#modern ivar x reader

[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

[hoteldreamss]

Ivar the boneless || imagine

Метки: Современное AU; школа; влюблённость; дружба

Слов: 488

Тебе не нравилась школа, но ком�� она нравилась? Может только тем, кто смог приспособиться ко всем её негативным аспектам. Увы, у тебя этого не вышло.

Ивар направляется к твоему шкафчику вместе с тобой. Он был благодарен, что ты стала его другом, даже если он мечтал о чём-то большем, ему нельзя всё испортить.

После того как ему наконец смогли помочь врачи, и младшая школа прекратилась, а в средней каждый начал меняться. Все сплотились в группки. И Ивару повезло оказаться с тобой. Ему повезло обзавестись друзьями и общаться с кем-то, кто не его братья. Но всё это закончилось, пока он не облажался с Маргрет. Тогда единственным другом оказалась только ты.

Ему не хотелось это никогда обсуждать, и ты не настаивала.

Тебе легко удалось заставить его отвлечься от плохих воспоминаний, слухов и сплетен. Ты стала его спасением, и он до сих пор был тебе благодарен.

— Ты сделал историю? — интересуешься ты, закрывая свой шкафчик, и направляясь дальше по коридору.

Ивар следует за тобой.

— Да, — признаётся он. — Ты я полагаю – нет? — В его тоне слышится осуждение, но ты не реагируешь на это.

— Не всем так повезло, как тебе. Другим людям дано другое.

Ты знаешь, каким иногда надменным может быть Ивар, и тебе казалось правильнее принять это, нежели пытаться его переделать, учитывая, что ты считала себя его другом.

— Привет, — ваш одноклассник проходит мимо, и глянув на тебя здоровается.

Ты расплываешься в улыбке и также говоришь ему «привет».

Его глаза карие и, как тебе хочется думать, полны тепла, и может даже той же влюблённости, когда смотрят на тебя. Его чёрные волосы всегда в идеальном беспорядке. Улыбка милая и почти голливудская. Он высокий. Хотя его сложно назвать спортсменом, ты знаешь, что он занимается спортом. Ты очевидно влюблена в него, даже если никогда не упоминала об это нигде.

— Что это было? — Ивар смотрит на тебя нахмурившись. Он чувствует себя так, будто ты только что вытолкнула его из своего дома и захлопнула перед носом дверь.

— Где?

Он точно не знает, строишь ли ты из себя дурочку, или на самом деле не заметила, что только что произошло. Может ты не хотела говорить ему?

— Ты покраснела? — он смотрит на твои щёки с лёгким удивлением. Почему ты покраснела?

— Правда? — ты трогаешь своё лицо, проверяя есть ли у тебя небольшой жар, на случай проверки температуры. — Должно быть просто жарко. На мне сегодня слишком тёплая кофта.

Ты опускаешь взгляд, стараясь не выдать себя, когда до тебя доходит, что твой друг всё заметил. Иногда его наблюдательность не играла тебе на руку.

— Так, ты дашь мне историю? — интересуешься ты, когда вы почти подходите к кабинету.

— Да, конечно.

Он хочет думать, что ты просто засмущалась. В конце концов, ваш одноклассник был очевидно привлекательным, хоть и не слишком популярным. Ивар не хочет верить, что ты могла бы влюбиться в кого-то кроме него. Он хочет думать, что вы не просто так дружите, что однажды судьба просто заставить вас быть вместе. Потому что ты единственный человек, который ему по-настоящему нравится. И которому он может простить списывание с его тетради.

[jadelynlace]

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

read more of Ink Drinker here.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Leaving already?” Someone whines.

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

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

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

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

“You have one bed,” Ivar tells him. 

“Exactly,” Aiden smirks.

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

“No, no I do not,”

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

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

*

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

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

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

“Stopping,” You peep back. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi,” He says quietly.

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

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

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

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[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!

[mylifeisactuallyamess]

Vantalaður Ást

Ivar Lothbrok Hvitserk Lothbrok x F!Reader

Chapter 16 - Chapter 17.

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

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

Word Count: 7.9k+

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why are you on the floor, Hvitserk?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nervous, brother bear?”

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

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

“Just redoing the braids.”

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

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

“Hey! I need those!”

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

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

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

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

“Ouch, kærasta!”

“Don’t distract me!” You whispered.

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

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

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

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

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

“Shut up, Hvitserk,” Ivar snapped.

“Make me. Brother.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Still the fastest chugger,” he announced.

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

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

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

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

“Maybe,” you admitted quietly.

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

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

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

“I’ll see you soon.”

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

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

“I’m going.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Stop chewing!” You scolded softly.

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

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

“No horror stories from last night?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Just call me litla…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“There you are!” Cried Kat.

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

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

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

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

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

“Why?” Alex asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is my best friend,” you stated.

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

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

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

“Now we wait.”

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

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

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

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

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

“She is the best of his choices.”

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

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

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

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

“Handled, what better?”

“You. Us—this.”

“I don’t….”

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

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

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

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

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

“But you knew?!”

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

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

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

“Maybe in another life,” you murmured.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“To cry.”

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

“I saw you talking to Ivar.”

“He didn’t do this to me.”

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

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

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

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

“No, not for that. For Hvitserk.”

“Hv-Hvitserk?” You stuttered.

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

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

“We all have eyes, krúttið mitt.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh yeah. What have I done now?”

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

“Oh?”

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

“He has done amazingly,” you said lightly.

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

“Because you make him happy.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It does,” you breathed back.

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

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

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

“So the others know about me and Hvitserk.”

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

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

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

“You’re going to leave now.”

“I am, Dóttir.”

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

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

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

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

[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.

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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!

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[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.

[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!

[bjornswoman]

Vikings Masterlist

Bjorn Ironside

Mine

Afraid of losing you

Heart's healer

His night

Precious

Arrows

Blue piercing eyes

I love you

Zinnia

False promises

Ubbe

His dark side

Jealous

Secret

Just listen

His bride

Sick girl

Little girl

My enemy and me*

Hvitserk

Goddess

One of his women

Betrayed

Best friends

Crazy and mad

Lies* (remake) / Lies*

Fake wedding

Worth it

My prisoner

Ivar the Boneless

Mad about you

Last night, Back to you

Break

Feelings

Crimes of love

Games and conflicts

Jealous girl

Right person wrong time

Photograph

Toxic I, II

Destruction*

Harald Finehair

Promise

Allies

Live for me

Free with you

Shieldmaiden's secret

[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.

— ��н 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 надеждой, 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 добраться до той двери, может за ней была винтовая 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 же 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 о�� 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 стала 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.

[jadelynlace]

Learning to Walk Again⎮Ink Drinker Deleted Scene⎮Modern Vikings AU [Ivar x F!Reader]

Find more Ink Drinker here.

Author's Note: This takes place somewhere between Chapter Six, and Chapter Seven, and as someone who is only a provider for patients pre-hospital, this defienetly pushed me out of my comfort zone. (And was likely why it took my so long to write again.)

Content Warnings: Medical settings, Ivar being reluctant.

Word Count: 2600+ words

“Giving you love right now, Ivar, seems like a desperate act,”

It intoxicates him, lying in the cot; and having seen the abyss he’s falling towards up close, he still refuses. Floki sits on the other side of the room, painstakingly watching Ivar stare at the ceiling, at the world just beyond his window. He’s watching him waste away; pushing himself up on few occasions to readjust, but he refuses food. Refuses help. He just simply refuses.

“The only way I am leaving here, Ivar, is if you get up and escort me out,” Floki has told him, calmly. 

“Do you want my lunch?” Ivar asks dryly. Floki on shakes his head. “You’ve been here for days,” He tries.

“As have you,” Floki starts. “The only difference is, Helga has packed me food. You know how she gets,” 

“Go home to her,” Ivar grumbles.

“No,” Floki replies, and it’s firm. Reasonable. Steady—what Ivar needs right now. His eyes are still closed as he speaks, head resting back against the wall. Floki never sleeps, Ivar is sure of that. He only rests. 

“I don’t want to break up your marriage because of this. I’ve already lost Y/N,”

“You fight for what you want,” Floki simply says. “And, if you would look at any other place than outside your window, you bastard, you’d notice, she’s been in the hall,” Ivar turns his head quickly at that. But he knows, Floki never lies. 

You’re there, propped up in one of the most uncomfortable chairs you’ve ever sat in, your sweatshirt bunched into a makeshift pillow as you scroll on your phone. You’re still in your uniform, and you’ll probably stay in it until your next shift. There’s a single water bottle on the ground, and as Ivar watches you, a nurse stops at your side. She offers you something to eat and you accept it. Because she knows you’ve been here for days, too.

“Thank you, Thora,” You say softly and your throat is dry. Dry from misuse, dry from crying. Dry.

“You’re alone today,” She remarks, and takes the set next to you. Your eyes watch her, trailing from your phone to her face before dancing down to her ID badge, clipped to her scrubs by a cartoon pizza slice, complete with a smile. 

“Yeah, his brother wanted to get some sleep in a place that won’t cause him irreversible spine damage,” You hum, watching Thora split her sandwich into two pieces.

“You might want to try that too,” Thora says softly, handing you your half. “They seems really close,”

“They’re twins,” You state. “They were made that way,” You snort. “We uh, we worked his crash together,” You then tell her.

“Wow,” Thora answers. “I can’t imagine what that must have been like,”

“I couldn’t tell you, either, I haven’t—haven’t processed it yet,”

“You will in time,” She tells you. “If you don’t die from exhaustion, or spine damage first,” She teases you, and you snort.

“I didn’t get to be where I am without being determined,” You answer. “Chief didn’t raise no quitter,” And that phrase alone makes you smile. 

For a moment you wish he was here; everything makes sense with him around. Your drawing he handed you is still in your pocket, and every so often you find your fingers gravitating towards it. Like a toddler and their favorite blanket. It makes sense. Just like everything makes sense in the bay at the station. You can’t remember how many times you’ve sat on those floors, even prior to your career, just to find some piece of mind. That warmth of nostalgia from the cool touch to the concrete; and the smell—one you’ve never found anywhere else. How your home smells, only to you. A scent you could notice any moment, but it would only make sense in that one place. You’d wheel Ivar there in a heartbeat if you thought it would have the same affect on him.

“If he doesn’t start eating soon, we’ll have to place him on a feeding tube,” Thora suddenly admits. 

“I know,” You say. 

Ivar watches you converse, not able to know what you’re saying but with the expression on your face, he learns it’s nothing pleasant. You’re paler now than he remembers, there’s no color to your cheeks, you’re gaunt, you’re simple existing as he is. 

That’s the moment Ivar realizes it. If this kills him, it’s going to kill you, too. 

It’ll kill Floki.

It’ll kill Hvitserk.

It’ll kill Aiden.

It’ll kill his mother.

It’ll kill you. It’ll kill the woman he wants to spend the rest of his life with. 

Inhaling suddenly, a panic seeps into Ivar—as if something has grabbed him, holding him under water and his screams only bubble to the surface. Sitting up quickly he grips his bed sheets, the monitor to his side beeps rapidly to announce the anxiety and it draws Floki’s attention. It draws Thora’s attention, and with a bite of turkey in your mouth, you look up at the man, with panic etched into his features, he is staring back at you.

“Ivar?” Floki says, and even you notice that this is concerning to him. “Ivar? What’s going on?”

“I—,” And out of all the languages he can speak, none of them want to trickle off his tongue. Thora stands in anticipation and you only put your hand to slow her down.

“Leave him be,” You finally say after swallowing your bite. “Floki’s the best thing for him right now,”

“Not if he’s having a serious problem,” Thora answers, looking down at you.

“He’s not,” You reply. “I know that look,” You tell her.

“I can’t kill her,” Ivar finally says.

“Ivar…?” Floki starts.

“Y/N,” Ivar replies, as if the answer is as clear for Floki as it is for him. “I can’t kill Y/N,”

“You think this is killing her?” Floki asks. “Tell me more,” Ivar swallows thickly.

“She’s…she’s pale,” Ivar replies. Floki negates to turn to look at you, waiting for what more is to come. Ivar takes his hands to scrub the tears out of his eyes before speaking again:

“She’s in the same uniform,”

“She wears and identical uniform, Ivar. Every day,”

“No—no she washes it after work. Right after work—she’s through the door and…and it’s in the wash before anything else. I always—I always kiss her shoulder when she’s done and she said—she wants a tattoo there now because it’s so reparative. It drives me up the fucking wall too because sometimes…she just washes it alone, or I’ve done my laundry already and then she’s there, taking off her uniform,”

You watch Ivar. You watch him explain something to Floki with the intensity through his features, a passion to his words and you wonder what on earth he could be talking about.  

“The color is always brighter after the wash, and it’s always dim when she comes home from work. Like…like she’s so excited to go into the job she loves, and even though she’s drained when she comes home, she does it all again because that’s who she is,”

“Ivar,” Floki tries. 

“And it’s so dim right now, Floki—her uniform, her face, everything is so fucking dim because of me. And this is killing me, because I can hardly move and—and I keep trying to tell my legs to move but they’re ignoring me. And if this kills me, it’s going to kill her. Where will she find that color if I die, Floki?” Ivar finally cries.

Floki’s eyes water, inhaling deeply as he watches the little boy he remembers cry in front of him.

“Ivar,” Floki says. “Let’s stand up, and we’ll go from there,” 

And Ivar nods. Without even thinking about the sentence, he nods every so slightly that Floki almost misses it. 

Stunned for a moment, Floki swallows, mentally patting himself on the shoulder as he straightens. He puts a hand on Ivar’s shoulder, squeezing for a second before he abandons his bag on the chair and turns to the hallway. Opening the door and cleaning his throat he looks at both you, and Thora.

“Think you can help him stand, Y/N?” Floki asks. In all honesty, you’re quite positive you’re imagining it. “Y/N?” Floki asks again.

“Help him…help him stand?” You ask.

“Did I stutter?” Floki tries. You inhale, standing as Thora follows you. But before she can follow you into the room, Floki cuts off her path. 

“Give them a second,” He winks. “Can I buy you a cup of coffee?” Floki asks her.

“Hi,” Ivar says to you softly.

“Hi, Ivar,” You say back to him as he finally looks up at you. “Oh, Ivar…” You trail off, taking the pad of your thumb to wipe the tear that spills. He melts into your hand at an instance, leaning against your palm as if you’re taking away every ounce of discomfort for him.

“I don’t want to kill you,” Ivar mumbles.

“What?” You ask.

“I don’t want to kill you too,” He repeats, as if it makes sense to you, like it does to him. 

“You won’t,” You try.

“If I don’t get better, I will,” He tells you and that’s when it hits you, too. 

“Then lets stand up, just you and me, yeah?” You try.

“Are you allowed to do that?” Ivar asks, stalling.

“I am a medical professional,” You say. “And they can sue me if they think otherwise. I’ll move the blanket, you don’t have to look, alright?” You tell him and Ivar nods. 

It aches Ivar as he feels you pull the sheet from his leg, relishing in the fact that he can feel it; he can feel the cold air against his skin, but he won’t look. You eyes scan his legs, still wrapped in dressings, less stitches than you remember and you gently place you hand on his thigh.

“You feel that?” You ask and Ivar nods. Your mind takes over, as if he is a patient in your care and you asses is pedal pulse, two fingers on the top of his foot and it’s strong. “Can you feel that?” You whisper and Ivar nods, still looking directly at you. Only at you. You take your knuckle against the ball of his foot, tracing from heel to toe lightly, and back down again. “How about that?” And he nods, a glimmer of a smirk to his lips at how it tickles him. “Can you move your toes for me?” You then ask him, and Ivar does—eyes still not leaving yours. He watches how your eyes water, and you recall asking him similar questions in the heat of the crash’s aftermath and how he slurred a response. 

“Can you roll your ankles at all?” You whisper. And you watch them rotate, just as you ask. You take you thumb to his nail bed, pressing against his toe to watch the capillary refill in almost perfect time. And the whole time, Ivar’s eye never leave your face. “Alright,” You squeak. “I’ll help you swing them slowly,”

“Wait,” Ivar says suddenly. “Come here,” And you obey. His hands stretch towards you, taking up your cheeks as he brushes the hair from your face, and wiping under your eyes. He pulls you in then, his lips just brushing yours and you can’t help the small cry that escapes, that’s caught between the two of you before it’s swallowed with the kiss.

“I love you,” Ivar whispers.

“I love you, too,”

“Now I’m ready,” Ivar tells you.

Your hands are nearly hot coals against his legs, as you try to be as gentle as possible with your heart rate nearly pounding in your ears. You have half a mind to stop, to pull out your phone so you can record it but you don’t want to ruin the moment. 

“Fuck, that tile is a lot colder than I thought it would be,” Ivar grumbles and it makes you laugh. “If I fall, you know you’re going to fall with me, right?”

“Gee, Ivar, I hadn’t really thought of that,” You say sarcastically and there’s a glare from his face that you don’t realize how much you have missed until that moment.

With his feet on the floor you repeat the same movements, assess, feeling, having him move his toes and his ankles and all the while Ivar won’t look at his legs. Adjusting his hospital gown, you position his hand to grip the railing, and you put your shoulder under his opposite arm. 

“Ready?” You ask.

“Not really,” Ivar admits. 

“If you think you’re going to fall, just sit back down, alright?” 

“You ever done this before?” Ivar asks, stalling.

“Only at least once a day while I’m on duty,” You answer. 

“I don’t know if I can—”

“Ivar, not today,” You state. “We’re not doing this today, we’re not doubting ourselves,” And Ivar inhales. “On three, yeah?”

“Baby—”

“Ivar,” You say sternly, catching his eyes. “You can do this. You can stand up. It’ll get you that much closer to coming home,” 

“Alright,” Ivar peeps.

“One, two…two and a half…three,” You finally say. And as you hold your breath your barrel your feet down against the ground, taking Ivar’s weight as you help to lift him. You watch the muscles in his arm tense, the veins popping into view as he pushes himself to be flat on his feet. And for a moment, time freezes, and Ivar stands. 

He stands.

“Fuck,” Ivar hisses. “It’s worse than pins and needles,” He groans. 

“Lean some of your weight on me,” You tell him. And he does. “Alright, good, now shift some back against the bed,” You then say. As Ivar follows your command you take your free arm and you reach for the walker that’s collecting dust by his bed. 

“We’re going to switch, and you’re going to push your weight through your hands against the walker, alright?”

“No—I’ll fall,” Ivar tries.

“On three, yeah?”

“Y/N,” Ivar tells you but you know better this time than to let him pull himself out of the moment. You move the device in front of him and he follows suit without argument, grunting slightly as he moves his hand from the rail to the handle. Slowly you help him bring the other hand down, catching his weight before he’s standing on his own, hands gripping the bars for dear life. 

And you laugh—in sheer shock you look at Ivar standing before you.

“Ivar!” You exclaim. “You’re standing, you’re—you’re fucking standing!”

Ivar has a look of discomfort across his face, mixing with the anguish and what feels like slight embarrassment while you reward him for what he thinks is the most basic fucking thing.

“Where do you hurt?” You ask quickly, searching his face.

“Do you want to guess?” Ivar snaps at you. His breathing rate increases as he feels his palms get sweaty and he worries he’s going to lose his balance.

“I’m right here, Ivar,” You tell him. 

“I’m standing,” He finally croaks. “I’m actually—standing,” And there’s a smile on his face. 

You move yourself to his vision, reaching through your toes to kiss his chin and you smile back at him. 

“I told you,” You whisper to him, and Ivar sees that color come back to your face.

“Where’s Floki?” Ivar asks.

“Did you really think I would go that far, eh?” Floki sings from the hallway. 

“Floki—I’m standing,” Ivar says in disbelief. “You have to call Hvitserk,” He adds.

“My phone is a bit busy right now,” Floki hums, and you notice then, where his bag sits abandoned in his chair, his phone sits just outside of it, propped up, and recording. 

Tags:

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full masterlist can be found here.

[procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics]

Tarot

Summary: Your day at the fair has been pretty slow – until a client like no other shows up.

Taglist: @majesticwren @obsessiveformiyatwins @leithdragon @demon-of-the-ancient-world @alicedopey @ivarlover @levithestripper @batmandallyboy @akayxo09 (hmu to be added to any taglist!)

Masterlist | based on this request | requests are OPEN!

You can hear them arguing outside the tent. One of the men telling the other to go in, while the other argues that tarot and palmistry is bullshit anyway. Seconds later, a man in crutches angrily storms in, sitting down in front of you with a huff.

The other man follows, sitting down and calmly straightening out his black skirt while the first rages on about the stupidity of all of this.

“Hello.” You greet simply. “Do you want your cards read or not?”

“He does, yes. My brother is just a little stubborn in these things.” The taller man cuts in.

“I don’t need someone to tell me that there will be a car parked on the handicap spot again in a few weeks.” The man with crutches hissed.

“What’s your name?” you continue calmly, as if he isn’t going on a rampage against what you’re about to do.

“Ivar. This idiot is my brother Hvitserk.” He replies, pointing behind him.

Beginning to shuffle the cards, you take your time committing Ivar to memory. He’s handsome in a dangerous type of way. The kind of man that would hold a knife to your throat out of jealousy.

Lying out the cards in front of you, you catch him glance at you.

“How long is this going to take?” he demands.

“Depends on how interesting you are.” You shrug.

“I am interesting, thank you very much.” Ivar snaps.

“You are.” You confirm, motioning to the cards. “It says here that you’ve had a few past lives, in all of which you struggled to make romantic connections due to your brashness. Like in this life.”

Ivar falls silent, and Hvitserk gives him a side-eyed glance that you recognize as a brotherly “I-told-you-so”.

“Is that right?” he mutters.

“Yeah. You don’t fall in love easy, because you don’t trust easy. And you struggle with your confidence and love life due to your legs. You think they make you unlovable. On the bright side, the self-hatred isn’t as strong as in your past lives. Especially your viking past life was bad. Everyone around you judged you for them.”

“Do you see any romance in his future?” Hvitserk asked.

“Yeah, I do, actually. Not too far from now.” You reply.

“See, that’s good news.” He tells his brother, who only rolls his eyes.

“You have a bad habit of anger outbursts.” You continue, unbothered. “Which is why you’re clenching your fist under my table. That’s habitual from your past lives as well.”

“Anything else you want to criticize?” the man in front of you snaps.

“No, I was about to come to the good parts of you actually. You’re fiercely loyal, especially to Hvitserk and your mother. You’re a fighter too, and you’ll defend those you care about to an extreme extent. You’re a family man – or well, you want to be. Partly because you believe in legacy and partly because you want to do better than your father.”

“Do me!” Hvitserk exclaims enthusiastically.

“Are you sure?” you ask, shuffling the cards again. Hvitserk nods, handing over the payment for four readings – an atrocious amount for the fact he’s only getting two.

“So, let’s see…” you begin, laying down the cards in front of you again. Immediately, the Fool draws your eyes.

“You’re an optimist, even though you’ve gotten to incredibly low points in your life. You believe in second chances, because you’ve needed them yourself. You’re also loyal, and in many of your past lives, you’ve been connected to Ivar. This isn’t the first time the two of you are brothers either. You struggle with finding balance, and tend to draw things into the extreme, but you’re good with making friends and connections, making up for your brother’s introspective personality.”

“That cuts it pretty close.” Hvitserk nods. “Now, about Ivar’s future love life.”

“Yes?” you reply.

“Has he met this person yet?” Hvitserk asks. Using your pendulum, you try to give him the best answer you can.

“He has. Though they haven’t been acquainted long. Their relationship will be a paradox of ideas, but they’ll complement each other well.”

“And will they go to a coffee shop for their first date?” Hvitserk asks.

“That’s a little too specific and trivial.” You reply. “But they’ll go on a date soon.”

“You know, our mother practiced Old Norse paganism.” He said. “She had a knack for fortune telling, and she always says I’m the one who inherited her gift.”

“Really?” you ask.

“Yeah. In fact, my intuition is currently telling me that Ivar and his new relationship needs a little help.” Hvitserk continues. Ivar’s eyes snap to his brother, as if he is expecting something, and you can see the idea forming in his head.

“Actually, Ivar would love to take you out for sushi sometime. He loves seafood, and so do you, so it’s perfect! Alternatively, he’d be happy with pizza as well.”

“Declining isn’t on the table, I suppose?” you say jokingly. Ivar shakes his head almost immediately, before staring at the floor.

“This tent is stuffy anyway. So, sushi tonight, Ivar?”

“I’d love to.” He manages. Hvitserk srcibbles down his phonenumber on a piece of paper, but before he can finish, Ivar snatches it from him.

“No one can read that shit.” He snorts, elegantly writing his number down for you.

“I’ll send you the address.” Ivar says, a little more confident. “Be there.”

“I will.” You promise. Who would’ve thought you’d be so terrible at seeing your own future?

[thepaperpanda]

Affected By Music || modern!Ivar the Boneless x fem!reader

Masterlist ❄

Summary: Although Ivar dislikes the Christmas songs you listen to, you somehow convince him that they're not that bad.

Warnings: none

Word count: 1435

Authors: Rouge & Cass

A/N: today’s prompt: enjoying the Christmas music

You sat at the table, trying your best to cut a neat Christmas tree from the thick, green glitter paper you held in your hands - the task was far from easy as the paper was thick enough to be difficult to cut through, even with the kitchen scissors.  You were listening to Last Christmas by Wham! from a radio playing quietly, standing on the windowsill. Throughout the song, you weren't even aware you were rhythmically rocking your foot.

"For Fuck's sake!" Ivar yelled, walking to the radio and turning it off.

Since the morning, the song had been drilling into his brain - he was sick of it. "I will throw the radio out the window if I hear this cursed song again."

After his outburst, you stopped cutting the shape in the paper. You rolled your eyes and said, "Don't be a drama queen today. It's Christmas time! Cherish it! Christmas songs are all over the radio right now in the end, so better get used to this."

"Sweetheart, I see what you mean, but Christmas is only like two days, right?" Ivar looked at you annoyed. "And they start playing this shit on repeat a month before. It's annoying."

"It's not annoying," you replied, putting down the scissors and paper. When you got up, you walked to the windowsill and turned the radio on once more. "... but the very next day you gave it away. This year, to save me from tears, I'll give it to someone special," the song was crooning on the radio.

In a frown, Ivar pulled out the plug to make sure the radio wouldn't play again. "I'm serious Y/N. I'm tired of hearing this song everywhere."

Leaning forward, you pulled the plug from his hand and reconnected it. "That wasn't fair! Why are you always so angry and grumpy?"

"Because it's annoying. When I'm annoyed during a game, you tell me to put on my headphones," Ivar commented. "And I do it because I respect you, so it's your turn to respect me as well."

It annoyed you when Ivar acted like that, and unfortunately he was prone to it quite often. "There's no comparison between the two. Whenever you play your games, you become nervous and show your worst traits. I respect you, but it also goes the other way, doesn't it?"

"So you can open Spotify and put on headphones, sweetheart," Ivar said with a wry grin dancing in the corners of his lips.

It hurt you to hear Ivar's words; you had worked hard to create a festive atmosphere in your shared flat, and Ivar had never been so wry toward you as he was now. "Whenever the weather cools down, I can't wait to hear Christmas music. I even listen to it in the summer when I craft or while I read, because I like this type of music, but if you don't like it, I'll switch to Spotify," you said, unplugging the plug and putting it down on the wooden floor. As you returned to your seat, you got your JBL headphones, put them on, and paired them with your phone.

It was just a stupid song and you acted like you would be locked up in the house, so he rolled his eyes.

While he was happy that it was quiet again, you started humming whatever you were listening to soon after.

You hummed with a smile; your notes fell carefree in the air around you as you were rocking your feet again, this time shaking your head from time to time.

As Ivar let out a heavy sigh, he walked towards you and placed his hand on your back before leaning forward to kiss your lips.

The reaction was unexpected for you, but you returned the kiss. You looked at your boyfriend after removing your headphones. "What was that for?"

"To stop you from humming that cursed song," he raised an eyebrow after explaining.

After exhaling, you made a sad face and rubbed your temples. "Ivar, Ivar." You stood up and went to the kitchen for a glass of orange juice before returning to your seat. After setting the glass on the table's counter, you wrapped your arms around his neck. "You know what?"

As Ivar wrapped his arm around your waist, he muttered, "What?"

You began singing and rocking your hips from left to right, "Last Christmas I gave you my heart..."

"... But the very next day you gave it away," he sang along, shaking his head. "You are an annoying brat, you know that?"

You rubbed your nose against his and reminded him, "This is exactly why you fell in love with me."

"Honestly? I'm not sure if I did the right thing," he said with a sigh, furrowing his brows a little, smirking as he looked down at you.

You climbed on your tiptoes and stole a kiss from his lips, discovering with amusement that his mouth and tongue tasted like the gingerbread you baked the other day. While humming the song, you asked him playfully, "Not too much frosting on the cookies though?"

"Shut up," Ivar scoffed, wrapping his arms fully around you. Slowly, he began to rock with you, humming the song along. "They were a bit sweet."

"Despite their sweetness, you ate them all," you giggled, rubbing his nape.

"Yeah, but I'm sure I'll get sick of their sweetness," he joked.

While you rocked to the beat of the music, you nuzzled his chest and listened to his strong heartbeat.

Before saying anything, Ivar rocked with you for a moment. "I'll let you listen to those annoying Christmas songs if you keep being so cute."

"I will listen to them even if you will be angry with me," you said. "The sweeter you are, the more I would like to apologize to you."

"You're a brat," he sighed and squeezed your hand tightly. "Turn on that radio before I change my mind."

After clapping your hands, you immediately went to do what he told you.

He crossed his arms over his chest, hoping you wouldn't actually turn it on.

Soon, Jingle Bells filled the room with its rhythm and you began bouncing around to the music.

Facepalming, he already regretted that he let you turn the radio on.

Your arms reached out to catch his shoulders and soon you were dancing with Ivar.

As Ivar's hands moved down your back and rested on your ass, he murmured, "I'll never understand why people may consider all those silly, thematically similar songs during Christmas time. They are so fucking annoying!"

"Once the Christmas spirit fills you fully, honey, you will stop finding them irritating and you will realize they are sweet and they help spread that spirit all over," you told him, wrapping your arms around him.

"If you say so," Ivar shrugged lightly, but when Mariah Carey's All I Want for Christmas Is You played on the radio, he closed his eyes and hissed. "No, no, not this fucking one! Sorry, Y/N, but you'll never convince me Mariah isn't annoying. Can you hear this voice? It's so shrill!"

After observing Ivar's reaction, you giggled and tugged on his thick, dark hair, causing him to raise his head, enabling you to kiss his jawline. "I have a little, angry kitten here, haven’t I?”

A sigh escaped Ivar's lips. "We could do something nice together and I'd be happy to let those songs play in the background. What do you think?"

"Ivar, what do you have in mind?"

Smirking mischievously, he tugged at your shirt. "Don't make me beg for it, you know too well."

Obviously, he meant some cuddles with a "happy ending", but you had a cunning idea. I'm sure you'll help me bake gingerbread again to compensate for the fact that you've eaten all of it apparently, and I promised Hvitserk that I would deliver a portion of it to him this Christmas."

Slowly, Ivar's eyebrows rose, and he grunted deeply. "Oh, okaaaay! But later you're mine, in all the fucking ways. And fuck Hvitty, his only ability is to eat all the time, fuck.”

Your lips were tinged with a smile. "That's true, but it's so sweet in my opinion."

"That's cute in your opinion, but you scold me every time I eat anything you cook! And you somehow don't make heart-eyes while speaking about it!” Ivar seemed to get offended.

Ruffling his hair, you asked him to follow you to the kitchen. “Let's stop talking and start baking or I’ll sing All I Want For Christmas Is You all day long!"

[istorkyou]

A Thousand Battles (A Modern!Ivar AU)

A modern!Ivar x F OC (Julietta Lothbrok)

Warnings - NSFW, MINORS DNI. Language. Slight violence.

Synopsis - Julietta wakes up with no memory of her life or her husband, Ivar. Will it ever return? Does she want it to?

Word Count - 4333

This is for @blackseapearl 400 follower trope challenge. I asked for Amnesia :)

Shout Outs - A massive shout out to @blackseapearl and @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie for beta reading, ironing out all the mistakes and the motivation to keep going with it. Special hugs to @blackseapearl for talking through the ending with me and giving me some much needed inspiration and the wonderful moodboard.

This fic kicked (and is still kicking!) my ass, I’ve never had such a hard time with motivation as I have writing this long-ass bitch so I hope you enjoy it :)

It’s also LOOOOOOOONNNGGGGGGGG….. and I’m only the tiniest bit sorry about that!

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

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

CHAPTER 9

The rigmarole of getting through the security of the Gala sets Ivar off, especially when Julietta sets off the metal detector arch and is taken aside to be searched.

“No one touches her,” Ivar warns the security guards menacingly as he steps in front of her, pushing her behind him protectively. “Keep your fucking hands off my wife. She has surgical pins in her arms and that is setting them off.

“Sir, we cannot allow entry unless she is properly searched and we are satisfied there are no weapons about her person. Please do not obstruct us.”

“Get a hand held metal detector and wave it over her. The only part of her that will make it beep is her upper right arm which is held together by pins because of a car accident.”

She raises onto her tiptoes and places her lips by his ears and whispers, “Let them do it, I’m not bothered and it’s protocol. I’m no different to anyone else. Okay?” He turns his face towards her, deciding what to do, and when she gives him an encouraging nod he turns back to the security team

“Touch her inappropriately and you die.”

The guard nods tersely and sweeps his hands over her body. He then gets the handheld metal detector and what happens is exactly what Ivar described, beeping over the scar tissue set off by the pins under the skin.

“Ok, ma’am. You may go in. Thank you for your compliance.”

Ivar's arm encircles her waist as he guides her into the great hall, but not before making a note of the guard's name tag

In the banquet hall they find the rest of the family and Ivar hands her a glass of champagne. “To us,” he holds his out and she toasts with him.

“To us.” She takes a sip and looks around the party. There are clear factions, groups clustered together, eyes sweeping the other, surveying the attendees, marking up the enemies in the room.

Ragnar approaches her. “Things will be less tense once the alcohol flows later. I know the atmosphere is crackling right now, Julietta but don’t worry. Is this helping your memory? Do you recognise anyone?”

“Have I been here before? How would I recognise anyone if I haven’t?” she questions and catches the tiniest squint of Ragnar's eyes.

An hour later and Ragnar was right, the atmosphere has changed, still charged but less segregation of the groups, meaning business is being spoken about, deals being made. She is surveying the room when she feels Ivar close behind her, his breath in her hair, his hand grips her waist. “Hello beautiful. Dance?”

“You want to dance here?” she asks with an amused voice.

“I want to dance with you anywhere. Come on, baby.” He grabs her hand and leads her to the dance floor, into the crowd of other couples dancing closely.He pulls her against him, his right to him wrapped around her waist. He sighs happily and she relaxes into him.

“You look so sexy in that dress I can’t wait to get you home later.” He places a small kiss on her exposed shoulder

“Oh yeah? What are you going to do to me later, Ivar?” she asks, letting a hand touch his chest and slowly move it down to stop on his stomach. “Describe it to me.” She enjoys the way his cheeks colour a little. “I know what I want you to do to me.” Her voice is low and sultry.

He moves his face to her ear and whispers, “I am going to make you cum more times than I ever have before. I won’t stop until you can’t take it anymore and you are begging me to stop. How does that sound?” He slides his cheek across hers and kisses her

“That sounds very good,” she replies breathlessly, “let’s go home now!” He throws his head back, laughing at her enthusiasm.

“As soon as we can, love.”

When the song finishes they head back to the family, and soon Ivar is approached by Ubbe, who whispers in his ear. His eyes flit to her and he nods once, taking the few steps that closes the gap between them.

“Baby, I have to go and speak with someone. I’m sorry, I’m needed.” He can see the apprehension in her eyes so he cups her face.

“You said you wouldn’t leave me tonight,” she says petulantly, but she’s covering her feelings of dread at being left alone. She hasn’t seen the stranger from the alley yet but she assumes he is here somewhere and it makes her grip her husband's hand harder.

“I’m sorry, I will be as quick as I can. Stay here with my father, okay? You will be safe with him.”

“Ivar, you said you wouldn’t leave me. You promised.” She repeats.

He kisses her hand. “I won’t be long.” And he leaves. Julietta watches him walk away with a nervous feeling building within her. She’s never been exposed to his business before and strangely, for the first time she’s considering how dangerous it must be for him. Her heartbeat picks up and she wants to run to him to stop him putting himself in harm's way

Her thoughts are interrupted by a quick tap on her shoulder and turns round expecting to see Ragnar's eyes but instead of the crystal blue ones she is looking into the chocolate brown eyes of a man. A tall man with a scar through his right eyebrow and stubble covering his tanned skin.

It’s Lev.

She works her hardest to control her facial expression, her breathing, and fights the urge to run

“Can I help you?” she asks, a tremble in her voice. What is he going to say to her? She glances to the left and sees Ragnar eyeballing the pair of them, clearly gauging her reaction to the stranger.

Lev looks pissed at her, eyebrows drawn together in a deep scowl. “I would like to dance with you.”

She lets out a relieved, high pitched giggle. He doesn’t seem to be there to expose her. She shakes her head and her hand flies to the necklace Ivar gave her earlier.

“I can’t dance with you. I'm a married woman,” she tells him indignantly, looking him up and down.

He raises his eyebrows at her. “Your husband is an insecure man? Doesn’t trust his wife?” His head tips slightly and he smiles menacingly.

His sick little game bursts the calm bubble she is trying to exist in. She looks at him up and down, the man who claims to love her, to know her, but for whom she feels nothing but contempt.

“He’s not insecure at all and he has absolutely no reason to distrust me. It’s inappropriate for me to dance with a stranger,” she snaps at him. Julietta feels hand run up her arm and she closes her eyes, assuming Ivar has returned and for a split second she feels calm again before realising it is Ragnar.

“I do not think my son would mind at all if you had an innocent dance with….”

“Raphael,” Lev replies in a thick Spanish accent.

“With Raphael. Don’t look so worried Julietta, go and have fun.” Ragnar gives her a little nudge towards Lev

“No,” she replies indignantly. “I don’t want to dance, Ragnar. I will not disrespect Ivar and I think you don’t know your son that well if you think he wouldn’t have a problem with this. I will wait here for my husband.”

Ragnar lets out a patronising chuckle and cocks his head to Lev as if apologising for her insolence.

“Nonsense child, off you go. You don’t want to appear rude to a guest of the Gala, do you?” Ragnar flashes his eyes at her. “I must insist.”

Lev doesn’t wait for her answer, he grabs her hand roughly and guides her to the other side of the dance floor, as far away from the Lothbroks as they can get and pulls her to him so her body is flush with his.

“Hello, Etta. I knew you would come tonight. Your curious little mind couldn't stay away, could it?” His eyes are wandering over her face and neck as if he is about to devour her. “My Gods, I want you so badly. I’ve missed your tight little pussy, your dirty little mouth, fuck, I’m getting hard just looking at you.”

She tries to step away from him, repulsed by his words, by the way he is looking at her, at the realisation that he seems to know her so intimately and yet is a total stranger to her. His fingers dig into her waist as she tries to shift away from him

“Where do you think you are going? Did you find the things in your apartment?” he asks in Russian.

“I didn’t look,” she answers stiffly, hoping he doesn’t know her well enough to know she’s lying.

He is staring at her intently. “Always so adept at lying, you know I didn’t have to teach you that? It came naturally to you. You still have no memory?” She shakes her head, turning her head to look at the family but he grabs her jaw and brings her face to his.

She has her hands over his instantly, before she registers it herself and she is digging her nails into a pressure point on his hand which makes his hand drop quickly and he laughs, stretching out his hand.

“I did teach you that though. Don’t look at them. You keep your eyes on me. Do you know how I feel having to watch you dance with that cripple? Watching you let him touch you, kiss you and whisper God knows what into your ear? How dare you do that in front of me, acting as if you actually love him. You have clearly forgotten what I told you about falling in love with him. And stop speaking to me in English. I taught you Russian, you will speak to me in the mother tongue.”

He spins her around on the dance floor and she catches eyes with Ragnar who is watching them closely. She addresses him in English. “I don’t know what you and I were to each other, before my accident, but you need to understand something. Whatever it was is finished, the affair, whatever it was, is done now. I love Ivar, I don’t know who I was before the accident but this me, the one you keep bothering, wants no part of you. Do you understand me?”

He spins her around again so his back is to Ragnar and then his face toughens, turns nasty. “You were mine! Before all this, you were mine. We were in love for years…and I still love you. My Gods, the things we used to do together! You may be married to that cripple but you are mine Etta. My warrior, my fighter, my love. You will remember it’s an assignment and when you do you will run back to me.” He pulls her tight to him again and he moves his head like he is about to kiss her so she shakes his arms off her.

“Assignment? What are you talking about? I don’t believe anything you say,” she hisses in Russian, surprising herself.

“Julietta!” Ivar’s voice shouts behind her far enough away she knows he didn’t hear her speaking Russian. “What is going on here?” He pulls her behind him and faces Lev, who is somehow managing to keep his face neutral despite the hatred she knows he feels towards Ivar

“I wanted to dance with the most beautiful woman in the room, nothing more, nothing less.” Lev has switched back to his fake Spanish accent.

Ivar looks him up and down with disgust. “You make a habit of putting your hands all over married women? You are lucky this evening is a safe haven or I would have put a bullet between your eyes before you even knew I was here. Do you know who I am?”

Lev smirks and replies simply, “yes. You are Ivar Lothbrok.”

“Then you must have a death wish asking my wife to dance with you. We will catch up soon, you and I, in a setting that is much less favourable to you and your disrespect.” Ivar turns to Julietta, sneering and grabbing her hand harshly. He doesn’t say a word, he just walks her briskly back to the family.

“We are leaving,” Ivar announces

Ragnar is still looking at Lev, who, in turn, is watching Ivar and Julietta.

Ivar tries to contain his rage but he doesn’t succeed. He grabs her upper arm and pulls her into him so he can talk quietly to her. “Why the fuck did you dance with him? You’ve humiliated me in front of everyone.”

Before she gets a chance to reply Ragnar interrupts. “Ivar, I gave the okay. That man seems quite besotted with your beautiful wife, didn’t he Julietta? Who is he my dear?” Ragnar questions her with a look of menace and distrust on his face.

Something inside her kicks into gear, she addresses her father in law with an annoyed and covering tone. “Oh you think I know who he is? Very funny Ragnar, I know no one on this fucking Earth apart from your family!” She points her finger at him accusingly. “Don’t put this on me, I told you Ivar wouldn’t like it, didn’t I?” She looks Ragnar up and down in contempt and a rage fills her whole body in a way she’s never felt before.

In her head she watches herself throw her arm around Ragnar's neck and snap it, hear his last breath, see his life force leave. Her conscious mind feels sick at the images playing out.

Ragnar just watches her, as if he can see her thoughts, feel them. A satisfied smile creeps over his face.

Ivar looks between them. “Let’s go. I’m done with this night.” Ivar grips her arm and they leave the Gala, not noticing Lev's gaze following them.

In the car on the way home they are both silent but the tension is so thick it could be cut with a knife. The silence gives her a chance to process what Lev told her. They were in love, before she met Ivar. He referred to Ivar as an ‘assignment’ again

Her ability to speak Russian, an assignment? Surely it can’t mean what she thinks it means… she needs to look at the stuff she found in her apartment. She could be a….

“So. You think it’s appropriate to humiliate me in company? In front of our allies and rivals? To dance with another man?” Ivar’s voice trembles with rage, his knuckles white with the force he is gripping his crutch, but his face is still turned towards the window. “I’m a joke to you?”

“Ivar, please. You know you aren’t a joke, I love you…”

His gaze turns to her. “You fucking love me but you allow another man get close to you?” His eyes travel up and down her with an unmistakable look of disgust.

It flares her anger again. “Your fucking father made me, I said no twice and your father practically pushed me into him! Gods, get a handle on your temper when you are talking to me. I don’t appreciate your tone.”

“I don’t appreciate my wife getting pawed by another man in front of half the city like a common fucking whore.”

Whore.

Whore.

The word bounces around her brain like a ball on a squash court.

Whore. The rage the word ignites in her gut causes her to slap him hard across the face. “Fuck you, Ivar. You are bunch of fucking wolves. All of you! Business was so important that you broke your promise to not leave me alone at the Gala knowing who could have been there! Your father offered me up like a lamb to the slaughter for Gods knows what purpose but I’m fucking sure it was a business one. If you have an issue with me dancing with another man tonight you take it up with your father. He forced me to do it. I told him no but apparently that word isn’t in his vocabulary!” 

Ivar rubs his cheek, clearly in shock at her actions, but she barrels on, undeterred.

“Don’t you ever dare to call me a whore again. You may have a reputation but do not for one second think I’m scared of you or will allow you to speak to me like I’m dirt. Like I’m less of a human than you. Fucking whore??

She stares at him, waiting for his reply but it doesn’t come. He just continues to hold his face and stare at her dumbfounded, so she rips her chin high and spends the rest of the ride home watching the city get smaller, biting back tears she sure as shit will not allow to fall now. In front of him.

------------------------------------

Ivar doesn’t get out at their house, he doesn’t say a word, she just watches the car drive towards the main house so she assumes he is staying there for the night.

Entering their house and runs to her closet, heart beating so hard from the adrenaline that she thinks it might tear through her skin. Julietta finally takes out the notebook and the phone from the hiding place. Unsurprisingly the phone is dead and she doesn’t want to risk plugging it in to charge out in case Ivar comes back tonight.

She looks first at the notebook she found hidden under her mattress. Pages and pages of nonsense, written not in English or Russian as she expected, but what seems like a code, she only recognised the dates in the corners of the pages, starting from 2012, the year she met Ivar. She scouts every page for the key but doesn’t find one. She throws it down in frustration and picks up the notebook that Lev knew about. Inside it is full of Russian writing, at least she can read that. It’s pages of dates, times, locations, names of people and companies. Each page is dated and they start from before she moved onto the estate, before the accident. She flips through all the pages and around a year in the page dates are getting longer apart, not days now, weeks sometimes months and when they are entries the information on them are less detailed. No more names, fewer locations. After their wedding date there are only two more entries.

She keeps flicking through hoping to find help to decipher the other notebook but nothing.

Her breathing has calmed now, her heartbeat raised but less so. She takes the notebook with the Russian writing and tucks it into her dress, she stashes the other notebook back in its hiding spot along with the phone.

Her feet carry her outside and she turns on the fire pit as her brain tries to offer up any alternative reasonable conclusion than the one she has already come to.

She was leaking information to Lev and whoever the fuck he works for. Who she worked for. Her heart breaks at the realisation: she was selling Ivar and his family out.

Why would she do that? To what end?

She turns the notebook over in her hands and almost throws it into the fire but at the last minute decides against it. If she has to tell Ragnar about herself she will show him what she divulged

She is going to die because of this, the family will kill her. She puts her head in her hands and sobs.

She knows she needs to pull herself together, hide the evidence until she can figure out what she needs to do. How she can handle this new information about herself. She knows she can’t barrel into this, she needs to be smart.

-------------------------------------

Ivar waits in his father's office. Drinking more of the expensive whisky in the crystal decanter than he should, certainly more than he should if he wants to feel half decent in the morning.

He hears Ragnar and Aslaug come home an hour later and he hauls himself to the office door and waits for his father to see him.

“Ah Ivar, I thought you would be here.” He turns to Aslaug. “I will be with you after I have spoken to our son.”

“Ivar, just hear your father out,” Aslaug pleads but Ivar doesn’t reply, he turns back into the office and drops into the chair opposite his father's desk. When Ragnar shuts the door Ivar explodes.

“You made her dance with him! Did you enjoy my humiliation, father? Revel in my shame? In front of the whole fucking city? I fucking hate you!” Ivar continues to scream at his father until his throat grows hoarse whilst Ragnar sits calmly and takes it all. When Ivar screams himself silent Ragnar holds up his hands.

“Son. There was a reason. That man didn’t take his eyes off your wife all night. He barely contained his anger watching you dance with her. I saw the rage in him when you were kissing her, he started to head towards you but he managed to hold himself back. I asked around to find out who he is, no one knew who he worked for but he had a valid ticket. He knows her, Ivar. Or he used to. I needed to see if she knew him.”

“Of course she doesn’t, she doesn’t know anyone here but us and a handful of people from the gym.”

“I couldn’t read her. I couldn’t tell if she was so uncomfortable dancing with him because he was a stranger or because there is a history. He grabbed her jaw, Ivar. He turned her face away from us when they were talking, that’s not an act one stranger does to another.”

“What fucking history? What are you implying?”

“I don’t know but I know the look of jealousy on a man’s face caused by a woman. He watched her for an hour from the corner. I thought at one point he was going to follow you when you went to talk business but I watched him change his mind. He used your absence as an opportunity to get to her. That’s why I allowed it.

Ivar thinks hard for a few seconds. “Was she looking at him?”“She glanced his way but I couldn’t decipher if it was because of the intensity he was watching her or if she recognised him. Talk to her. You know her the best. Ask her if she knows him, Ivar. I’m either wrong or she’s a very talented liar. I hope it’s the former.”

-------------------------------------

When Ivar gets home he hears the television coming from their bedroom. He walks quietly down the hall and into the bedroom, stopping at the door to the walk in closet. When she spots him he sees her take in a massive breath and when she exhales it seems like all the fight, the resentment at his words and actions goes with it. He can see she’s been crying, her eyes are rimmed red and her eyelids are puffy. As her face breaks and more tears flow she holds her hands out to him and he doesn’t wait even a fraction of a second to go to her, pulling her into his arms.

“I’m sorry if I embarrassed you by dancing with that man, I didn’t want to, I promise. I’m sorry I slapped you.”

“I’m sorry I called you that name, I won’t ever call you anything like that ever again. I’m sorry I was so mad at you, I was so jealous when I saw him near you. He was looking at you like he was going to kiss you and I just lost it. I’m sorry.”

Julietta reaches behind him and pulls his necklace off the side and shows it to him. “You took it off. You said it was safe at the Gala and you only take this off when it’s dangerous.” He doesn’t reply, just shrugs. “Here, let me put it back on for you.

Her hands snake behind his neck and she looks up into his eyes, which are boring into hers, making her hands wobble as she tries to do up the clasp.

Ivar reaches up as if to stroke her cheek but he actually grabs her face hard and moves close to her, running his nose along hers. “Who is he, Liet?” he says in a sweet voice that doesn’t match his face at all. His face is as dark as the midnight sky.

As her breath catches in her chest things move in slow motion. She feels the necklace slip from her trembling hands, sees the necklace fall from his neck and her eyes follow it as it bounces on the floor.

The familiarity of this situation makes something crack.

Then the floodgates in her brain open.

Memories drowning her, filling her completely, no space left for oxygen even. Snapshot of her life before the accident zooming at her like she is standing in the middle of a motorway, memories hurtling towards her dangerously.

Her parents. Their deaths. Letters. Meeting her real father. Realising what kind of man he is. Meeting Lev. Love with Lev. Training. Her new life. Violence. Meeting Ivar. The circumstances. The wedding. Seeing Lev in secret. Her accident. Seeing who was behind the wheel of the car that hit her.

“Liet! Julietta!” Ivar is shaking her violently, his voice sounds like it’s coming from far away, the blood rushing through her ears is the only thing she can hear properly. Suddenly her vision goes sharp, before the edges get dark, her vision decreasing, slowly being taken over by the blackness until her vision is no more than a pin prick.

Then nothing.

Chapter 10

[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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