#— hands so bloody tastes like honey. ( ink drinker vibes )

[jadelynlace]

incoming: more Ink Ivar & kids, for your viewing pleasure

[jadelynlace]

I miss Ink Ivar... and I think he's missing me too. 😒

he always misses his good girls.

[jadelynlace]

Here's another weird idea for a ink drinker one shot 🙂 as always, you can ignore it of course, if you don't like it!

What about Ivar having extremely sensitive nipples (because this area of the male body is often neglected), he's a bit embarrassed about it, but hell does he feel things 😁

Anon, I thought about this all damn day.

I low key love the idea of Ivar being embarrassed about certain things his body does. One major HC I have in that regard is when this man comes, he comes a lot. Like, physically, there’s a bit much. And, he’s always embarrassed by it. Until you two start trying for kids, but I digress. He always packed the condom full, and you never really gave it any thought until he came on you, and you saw how much.

“We haven’t even gone that long without sex,” You say, seeing the ropes of white on your chest.

“It’s always that much,” Ivar rasps, nearly comatose next to you. “I’ll get a towel, hold on,”

“Wait—it’s always that much?”

“Don’t make me talk about it,” Ivar answers, now face down against the pillow because he’s trying to hide how he blushes.

“That’s so fucking hot,” You moan.

“No it’s—” and Ivar picks his head up quickly. “It is?” And you can catch the redding on his cheeks, the trail that sneaks back to grab his ears before the dopey smile comes to his lips.

“You’re marking me as yours,” You whisper to him, sealing the sentence with a kiss.

“My cock just twitched at that,” Ivar mumbles against your lips.

So now, anon, you’ve opened up an entire whirlwind of ideas for Sensitive Ivar™. And I love the contrast, because this man is covered in tattoos. And tattoos aren’t exactly that...painless. So to see him be sensitive as your lips trail him can almost be comical. How he moans when your lips latch to his neck, over his pulse point. You can feel his cock twitch as your lips sneak farther south and suddenly this tower of a man is squirming under you when your tongue drags across his chest. 

“What?” You whisper.

“Nothing,” Ivar tries to play it off, eyes still closed with swollen lips that are just slightly parted. You feel his hands climb your back before tangling into the ends of your hair.

“Nothing?” You ask back softly, taking the tip of your tongue along it’s original journey, only to have the same results: the squirm of him, a groan, another subtle twitch from his manhood under you before butterflies take to your stomach. 

“Nothing,” Ivar repeats.

“That’s a shame, it almost looked like you were really liking that,” You whisper.

“I...wasn’t,” He lies and Ivar finally opens his eyes when he feels you shifting. “You can’t tell anyone,” Ivar then says, one hand moving from your back to scrub down his face. “But I like when you do that...there,” He says into his palm. “I can’t believe I just said that,” He almost whines.

“Tell me more about what you like, Ivar,” You whisper, walking fingers up his chest. “Because I want to make you feel good,” You purr, lips sneaking back to his pulse point. “And I’m going to make you feel so good,” 

Needless to say, anon, I love Sensitive Ivar™ 

[jadelynlace]

how many children ink ivar is going to give us? it’s for science 🤓

It’s for science, yes. (I’ll put a slight warning on this for mentions of pregnancy, just because I know that subject isn’t for everyone.)

I toy around with this idea way more than I should, I’ll admit. My mind goes into a few different thoughts, so hear me out:

The first one, is nothing specific, since it’s a reader insert, and I want to keep it as inclusive as possible. One kid? Great. No kids? Great. Whatever floats your boat!

However!

To begin, one. The first one you and Ivar talk about, and you don’t obsessively plan for—maybe Ivar does a little bit. A lot. But he doesn’t say that. He tries to keep the “it’ll happen when it happens” mind set, even though he can’t fucking wait.

After the first kid, Ivar blossoms into a whole new man in fatherhood and he forgets about wanting more kids. Seems impossible, right? Nope. He loves his first born more than anything (not more than you) and he’s so happy and so complete with his little side kick that he doesn’t pressure you into another kid anytime soon. Not until this kid goes off to preschool, at the age of three, and Ivar is left with a gaping hole in his heart while the kid is gone for the few hours in the morning. Three times a week. He cries on his way home after drop off on the first day. And the second.

But, you really miss seeing your husband with a baby, and you know your first child would make such a great older sibling. So, you ask Ivar gently one night, if he’s ever thought about it. Of course he tries to say “Yeah, sometimes” as if he’s telling the truth (he’s not), but you both know you miss having a baby around. Once you two start talking about it again, it lights a fire inside of Ivar, shocking I know, and he gets excited thinking about taking out the baby things that are in storage. This would also be a good time to point out that Hvitserk and Thora welcome their first child, and seeing Ivar with a baby again lights a fire inside of you. I do think, perhaps, that you’re not as keen about being on birth control after the first baby, just because your body has been through enough, and after nursing, Ivar’s more than fine to wrap it before he taps it.

While he’s balls deep inside of you, lips on your neck, your nails in his back, and moaning with you, you ask him to take the condom off. You beg him. And oh, does that man comply. After triple checking because he’s about to bust at the thought, but he tears that off so quickly and bottoms out again before he shivers, telling you how he’s going to put another baby inside of you.

And he does.

After this baby, we all know Ivar doubles his love for fatherhood, and wants another baby. To go along with this baby.

“I think we should have another baby,” Ivar says softly as he wraps his arms around your waist, pressing himself against you while you’re cooking and you can’t help but melt in your husbands arms.

“Come again?” You say quickly when you register his plea.

“Yes, I would like to. Inside of you,” He whispers and you only take the wooden spoon to his thigh.

But!

I do however, love the thought that after the second kid, I’d say six months or so, your period is late. Unplanned and late. And you take a test, only to see the two lines and you all but stomp downstairs.

“You’re in so much trouble,”

“I didn’t do it!” Ivar tries, not even knowing what you’re referring to and you narrow your eyes.

“Yes you did,” You say lowly, holding up the test.

“Oh my fucking god—are you serious?” Ivar asks and his voice changes to the same tone when you told him you were pregnant with your first baby. “Are you serious?” And his excitement helps to calm you momentarily.

“Ivar, I don’t know if I’m ready to have another baby,” You say and you know that’s going to gut him but you know it’s your body, and it’s your choice. Ivar’s face drops suddenly but he nods. The mother fucker nods because he knows to.

“Okay,” He says and you swear it breaks your heart. “Okay,” And you know he’s going to need a minute to process this. “Just give me a minute,” He says before rubbing his eyes and you whimper.

“Can I have a hug first?” You peep and Ivar nods quickly, opening his arms before you’re against him.

“We can do it, baby, you know that,” He says into your hair. “But if you’re not ready, you’re not ready,” Ivar adds.

“You won’t hate me?” You ask.

“I could never hate you, Y/N,” Ivar says suddenly as he pulls back. “I could never hate you,” He repeats and you nod.

“Do you really think we can handle two, under two, and a kindergartener?” You ask and Ivar nods, and you know he’s right. “Oh my god what if we have twins,” You whine before thunking your forehead on his chest. His mouth opens for a laugh, as both of his hands stop against your abdomen. “Seriously what if it’s twins?” You ask.

“Then we’ll have four kids,” He sighs, already lost in thought. “Quick maths,” He smiles. “If you’re not ready baby, tell me. Don’t do this for me,” Ivar then says suddenly, a tone back in his voice that catches you. “Please,”

“I know,” You say back, hand on his cheek and his eyes fall to where your palm rests. “I’m not going to slap you,” You tease and Ivar deflates.

“Good,” He grins.

“We can do this,” You say softly and Ivar’s grin grows to take up more of his face.

“Yes, we can. This,” Ivar starts nudging his head around the room and towards the baby monitor before his hand falls on your stomach once more, “Is all I’ve ever wanted. And every day I wake up and I have it—and I think about twenty year old me, who was staring at an empty bottle of whiskey and two empty bottles of pain killers, begging for it all to end. Gods, if that Ivar knew that this was coming…”

“Please don’t make me cry,” You whisper even as your eyes tear up.

“This is the life I dreamt about for so long, and you keep giving it to me, day in and day out, and—” But his words die when you pull his mouth to yours suddenly.

“I know, Ivar,” You say against his lips. “I know. We can do this,”

“We can do this,” Ivar repeats back as he wraps you in another tight hug. “Can we start shopping tomorrow? Fuck, I can’t wait to call my Mom!”

Fuck me, I love this man and children.

[jadelynlace]

Babe what are some romantic everyday things ivar does for us?

Oh, buckle the fuck up.

Ivar is a sentimental man, he lives for the sappy romantic shit and once he finds someone who lets him do it, and doesn't make fun of him for it, and wants to receive it and does it back and--

You get my point.

We'll start with the seemingly small things, but my friends, these things add up.

He'll leave the coffee pot on if he's out of the house before you (and it does happen), so your coffee is warm when you wake up. Or, he'll make you a cup of tea, and put it in a thermos so it stays warm. Usually, he'll bring you coffee. If you're in the shower, if you're still in bed, if you're doing your makeup, he'll leave a mug of it (or whatever you're preferring), and kiss your head and give you your space.

He is a bit of a neat freak, so he's always putting your boots back by the door. Especially your work boots because sometimes you just fling the damn things off and relish in the fact that you're home. If he finds your pins on the floor (usually because the klutz will step on them), he'll set them in the bowl on your dresser.

Coffee to the station. He likes your uniform. Sometimes he'll bring food, just to watch Hvitserk whine. When you're pregnant and working in the back office as Lieutenant, he'll be extra sure to bring you food because "I want both of my babies to eat".

Good morning texts before you two are living together. And the ever loved, "Let me know when you make it home" texts. He's also sure to do the same, for you. When he was in the hospital, he would randomly text you on the rare occasions you weren't there, "I miss you" or "I'm thinking about you" or "My nurse is a real bitch" or "Look what I drew". You really love when he sends you a random photo of his drawing he's working on or even a random image of what he's doing. A selfie with a bored expression because Sigurd won't shut the fuck up. A short video of him shaking his head because the store is packed. Him chewing on a toothpick while he's walking home, him buying copious amounts of ice cream (yes, these are all pictures that his FC has done).

When you're in the shower, he'll stick your towel in the dryer to warm it up. And your clothes for once you're done.

He always, always, checks in to make sure you've eaten since you're known to get so busy that you forget (self insert there, oops). And, to make sure you've had water. And to not have that 5th cup of coffee or third energy drink (another self insert, double oops).

He'll get your flowers. But the poor guy had no clue how to arrange flowers, so here he is, calling his mom from his flat going "Ma, how do I arrange flowers in a vase to not look like a toddler just plucked them from a field?" and after Aslaug laughs, she explains. So, the goober drives over to your flat with his bouquet arranged in a vase (with the vase on his seat, buckled with the seatbelt and all), to give to you. He loves to see your face light up at that.

The little notes, and little drawings you find all over the house. Some in your pockets, some in your purse, sometimes they're in super random places. He'll stick them in your makeup pallets, so when you open them you see "Hey beautiful" or "I like the sparkly eyeshadow on you the best". Not to mention the one in the coat Hvitserk grabs for you when you're at the hospital that says "I want to hold your hand forever" while you think Ivar is dying on the operating table. There are comical ones like "I want to kiss your stupid face" or "I love your ass" (drawn in a heart). There are quick sketches of you two, or snarky words like "Murder is wrong" "Be good today, princess" (because he knows you hate being called that). "Cunt is not an acceptable name to call a patient (to their face)", "Poke Hvitserk in the side for me", "When you find this one, text me" and you happened to find that one in a really strange spot: tucked behind your driver's license in your wallet that you needed to take out because the new clerk at the liquor store ID'ed you.

Another favorite is when he sees something that makes him think of you. A coloring book for Phoenix about fire trucks, and you get the pictures back. Your favorite snack (and he always tries to buy a bag when he's out grocery shopping), things from the areas around tattoo conventions. He'll buy you pads, and tampons, he has no shame or fucks to give. He feels like a God.

Now, somewhat more romantic.

He will literally turn his phone off when he's out with you because the outside world doesn't matter when you're sitting across from him at a restaurant.

Weekends away, both before you two are out and afterward. Up to the cabin his family owns. To little Airbnbs he thinks you both might like. Spots where nothing else matters but time with you (and sex in front of the fireplace).

When you two are still secret, he’d send you take-away to your door, and he’d take his lunch when you received it, facetiming you so you two could have a mock lunch date (Ivar loves brunch & lunch dates). He also does this if he’s out of town, and if he’s in a different time zone, he does his best to accommodate that; even if he’s in Norway and there’s a large gap.

He tells you every day, and every moment he gets, that he loves you, that the world is a better place with you in it, and that you help him be a better person, and that he wants to be a better person because of you. And that you have a great ass. He is literally so in love with you that he doesn’t even bother to hide it anymore, calling you baby even if his brothers can hear. Calling you sweetheart. Holding your hand in public, if he’s driving, if you’re driving. His arm is around you if you two are out and seated at a restaurant, his head is in your lap if you’re watching a movie. Tangled together in bed. His head on your thigh while he plays math games on his phone (in bed), or holding you in his lap while he plays video games. Combing his fingers through your hair, or running his hands up and down your back to help you sleep, especially after a bad shift, or bad mental health day.

Ivar’s love languages are physical touch, acts of kindness, and quality time.

[jadelynlace]

Un can we talk about ivar’s size? I feel like his fick is one of those that just like… makes u go speechlesss when he’s in cuz ur like just trying not to be torn apart and breathe and are in shock by the size of it? Like eyes popping can’t believe how huge u r and how good it feels and how deep it is? Just grabbing his biceps while ur legs are around his torso staring up at him while he’s fucking u dumb

I think about this every god damn day.

It’s no secret he’s packing—the man is 6 foot 5, his shoulders could stop a train, his biceps could push a train, his thighs could snap that train in half. He’s intimidating to someone who doesn’t know him—not to mention the blanket of tattoos that covers him. So, his cock is certainly not slacking, I said what I said. He knows he’s big, he knows to check in with you while he’s inside of you (as any good partner should) because you’re so tight, and he’s always amazed he just fits. Even with how you grip him.

Imagine, for a moment, looking up at that man as he’s over you, palms flat on the bed as he thrusts into you. Reaching up to pull his hair from how it’s tied back and he only snickers until you squeeze your walls around him, a thick moan coming out seconds later. Soon, he pulls back, kneeling as he thrusts, bending your leg to his tattooed chest, before your ankles are over his shoulders, sending him even deeper. A low groan vibrates from inside of him as one hand wraps your leg, kissing your shin while the other one squeezes your tit. His jaw locks, his teeth clench as he tries to starve off his release because you feel so euphoric wrapped around him. So angelic under him as you mew, and moan his name, doe eyes looking up, a mouth that opens before your head tips back. And Ivar loves to watch you. Suddenly your leg is dropped, and Ivar’s back over you, his chest pressing yours as his hips push slowly, deep presses inside of you and your golden spot is reached. Ivar watches you watch him, looking down at his cock moving between your folds, glistening with your arousal before he feels your nails in his back, climbing his spine and moving to help his hips roll while his hands tangle into the sheets by you.

“Give it to me, baby,” Ivar rasps into your ear. “Come for me, goddess,”

[jadelynlace]

Sometimes Ivar just can’t hold back.

With you on top, he can’t hold back. Watching you work him, your body on full display as he worships it, your slick on his shaft, his abs, palmfuls of your chest. He can’t hold back and usually comes first, no matter how hard he tries to starve it off. And it usually sounds something like this:

“Baby, tell me you’re close, I’m gonna come,”

“Mmmm,”

“Baby—fuck, I’m sorry—I’m—I’m coming,”

And his head falls back against the pillow, thrusting up into you suddenly as you feel his thighs shake, watch his abs flex, feel his grip tighten, and watch his eyes roll back as his mouth drops open. Yes, the dork apologizes because he can’t make you come first.

So, the next time you’re on top, you grab the one thing Ivar has a personal vendetta against. Holding it to your clit as you ride him but he can feel the buzz through his own shaft and it feels too damn good. Stopping you, you stay still with the toy against you, between the two of you, and you two keep your eyes locked on one another. Watching each other’s pleasure before finally coming at the same time.

Ivar takes the toy out of your grip, pulling one hand from your chest, and the other from your hair as the toy lands in the sheets before he pulls your mouth to his. Tongue slipping in instantly as he moans because this was the most erotic, and intimate thing he’s ever tried with you (thus far) and maybe, just maybe, he’ll stop taking the batteries out of your damn vibrator.

Ink Drinker Tags:

@smileysam13579  @dreamtherapy @heisentwerk  @angelofthenightposts @unbetaedimagines @kathryn-jane @readsalot73 @queen-sarang   @anastasiaskarsgard @andmyannabellee  @peachyboneless @heavenly1927 @istorkyou @quantumlocked310 @xbellaxcarolinax @mighty-ragnarssons @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom @queen-of-upshur @nanahachikyuu @fandomlifeandeverythingelse @ivarhoegh @a5hl3y5ibley  @hashimily @youbloodymadgenius @love-all-things-writing  @theanxietyqueen17 @trip2themoon @tgrrose @synnersaint @kataphine @prepare4trouble @abbiii72 @not-another-viking-fanfic-blog @pixluru @93xdiagonxalley @ivarisms @nordicshieldmadien @ironynoticony @peakywitch @ivarsgard @ivarcansteponmeanytime

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

☞ full masterlist can be found here.

☞ read more Ink Drinker here.

[jadelynlace]

When You Don’t Want to Stop | Ink Drinker NSFW Deleted Scene | Modern Vikings AU [Ivar x F!Reader]

author’s note: just a little something that stems from a chat with @peakywitch

Sometimes, you just can’t hold back.

It’s an ethereal sight when Ivar comes. Hard features melting to be soft, morphing with pleasure as his eyes flutter, his lashes brush his face, his mouth dropping. The noises from deep in his chest, a low vibrate as his muscles contract, and how tightly he always grabs you, pulling you against him, laying over you. The bed rocking with a final thrust that pushes him over, creak in the mattress as he holds you and fills you with everything he has.

And sometimes, you can’t stop watching it. And as you feel his cock twitch, his jaw tick while his eyes close, hands barreling down against your hips, biceps flexing as each rope of his release hits your inner walls. Your name on his lips as a low moan, fading into heavy breathing as he tries to come back to planet earth. So you flick your hips again. Rising slowly and slamming back down as Ivar’s eyes fly open. They meet yours—already darkening as you look back at him, feeling his hips twitch as sensitivity takes to his cock.

“Baby—” Ivar whines, trying to wiggle in the sheets as you bounce. “Fuck Y/N—ah—” He moans, face turning into the pillow as he blushes. You watch the pillowcase come between his teeth, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as you reach for his hands, peeling them from your hips to latch them onto your chest as it bounces.

Heat creeps up your thighs while you work, hands on his chest and you look down to where you two are connected. Ivar’s abs covered with your sheen, his release leaking back between the two of you and suddenly his spine bends. Arching off the bed as his hands barrel down against your chest. One moves suddenly, finding your hair and his mouth opens before you feel the forced thrust from his hips, another release rolling through him as he comes.

“Fuck!” Ivar roars into the pillow case and you watch him shift. Churn while he moans as his nails dig into your skin. “Baby—baby please,” Ivar whimpers with eyes still closed. Your hips slow, leaning forwards as his arms flop, trailing your nose along his jaw and you can smell his aftershave, the scent that clings to his skin and your lips are there next. Sucking against the scruff of his sideburns, salt on your tongue before your lips come to his ear.

“I really like watching you come, Ivar,” You whisper before your fingers crawl into his hair. A noise of pleasure slips from Ivar, a whimper and you smile against his neck, rising your hips slowly.

“Baby—please,” Ivar whimpers.

“Do you want me to stop?” You ask and Ivar shakes his head ever so slightly. “Does it feel good, Ivar?”

“Mmmhm,” He say as he deflates.

“Then I want you to keep filling me up,” You purr.

Ink Drinker Tags:

@smileysam13579 @dreamtherapy @heisentwerk @angelofthenightposts @unbetaedimagines @kathryn-jane @readsalot73 @queen-sarang @anastasiaskarsgard @andmyannabellee @peachyboneless @heavenly1927 @istorkyou @quantumlocked310 @xbellaxcarolinax @mighty-ragnarssons @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom @queen-of-upshur @nanahachikyuu @fandomlifeandeverythingelse @ivarhoegh @a5hl3y5ibley @hashimily @youbloodymadgenius @love-all-things-writing @theanxietyqueen17 @trip2themoon @tgrrose @synnersaint @kataphine @prepare4trouble @abbiii72 @not-another-viking-fanfic-blog @pixluru @93xdiagonxalley @ivarisms @nordicshieldmadien @ironynoticony @peakywitch @ivarsgard @ivarcansteponmeanytime

*message me to be added or removed from the tag list! specifications for series, as well as feedback, are welcomed!*

read more Ink Drinker here.

full masterlist can be found here.

[jadelynlace]

When Ivar and reader were causally seeing each other but weren’t officially out yet, how would Ivar react when guys tried to flirt or ask reader out? Would Ivar get jealous? Did it lead to more sex? Or did Ivar just try and play it cool and act like it didn’t bother him? 👀

My mind goes in two different directions with this one:

To begin, when you two would go out with one another, it took a bit of planning, and a bit of distance from the normal spots you'd go with friends, or Ivar would go with his brothers. There was always that small voice in the back of Ivar's mind that you'd be "caught" and you'd freak out, and that would be the end of it. He knew you were worried about how Hvitserk would handle it, and in turn, Ivar got that way too, even when he knew his brother. And he knew him well enough that Hvitserk likely wouldn't freak out too much, but he wants to do what keeps you most comfortable. He's just happy to be a part of it.

However, because you two were heading to different areas to essentially date, you could act like a couple. You two might as well be CIA operatives with how you went about this because you're dorks. So, there wasn't much of an opportunity for you to "look single".

But, when you're out with the brothers, you have to pretend that you're single, and you hate Ivar. (You swear sometimes it's super hard because that morning he was a giant squishy teddy bear who wanted to hold you and whined when you only gave him one kiss before you left versus two. Not to mention: sometimes, you're worried you're going to cross a line with the bickering, and say something that really ticks Ivar off, and in turn, really hurts his feelings later on.) And with this pretending, comes the freedom for a few guys here and there to flirt. Now, if Ivar so graciously sees this, he has two options for viewing: he can watch you reject the man, which you usually do because you're "with" Ivar, and most men are trash, or sometimes, you do talk back. Keyword: talk. You're not flirting with them, and most men are like "oh dude she was flirting with you!" No, you answered their question when they asked how you were doing.

Ivar stays in his spot and fumes, drinks his beer a lot more quickly, and tries not to let his emotions get the best of him. He usually reverts to heading to the bathroom to take a leak so he doesn't have to watch it, or so he can look at pictures of the two of you on his phone as a reminder (Floki gave him this suggestion). Even if there's an occasion where Ubbe tries to set him up, he doesn't go for it, and sometimes, with how Ivar looks, women will come right up to him. He's not one to be rude when he shoots them down, he won't buy them a drink, he'll say something about not being interested, and if he's alone for a moment, he'll tell the woman he's taken. He really likes when he gets to do that.

Other times, he watches. And you feel his eyes on you as the man says something stupid and you laugh and tell him to get lost. Sometimes, Hvitserk points out that Ivar's been staring at you for a few minutes, Ivar goes:

"That guy she's talking to, I don't like the way she's standing,"

"What do you mean?" Hvitserk asks.

"You've never seen her stand like that on a call? She stands like that when she's mad," Ivar says.

"How the fuck do you know that?" Hvitserk asks.

"I've seen her do it with Ubbe when Ubbe made that sexist joke," Ivar then says. "Just be ready to grab her when she swings," Ivar shrugs.

"I can't believe you've noticed that," Hvitserk shakes his head.

"I notice a lot brother, not just with her either. She's not subtle," And that makes Hvitserk laugh.

Ivar will watch like a hawk, and if there's something, anything that starts between this man and you, Ivar will be there to finish it.

Now, my second train of thought stems from that actually happening. Four brothers around the high top table and you've gone to get another drink before you're approached by a man. And he just does not want to fuck off. No matter what you say. "I have a boyfriend" is met with "Well then where is he?" and then your subtle threat on his dick makes him mad, and then when you have to slap him, it makes him pissed. There's a snap that Ivar hears and he sees the man shove you and before he can even think, Ivar roars "Hey!" and it causes the remaining three brothers to pay attention.

"She said no, asshole," Ivar yells, and he looks pissed. "Don't you put another fucking hand on her," And you watch his eyes darken and you're pissed at this other man and slightly shocked at how quickly Ivar stepped in. You're shocked but you're safe.

"That your boyfriend?" The man asks and he tries to act strong but his dick is between his legs now when Ivar stalks closer.

"Ivar...?" Hvitserk says slowly because he's not sure what the fuck is going on and you disregard the man's question.

"Walk away," Ivar growls and his eyes watch the man turn around and leave.

"I can take care of myself, Ivar," You finally groan, rolling your eyes in pretend distaste but it's a half-assed attempt.

"Trying to keep you out of jail, princess," Ivar teases and swigs his beer and you only sigh. You're quick to excuse yourself to the ladies' room just to send Ivar a text message to thank him.

Now with that, when you show up at Ivar's door that night he's kinda shocked. Not even in the sense that you said you were tired and didn't feel like driving over to him, but because you look genuinely upset and he thinks it's about him.

"Look, I didn't like that he tried..." Ivar starts but you cut him off.

"I want to tell them," You peep. "Can we just tell them that we're together?"

"Y/N..." Ivar tries.

"You don't want to tell them, do you?" You then say and you feel your heart sink.

"No, no," Ivar starts. "It's not that, it's not that at all," And you're waiting for the next line to be the sucker punch.

"Then what is it?" You ask.

"You don't want to be in a relationship with me," Ivar says quietly.

"Ivar, I am in a relationship with you, you can't lie to me and tell me that's not what's going on!" You say and your voice is rising. "Tell me, to my face that's not what's going on," You then say and your voice flattens.

"Y/N..."

"Nevermind, Ivar," You finally say, grabbing your bag. "Just forget it,"

"Do not walk out that door," Ivar grumbles. "I know we're together, but what's going to happen when we tell everyone? We'll be official and I'll fuck it up. I can't not fuck it up, Y/N, I fuck everything up," Ivar says and you turn.

"What?" You say. "Ivar, we're official now. To Floki, to your mom, and to my mom. You call me your girlfriend all the fucking time when we're out together, we just don't do that around your brothers,"

"And who's idea was that?" Ivar asks.

"It was your fucking idea!" You yell. "You said we're not going to tell anyone!"

"That we slept together!" Ivar replies. "That one time, we weren't going to tell anyone that we hooked up,"

"I think we're past that stage now, Ivar," You groan, rubbing your fingers on your eyelids.

"I know," Ivar says quietly. “Can we just keep doing what we’re doing?” He asks softly and you can hear the vulnerability in his voice and you nod.

“Can I have a hug? I haven’t gotten to hug you all night,” You ask and Ivar is more than happy to comply before you’re gifted both a tight hug and a deep kiss with a lot of tongue.

More often that not, it leads to that very fight and it gets to a point where you don’t even bother to bring it up. And when you stop doing that Ivar finally finds the courage to make it officially, official. Because he knows you deserve that, you want that, and he wants it, too.

So while there were a few instances it lead to more sex, (not that the man really needs any excuse), there were more instances where it lead to Ivar getting one step closer to just saying it at the top of his lungs to everyone he knew.

[jadelynlace]

In Ink Drinker, what is the reader's relationship with Ragnar and Rollo(if he is included). I read the random convos in the masterlist and Ragnar added her to the group chat and he was the one that got the restraining order for her, so what is their equation? Also can there be some hilarious convos between them?

Oh, so her answer in that group chat was purely just to be a dick—Ragnar didn’t actually add her. (Sort of the same principle of “your mom” jokes. I know, I’m 12.)

Upfront, Rollo doesn’t exist in this series. Side note: Lagertha does, and when she and Ragnar marry, there are a few things she does to try to win over the other four Lothbrok boys. One being, having the wives/girlfriends in her bridal party. Ivar gets to see you in your dress, hair and makeup done to the nines and his first thought is how you look like a Goddess. His second is how he can’t wait to make that mascara run down your face. And his third? The lipstick all over his cock. Those are the thoughts that make standing up there, on Ragnar’s side, bearable. The only unbearable part is trying not to get hard as they say their vows, while Ivar mentally goes through the images of your legs over his shoulders, the heels still on. You pulling his tux off, tugging his hair. When they seal their marriage with a kiss, Ivar can almost taste your tongue in his mouth and you two keep stealing glances at one another.

Now!

Ragnar in this series is….not great. Ivar does not care to be around him once he’s older. Where as, growing up, all he wanted to do was impress this man; hearing stories about him. Floki tried to paint him in a good light, they’re friends after all. But Ragnar didn’t approve of Ivar’s art, or the love of mathematics, and it gutted Ivar. He was horrible to Aslaug, and not only that; he never talked to Ivar in regards to his suicide attempt. Not once in the hospital, as he believes mental health problems aren’t something that “plagues his boys”. Another reason Sigurd isn’t exactly out of the closet yet, despite everyone (minus Ragnar) knowing. Hvitserk keeps talk about his anxiety disorder at a bare minimum because of Ragnar. He and Ivar talk about these things with one another, with you or with Floki. It opens up too much of a war with Ragnar, and to put their boundaries in place, they leave that topic out. Ivar’s tattoos are another great topic he likes to pick at, and Ivar always remarks with the same things (read these in the monotone voice that’s on the TikTok sound “Where’s the cheese? It’s under the sauce.” That “under the sauce” dead tone? Yes.):

“It’s my body.”

“You have no say in what goes on my body.”

“It’s artwork.”

“If you don’t like it don’t bring it up.”

“It’s my body.”

“I’m not answering that.”

He is the one who gets you your restraining order, yes, but as much as that is for you, Ivar secretly thinks it’s for him so he doesn’t pummel the man to death. Especially after he finds out just how abusive this man was to you. Your relationship with Ragnar is mostly based off of what you’ve heard from Hvitserk in the front cabin of the ambulance, what you’ve heard from Ivar and what you’ve heard from Floki. You’re not one to assume, and once you meet the man for a brief few hours for the restraining order, you understand. You can hold your own against anyone, and he is no different.

Ivar keeps his distance. Ivar has Floki, and he’d much rather have Floki. But, with how sarcastic this man is, interactions with Ragnar can certainly get him going. They get you going. Some of them offer the relief you both need when you’re stuck in close proximity to him.

“Ivar, son, sometimes it just seems I never get your full attention,” Ragnar states, setting the lowball glass back against the mahogany table.

“Full attention?” Ivar scoffs and you’re about to lay your hand on his knee in a minor attempt to calm him. “I have ADHD, and the first two letters stand for Attention Deficit,” He adds, leaning closer to the table. “If you feel as though you don’t get my full attention, it’s because there isn’t enough fucking attention to go around.”

Eventually I’ll have a post of sarcastic quips and funny conversations that include him. Eventually.

Thank you for your question!

More Ink Drinker here.

[jadelynlace]

When You and Ivar Buy Your First House:

Ivar wakes up one morning around 3am with the bright idea to start remodeling. Nudging you awake like he’s a kid on Christmas morning.

“Babe—how cool would it be if we tore up the carpet in here to put down wood floors? And painted the hallway black, like the walls at Ink Drinker?”

It’s 3 in the morning. You’re half asleep, only answering: “Yeah, sure Ivar,”

You didn’t think he was serious in all honesty, and then you come home. The hallway was repainted, his artwork back up, and he’s shirtless, sweaty, working on the trim and you’re eyeing those biceps as his arms reach. And his fingers around the paintbrush.

Every time you come home from work, since he was alone all night (and unsupervised, like a toddler) there’s a new project done. Carpets torn up? Check. Cabinets repainted? Check. Back splash behind the kitchen sink? Check. New faucet? How the fuck did Ivar figure that out? YouTube. (And Floki.). Check.

The man looks so good doing it. Grunting, cursing, sweating and sometimes singing alone to what music is playing. On his back under the kitchen cabinets, half way up a ladder, measuring again and again and again. Hammer in his hand. Paint brush. Wrench. Spackle. Complaining about how “sticky this white shit is”. Walking in and out of the house to the work bench with saw, using the power tools—you’re waiting at the station for the 911 call from Floki even though you trust them. But you still anticipate it. There’s an extra tourniquet in the ambulance from Hvitserk.

But, Ivar gets distracted. Well, you distract him, bedroom eyes as he works, and more than once he ends up taking you right where he is. Up against the counters was fun, riding him over the new floor. Dragging him to the bedroom with paint still on his hands as he fists the bed sheets and fills you up.

“Baby—we can’t keep fucking, I need to get the floor done,”

“You just looks so good Ivar. Masculine and domestic and I’m getting wet again just thinking about it….”

This is why he works best when you’re at work.

However, you also eventually ban him from the hardware store, after you drive the ambulance by the parking lot and see his Jeep and Floki’s truck there. Three times. In the same day.

So you park the rig and wait with Hvitserk, only to watch Ivar glare at you when he comes back out.

“They’re for Floki’s house….”

“Give me your credit card, Ivar,”

“I swear!”

“Ivar—did you get the tiles you wanted for the bathroom?” Floki will call as he walks from the store.

“You too Floki, give me your credit card,”

[jadelynlace]

I’m thinking about Ink Ivar, in the beginning of knowing you, shocked and slightly peeved that you’d ask him how he was doing.

It sort of gave him an actual reason not to like you. He never viewed himself as someone that important, anyways; and he was only genuinely used to a few people asking him how he was doing. How he was really doing. Floki…hardly ever had to ask, he just knew. Aslaug could always tell by the change in his voice. Hvitserk shared the womb with him for nine months, they’re on a separate wave length all together. And Aiden, Aiden makes you forget why you’re upset.

Even when you first got together; and you made time for him. You’d sneak into the parlor when Sigurd took his lunch break, because Ivar mentioned once that Sigurd takes his break between 2 and 3 in the afternoon. Not that Ivar really thought you were listening anyways—he’s used to that, too. Being drowned out, forgotten. You’d bring him lunch, a few extra cans of Red Bulls, ask him how he was doing or just offer your presence for a few moments if he was with a client. On your way home from the station in the early morning hours, you’d stop by his flat and clear the snow off of his mustang if it was needed. You’d draw a little heart in the snow left on the hood. Or write a swear word.

It made it him mad, in the beginning, it was uncomfortable for him to find this vulnerability with you. To trust you in such an extent. When you hand your trust out, and too many people break it, you stop handing it out all together. Yes, Ivar had feelings for you, but in his self-sabotaging nature, he thought he needed to ruin it. If he pushed you away first, it would hurt less. He could control the heartbreak because he felt so out of control within the relationship with Freydis. He spent countless hours talking to Floki about it—nearly crying to the man because he didn’t know why you took so much time, and effort to care for him.

“Have you ever thought Ivar, that maybe she does these things for you, because she cares?” Floki asks and Ivar only shakes his head. “Why?”

“Because I’m not that important,” Ivar says back.

“Tell me more,” Floki then replies and oof, that’s the sentence Ivar hates because now he has to make a mess of the thoughts in his head and pull them into words that make sense.

“Why would she like me like that?” Ivar mumbles and Floki watches him lean back into the couch, shove his hands into his sweatshirt’s pockets, and try to make himself smaller than he his.

“Would you do those things for her?” Floki asks and Ivar shrugs. “You know the answer, Ivar,”

“I don’t do those things for her,” Ivar mutters.

“And why not? Do you think she’s not worth it?” But Ivar shakes his head quickly.

“I don’t want to scare her away,”

“Ivar, you’d be surprised how far a little act of kindness can go,”

It’s a night after a long shift and you call Ivar, but you’re sent to voicemail. In the moment you think nothing of it, but that afternoon, the same thing occurs. You can see he’s been active on social media, you know he’s near his phone and you wonder if he’s changed his mind. You two never put a label on it, and for all you knew he could be screwing around with other people, but for some reason the thought alone makes your heart hang heavily in your chest. It snows that night and Ivar wakes up to a car that’s not cleaned off, there’s no heart in the snow, no swear word to make him smile and it stings him in a way he didn’t think it would. And it makes him think that he was right—he’s not that important, but then Ivar wants to kick himself because he can’t associate that thought with someone like you. You’ve made him feel important.

You answer the door still dressed in your sleep clothes, a very large man on the other side, speckled with snow flakes in his hair and there’s a rose tone to the end of his nose and the apples of his cheeks.

“You didn’t clean my car off,” Ivar says suddenly and you watch him close his eyes as if even he can’t believe he just said that.

“You were ignoring my calls, I figured we were done with the hookups. Look, Ivar, you can sleep with whomever you want, but don’t put me on a shelf only to be played with when you’re bored,”

“That’s not—I’m not sleeping—why are you so nice to me?” Ivar blurts out and your eyes snap up to his.

“Excuse me?”

“Why are you so nice to me? Why do you always—”

“Because I care about you, Ivar, and I try to be a decent person to the people I care about. Whether I’m sleeping with them or not. I clean your car off because you drive like a mad man, and I know you’ll drive faster just to get the snow off. I bring you lunch because knowing you, you’ll work through it and not eat, only to eat a bag of chips for dinner and make yourself sick. I ask how you’re doing because I genuinely care about your fucking answer, I don’t just want to hear myself talk. And if it bothers you, I’m sorry,”

“You care about me?” Ivar peeps.

“Yes, I do, Ivar. Why is that so hard to understand?”

“Because no one cares about me,” Ivar mutters and you want to take your heart out of your chest and press it against his.

“I care about you, Ivar. Do you want to come in and have breakfast?”

“No, I promised Ubbe I’d watch his boys for a few hours,” Ivar mutters. “I’ll call you afterwards?” And you nod, standing on your tip toes as you lace your arms behind his neck.

“I care about you, Ivar,” You whisper when you’re against him.

And that’s how Ivar slowly starts to learn that he’s worth it. Your trouble, your love, your time and effort, and every little nuisance that you’d give to him. Because you know he’ll give it back.

[jadelynlace]

🔥 Hvitserk's kitchen table

I’m not going to lie anon, I laughed so hard that coffee came out my nose.

Ink Ivar has a very few hard no’s when it comes to sex. Public sex is a huge one. And that stems from the very beginning of your relationship: he was worried about being caught. Worried it would cost you a job, a friendship, and in turn, cost him the ability to associate himself with you.

Fast forward a few years, and Ivar still hates public sex. The noises you make, the sights of your body? Those are his. And his alone. But if you two are home—no area, countertop, piece of furniture, wooden floor board is safe from getting fucked on. Including, house sitting for Hvitserk for the night because he needed to buy that puppy for himself, even though he works 24 hour shifts.

Ivar can’t say he expected to bend you over his fraternal twin brother’s kitchen table, with the weird floral runner (no doubt that Thora picked out) and mismatched chairs (that Hvitserk claims “adds character!”). Yet, there you two are, your nails clawing at the awful pattern as your arousal drips between the two of you. The old creak in the wood meeting Ivar’s moans as he empties himself into you. Panting as his pants finally hit the floor and you still moan at the aftershocks of your orgasm.

He just prays that dog never learns to speak.

Read more about Ink Ivar here.

Ask more here.

[jadelynlace]

Hey boo!

You know I'm completely obsessed with Ink Drinker Ivar and the AU you've created. If I could pick one universe to live in, I'd pick this one in a heartbeat.

There's one thing I've been wondering: how's Ivar and after care? We've got a feel glimpses of it before, but maybe you could give us a little more detail?

Hello my love!

Thank you for your kind words—I too, would live in the Ink Drinker AU if I could. (I mean I’m already in EMS, I’m just missing that giant, tattooed, squishy nerd.)

Alright, so Ivar and aftercare! Ivar loves after care—when those caretaker vibes are flowing, he swears he’s a God. His last relationship, with she that shall not be named, hindered him in all of the wrong places and one of them, was aftercare. She wasn’t a cuddler, and so after she came, Ivar never got to hold her, and that was detrimental to him. She would put space between them and Ivar was left to sulk on his own, by himself.

Ivar lives for the first few seconds after his release, where everything is still quiet (minus the breathing), and he’s floating in that post-orgasmic headspace. He loves when your nails climb his back, or you give him head scratches as you both come down. If you two switched up positions, and Ivar lays over your back, you make sure, to the best of your ability, that you can wiggle your hands free to find his. Even if you feel weighed down by a lead balloon.

Since Ivar’s one to come in you, the kinky bastard’s been known to go back down on you afterwards, cleaning you up in a sense. But he’s always quick to get a cloth, since we know how much this man comes. After he regains consciousness of course, and he always says something like: “I’ll get you a towel just give me a second, I can’t feel my legs.” He sort of stops saying that after his accident, and changed it to: “I’ll get you a towel just give me a second to come back to planet earth.” Any mention of his legs still pulls on his heart strings, but he’s getting better slowly.

Another favorite of his is shower time; holding you under the hot water and giving him additional time to check you over. Rubbing the bite marks he offers you, or if he spanks you. And he loves when you wash him, taking the suds over the red lines you’ve etched into his back, tracing his tattoos, admiring his body.

It’s no surprise he’s into cuddles after sex; whether it be after the shower, or with no shower, he’ll help you clean up and he’s the first to grab a sweatshirt of his for you to wear. He’s got quiet the collection, and they all smell like him. You both take turns picking what to watch, one night it’s your turn, and the next it’s Ivar’s. But sometimes you snuggle up next to him and fall asleep, and since he keeps a sketchbook by his bed, he’s perfectly content to use his right hand to comb through your hair, and his left hand to draw.

Now—in the case of you being in change (or the ever so loved time you pegged him), Ivar gets a little tricky for aftercare. He’s so, so used to being the one to do it, and he loves it so much, that he can forget he’s supposed to be letting you do it. He’s touch oriented by nature, and no matter what, he’s going to fight for five more minutes to hold you, even before you try to move. Whether it’s to get up to get you both water, or to pee (he always makes you go to the bathroom after sex because he’s Good Dude Ivar), or anything you think he’ll need, he always, always wants to hold you first.

He also really likes to snack post sex; which probably should be no surprise. Some of his favorite after care moments come when you’re both cleaned and dressed, snuggled up and he puts in an order for takeaway. Or raids the pantry and brings back chips and cookies and you two end up snacking in a blanket fort on the living room floor. But, if you two are having sex right before lights out, he loves the moments where you fall asleep tangled up with him. Where he can just watch you, stroke your skin, push the hair from your face, and thank every God imaginable that you’re his.

[jadelynlace]

Can I please have a Ragnar and Ivar sarcasm match, extra spicy?!!

I would love to see Ivar just being his natural self.

"Extra spicy" is also how I describe my personality. I added Hvitserk too because sometimes he can surprise us all. Googling sarcastic quotes added so much to my arsenal to use at work, thank you anon!

“Are you thinking about children? You haven’t told me yet.” Ragnar says.

“Oh, I didn’t tell you, Ragnar? Then it must not be any of your business,” Ivar says back, eyebrows raised in a challenge, and you know right now, that being at the very center of Ivar's attention is a terrible place for Ragnar to be.

“Do I need to repeat myself, regarding the tone you’re using with me, son?” Ragnar asks.

“No need, I ignored you just fine the first time,” Ivar smiles. "When you ask me stupid questions, it is my legal responsibility to give you a stupid answer," Ivar adds.

"I'm sorry I hurt your precious feelings, Ivar," Ragnar snips, rolling his eyes before he tosses back the final remains of his whiskey. "I just don't like how you're keeping secrets from me,"

"I'm not keeping secrets from you. I'm keeping you out of my business,"

"If there's nothing you have to say that will add context to the conversation, Ivar, you should just stop talking," Ragnar replies.

"Maybe he'll try being nicer, if you try being smarter," Hvitserk quips and you swear you feel the burn of the wine in your nose as Ragnar rolls his eyes again.

"Y/N, you've been rather quiet," Ragnar tries.

"My tolerance for idiots is very low today. I've built up immunity, years on the job, but apparently," You say, looking directly to Ragnar. "There's a new strain,"

"I should have guessed you'd be as sarcastic as these two," Ragnar says.

"I'm not always sarcastic, Ragnar," You smile.

"Sometimes she's asleep," Ivar quips.

☞ more Ink Drinker here.

[jadelynlace]

Alright, new Ink Drinker canon:

The Lothbrok’s first language is Norwegian. (Not so I can make a movie reference later on, not that at all.) And you finally walk in on Hvitserk and Ivar conversing in their mother tongue. Wide eyed, small smile and they both stop, as if you’ve caught them sneaking treats from a cookie jar.

“Can you talk dirty in Norwegian?” You ask and Hvitserk nearly looses his coffee through his mouth. And Ivar answers your question in Norwegian, so you only turn from the room.

“Wait—babe where are you going?” Ivar calls in English, thinking perhaps he did something wrong.

“I have to go change my panties—I’ll be right back!”