying not to overthink his words -because if you did you would probably start hyperventilating.

Ivar smiled again. Obviously he had drunk, being way more relaxed than you had ever seen him. Was that the real Ivar?

“I thought you wouldn’t want to talk to me” you bit your lip “I thought you hated me”

“I beat up a guy that drugged you, Y/N”

“Yes, but that’s just your mob boss complex”

“I’m going to ignore that”

“But you called me a bitch” you crossed your arms, forcing him to move slightly backwards “And you said my life was worthless”

Ivar sighed, nodding and closing his eyes.

“You really got on my last nerve, but you’re lucky, others ended up dead for less”

You rolled your eyes, an amused smile on your lips.

“Stop doing that, I don’t believe you, you act like you’re all dangerous, cruel and heartless but there you were taking care of me when I couldn’t even walk, you’re just a normal guy”

Ivar shrugged, but he didn’t look bothered by your comment. In some way, you could see why so many people were afraid of him, he could be intimidating. But he had just asked for permission to kiss you and then had interrupted you with a kiss… He couldn’t be that bad.

“That’s the point” he licked his lips, shrugging again “I’m not meant to be dangerous to you”

“I’m serious”

“About what?”

“You act like that but then you come to my house to bring me my clothes and see if I’m okay, and then you start yelling and almost kiss me but then don’t talk to me for days…”

“Isn’t it obvious, Y/N?”

You knew it was obvious, but at the same time it was too obvious to be real. Everything seemed more of a fantasy you had built inside your head in which Ivar Lothbrok liked you even before you talked to each other for the first time. And for some reason that thought didn’t bother you, quite the contrary, it made you fluster and smile like an idiot.

“No, I want you to say it” you took a deep breath “Loud and clear, no indirects”

Ivar looked taken aback, almost like no one had ever asked him to talk about his feelings before. Looking around, he stepped back, suddenly nervous. He felt his mouth drying and a strange feeling in his stomach. He was nervous. Him, who had killed people in cold blood, who dealt with terrifying people that doubled his age and experience, who had had guns pointed at him and his brothers and that was used to deal with people that wanted him dead was a nervous wreck in front of a girl that asked him to talk about his feelings for her.

Well, it wasn’t just a girl, it was you.

Ivar still remembered the first time he had seen you. Sitting next to Alfred, you were frowning down at your notes and comparing them with his while he laughed. Then he had seen you many times around campus, you were all the time with Thora or Alfred, but whenever you were alone he never dared to approach you. Until one day Hvitserk saw him looking at you, and Ivar had made him look at your friend. She’s cute, Hvitserk had said, but his smirk had told him he had liked her.

And then he only had to wait. Ivar hoped you’d never heard about the fifty kroner he gave to that girl that sat next to him to go up and seat next to Alfred. Just to have you close, as he knew it was the only time you’d be close to him.

He was glad to see he had been wrong for the first time in his life.

“I…” he cleared his throat, his heart was beating so hard against his chest that he was afraid of you hearing it, and also of having a heart attack “I care for you”

You raised your eyebrow.

“Is that all I’m getting? After you barging into my house to yell how you tricked your brother into dating my best friend because you couldn’t talk to me”

Ivar couldn’t believe you had memorised his exact words.

“I didn’t barge, you invited me in”

“That’s not the point”

Ivar took a deep breath, and when his blue eyes looked right into yours again you almost groaned out loud.

“I like you, Y/N” he said. It was the first time you saw him being somewhat vulnerable. His cheeks were reddened, he kept biting his lower lip softly, looking everywhere but at you, his head down. Almost like a teenager waiting for a scolding.

You couldn’t help your lips curving softly with a smile. You also felt flustered. Hell, your heart was beating so fast you could barely hear anything over it. Ivar gulped, suddenly watching you carefully. Please, don’t laugh, don’t make fun of me.

He didn’t like to feel vulnerable or open, he didn’t want anyone knowing he liked you, not even you, because it was the only effective weapon that could really hurt him.

“So you’re not heartless after all”

It was a mere whisper, but he heard you perfectly fine, even if he didn’t reply. What was he supposed to say? That you couldn’t tell anyone? That it was fine if you didn’t feel the same?. He skipped all of that during his teenage years and had no idea of how he was supposed to react.

But he didn’t need to. Suddenly you approached him, making him freeze and grab his crutch tighter than ever. He’d swear he heard it crack, but he didn’t really care because you grabbed his neck and pulled him down as you got on your tiptoes, kissing him.

It was almost like your warm lips melted him. Literally. Ivar couldn’t recall a moment in which he had felt so hot. He leant against the closest wall he had, letting the crutch fall to the floor just to touch you with both hands. You glanced at the thrown crutch quickly, but his lips against your jaw and travelling down your neck distracted you. He was intoxicating, warm, his scent made you dizzy and the way he was kissing you… His lips captured your upper lip, and he kissed you with urgency, passion and need, almost like he’d die if he stopped.

You weren’t complaining, though. His hands had found their way to your ass, but they kept touching you everywhere, leaving a warm, tickly path behind. You jumped and gasped when his fingers brushed against the bare skin of your legs, and Ivar seemed to find that amusing. His hand was warm when he finally touched your thigh, and you felt a familiar wave travel down your lower belly and sex. You only broke the kiss to catch air for a couple of seconds before kissing him again. This time your hands travelled down his neck and shoulders, letting yourself touch his chest, hard and muscular from carrying his own weight for his whole life. Just when your hand reached his belt and his was already under your dress getting closer and closer, someone knocked on the door, startling you.

Then you realised you were about to have sex with Ivar Lothbrok in a public bathroom. Your last week self would have been very scandalised.

Stepping away, you turned to look at yourself in the mirror. Your lips were reddened and swollen and you were thankful for not having worn lipstick. Your eyes were teary and your makeup was a bit ruined, but you only smudged it a bit with your fingers and hoped everyone would be too drunk and it would be too dark to notice.

Ivar reached for his crutch, raising his voice to let Whitehair know he was fine. You wondered whether you should help and reach his crutch for him, but he managed just fine, knowing exactly which movements he needed to do. When he was standing again, he looked at you. His expression was softer. You couldn’t remember the expression he had when he had taken care of you, but you liked to think it was the same one.

“Ubbe is probably freaking out because I left” he shrugged “Do you want a drink?”

“I… Think I should go home” you cleared your throat “It’s late”

Ivar raised an eyebrow.

“I’ll take you home later”

You didn’t even try to argue, because you knew you’d stay. For some reason, you wanted to spend a bit more time with that new Ivar you were discovering. The one that didn’t act like a pretentious asshole.

His soft expression disappeared as soon as he opened the door. Whitehair looked at him and then at you, frowning and clenching his jaw. You couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at him, making Ivar clear his throat and grab your arm quickly. The people queuing at the door didn’t say anything, but looked at you up and down and you instantly knew all of Kattegat would know you had been locked in a toilet with Ivar Lothbrok by morning.

You did smirk at Whitehair when you finally stepped in the VIP zone as he stayed at the entrance with a frown in his already harsh face. You could feel some people staring and just when you were thinking about texting both Thora and Ingrid to let them know you were there, someone practically tackled you, making you yelp and almost fall to the floor. Thora squealed in excitement and you could tell she had already had a few drinks when she looked at you, her cheeks reddened and a stupidly wide smile on her lips.

“You’re here!” she jumped next to you. Ivar glared at her, rolling his eyes, but Hvitserk asked him something and his attention diverted soon enough “Where were you? Ubbe told us you were here but that you disappeared suddenly… I was worried! Do you want a drink? Ingrid is here too!”

“Wow” you chuckled, grabbing her shoulders to keep her in place “Sorry, I had to go to the toilet… I found him on my way back and he told me you were here”

“Him being Ivar” she giggled, almost like it was a joke you didn’t get “Okay, a drink?”

You nodded, if you had to deal with the entire Lothbrok clan and drunk Thora you might as well get even.

You didn’t get a second to breathe, as soon as Thora left to grab you a drink, someone else approached.

She was even more stunning up close. Gyda had a beautiful, long hair that seemed to be brown but was darkened by the lowlights of the club. She wore a beautiful and probably very expensive red dress that you’d swear you had seen on some runway on YouTube. When the lights illuminated her face you could distinguish greenish eyes, more similar to Hvitserk than to Ivar’s, but you couldn’t tell the exact colour.

She shot you a big smile. She was older, older than you and Ivar, maybe in her thirties already, but she could have been twenty-five and you wouldn’t have been surprised. You only realised you were staring with your mouth agape until she spoke.

“Hello, you must be Y/N” she grabbed your hand enthusiastically “I’m Gyda, I’m Ivar’s sister… Half-sister” she chuckled “It’s great to finally meet you, I’ve heard a lot about you these days! Mostly from the boys teasing Ivar, but they were only good things, don’t worry”

You wondered what good things the Lothbrok brothers had to say about you, but decided to ignore it and smiled back at her shyly.

“Hi” you nodded “Yes, I’m Y/N, it’s great to meet you too”

“Wow, you’re really pretty” she looked almost excited, her eyes scanning you up and down, then she giggled “Ivar already said it, but I don’t trust his taste very often so I’m surprised, but you’re beautiful, I love your dress!”

“Why, thank you” you chuckled nervously, feeling mortified as her smile widened even more.

“Hvitserk told me you’re giving my littlest brother a hard time… Whatever you’re doing, he probably deserves it so you have my full support!”

“Okay, Gyda, that’s enough, thank you so much” an annoyed Ivar appeared beside you, glaring at his sister. She winked at you, amused, before turning around and leaving. You turned to Ivar with a frown.

“What are you telling your family about me?” you narrowed your eyes, Ivar rolled his eyes and sighed.

“Only your terrible taste in men and your inability to pay attention in class”

You scoffed, but your lips curved in a smile.

“Someone is calling you” he pointed at the bar, where Thora tried to grab your attention to point at the drink on her hand. Hvitserk looked more in love than ever next to her.

“I better go before she drinks it” you grimaced.

“Okay”

A moment of silence. Ivar looked at you with his soft expression that had disappeared as soon as you had left the toilet, but before you could act on your instincts and kiss him again, he turned around, going back to the couch where Ubbe was sitting talking to some people you didn’t know.

“Ivar” you reached to grab his hand before he could get too far, and the both of you froze almost instantly, realising what you had done. When he turned to look at you he had a surprised look on his face, which you were sure mirrored your own “Um… Thank you”

You didn’t specify why but he already knew. He nodded slowly as you let his hand go, hurrying to the bar where Thora waited for you. Ivar let himself fall on the couch next to his brother, looking around to make sure no one had seen that. Then he looked down, hoping the darkness would hide the stupid smile he had on his face.

Because it had been the first time you had called him by his name.

___________________________________

Tags:  @istorkyou  @barnes-lothbrok  @naaladareia  @youbloodymadgenius @southernbe  @yummycastiel @nothingtolosebutweight @noway4u @cdauni @heavenly1927 @ivarhoegh @biancathecool @helleiaiwritting @marvelsangels @ironynoticony @kenyadakblalock @mymindfuckery @alexa4040​ @tessakate @ivarlover​ @vannabanana1995​ @darksoulgemx @mynameisiliana​

I hope I didn’t forget anyone💔 thank you so much for reading🫶🏼

Ps. I will try and reply to all the comments this time!

[the-knight-of-kisses]

Athelstan, helping Ragnar's sons cram for an exam: Sigurd: Sweet Jesus, it's morning already! What are we going to do? Athelstan: Well, maybe we could start with calming down. Sigurd: Calm down? We're still on William The Conqueror, priest! We haven't so much looked at the famine! Athelstan: You've got the gist. They ran out of food. Ivar: Well, I can't tell my rebellions from my risings. Athelstan, getting stressed: And whose fault's that? If you lot had stopped invading us for five fucking minutes there'd be a lot less to wade through, you Viking prick!

[istorkyou]

The Price Of Love (Modern!Ivar AU)

A Modern!Ivar x F Reader

Warnings - See individual chapters. STRICTLY 18+

Synopsis - Money isn’t everything.

Word Count - 1584

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

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

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

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

Masterpost

CHAPTER 15

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—————

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

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

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

“What’s this?” He looks in disbelief.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Open it,” he urges you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Just for future reference, I will say yes.

THE END - thanks for reading :)

[hoteldreamss]

Everything is for real

ivar the boneless || imagine || часть 7

все части

Метки: приставание Ивара; дети; Фрейдис.

Слов: 4 497

По словам Ивара, вы не должны были ничего особенного делать до Рождества. Двадцать пятого декабря вы должны поужинать с его семьёй, но до этого ты и он могли проводить время друг с другом.

Завтра вам двоим, придётся вылезти из кровати и провести время за семейным ужином, но сейчас ты лежала рядом с ним, чувствуя его тепло и наслаждаясь мягкостью постели.

Ивар дремал рядом с тобой, обнимая тебя за талию и прижимаясь своей грудью к твоей спине. Он всё ещё спал в одном нижнем белье, но ты всё ещё спала в штанах и футболке. Твой парень не высказывал недовольств касаемо твоей одежды, и ты тоже перестала быть недовольной внутри себя его внешним видом. Ты видела теперь чуть больше плюсов в его желании быть лишь в нижнем белье.

— Я голодная, — произносишь ты, когда шевелишься в его объятиях и знаешь, что он не погружён в глубокий сон.

— Я тоже, — выдаёт Ивар, и ты невольно слабо улыбаешься.

Он утыкается носом в заднюю часть твоей шеи. Твой знакомый и приятный запах наполняет его лёгкие. Ладонь Ивара перемещается с твоей талии на край твоей футболки, он подлезает под неё и тогда, ты чувствуешь его тёплые прикосновения к твоей коже.

Твоё лёгкое возбуждение не заставляет себя ждать. Но ты не можешь сейчас позволить Ивару зайти дальше нужного. Хотя тебе нравится, как он сжимает твою талию, как оставляет тёплый поцелуй у тебя на шее, и ты чувствуешь его желание. Твои глаза невольно прикрываются. Но ты всё же кладёшь свою ладонь на ладонь Ивара и останавливаешь его от того, чтобы он поднял руку выше к твоей груди, которая прикрыта бюстгальтером.

— Ивар. — Твои пальцы сжимаются, чтобы он не продолжал своих действий.

На твоё удивление, хотя ты этого не признаешь, Ивар был достаточно терпелив к тебе. Ты успела заметить, что он даёт тебе пространство, как только ты намекаешь на это или пытаешься отдалиться от него. Хотя ты уже привыкла к тому, что просыпалась с его руками на своём теле и получала много поцелуев с прикосновениями. Тебе раньше не доводилось думать о том, что Ивар является весьма тактильным человеком. Он цепкий и ему очевидно нужен физический контакт, даже минимальный.

Тебе не хотелось быть ханжой, но ты всё ещё не совсем желала сближаться с ним больше, чем уже было. Ты как минимум не хотела делать этого прямо сейчас и таким образом. Ивар не давил на тебя, хотя порой тебе казалось, что он нервничал. Но с течением нескольких дней со своим теперь парнем, ты узнала его с другой стороны.

— Нам нужно вставать, — произносишь ты, переворачиваясь в его объятиях и натягивая на себя одеяло, чтобы холод как можно меньше тебя затронул.

Ивар оставляет несколько поцелуев на твоей щеке, а его рука сползает с твоей талии на твоё бедро, и ты поддаёшься его небольшому толчку, закидывая свою ногу ему на бедро.

— Ты вкусно пахнешь, — мурлычет Ивар, оставляя поцелуи на твоей шее. — Нам нужно сходить в ресторан.

— Когда? — Тебе нравятся поцелуи, и ты чувствуешь возбуждение. Но волнение от новых планов твоего парня всё равно тебя захватывают.

Ивар гладит тебя по бедру и заставляет прижаться к нему ближе, чтобы получить больше удовольствия, хотя он не собирался тебя обделять лаской. Ты чувствуешь его возбуждение и невольно желаешь большего. Пока его ладони скользили по ткани твоей одежды, а губы не спускались ниже шее, ты чувствовала себя комфортно и совсем не думала о чём-то другом.

Может, не было ничего такого, если вы сейчас подадитесь удовольствию. Ты знала его давно и между вами были отношения...

— Ивар! — Дверь вашей комнаты открывается и тогда, ты слышишь чуть ли не рычание возле своего уха. Ивар раздражённо выдыхает, после чего поднимает свой взгляд на того, кто нарушил ваше уединение.

Сигурд стоял в дверях, смотря на своего брата с раздражением, будто он ворвался не в чужую комнату, а в свою, где застал вас.

— Да, Сигурд. Ты что-то хотел? — в его голосе слышится наигранная вежливость.

Ты подпираешь голову рукой, опираясь локтем в подушку.

— Мы хотим поехать на охоту, я, Уббе и Хвитсерк. Ты с нами? — произносит Сигурд, когда кидает взгляд на тебя.

Твои волосы были в беспорядке, губы припухли от поцелуев, а щёки были немного красными. Сигурду не сложно предположить, что именно он нагло прекратил между тобой и его братом.

Ты была не против, если бы Ивар покинул тебя ненадолго. Хотя ты и не хотела этого, ты бы спокойно к этому отнеслась.

— Нет.

— Как хочешь. Мы уезжаем через час, если передумаешь, — произносит Сигурд, закрывая за собой дверь.

Ты кидаешь взгляд на Ивара, твоё возбуждение и желание достаточно быстро прошло. И теперь ты снова здраво мыслишь.

— На чём мы остановились? — Настроение Ивара меняется, когда он обнимает тебя и желает снова поцеловать.

Но ты упираешься рукой в его грудь, чтобы приостановить его. Он останавливается, смотря на тебя с замешательством.

— Если ты хочешь поехать со своими братьями, то ты можешь поехать с ними, — произносишь ты.

Ивар не думает об этом, но он просто знает, что Фрейдис не предложила бы ему подобное. Она напомнила бы о ресторане, сказала бы ему, как хочет его, и они продолжили бы ласки, которые переросли бы во что-то большее. Но ты желала не быть той, кто держит своего партнёра на поводке.

— Я много раз был на зимней охоте, Т\И. Сигурд будет раздражающим, Уббе будет охотиться, Хвитсерк тоже, но пока не захочет есть, тогда он будет просить остановиться. Поверь, я ничего особенного не пропускаю, — произносит Ивар, после чего оставляет поцелуй на твоих губах. — Что насчёт ресторана?

— Ты хочешь пойти сейчас? — удивлённо спрашиваешь ты.

— Да.

— Разве нам не нужно забронировать столик? — ты искренне удивлена в простоте Ивара.

— Моя фамилия Лодброк, и это мой родной город, — произносит Ивар, слишком довольно ухмыляясь. — Мне не нужно бронировать столики в ресторанах.

Ты не можешь удержаться от улыбки. Твой парень ложится на спину, положив одну руку себе под голову.

— Ты явно не смущаешься этого, — выдаёшь ты, смотря на него.

— Я предпочту воспользоваться своим положением, — беспристрастно говорит твой парень, выглядя спокойным.

Тебе было комфортно с Иваром. И теперь, когда ты была его девушкой, ты понимала, что он делает многое, чтобы выразить свои чувства и завоевать твои. На тебя это немного давит, но Ивар всё ещё был тем, кого ты ценила и желала видеть рядом.

Ты невольно расплываешься в улыбке, оставляешь поцелуй на его губах и отстраняешься.

— Мы точно не должны помочь твоей маме с подготовкой или ещё чем-то? — уточняешь у Ивара, медленно скользя пальцами по очертаниям его татуировки на груди и плече.

— Нет. Всё в порядке. — Ивар обнимает тебя, прижимая ближе к себе, утыкаясь в изгиб твоей шеи. — Торви будет помогать ей, может ещё придёт Сигги, чтобы помочь с украшениями или она наймёт кого-нибудь.

— Кто такая Сигги? — интересуешься ты, пока Ивар продолжает целовать тебя и постепенно опускается вниз.

— Подруга мамы. Бывшая жена Ролло, моего дяди, — произносит твой парень, залезая под одеяло и скрываясь под ним.

— Разве не Флоки твой дядя?

— Он был хорошим другом отца. Ролло брат моего отца, хотя я никогда его не видел. Но Хвитсерк и Бьёрн знакомы с ним, видели его пару раз. — Ты чувствуешь его руки на своих бёдрах, он желает стянуть с тебя твои штаны, и ты понимаешь, к чему он клонит или скорее прямо говорит. И ты возбуждена, ты не против испытать удовольствие от Ивара, каким бы способом он не собирался тебе его доставить. Но ты не можешь допустить подобного сейчас.

— Ивар, — произносишь ты. — Стой.

Он не останавливается, поддевает пальцами ткань твоих штанов, заодно и ткань твоего нижнего белья.

— Ивар, — твой голос становится более властным, твёрдым и твоему парню хватает всего секунды, чтобы остановиться и замереть. Он не двигается, ему хочется продолжить и признаться, будь он с другой девушкой, может быть, он бы не послушал её протесты. Ивар уверен, что они бы не были так решительны в своих словах. Он встречал чаще тех, кто хихикает, не отталкивает его, только говорят мягкое «нет» и одновременно радуя его своими стонами. — Вылезай.

Ивар всё же поджимает губы, облизывая нижнюю, и вылезая из-под одеяла. По его взгляду видно, что он немного удивлён, его брови подняты, а глаза стали круглее.

— Мне будут предоставлены объяснения, почему ты не позволила мне доставить тебе удовольствие? — интересуется Ивар, желая затронуть тему того, что ты держишь его на расстоянии.

— Говоришь, как адвокат, — произносишь ты, выдав смешок. Ты тянешь руку к его волосам, желая погладить его и дать хоть небольшое утешение. Тебе прекрасно теперь известно, что Ивара это отвлечёт и успокоит, ему нравились твои прикосновения, он становился спокойнее, как только твоя рука достигала его.

— Приходится. — Ивар нависает над тобой. — Что насчёт объяснений, м?

Он замечал то, как ты старалась сохранить дистанцию между вами, но он также старался быть терпеливым. Хотя ему казалось странным твоё отстранённое поведение. Он считал тебя достаточно близким человеком, вы и впрямь были такими. Но пока тебе хотелось оттянуть моменты вашего более тесного общения, Ивар хотел окунуться в них с головой, потому что в отличие от тебя, он долго этого желал и грезил этим.

— Я... думаю, что сейчас не подходящее время, — произносишь ты. — Твоя семья внизу, а дверь не закрыта.

Ты придумываешь оправдание, хотя легко могла бы напомнить ему о том, что не хочешь торопиться. Но тебе стало немного не по себе, когда ты подумала о реакции Ивара на слова, которые он уже слышал ни один раз.

— Я в ванную, — выдаёшь ты, быстро оставив поцелуй на его губах, после чего поднимаясь со своего места.

Ивар не успевает тебе предложить «свою помощь в душе» или просто он решил не делать этого, ты понятие не имеешь, потому что скрываешься за дверью, как можно быстрее и запираешь её на автомате.

Ты могла бы предположить, что твоего парня будет смущать отстранённость. Но может, если бы вы не были в доме его семьи, и его семья ничего не знала о тебе и о вас с Иваром, ты могла бы быть спокойнее. Вся эта обстановка слегка давит, всё такое странное. Его семья воспринимала тебя как ту, кто уже был в устоявшихся отношениях с Иваром, но это было не так. Ты держала его на расстоянии, когда он был твоим другом, ты не позволяла себе лишнего со своим другом, но сейчас ты имела право на это лишнее. Однако ты всё ещё не могла разрешить себе расслабиться рядом с Иваром, будто тебе всё ещё нужно сохранять границы, пока твой парень желал разрушить эти стены.

Когда ты выходишь из ванной, Ивар уже одет. Он, в отличие от тебя, принимал душ вчера, и он был тем, кто уже спускался, чтобы принести вам завтрак в комнату.

Подноса с пустыми тарелками больше нет, кровать заправлена.

— Я буду внизу, хорошо? — интересуется он, подойдя к тебе. — Нужно помочь Хвитсерку с вещами, погрузить их в машину. Как будешь готова, спускайся, ладно?

Ты киваешь и оставляешь поцелуй на его губах. Ивар понимает, что ты пытаешься держать его на расстоянии. Но он желает стать с тобой ближе, потому что его влюблённость намного сильнее и глубже, чем он предполагал.

Когда Ивар спускается, то сразу накинув тёплую куртку, выходит на улицу, направляясь к открытому гаражу. Хвитсерк был один, когда перекладывал некоторые вещи из гаража в открытый багажник. Младший Рагнарссон молча подходит к своему брату и начинает помогать ему.

— Почему ты не поедешь с нами? —интересуется Хвитсерк, продолжая свою работу.

— Потому что мы каждый год ездим в лес, я ничего не потеряю, если не поеду в этот раз, — произносит Ивар, кидая взгляд на своего брата и видит нахальную улыбку.

Хвитсерка не надо было спрашивать его о мыслях. Он всегда был немного болтливым.

— Или кто-то не захотел отпускать своего парня. Когда вы успели с ней сойтись? Я виделся с тобой этим летом, и Т\И всё ещё была твоей подругой, верно? Или вы скрыли это от меня? — Хвитсерк не догадывался, а значит, никто не догадался бы, потому что Хвитсерк был единственным, кто мог хоть немного разобраться во всём этом обмане, будь он внимательнее или вообще хоть как-то заинтересован во всём этом.

Хвитсерк скорее просто рад за своего брата и доволен, что Ивар нашёл подходящую для себя девушку. Он достаточно проницательный, когда того хотел или когда это было слишком легко заметить. Поэтому Хвитсерк заметил при первом общении с тобой, что ты могла бы быть подходящей пассией его брату, а когда он увидел ваше общение, то невольно заметил химию между вами, то, что было на самом деле дано не многим друзьям или парам.

— Мы сошлись в конце лета. — Ивар придумывает на ходу, и думает о том, что ему нужно не забыть рассказать тебе об этой маленькой детали ваших «давних» отношений. — И не хотели говорить об этом всем подряд.

— Брось! Я твой любимый брат, а ты даже не сказал мне, что самая идеальная девушка для тебя, стала твоей. Как ты мог не рассказать мне?! — Хвитсерк казался искренне оскорблённым, но Ивар был уверен, что его брат не так уж и обижен на него.

— Если бы ты не уехал к Уббе, то может, узнал бы.

Хвитсерк только поджимает губы, немного хмурится, переключаясь на рюкзак, который запихивал в багажник. Это было последним, что должно быть в багажнике.

— Брось. Это Америка. Я поехал не только ради Уббе, — произносит Хвитсерк, будто это должно быть озвучено.

Хотя Ивару на самом деле просто хотелось вызвать чувство вины у своего брата, немного.

— И ради новых девушек? — Ивар направляется домой, явно не нуждаясь в ответе своего брата.

Хвитсерк следует за ним. Снег под их ботинками хрустит, пока они добираются до ступенек крыльца.

— Новые земли, новые завоевания, — произносит Хвитсерк, невольно усмехнувшись, вспоминая свои похождения в штатах.

— Да. Ты сделал правильный выбор, — выдаёт Ивар, явно с сарказмом.

Они заходят в дом, разуваясь и снимая куртки. Ивар проходит в гостиную, откуда доносится голос Торви, которая рассказывает о своих детях. Он думает о том, что наверняка жена Уббе говорит с Эшли, или Аслауг, но когда он заходит в гостиную вместе с Хвитсерком, то видит тебя на диване.

На тебе короткая юбка, которая показывает твои ноги. Капроновые колготки и кашемировый свитер. Украшения дополняют твой образ. Он очарован тобой, когда замечает малыша на твоих коленях. Мальчик, который недавно начал ходит, последний сын Уббе и Торви, сидел на твоих коленях, на нём плюшевый комбинезон бежевого цвета и носочки. Ты слабо улыбалась Торви, слушая её и обнимая малыша. Ивар знал, что ты из тех, кто скорее избегает контакта с детьми, он помнит, как ты говорила, что точно должна быть уверена в своём будущем, чтобы позволить мужчине оплодотворить тебя. Хотя теперь в голову твоего парня лезут мысли о том, что он мог бы позаботиться о тебе, когда ты будешь носить его ребёнка. Конечно, рана от его бывшей всё ещё заживала, но ты была той, кто заставлял его надеется на лучшее, ты внушала ему надежду и возрождала его желания.

— Нам пора идти, — Ивар приходит в себя, подходя к тебе и отчасти не желая уничтожать эту греющую сердце картину.

Ты передаёшь ребёнка Торви, которая была весьма милой с тобой, когда составляла тебе компанию, пока Ивара не было с тобой. Ваши дни проходили спокойно. Завтра Ивар будет рядом с тобой, на ужине с семьёй. Может, он будет тем, кто понадеется на то, что на следующий год ты также будешь сидеть с ним. Может с кольцом на безымянном пальце, а может он сделает тебе предложение через год после праздников. Ты также наслаждалась временем со своим парнем. Ты боролась со своими маленькими разъедающими мыслями и аккуратными действиями. Тебе просто нужно было больше довериться Ивару и больше слушать свои чувства.

Ивар был рад всему происходящему. Всё шло хорошо. Приятное чувство внутри его груди наполняет. Ресторан с приглушённым светом, где не так много людей, и вы сидите в укромном месте. Ваш столик в дальнем углу, где вас мало кто мог заметить.

Ты почти прижима��ась к Ивару, чувствуя его тепло и слушая его историю о том, как прошёл один из их рождественских ужинов в его детстве.

— И Хвитсерка стошнило, прямо в цветок.

Ты не могла сказать, что смеялась над самим Хвитсерком, только над ситуацией.

— Мама была такой злой, потому что это было при гостях. В один момент он играет с Уббе, носясь по всему дому, а в другой, его уже тошнит в горшок. — Ивар и сам не может сдержаться от улыбки, когда вспоминает этот момент.

— Это был единственный такой вечер? Или это стало традицией? — ты всего лишь шутишь.

— Традиций стали ссоры. Уверен, Сигурд напьётся и начёт говорить лишнего, а потом Лагерта будет вести себя так, будто это её дом, — Ивар больше не выглядит таким весёлым, потому что невольно понимает, что не хочет наступление завтрашнего дня.

Твоя нога лежала на другой, когда твой локоть был на спинке дивана, ты была полубоком к своему парню, уже наевшись, и вы оба ожидали десерта. Твоя рука опускается на его затылок, накрывая его волосы, ты зарываешься в них пальцами, желая показать свою поддержку и понимание через прикосновения.

— Каждый ваш ужин проходит так? — в твоём голосе слышится сочувствие, но он не хочет, чтобы ты жалела его.

— Когда я был младше, всё было лучше, — Ивар говорит немного пренебрежительно, будто пытается отказаться от того, что ты пыталась ему предложить. Но он не может заставить себя отпрянуть от твоего прикосновения, поэтому продолжает, откинувшись назад, сидеть рядом с тобой, опустив взгляд.

— Почему ты не поехала к своей семье на празднике? — Он хочет перевести тему и заодно узнать о тебе больше.

Ты убираешь руку от него, больше не зарываешься пальцами в его волосы и не ласкаешь его. Твоя рука возвращается в исходное положение – свисает со спинки дивана, пока локоть всё ещё остаётся на ней. Ты опускаешь взгляд, стараясь подобрать правильные слова.

— Моя семья не может находиться вместе в одной комнате. Когда я была маленькой, мы собирались на праздники. Они съежились туда, откуда уехали несколько лет назад. Но с годами, все перестали это делать. Некоторые умерли, некоторые наслаждаются своей новой жизнью. И... моя мама... она приглашает на праздники тех, кто не являлся семьёй. — Ты поднимаешь взгляд на Ивара, желая увидеть его реакцию. — Просто мне кажется, что зимние праздники это семейные вечера или ночи. Мне бы хотелось иметь большую и надёжную семью. А не людей, которые уходят и приходят, когда им удобно.

Ивар кладёт свою ладонь на твою ногу, он гладит тебя и тебе становится от этого чуть легче. Тебе нравятся его прикосновения, просто тебе нужно понять, что он делает это не желая навредить тебе эмоционально или физически. Ивар искренне желал поддержать тебя, чего он на самом деле никогда не умел. Но он ведёт себя инстинктивно, может если бы нужно было что-то сказать и ситуация была более ужасной, то он бы воспользовался своими познаниями психологии или может просто бы обнимал тебя столько, сколько тебе это необходимо.

— Завтра ты окажешься в семье, и может, ты передумаешь со своим желанием иметь большую семью. — Он пытается развеять нависшую атмосферу грусти.

Ты невольно улыбаешься. Ивар не убирает руки с твоей ноги, ему нравится прикасаться к тебе. Он чувствует себя спокойнее. Ты достаточно медленно сокращаешь расстояние между вами, но нисколько ни робко, и целуешь его. Твоя ладонь ложится на его щёку, когда твой парень углубляет поцелуй. Вас никто не видит из гостей, из-за вашего места. Единственный кто может нарушить ваш покой это официант. Поцелуй Ивара становится более углублённым, пока он сжимает свою ладонь на твоей ноге и тебе нравится его небольшой напор. Но ты точно не планируешь делать что-то неприличное в этом ресторане, как и Ивар, который не являлся любителем экстремального секса.

— Мне нужно в уборную, — произносишь ты, когда вы открываетесь друг от друга.

Ты заходишь в дамскую комнату, держа свою сумочку в руках. Тебе хотелось поправить макияж и может причёску.

Ты желала открыться своему парню, желала стать с ним ближе, потому что Ивар всё же нравился тебе. И если ты будешь только и делать, что отталкивать его или держать на расстоянии, то он мог потерять терпение.

Когда ты наносишь блеск на свои губы, то смотришь на своё отражение, и тогда одна из кабинок открывается, и ты видишь девушку, которую меньше всего ожидала встретить. Её волосы стали полностью чёрными, она больше не была блондинкой и ты отмечаешь тот факт, что чёрный ей идёт больше. Она сразу узнаёт тебя, и в отличие от тебя, на её лице улыбка, пока ты смотришь на неё с удивлением, через отражение зеркала. Но ты сразу берёшь себя в руки. Стараешься выглядеть непринуждённо, и тебе это удаётся, ты возвращаешь своё внимание к своему отражению.

— Привет, Т\И, — произносит она, подходя к раковине, становясь рядом с тобой.

— Привет, Фрейдис, — выдаёшь ты, закрывая свой блеск.

— Никогда бы не подумала, что могу снова тебя встретить. Ты приехала с Хвитсерком? — интересуется она, будто когда-то между тобой и третьим сыном Рагнара была какая-то связь.

Суть была в том, что единственных кого ты знала из семьи Рагнарссонов это Ивар и Хвитсерк. И видимо, по мнению Фрейдис, ты могла стать девушкой Хвитсерка, но не Ивара. Тебя немного одолевает ревность или злость, ты не совсем понимаешь, что именно чувствуешь. Но эти эмоции заставили тебя сказать вещи, которые ты может и не должна говорить.

— С Иваром. Знакомиться с его семьёй, — произносишь ты, внимательно смотря на отражение Фрейдис, пока сама расплываешься в наивной улыбке, будто не осознаёшь, как эта фраза могла бы повлиять на неё.

Она теперь выглядит раздражённой, когда выключает воду. Но Фрейд��с очень быстро меняется в лице, заставляя себя собраться с мыслями. Её задевал тот факт, что ты стала девушкой её бывшего, раньше она немного ревновала Ивара к тебе, была уверена, что между вами была сексуальная близость, о которой вы оба умалчивали. А теперь ты его девушка, которая знакомится с его семьёй.

— Вы стали парой? — она выдаёт удивление и кажется презрение.

— Да. В конце этого лета, — выдаёшь ты, но потом думаешь о том, что не нужно было говорить лишнего, может стоило сказать только «да» и попрощаться.

Однако ты всё ещё мило и немного наивно ей улыбаешься, видя её разочарование и может, раздражение на лице, которое она выдаёт, как только подходит к одноразовым полотенцам.

— Ты теперь живёшь в Дании?

— Нет. Я приехала увидеться с подругами и показать своему жениху свой город, — произносит она, больше не улыбаясь тебе приторно сладко, будто вы были старыми хорошими друзьями.

— Мне пора, — произносишь ты, застёгивая сумку.

— Конечно, — чуть ли не шипит Фрейдис, но старается выглядеть милой. Она сминает бумажное полотенце, желая его выкинуть.

Дело было не только в том, что она поступила с Иваром просто ужасно. Он никогда не рассказывал тебе о подробностях, но ты знала картину в целом. Однако твоё общение с девушкой было таким, каким было, потому что она с самого начала тебя раздражала. Она была той, кто делал плохие вещи, и ты заметила это раньше Ивара. Ты знаешь, что она ревновала. Фрейдис не любила тебя, у вас это было взаимно. Поэтому сейчас ты рассказала о своих отношениях с Иваром. Хотя тебя удивляет то, что она с кем-то обручилась.

Ты садишься рядом с Иваром, когда на столе уже стоят две тарелки с вашими десертами.

Он отвлёкся на телефон, но как только ты появилась рядом, он убирает его. Ивар немного нервничал из-за работы, он занимался ею, пока вы проводили ленивые дни в постели.

Тебе не было известно, нужно ли было рассказывать Ивару о том, кого ты увидела в уборной. Но тебе не хотелось затрагивать тему с Фрейдис. Ты помнишь, как долго твой тогда друг восстанавливался. Странные мысли и чувства запретили тебе говорить о девушке, которую ты презирала.

Ивар обращает на тебя своё внимание и замечает, что твои губы подкрашены. Он искренне был рад видеть твою улыбку, когда ты смотрела на него, и он был также рад обедать с тобой в своём городе. Вы оба знали, что вам скоро придётся вернуться в его дом. И может, Ивар уже желал вернуться в Англию, чтобы проводить время с тобой в большем уединении и дать тебе больше пространства, ведь он видел, что тебе оно нужно.

Когда вы с Иваром выходите на улицу, он держит свою руку на твоей талии. К вам должны подогнать машину, пока вы ждёте под медленно падающим снегом возле ресторана. Ты ��ержишь руки скрещенными. Небо было затянуто тучами и солнце опять не было видно.

— Ивар, — этот голос заставляет тебя сжать зубы и воздержаться от закатывания глаз.

Твой парень разворачивается вместе с тобой, и замечает свою бывшую девушку. Он не убирает руку с твоей талии, скорее обхватывает тебя чуть крепче. Ивар немного напрягается.

— Фрейдис и...

— Это Олег, — произносит она. — Мой жених.

Девушка улыбается, посмотрев на мужчину рядом с ней влюблёнными глазами. Ты весьма удивлена подобному, и Ивар кажется тоже немного. Ты была уверена, что его чувства исчезла к ней, может он мог испытывать только злость на всё то, что она сделала.

— Олег, это Ивар, — выдаёт Фрейдис, будто была какая-то необходимость в их знакомстве. — А это Т\И, его девушка.

Ты удивлена, что она и тебя представила. Но ты только приветливо улыбаешься, хотя улыбка не касается твоих глаз, этого достаточно, чтобы выглядеть воспитанной.

К твоему счастью, и может к счастью Ивара, к вам подъезжает машина.

— Я рада, что вы сошлись. Мне всегда казалось, что вы подходите друг другу, — произносит Фрейдис расплываясь в улыбке, будто её радует подобное, хотя ты помнишь, как из-за неё ваше с Иваром общение сократилось в разы. И помнишь её лицо, когда говорила с ней несколько минут назад. Ивар также знает, что его бывшая невеста врёт. И единственное о чём он думает, что хотел бы разрушить её жизнь, также как она сделала с его.

— Я тоже всегда знал, что она мне подходит, — выдаёт Ивар, заставляя тебя перевести на него взгляд, который наполнен влюблённостью, а твои губы расплываются в улыбке.

Он сказал это невольно, не обдумав тот факт, как это могло выглядеть. Однако это было уже не важно. Взгляд Фрейдис наполнен недовольством, даже её лицо немного искажается.

— Спасибо, — Ивар принимает ключи от паренька, что подогнал машину. Тот подходит к Олегу, принимая его номерок парковки. — Нам пора.

Никто не прощается, вы просто уходите. Ты садишься в машину, как и твой парень. Ты была почти спокойна, потому что Ивар не казался тем, кто всё ещё что-то чувствует к своей бывшей невесте. Однако теперь он выглядит злым. Ты невольно думаешь о том, что он мог ревновать её или просто до сих пор злиться на неё и желать возмездия.

Однако это было совсем не так. Ивар просто злился, что его бывшая была в этом городе. Он помнит, как она не хотела покидать Лондон, как она не желала уезжать из Англии. Она устроила истерики, когда он сказал, что они поедут в Данию на зимние праздники. Поэтому ему пришлось проводить следующие праздники с Фрейдис в Англии. А теперь она со своим русским женихом в Дании.

— Всё в порядке? — интересуешься ты, не желая больше утаивать этот вопрос.

Одно дело умалчивать о своих чувствах и эмоциях, имея проблемы с их выражением. Другое ревновать и иметь проблемы с мыслями, которые может быть были накрученными.

— Нет. Она ненавидела Данию, я не мог её сюда затащить. А теперь она приехала сюда, стояла и улыбалась мне так, будто не отсудила у меня охренеть как много денег, не шантажировала меня и не пыталась мне врать. — Ивар явно злился, ты видела его хмурые брови, слышала шипение в его голосе и поднимающуюся верхнюю губу, когда он говорил.

Ты кладёшь ладонь на колено Ивара, ласково поглаживая его и желая успокоить, потому что ты замечаешь, как сильно он сжимает руль. Тебе кажется, что ещё немного и он сломает его. Костяшки Ивара совсем стали белыми. Тебе понятны его чувства и эмоции, но ты всё равно надеешься, что уже к вечеру он забудет об этом. Ты думаешь над своими словами, чтобы хоть немного успокоить Ивара.

— Она не могла вести себя иначе, рядом был её жених, она просто решила вести себя так, чтобы ты внезапно не выдал историю вашего расставания. — Ты надеялась, что Ивар поймёт тебя правильно. И, кажется, он понял, потому что ты замечаешь, как он кидает на тебя быстрый взгляд, а потом немного расслабляется.

Он чувствует себя намного лучше, гнев больше не заставляет его сжимать руль и зубы до боли, ещё немного и они начнут крошиться. В теперь Ивар спокойнее.

[multific]

Burn the World for You

Ivar The Boneless x Reader

Summary: When you are taken, Ivan doesn't take it too kindly.

Being Queen of Kattegat came with a price. 

The price was that you were often attacked. People who were trying to take Ivar off of the throne often thought it would be the best way to do so by hurting you.

Since you were his wife.

Ivar absolutely adores you. You are his everything. His little wife.

You have known him since you two were only children. You watched him grow up to be a handsome man, while he watched you become the gorgeous woman you were today.

Your marriage came as no news to anyone.

And now, you were the Queen.

His Queen.

Who was kidnapped by three men. 

You knew better than to struggle against the rope. You knew better than to try and fight them.

They didn't know the wrath of your husband. But they will soon learn.

You were quiet and collected as they dragged you to their camp not too far from your home.

How stupid were they? Even if no one was looking for you, they could find them easily!

Ivar swore he nearly entered Valhalla just by the sight of his bedchambers.

Everything was ruined, your favourite things were thrown everywhere, but most of all, you were gone.

Gone and there was blood on the floor. He sincerely hoped it wasn't yours.

Ivar saw red as he called his brothers and men to go and find you. With an axe in hand, he was also out for blood.

How dare anyone take you from him?! 

You were patient. Even when a knife was held to your neck, you remained stoic.

You let out a deep sigh when finally Hvitserk arrived.

He killed the men and brought you back to your home.

"Where's my wife?!" you heard Ivar yell as he pushed himself through the crowd and into your home. Finally, as the door closed behind him, you walked over to him as he hugged you, he gave a thankful look to his brother who only nodded before he left you two alone.

"I'm fine Ivar. Idiots didn't even have a decent plan..."

"I gave you a knife... where is it?"

"I just finished bathing when they barged in, my knife and axe weren't with me." Ivar nodded, letting out long sighs and taking deep breaths.

"I thought I lost you."

"And I know you would come for me." you cupped his cheeks in your hands. "Even as they were talking about how they will kill me all I could think about was how I knew you would show up at any second and just kill all three of them. And then, your brother showed up. You sent him and he saved me," you placed a kiss on his lips. "No one will take me from you, Ivar. Not even the Gods." he smiled as he pulled you closer.

You knew he was happy to have you back as you could only imagine how angry he was when he realized that you were gone. 

But now, you were back by his side, where you belonged. 

He placed his nose into your neck, taking deep breaths to calm himself and to let his mind and body realise that you were indeed back

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~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, PLAGIARISE, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS  

[thepaperpanda]

Knitted Christmas Sweaters || modern!Ivar the Boneless x fem!reader

Masterlist ❄

Summary: It appears that Ivar is unhappy with the gift he received from you, but once he learns about your motives, he changes his mind.

Warnings: none

Word count: ~ 570

Author: Fenrir

A/N: today’s prompt: Matching Christmas Sweaters

In Ivar's mind, he knew that his low mood was just that... His. While his brain could come up with a thousand plausible reasons why someone else was at fault, Ivar had to take responsibility for his feelings and the path to getting himself out of feeling so blue. You made things uncomfortable for him, especially during the Christmas/Yule holiday season, by making him do pointless and pathetic tasks such as picking out a Christmas tree, baking gingerbread and decorating your flat.

And now this. When he looked in the mirror for the last time, he uttered an unhappy grunt - he wore a red, woollen sweater with a reindeer motif. This piece of clothing was only nice because the sweater was fluffy and kept Ivar warm. "There is no way in hell I'm going out like this!" Ivar shouted loudly, making sure you would hear him through the closed bathroom door. No way, babe, I look like a fucking idiot!"

You leaned your back against the wall, waiting for Ivar to stop acting like a child. You were standing in the corridor of your shared flat, so sweetly encouraging him, "Oh, honey, you look absolutely cute, I bet! Get out, please!" You knitted him a sweater, but he threw a tantrum when you gave it to him. Again.

After another sigh, Ivar ran his hand through his thick, dark hair and left the bathroom. He opened the door and stepped forward, resting his hands on his hips. "There's a reindeer on it, and I hate them. As a whole, I'm not a fan of sweaters."

Without unnecessary words, you grabbed his palm and led him to the living room. After pushing him into the couch, you told him to stay there while you disappeared into another room. Soon, you returned to him, wearing exactly the same sweeter, but in a smaller size. "Look, I knitted both of them so we'd have a matching thing." When you spoke, your voice became low and he could hear your sadness.

As you explained everything to Ivar, he felt even worse for acting like a wayward child. He got up from his place and slowly limped to you, immediately wrapping his hands around your waist. "Baby, I didn't know. I didn't mean to, though. Don't be mad, please?"

Taking a few long moments to gaze into his blue eyes, you smiled barely. "I'm not mad, but I hoped secretly you'd enjoy the gift. I apologise that it's not as fancy as the PlayStation 5 Ubbe gifted you with."

As Ivar kissed the bridge of your nose, he took your face in his palms. "It's a much better gift, silly. Do you know why? It's the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me, because you made it yourself and put effort and your heart into making it. At least we have matching sweaters now." With his palm firmly gripping yours, he led you into the corridor where a huge mirror hung. As he gazed at your reflections, he leaned his head down and placed his chin on top of your head as he stood in front of the mirror with you. "Just look at us. We're two cuties wearing reindeer sweaters."

Laughing, you turned in his arms, wrapped your arms around his neck, and kissed his cheek. "Despite being a dick most of the time, you are sometimes tooth-rooting cute. I love you, Ivar."

[onlinevampire1898]

𝐈𝐌 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐎𝐊𝐀𝐘 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐎𝐍𝐄…. 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘

Guess who’s 1) finally got out of her writers block and 2) finally has time to write and 3) doesn’t have a bunch of shit going left in her life…. THIS GIRL!!!

Which means I’m Not Okay (part three is coming soon to an account near you) I’m half way finished writing part three, so let me know if you would like to be tagged in part three!

[jadelynlace]

New Modern!Vikings AU Series Preview:

“A Safe Place to Die”*

*title is subject to change.

synopsis: Home from war and stricken with PTSD, Marine Gunnery Sergeant Ivar Lothbrok navigates his new life, and new legs. 

eventual series pairing: Modern!Ivar x F!Reader (not doctor and patient)

*please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed from the tag list!

All is fair in love and war. But Ivar doesn’t feel that way as he lies disabled in what feels like purgatory. The last memory he has that isn’t grainy, is approaching a target; the bloodshed, and flashes of light from insurgent’s IEDs comes next. Lying helpless on the ground while he watches his men around him—what pieces of them are left—while he waits. And with waiting, his mind turns in on itself, aching, begging any God to listen to him to just make him move. To just make him walk. But no one answers.

He only thinks it should have been him, in that sand. Pieces of him. Memories of him. He was the one who shouldn’t have come home.

Now he lives with the fact that he did.

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*please message me to let me know if you would like to be added or removed from my tag list. specifications for series/etc. are also welcomed, as well as feedback.*

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