filthyivarrtrash

[filthyivarrtrash]

yapasaurus

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im playing through the game for the first time having gone in blind, this is also my first ac game. im so thankful your blog exists

Thank you so much ☺️

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Homecoming

The moon was high and bright as Ivarr stepped onto the creaking wooden dock. Leaping from the dragon boat without breaking his stride, he ignored the calls of the guards that hailed him and announced his arrival to the rest of the village in his haste. His thoughts consumed with nothing more than reaching the longhouse and the fur strewn bed that cradled his slumbering Queen. Indeed he had travelled through the night from his concluded business in Jorvik to get here, forsaking the arrival of the dawn to speed himself home.

As he approached his high house he bade his entourage be silent and the Thralls and servants disperse and return to their beds. To leave his wife sleeping and unaware of his arrival. Letting his heavy cloak fall to the floor forgotten as he crossed the feast hall, his axes and knives were placed carefully on a table before he continued his journey to her chamber. His leathers, unbuckled and hastily discarded. Ivarrs hurried steps quieted as he approached the curtain that separates the hall from the private rooms he shared with his precious Saxon treasure and moved it aside almost reverently with his fingertips. Peering inside, the scene blooms a warmth in his chest that he doesn’t try to suppress. A slow, soft smile graces his scarred, battle worn face. The embers of the dying fire barely cast a glow over her sweet face as she sleeps. His wife. His strength. His woman.

He advances silently towards her, marveling at her supine beauty. At her grace and elegance even in sleep. A beauty ethereal in the dim light that illuminates his mischievous blue eyes. He sits carefully beside her, sinking into the extravagantly soft feather bed, he cages her in with his strong arms either side of her ribs, leaning in to bury his nose in her silken hair, inhaling deeply and letting the exquisite scent that is her bring him home.

His lips find her ear, brushing against the shell as he murmurs. “If I wanted to…” he pauses deliciously, wetting his lips with his tongue before continuing to voice his softly whispered seductive threats,“I could kill you before you wake, my spoiled little d…”

Then, he smiles indulgently. A hint of pride in his eyes when he feels the sharp point of a blade pricking the skin of his chest. One push and it would all be over. The thought makes his arousal throb with need.

Her eyes flutter open and she bites her lip as she giggles, “Oh, husband,” she chides playfully, “You taught me better than that.”

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grumby & grumbier

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We could be slaughtering, pillaging, raiding, and looting, but instead, you befriend the local corvids - Ivarr, probably.

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"What do you call this place?"

"I call it The Shithole. To the Mercians, it is Repton."

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"You've got me all figured out."

"I know your type, Wolf-Kissed."

•••

If you choose the "I'm not about to pick sides" dialogue option during Rumors of Ledecestre, they share a cute exchange before Eivor runs off to investigate the church & bathhouse. 😊

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So. I’m walking through the living room and my partner is playing Rainbow Six.

This guy stopped me in my tracks.

Ivarr? Wtf are you up to Ubisoft 😂

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I made a noise

I'll try to re-record a better gif without the HUD & in daytime one day but pls enjoy this gif of Ivarr headbutting a Skull-Crusher :)

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Coloring: Nightcall by GoldenxDream

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“He’s mocking you man. I’d kill the fucker.” -Ivarr, AC Valhalla

Hands down best line in the assassin’s creed franchise

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River Raids with Ivarr: steal it if it’s nailed down, kill it if it fights back

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Prologue

Masterlist

Blood.

There was blood everywhere.

The floor, the walls, the ceiling, the furniture, everything was covered in your parents' blood. You could only helplessly witness the macabre scene unfolding before your eyes. Your father was lying on the floor, the back of his head was sunken, his left eye was literally sticking out of its socket, your poor mother was being beaten up, the mad man was screaming incomprehensible words. You closed your eyes, covering your ears as you begged the gods for someone to help you. You couldn't prevent a little cry of terror from escaping your lips when you heard the man turn over the whole house, destroying the furniture and objects that came to hand. The man kept breaking everything and knocking it over. He seemed to be searching for something. What was he looking for? You stayed hidden in the closet, waiting for the crazy man to give up and decide to leave. You stayed in the closet until sunrise.

You woke up with a start when you heard someone banging on your bedroom door. You heard Randvi's muffled voice, telling you that it was time for you to get up and that Eivor was back before returning to his activities. You had no choice but to leave your warm bed to get dressed for this new day. You put on your warmest clothes before leaving your room to greet your adoptive father, King Styrbjorn, but when you arrive in the hall, you surprise him chatting with Guthorm The Wise. This man was the sage and uncle of King Harald. What was he doing here?

"Sister."

You turned to Eivor, the Drengr was smiling at you and wasted no time in hugging you. Your smile quickly faded seeing his coquard and his split lip. He patted your shoulder, letting you know he was fine. Guthorm The Wise left the longhouse, passing you and Eivor.

"Eivor, come forward. And explain in plain words why you have willfully disobeyed my commands," Styrbjorn ordered as he sat down on his throne. "Do you mock me?"

"I do not mock you, king. I mean to embolden you… Against your enemies. And your own poor judgment," Eivor replied nonchalantly.

"You know nothing af my judgment. You know nothing of my plans and strategies."

"Sigurd and (Y/N) would agree with me."

"I am," you say, glaring at Styrbjorn.

"(Y/N) silence! My son might agree with you, but he would obey me. He knows his place."

"Not as well as he knows his father."

"Imagine you are harassed by an enemy with warriors that vastly outnumber you own. What profit does open war bring?" asked the king, eyeing his adopted son. "Would it no be better to work quietly, through diplomacy, gaining alliances? Waiting until the day our numbers outweigh our enemies' and our victory is guaranteed?"

"Do we have any allies to speak of? Or is that your excuse to do nothing?" Eivor asked, clenching his fists.

"You confidence blinds you to so much in plain sight, Eivor," King Styrbjorn said, rising from his seat. "Day and night I toil to forge ties with clans to the north. Very soon you will see the fruits of my efforts. Only then will you understand."

You rolled your eyes when you heard that. It sounded like a stupid excuse to avoid fighting. Your adoptive father's behavior was suspicious. Why had he invited Guthorm here? This man's nephew was a king. What does he intend to do with a king from another land? You were snapped out of your thoughts when you heard the bugle sound. What was happening? Randvi quickly entered the longhouse, announcing Sigurd's boat had arrived at the docks. After two years of absence, he was finally back. You didn't have time to head for the door when Eivor lifted you off the ground, throwing you on his shoulder and starting to run towards the docks. Some people gave you a puzzled or stern look when they saw the king's adopted son running towards the docks with you, perched on his shoulder, like a vulgar potato sack. Sigurd was doing the same with you. It was a habit your brothers had picked up. As soon as they wanted to show you something or run away, they would throw you over their shoulder. Their excuse?

"You are light as a feather, sister."

"We're going to have to make you eat more."

Wolf-Kissed set you free once you got to the dock. You glared at him as your foster brother kissed your cheek apologetically. You just rolled your eyes when your attention fell on Sigurd's boat. He was unloading the treasures and memories he had brought back from his trip around the world. You were approaching the ship when you saw two people dressed in white clothes. Who were his men? Why had Sigurd brought them here? You were snapped out of your thoughts when you heard Sigurd calling you and Eivor. Your brother hurried down from his ship, nudging one of his men, who had had the misfortune to get in his way, to hug Eivor.

"Oh, look at you, blood-soaked drengr. Have you been warring without me?"

"Ah, and you, salt-cured vikingr. I smell the stink of a kingdoms in your beard," Eivor replied, returning the hug to his adopted brother.

"It's just the start," Sigurd replied letting go of Eivor to turn to you. "Eivor, who is this sublime woman?"

"I told you he took too many blows to the head," you said, glaring at Eivor who was watching you having fun.

"It can't be you (Y/N). You were just a little girl when I left."

"A lot of things change in two winters," Eivor commented as he put his arm around your shoulders. "Isn't it, sister?"

"Unfortunately," you said pulling Eivor's arm away to hug Sigurd. "Welcome back, Sigurd."

Sigurd let go of you to greet Randvi, his dearest wife, telling her that her husband had returned with gifts and riches. Randvi added that he also brought new friends with him. Sigurd turned to the men in question who were approaching. Your brother introduced them: Basil and Hytham. They had met them at Mikligard. The so-called Basim spoke up, saying that he and his apprentice were grateful to Sigurd for his invitation and were eager to pay their respects to the king. Eivor explained that his brother took care of the people around him, if they were standing and safe near him, that must mean he liked them. Sigurd laughed, telling his brother to wait until they were full for introductions. He put his arm around Eivor and Randvi's shoulders. The Wolf-Kissed put his arm around your shoulders, taking you with them. Sigurd wasted no time in saying that they had bartered a ship and told them that Eivor, the Wolf-Kissed, had been captured by Kjotve's men. To which Eivor replied that that wasn't the whole story, he explained that he killed his guardians and freed his crew. Which earned him the reproaches of King Styrbjorn. Sigurd knew his brother's opinion: only war can drive Kjotve from their lands. You nodded, telling Sigurd that you had overheard his father talking with Guthorm The Wise. Your adopted brother looked at you surprised by what you had just said. He nodded slightly, saying that things were going to change today, that by the end of winter, only goons and drunks would still utter the name Kjotve the Cruel. The group arrived at the longhouse, Styrbjorn coming out to welcome his son with open arms.

"My son. Welcome home," he said, hugging Sigurd.

"Ah, Father."

"Tonight we feast and celebrate your return, Sigurd. The tables are laid with barley and lamb, bread and mead-"

"And no more," Sigurd cut in. "I want nothing you would not serve a thrall. Let me be the one to honor you. I bring gifts and tales from faraway lands. After two winters away, I am full up with both."

"Very well, very well. Come inside," Styrbjorn prompted as he walked towards the door of the longhouse.

"And when are fat and satisfied, Father, we will talk of Kjotve and his clan," Sigurd said, causing his father to stop. "And how we may end their terror, once and for all. He has dogged us too long. Shamed us for too many seasons. I know this. (Y/N) knows this. Eivor knows this. It ends now."

Styrbjorn looked sternly at his son following this tirade.

"Yes, of course," he replied, rolling his eyes. "Where the time is right."

You rolled your eyes, this guy had no sense of priorities. You decide to go back to your room, you hated this kind of gathering. Sigurd and Eivor knew it, they never forced you to participate in their events. You knew that Sigurd would take the time to tell you all about the adventure he had during his two winters. You traded your skills for the tunic you stole from Eivor. A sigh escaped your lips as you settled down at your desk, starting to write in your diary, describing your dreams, the course of your day, Sigurd's return, and the fact that King Styrbjorn was up to something. . You put down your quill, pinching the bridge of your nose. You were tired of Norway and this adoptive father who did nothing to ensure the safety of his family. It was his fault that Kjotve had attacked eighteen years ago. It was also his fault if your family… No, you shouldn't have thought about that. You shook your head pushing his thoughts out of your mind. You didn't have to think about that night anymore, you had to forget. You closed your diary, deciding it was time for you to go to bed. You put out the candles and got into bed for the night. The music and the voices were muffled by the walls and the door, but strangely, it reassured you. You fell asleep, exhausted by this eventful day.

"His parents didn't survive. He slaughtered them," Varin said as he tossed the last rags into the fire. "Oddmund and Alvheid are unrecognizable. Their daughter saw it all, my King. She saw her parents being slaughtered!"

"Have you found this man?" asked Styrbjorn.

"No, he managed to escape. We're still looking for him."

You were sitting on the edge of Eivor's bed, staring at a fixed point. Why did such a thing have to happen? Why did your parents have to die this way? Because of the mad man, your parents couldn't join Valhalla. Why did this man decide to kill your parents?

"(Y/N), you're hungry?" Eivor asked as he entered the room with a bowl of stew. "Mother made stew with deer meat."

"I'm not hungry," you say, lowering your head.

Eivor came to sit next to you, holding the bowl on his lap. The boy didn't know what to tell you. Your parents were given a funeral worthy of a Viking. Rosta tried to reassure you, telling you that Odin will undoubtedly have accepted your parents in Valhalla despite their death. You knew it was impossible. They had not had their ax in their hand. But there was one thing you couldn't understand.

"Why did they die? Why did the guy decide to kill them? Why?"

"I don't know," Eivor replied. "Father and some other men are looking for him. He can't be far away and he's going to pay for what he did!"

You turned to Eivor, your friend smiling at you as he handed you the bowl of stew. You picked up the bowl, starting to eat a few spoonfuls. Eivor reassured you, saying that he had overheard a conversation between his parents who had discussed adopting you.

Your dream dissipated in a black mist, your eyelids opened when you heard someone knocking at your door. You sat down, letting the covers fall over your lap. You left your warm bed to go about your routine, swapping your tunic for your warmest clothes before leaving your room to find Randvi. You were surprised to find that Eivor and Sigurd were absent.

"Where are Eivor and Sigurd?" you asked taking bread.

"They've gone to Nottfall. Kjotve sent men to kill us while we slept. Eivor is to take care of them. Now his head will fall off," she said, smiling at you.

"Finally, we're going to be freed from a burden," you say, giving the king a stern look. "

It took until Sigurd's return for things to finally move. Kjotve had been a problem for too long. Once rid of him, Scandinavia will be better off. You noticed that King Styrbjorn seemed nervous. You decided to ignore him, preferring to focus on your day. You went to the stables to take care of your horse: Dǫglingr. This horse was one of a kind. He was a wild horse that many men tried to ride him, but each time he reared, knocking out those who tried to ride him. You were the only one Dǫglingr allowed to ride him. You loved this horse, you decided to build it Dǫglingr because of its attitude. You put the saddle on his back, prepared his harnesses before mounting him and leaving the village to go to the heights of Sjaleng. You had to talk to the völva. You got along well Valka as well as his mother: Svala. When you were a child, you often went to see Svala and Valka to tell them about your nightmares and tell them about your questions about that night and the mad man. You arrived in front of the cabin, you climbed down from Dǫglingr's back, tying him to a post before going to see your friend. You entered the cabin, finding Valka trying to communicate with the Gods. You saw Svala, sitting on a bench, seeming lost in thought.

"(Y/N). It's been a long time my friend," Valka greeted, stepping closer to you.

"Valka. How is Svala?" you asked, turning your attention to your friend's mother.

"Her mind is a jumbke. She speaks to spirits. I fear her final winter has come. But she has me. Now let us speak to your needs, (Y/N). Why did you come to see me?"

"For the past few days, I've been seeing the day the mad man killed my parents. I'm seeing Varin and Rosta again. I thought it was the stress, King Styrbjorn getting weirder and weirder, the return of Sigurd, The fact that Eivor went to challenge Kjotve, but…I'm afraid his memories are an omen."

"How long has it been since you had his memories?"

"When Sigurd decided to go traveling."

"I see," Valka replied as she walked over to the table. "You have always carried the murder of your parents and those of Eivor on your shoulders. Are you worried that this mad man is coming back?"

"Every night."

"Dreams can say express a lot of things. Your doubts, your fears, your guilt. You had to experience the loss of your parents and Eivor's parents. Maybe his dreams are telling you that it's time for you to fly away from here."

"Fly away?" you asked, laughing a little.

"Yes, I often dream of you, watching a white snowy owl flying in the distance. You seem to be far from Scandinavia. Where you are, there is no snow."

Far from Scandinavia, was that even possible? You had heard that Ragnar and his sons had gone to conquer England, but even if you hated Rygjafylke, were you ready to leave the place where you were born? You thanked Valka for giving you time and for her help. Your friend replied that her door was always open to you if you had any other questions. You saluted Svala, leaving the hut to return to the longhouse. Two days passed before Sigurd returned to tell you the good news, Kjotve the Cruel had just joined the Kingdom of Helheim. You had never been so relieved. Norway was finally rid of a nuisance. Sigurd offered you to come with them to the althing organized by King Harald to celebrate this victory, a proposal you refused. You were going to be able to sleep peacefully tonight. For once, you had a pleasant dream.

You were playing with Eivor and Sigurd building a cairn stone. You laid the pebbles on top of each other, being careful not to topple the tower. You heard Sigurd moan in frustration as he lay down on the floor.

"I've had enough! How can you like that?" Sigurd exclaimed.

"Mother loved doing her tricks," Eivor replied. "She said it gave her time to think."

"Do you want me to help you?" you asked, placing the last pebble on your tower. "I'm done."

"What?"

Sigurd sat up to see your cairn stones which held perfectly in balance. Your brother was sighing loudly as he motioned for you to join him. You went to sit on Sigurd's lap, helping him stack the pebbles on top of each other. Sigurd was surprised to see your patience and dexterity. The cairn he had started was finished in minutes. Eivor approached the pair, watching you build a third cairn stone.

"You're really good, sister," Eivor commented smiling at you.

You dream was brutally interrupted by a knock on your door. You hid your head under your pillow, but Sigurd ordered you out of bed, because he had something important to tell you. You let out an annoyed sigh, leaving your cozy bed to open the door. Unsurprisingly, Sigurd was accompanied by Eivor. The drengr followed his brother like his shadow. You returned to sit on your bed, allowing them to take their place. Given their expression, the King's Althing must not have gone as they would have hoped.

"So? Why are you waking me up so early?" you asked looking out the window. "The Sun hasn't even risen yet."

"Sorry, (Y/N). But we have something important to tell you," Eivor said as he settled down next to you.

"The Althing didn't go well?" you asked, glaring at Eivor.

"King Harald has decided to unite all of Norway, making the whole Kingdom his subjects. My father dared to kneel before him and swear allegiance to him, depriving me of my birthright! I cannot accept!" Sigurd exclaimed, heading for the window.

"What's going to happen? We're going to have to serve the king?" you asked worried.

"No, sister. Sigurd has a plan."

"Yes, we cannot stay in Norway, not under Harald's boot, not without fueling war. So we push forward. To newer lands. To England! And there make a new home. A kingdom of our own."

"England?" you asked perplexed. "That's where Ragnar Lothbrok's sons are. They've been there for eight winters, haven't they? Is there any land left?"

"Yes, by and large, sister. There are four kingdoms in England, last I heard only one is truly pacified. I know you don't like such a sudden change (Y/N). This all can be scary, and it is, but believe me, England is our best option."

"We won't be the only people leaving Norway, sister," Eivor continued. "Randvi, Dag and many others want to leave Fornberg. We will build a new home together."

Leave Fornberg? Leaving your native country for an unknown land? It made you sad, but you refused to be under King Harald's yoke. You didn't want to see Styrbjorn anymore. You remembered Valka's words. Of his dream. You nodded slightly, telling your brothers you were following them to England. Eivor and Sigurd were relieved to hear your response. The future Jarl told you to get ready as soon as possible and to take only the essentials, nothing superfluous. Sigurd was the first to leave the room. Eivor put his hand on your shoulder, telling you he was glad to know you were following them, before leaving the room, leaving you alone. You hurriedly got dressed and took the things you deemed necessary. You took a doll, it was an old toy your brothers gave you for your eighth birthday, and your warmest blankets for traveling. You found the group that was about to go to sea. You found Sigurd and Eivor, the two men were checking the food for the trip. Randvi came to meet you, telling you that she was delighted to know that you were going with them. His gaze rested on your doll: Skuldalið.

"Do you take it with you?" she asked, glaring at you severely.

"Why should I leave Skuldalið in Norway?"

"Don't you think it's time for you to get rid of her? You're a young lady now."

"For you Skuldalið is only a doll, Randvi. But for me, it is an object of great value. She comes with me."

"Leave (Y/N) alone Randvi," Sigurd growled as he moved closer to his wife. "We all have a very valuable item. If (Y/N) wants to take Skuldalið with her, she has every right to do so."

"Brother," Eivor said, nodding towards Styrbjorn who was arriving with two guards.

"Sigurd, what is this assembly? What are you planning?" asks his father, stopping near his son who turns to him.

"An exile, Father. As graceful as I can? For it I cannot be king in the land of my borth, I will start a new saga. In England."

"Nonsense. Your place is here, Son. At my side. There will be other victories soon, other glories."

"My choice is made, Father. Do not hope otherwise," Sigurd replied sternly, turning his back on his father to check the supplies.

"It is easy to lose one's way on the road to glory. Do not let false victories blind you to what is true."

"You talk of false victories to me, old man?" Sigurd asked sarcastically, turning to his father. "A sad old bear who destroyed his honor with one bent knee? The further I sail from this place, the louder I will sing."

Sigurd picked up a crate of supplies, telling you to get into the boat. You followed the others to board the ship, waiting for your brothers to finish their discussion with the former king. Your attention was drawn to Valka. Your friend was near the platform, a slight smile on her lips. You waved your arm, greeting your friend who waved back. You knew it was just goodbye and you would see her again soon. You were snapped out of your thoughts when you felt a hand land on your shoulder. You turned to Eivor and Sigurd.

"Ready to go, sister?" Eivor asked smiling at you.

"Yes," you replied, smiling at him.

"So here we go," Sigurd announced.

"The time for tears is over, you weeping sacks of wool!" Dag shouted to the crew. "Put some muscle into those sweaters!"

"Ration your strength, Dag. We have an ocean to cross," Bragi joked as he started rowing.

"All right, you lazy bacraut. Sigurd, what's our course?" Dag asked, glaring at Sigurd.

"The Sons of Ragnar established a settlement near the coast. We sail for that," the new Jarl explained. "Bragi! Sing a song to lift our hugr!"

"To rouse the Gods! Inspire a mighty fart from Thor to speed us on our way!"

You took your place next to Eivor, draping your fur over your shoulders. It was strange. You would have thought that leaving Norway would have been easy. Since the death of your parents and Eivor's parents, you had always wanted to leave forever this cold country which held bad memories. Yet, in this moment, you saw all your moments with Eivor, Sigurd, Valka and all the others.

"Are you okay, (Y/N)?" Eivor asked, putting his arm around your shoulders.

"Yes, it's just that… I never thought I would be so sad to leave Norway."

"Norway will always be where it was born. You have the right to be sad," Eivor reassured, hugging you.

"An ocean lies before us, Eivor, (Y/N). And on its far side, a new kingdam awaits."

"You know England well from your travels?" you asked, staring at a puzzled Sigurd.

"I spent a season in then Kingdom of Mercia. A temperate land. Lush and wild. By now, the Sons of Ragnar will have claimed its heart."

"Do we mean to join their army?" asked Eivor equally perplexed.

"They will join ours! In time, all of England will know of Raven Clan and the glory we brought to that fractured land. So to England, glory and destiny!"

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*crawls into the keyboard* Feelings be dammed, my girls need content

Sometimes Nyr wished she was as tall as her sister, that way she didn't have to see Ivarr's eyes whenever they argued. A bitter statement of who she was with most of the time.

The only positive remark about the man that Nyr could think about was his eyes. When they weren't demanding blood, they were soothing sea waves. The way the fire flames illuminated them felt like a starry night. A comfortable place to gaze upon and rest, looking like an inviting hug. But everyone knew better.

Whenever she found him drinking or making figures out of wood, he seemed much more approachable and trustworthy. It was when he opened his big mouth when it all went downhill. Nyr tried to steal a few glances towards him, aware of his hobby to call her names to gain her attention the moment their eyes met, so she looked from afar. Silence suited him best, but such an event happened once every blue moon. Still, Ivarr was a sight to behold.

She didn't hate the arguments with him. What threw Nyr off was how his arrogance and claiming that his ideas were the better choice due to his experience and the fact that he was going to be there. If he worked like the victory charm he claimed to be, surely, he’d have less scars. But Nyr decided to not hurt his pride on such occasions, trying to remember that both her and her sister were, still, only guests in Repton while they did their share of work.

She just looked at him when he defended his position and renown name. His eyes lightened with a similar passion that her sister had one time. The assurance, defending that they'd always be safe and sound, knowing they'll have a future ahead. Cirene's clear eyes were a dusty mirror of what they used to mean to Nyr. Perhaps that gentle persistence pushed her to stay at the Ragnarsson’s side.

She looked at him and tried to listen patiently when he went on about his battles, travels and events. He looked the prettiest like that, but she’d never say it out loud, knowing his ego is fed daily. She chose to nod every now and then, asking questions if she was interested. Listening to Ivarr talking about his successes was similar to listening to a goodnight tale for her, unsure about how much the events actually happened, but decided to go along with them either way. His smirk changed into an actual smile, something that the younger one appreciated. His walls slowly were put down when he talked about his victories, so perhaps having his ego stroked every once in a while, couldn’t do much harm.

In case they had to ran away again, she would miss his eyes, even if her last sight of them was one of anger.

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Sweet Aches and Torturous Need - Part 5

She let out a small squeal of surprise when all pretence of tenderness left him. For all her confidence mere moments ago his intensity shook her to her core, reducing her to the inexperienced young woman she truly was.

Ivarr ravaged her mouth with tongue and teeth, his cock pressing painfully into her soft belly as he forced her back towards the bed. Auralie let out a sharp gasp as she hit the furs and felt herself bodily lifted further up the bed. Her knees rose around him without thought, cradling his hips as he continued his assault on her throat and breasts. It was overwhelmingly wonderful. With a slight dip of his hips he entered her in one smooth thrust, eliciting a blissful moan from somewhere deep down inside as he filled her completely. Their eyes met as Ivarr graciously allowed her to catch her breath and he returned her smile, “We don’t have much longer,” she said as she pushed the hair from his beautiful blue eyes, delighting as she saw the roguish twinkle ignite and his smile turn wolffish. He inclined his head toward her wrist, grazing his teeth against her sensitive skin before he placed a soft lingering kiss on the mark he had made, withdrawing from her warm velvety grip then slamming back into her viciously. Auralie let out a short groan, her mouth hanging open as he did it again and again, building up speed until he was fucking her with the savage energy of a feral beast. Her hands clutched at his back and shoulders, desperately trying to hold on to something…anything as she tried to endure the onslaught of pleasure. The sound of wet slaps and stifled moans filled the air as he moved faster and faster, racing toward his finish.

Something began to build within her until it was at a panic inducing pitch, “Ivarr…?” she began, unable to finish her words as the intensity hit its peak and she let out an uncontrollably loud cry, fortunately her orgasm had been preempted by her more experienced lover and Ivarr had placed his hand over her mouth, muffling it slightly as he slowed his thrusting hips to a more manageable pace. “Ja…does that feel good?” He whispered intimately as she came, watching her face intently as her moans subsided. Ivarr removed his hand, replacing it with his mouth, kissing her deeply. Auralies whole body had turned to warm jelly, she could hardly open her eyes but she managed to return his kiss with equal passion. “What did you do to me?” She slurred, when he finally broke away from her hungry lips. “He answered with a smirk as he used his knees to further spread her wet thighs, “Do you want me to do it again?” Before Auralie could reply the latch on the door clanged. Whoever was wanting to gain entry began to bang on the door, desperately calling for it to be opened. The lovers shared a frustrated glance before they leapt from the bed. Ivarr could not see his clothes anywhere. Then he remembered; the window. He had been deep in his cups the night before and could not keep Auralie from his mind. He had stripped before he had climbed the wall, planning to take her by force if necessary and had left his things on the ground below. Silently cursing his drunken self he threw his lower half over the sill, hissing in pain as he grazed his rigid cock on the stone ledge. Auralie pulled him back in for one last farewell kiss. “Come back to me soon,” she whispered, before she closed the window behind him and opened the door for her worried servants.

[filthyivarrtrash]

Sweet Aches and Torturous Need - Part 4

“What?” Auralie hissed angrily as she stood and moved to his side of the room, blocking his exit. “You climbed up the side of a house naked and entered my room, uninvited.

Got into bed with me. I assume, to have your way and when I reciprocate you run? After all that you are just going to leave me…unsatisfied!” Ivarr stared at the girl open mouthed, she was not wrong. He had wanted to plough her viciously since the first time he had laid eyes on her and bitterly regretted refusing to agree to take her as his wife, leaving Ubba to accept her as part of the peace treaty. “I cannot be found here, you know that as well as I.” Auralie snorted a laugh, “ You cared for none of that last night! You wanted me and you meant to have me! The inner struggle between want and duty showed plainly on his scarred face but he could no longer blame his indiscretions on being intoxicated. If he stayed, the blame would lay solely on him and Gods he wanted to stay. That much was obvious, he was still here. “I want you too…” she said, her voice sultry and low as she pulled the ribbon at her throat that tied her loose, white shift . Ivarr averted his eyes as her gown dropped to the floor. Only returning them to hers as she guided his cheek with her soft hand. “No…” he whispered, gazing at her lips, “ We can’t.” He closed the distance between them as he spoke, unable to resist any longer. Ivarrs hands dropped the linen sheet that covered his last shred of modesty and pulled Auralie roughly by the waist so that her body was flush against his, crushing her breasts against his chest as his lips smashed into hers.

[filthyivarrtrash]

Sweet Aches and Torturous need - Part 3

Following the trail down to a nest of curls her eyes flicked up to his face, willing him to wake as her hand neared the end of its journey. A heated thrill rushed through her body and further warmed her loins as he stirred, groaning softly in his sleep.

“You are so very pretty, Ivarr,” she whispered with a giggle. Ivarr murmured something incomprehensible, answering her in his sleep. “You're not so scary, are you?” She smiled fondly as she watched him in his slumber, “Are you going to wake up?” Ivarr took a deeper breath and stirred again, his brow furrowed. “Wake up…” she whispered in his ear as she stroked his lower tummy gently with the pad of her thumb, her heavy, linen clothed breasts pressing against his bare arm. Ivarrs eyes snapped open and his hand gripped her wrist, stopping it from going any further. He blinked in confusion, staring wildly at the woman beside him. Leaping from the bed he took the sheet with him “What are you doing!” He exclaimed, far too loudly. Auralie sat up quickly and shushed him “What do you mean? This is my bed. What were you doing?” She answered, in a loud whisper. Ivarr frantically searched his foggy mind for an answer and did not like what he found “I should not be here. You are betrothed to Ubba,” he hissed desperately as he clutched a bed sheet over his crotch. Auralie's brow creased in annoyance “You came to me! She said incredulously. Ivarr began to back away from the bed, keeping one eye on his escape route. “ I was drunk…very drunk,” he looked at the window and swallowed hard, realising what she had said, “Did I take you?” Auralie sighed disappointedly and shook her head, “No. You must have fallen asleep.” Ivarr breathed a sigh of relief, “Good. Don’t say anything to anyone and neither will I.”