#ivar the boneless fandom

[nukyster-blog]

Avalanche

Song for inspiration 

.-.-.

The mountain was hidden underneath a deadly snow-white brilliance, not even the animals were brave enough to leave their shelters. The ice kissed air came with a great snowfall that soon gave-way to a blizzard, as if the sky bursted open.

The stillness in the white landscape was beautiful, peaceful. Unblemished by the human touch; because who would be so foolish to go up the mountain and taunt the Gods?

Well, Ivar was, although he’d rather call himself stubborn as a mule, instead of a fool. 

His presence was a thorn in the eye for Skadi: Goddess of Snow, Winter and Mountains. 

Ivar was aware of his audacious move; for the wind chilled him to the bone and more than once made him tumble down a good few feet. 

By now his leather gloves were clumps of ice, the fabric spun around his fingers soaked and freezing. 

Yet, in this cold was still a humble flame, rage, the furnace and the fuel Ivar lived by. It was what had kept him going; all throughout his life he had one mantra he clung to: the cripple would show them, show them all. 

And he would, Ivar the boneless; the baby who shouldn’t have survived his first night.

  Ivar the boneless; the boy who shouldn’t have taken one step. Ivar the boneless; the young man who endured, survived and overcame his handicap. 

Oh, and he would show them all alright.

Through gritted teeth came a low aggravated hiss when his sledge got stuck behind a branche again. Crawling back he yanked the sledge loose, taking a moment to catch his breath.

Twenty-four-thousand, he’d counted to twenty-four-thousand. One hand in front of the other, from one till twenty-four-thousand. That should be high enough. 

Redirecting his route, Ivar scanned the white scenery, from the line of white trees up to the mountain, to the other line of white trees, about six hundred feet across. “One, two, three…” He counted out loud to keep his blue lips moving, “...two-hundred-eighty nine, three hundred…” 

Craning his head back Ivar narrowed his eyes to crinkled slits; fog had settled atop of the mountain as a sinister curtain. 

His heart was like a drum; as realization sank in; the snow could be his deathbed. 

With his canines he tore the leather gloves off and untangled the fabrics. He needed both hands.

Crawling atop of the sledge Ivar grabbed the edge with numbed fingers and closed his eyes.

He screamed in rage. And there was something more in that scream; a pain behind all the anger. All of this, the constant rage; dislike of authority, his short temper; it was nothing but a shield for the pain. The constand seclusion, the overall loneliness. And never being treated as an equal. He was always kneeling beneath them. Ivar the boneless; would never be a man. 

The scream came forced from his mouth and lungs, but it bled from his ego, from deeply within. His pain echoed between the lines of trees, trailing upwards, crossing the fog until heading towards his goal.

With a crack mightier than thunder, the snow-pack up high split into two. The part cut-loose began to move, accelerating with every scream. 

In seconds Ivar’s sledge was picked up by a rolling frigid white sea of snow. For moments he was nothing more than a leaf in the wind. And yet he still screamed; because by the Gods, let those bastards hear him roar. Let them know that their downfall was by the hands of the cripple.

The army below the mountain heared the cracking of violence coming their way, an avalanche wiping through the forest. As a colossus hand it grabbed everything and everyone in its way. Although some manage to get on their horse or get onto their feet, it was too late. The frigid white took them all down, one by one. Tent by tent. Man by man. 

Throughout all the screams of terror there was a laugh; manic and thrilled beyond joy. One that did not fear death, because revenge overcame him. 

Ivar victored, thanking the Goddess Skadi and welcoming her ice-cold embrace. Packing in layers and layers of snow the pain stopped. Unable to move, to breath, to see, Ivar found peace; Valhalla awaited him. 

.-.-.

Snow flew in shimmering arcs by the shovels, the hole grew larger at their feet. Ubbe, Hvitzerk and Sigurd stood motionless at the silhouette of their youngest brother slowly being resurrected from the frigid snow. It had been his sledge guiding them to his icy grave, the wooden sledge had been tied to his wrist by a long rope; as a lifeline. 

Glacier eyes rolled skywards, struggling to focus until they saw the brothers stand and stare. Raised from the dead Ivar arched a sly brow and through blueish chapped lips he whispered: “Told you I could do it, didn’t I?”

.-.-.

A/N: This whole ‘Ivar killing people with his voice’ has been in my mind for a while now. I figured #norsetalesforwinter would be a perfect reason to finally write it down. I hope you enjoyed reading this prompt as much as I did writing it, happy holidays!

Xoxoxo Nukyster 

[woahhhgwendolyn]

Being Married To Ivar Would Include...

-Ivar being really protective over you in every single way possible. He would fight anyone who tries to mess with you or try and take you away from him.

-Him wanting to make sure that you are safe no matter what and always has someone go with you in the village does not matter if it is him or some other warrior going with you.

-During feasts he always has you sit with him. He does not want you to feel alone or have to sit with another man. So, he just wants you to sit with him.

-When you both are in bed, he loves to cuddle with you and be with you all throughout the night. Sometimes, he lets you cuddle him from behind but his most favorite is when he is laying down on his back and then you just lay your head on his chest.

-You both always having fun no matter what is going on. Everyone always notices that you both are always smiling around each other and making each other laugh at any time possible.

-Him always being super gentle with you. He is always gentle touching you. He always makes sure that when he hugs you or even when you both cuddle that he is being gentle and soft with you.

-His brothers have had a small crush on you at some point but have let it go because they had realized that you were staying with Ivar for a long time.

-His brothers liking you and thinking that you are a good fit for him and could handle all of his crazy tendencies.

-Ragnar and Aslaug liking you as well and treating you as if you are their own family and talking to you as such as well.

[mrsalwayswrite]

To Call Forth Love - Chapter 18

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

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

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

Words: 3900

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

Series Masterlist

The day of reckoning had come. 

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

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

It was a day for justice.

A day for vengeance. 

And Ivar relished every moment. 

*****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fucking pathetic. 

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

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

"Wake him up." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Another smack reverberated in the air. 

“Try again.” Lagertha spat out. 

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

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

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

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

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

But Kalf's death would be decided by Lagertha. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What happened?” 

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

“Okay.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Toss me your lighter.”

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

*********

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

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

“You live!” 

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

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

“India.”

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

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

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

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

Hvitserk chuckled but did not dispute the claim. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Huh?”

“Is this–ah, is this Ivar Lothbrok?”

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

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

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

Someone was calling him about Kari. 

As an emergency contact. 

From a hospital. 

Where she is a patient. 

A PATIENT!

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

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

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

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

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

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

He had promised. 

And he failed. 

Again. 

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

“Yes.” He croaked out. 

“Excellent, what you can do is park–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tag List:

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

[mommytauriel]

+ · 。~ OC chart for Thyra

This is my oc chart for my oc Thyra! She will be the main character for my upcoming Vikings story! I’m still wondering if I should post the story on here as well, please let me know what you guys think! I hope you guys like her!

This was my first time doing something like this! I’m definitely going to be doing this for other oc’s of mine 🤗

Feel free to send in some asks or questions that you have for this story! I would love to answer them 🫶🏻

[sigridsdottir]

vikings + fave bts pics (2/?)

[tfemsnake]

is there still an (at least somewhat?) active vikings fandom...???

[spaghettificationandpretzels]

Please could I request Ivar with-

Person B washes person A's hair. 💕

Request Info

Gentle Hands

Contains:Fluff

306 words

Comment if you want to be tagged/removed

Ivar washes your hair

The bath in Rollo's palace was insane. It would have fit ten people but right now, it was just you and Ivar. He had pulled you from your shared bedroom with a huge smile on his face, insisting that he show you something on another level of the building.

When you got to the room, he opened the door and the smell of herbs and steam hit you in the face full force, "it's been a long journey, wife, do you care for a bath?"

Now you were sitting behind him with his hands in your hair as he rubbed your scalp, "did you bring me here just to wash my hair?"

Ivar chuckled, "yes and no, we did need a wash but selfishly, I do love it when you allow me to do this."

You leaned back into his hands as he used a cup to rinse the sudsy wash away, then he combed through a mix of oils and fats with his hands, making sure that every strand was coated before spinning you around to talk to you while it sat for a while. "Do you think this will all go well?"

Ivar nodded, "of course, Rollo knows what we want, peace is the only way forward."

You smiled, "I think we should make a sacrifice when we return home, to thank the Gods for allowing our people to have a way to live the way your father wished."

Ivar smiled, "yes, good idea. Now let me finish your hair."

You turned back around and Ivar's fingers found your hair, washing out the thick cream the gentle affection. "I am excited to sleep in a bed after all that time at sea." Ivar smiled, resting his head back against the edge of the tub once your hair was done.

"That makes two of us."

Fin

[its-all-or-nothing94]

Ravenblade - Part 2 // Ivar Lothbrok x OC

Summary: As Björn would like to keep an eye on his mysterious sister, she has her sights set on someone completely different, to the surprise of her brother and his.

Warnings: Language, Description of violence, light smut (implied but not fully described)

Pairing: Ivar x OC

A/N: Here is the second chapter :) Still, let me know if you wanna be on the tag list ;)

Masterlist

That evening the great sacrifice takes place, which is supposed to bring victory to the Vikings over the Saxons. Some Earl has decided to sacrifice himself for the cause, and Liv now stands beside her big brother and his brothers before the ceremony.

"You still owe me an answer," Bjorn whispers to her as they wait for Lagertha.

"I don't owe you anything," she says, continuing to look straight ahead.

"I still want to know why you're doing this and whose side you're on."

Now Liv looks at her big brother. "I am on Ragnar's side. I am doing this to avenge his death. Nothing more, nothing less."

"But why?"

"Have you seen him in the last ten years? No? Well, I have. And I have my reasons. But let my reasons be mine."

Then, as Lagertha begins to speak in the old language up front, Liv notices Björn slinking away. She doesn't care, but now she is standing next to Ivar. She looks at him briefly, and her eyes meet his. She grins briefly before turning her attention back to the front.

Lagertha is now sacrificing the Earl. Liv watches closely. It somehow fascinates her how her mother pushes the sword further and further into the man's chest.

Liv looks enthusiastically at Sven, who looks at her with a slight smirk. She feels Ivar's eyes on her. Liv likes it when a man is interested in her. It makes it all the easier to manipulate him. But with Ivar, it is something else. Somehow she feels drawn to him.

Once again, her gaze wanders to him, who is also looking at her with his deep blue eyes. A smile creeps onto her face.

When the ritual ends, Liv sees Ivar in front of the large bowl of blood. She walks up to him and stands next to him.

"May I?" she then asks, pointing to the blood. Ivar looks at her in surprise and then nods hesitantly.

Painting blood on someone is a sign of affection. Liv taps two fingers each into the blood and then looks Ivar in the eye before wiping her fingers across his face. Ivar closes his eyes briefly and then looks at her again. They maintain eye contact for a moment before Ivar dips his fingers in the blood and then does the same to Liv.

From a distance, they are watched by Björn and Ubbe. "I don't like this," murmurs Ubbe. He is not comfortable with the young warrior and does not trust her.

Björn shakes his head with his arms crossed. "She's manipulating him. That's what she's good at."

"Normally, I wouldn't have thought of Ivar as someone women so easily manipulate, but with her... I'm not so sure," the younger of the two concludes.

When everyone has retired to sleep before leaving, Liv sneaks out of the hut she and the Ravenblade have been assigned. She walks through the deserted town and creeps towards one particular hut.

Carefully she listens at the door and hears nothing. Then she opens it quietly and squeezes through a small crack. In front of her on a chair lies Hvitserk, snoring heartily. The position can't be comfortable, Liv thinks to herself and tiptoes past him. Then she stands in front of two doors. She briefly points her finger at both and then decides on the first one.

Silently she opens it, and to her luck, it is the room she was looking for. But to her surprise, he is sitting, still awake, with his back to her, and seems bent over something. Still silent, Liv closes the door again and takes a few steps toward her.

"You're quiet, but I know you're here," Ivar says suddenly, then turns to her.

She looks at him with raised eyebrows, a smug smile on her face. "But only because I wanted you to," she says, winking at him.

"What are you doing here?" he asks then.

Liv takes a few steps across the room, looking at what he owns. "Oh, I felt like company..."

Ivar follows her closely with his gaze. He can't figure her out. Liv walks up to him and stops in front of him. She leans down to him and looks him in the eye.

"Don't you want my company?" she asks directly.

"I... Uh..." he stammers briefly, which throws him off.

"I can leave as well," she says, standing up again and walking towards the door.

"No!" he says quickly. "No. Please stay."

Liv smiles at him and then walks back towards him. She pulls a chair towards her and sits in front of Ivar, so they are at eye level. She is so close to him that her knees touch his, and she has placed them to the left and right of his legs.

"Tell me something about yourself, Ivar the Boneless. That's what they call you, isn't it?"

Ivar nods, slightly befuddled, then looks away. "They do..."

"You don't like the name? I think it's a great one. Not as boring as 'the feared' or 'the cruel'.  Most of the time, they don't live up to their names anyway, but you... You're different."

Ivar looks her in the eye again and notices that Liv is getting closer to him. Suddenly she puts her lips to his, and he enjoys it briefly before pulling away from her again.

Slightly ashamed, he looks to the floor and bites his lips. "I can't..." he says, turning away from her. "If you're looking for that kind of company, I'm the wrong guy..." he continues seriously, and Liv looks at him with a raised eyebrow.

"What are you trying to say? If I want to spend time with you, I want to spend it with you, not with someone else."

Ivar looks at her again, and Liv can tell he is incredibly uncomfortable. "I can't... I can't do this. It."

Liv continues to look at him without making a face. Ivar would have expected something else. Either she would laugh at him or feel sorry for him, but nothing of the sort comes from Liv.

"Have you also been told that a deaf person cannot communicate?" she asks, and Ivar does not know what she is getting at. She takes a deep breath and then moves closer to him again. "How many times have you tried? With how many women?"

"Only with one, and it didn't work," Ivar says quietly.

Now Liv begins to laugh softly. But it's not that she's laughing at him, but rather at his pathetic attempt.

"And that already tells you it can't be done?" she asks, kneeling before him.

She starts to undo his trousers, and Ivar grabs her wrists. "What are you doing?" he asks, irritated, but she grins at him.

"I'm trying to prove you wrong." Hesitantly, Ivar lets go of Liv's wrists, and she expertly undoes his trousers.

Ivar feels the lust rising in him and his body changing. She looks him in the eyes and then begins to massage him slowly. Her movements become faster and her grip tighter, but Ivar doesn't mind. Then she winks at him and lowers her head.

It is not long before Ivar can no longer hold on. His body tenses, and he opens his mouth. He tries to stifle a moan and then looks down at Liv, who is just breaking away from him.

She straightens up again, grabs a piece of cloth lying on the table, and wipes her mouth and hands before looking at him triumphantly.

"What did I say? I guess it all comes down to technique."

With those words, she tosses the rag back on the table, winks at Ivar one last time, and then leaves the hut. Ivar looks after her in disbelief. How is he supposed to keep his hands off her now?

The following day the time has come. The enormous army leaves for England. All along the docks, people are saying goodbye to their loved ones.

Liv walks towards the dock where her boat is moored and stops as she passes her brother's ship. It is right opposite hers. Lagertha is standing there with Björn, saying goodbye to him.

"Oh, how sentimental," she says with amusement, and Lagertha looks at her. As always, Liv has uncovered her sarcastic smile.

"I just wish him good luck on his journey, and may the gods watch over him," Lagertha justifies herself. "Wouldn't you like someone to say that to you?"

"I don't need that... I know the gods are with me. I don't need someone like you to tell me that. And luck is for beginners." Liv walks over to her ship and then looks at Ivar momentarily. "Hello, Ivar," she says, winks at him, and then hops onto her boat.

"Well, folks? Are you ready?" she asks the crowd, where her people are already busy making final arrangements for departure.

"Here you are," Sven says, coming up to Liv. "Where were you tonight?" he asks more quietly, looking at her.

"Oh, here and there," she replies, and her gaze briefly wanders to Ivar, who keeps looking at her.

Sven follows her gaze and glares at Ragnar's son. "Were you with him?" he asks, following Liv across the boat.

"Even if I was, it's none of your business Sven, understand?" she says more seriously now.

She is always very relaxed with her people, but if someone tries to undermine her authority or gets too nosy, she is good at putting a stop to it. Now Liv turns to her whole troop.

"It's finally time!" she shouts, then climbs a mast. "We are travelling to England, and we will avenge the death of Ragnar Lothbrok! Until now, you have followed me, and I hope you will continue to follow me! We are the Ravenblade! Du bekar! Du bekar!" shouts Liv, and her men and women cheer.

From the other boat, Ivar watches her closely. She is a true leader, and one day, she will be his.

With anticipation, Liv waits for her cue. It is a grandiose plan; she has to admit. The first troops of the great army get ready and line up. Then it's their turn. She stands up and leads her Ravenblade up the hill as well.

The shieldmaiden lines up not far from the sons of Ragnar and grins. She loves fighting and slaughter. She turns her sword once in her hand and draws the shield closer as Ivar stops beside her in his chariot.

He looks at her briefly but then directs his gaze forward. And then Björn gives the signal. Together they run off into battle.

After the battle, Liv climbs onto the chariot with Ivar. Behind him, they have tied King Aelle, and he is now being pulled through the mud by Ivar. Liv smiles triumphantly at Ivar and then looks ahead again.

As Ivar comes to a stop, the other sons of Ragnar lift Aelle out of the mud. Ivar also turns on his buck and watches while Liv jumps from the chariot. The Boneless One watches her movements closely.

She seems to be examining where they are when Björn asks Aelle about the location of Ragnar's death. The anxious king looks at a place where Liv is already standing, and she then points to the ground with a nod. She steps on the floor with her foot and notices wood under her feet. She pushes the leaves back and forth and then looks at the king.

"Is this the place?" she asks in English. Liv has learned many different languages on her travels. The king looks at her and then nods hesitantly. "This is it," she says to Björn, and he asks his men to open the hatch.

Together they look inside. Ivar has now joined them as well.

"This is the place where our father was killed," he says, looking at his brothers.

The brothers exchange a look, and then Aelle looks at Björn. "How much gold and silver do you want to spare my life?" he asks tremblingly. "Name a price! Anything, anything you want!"

Liv laughs out loud. She bites her lip and waits anxiously for her big brother's answer. But then Ivar interferes.

"You are mistaken! Our father was worth much more than gold and silver." Then he looks to the king. "That is not the price you must pay."

The king knows fully that he is done for and begins to weep. Liv, meanwhile, looks at Ivar, who returns her gaze. Again, a nasty smile creeps onto her lips.

Then Floki grabs the king by the collar and forces him to his feet.

"I was told that your god was a builder. And you don't believe it, but so am I!"

A little later, Floki nails the king by the hands to posts so that Björn has a clear path to his back. Liv knows precisely what is coming now. She stands in front of the king and looks at him disparagingly.

Then Björn tears the king's tunic off and cuts his back open. He cries out in pain, and Liv looks briefly at her brother. When he looks at her, she raises an eyebrow, then turns around and sits down on a tree stump.

Liv watches tensely, and suddenly she notices how Ivar is next to her and creeps closer and closer to the king. Blood splatters around with every blow of Björn's axe, but Liv doesn't care. She is covered in blood anyway. She sees the fascination in Ivar's gaze and watches him momentarily.

With each successive blow, the life drains more from Aelle until the king is dead.

"I didn't think he'd last this long," Liv whispers to Ivar as she leans down to him.

Ivar looks at her briefly, and enthusiasm is reflected in his eyes. He is probably more like Liv than she thought.

The following day, the lifeless body with its open back hangs over their heads, finally wiping the blood from its face with a scrap of cloth. Ivar sits with Floki on his back, and they all look at the pathetic king.

"Come on...  Another king is waiting for us," Björn says and trudges off.

Liv looks at Sven, who is eyeing her critically. She walks towards him.

"If you have something to say, say it," she demands.

The big man looks at her momentarily but then shakes his head.

"Thought so," she says, then follows her brother.

It's beginning to get on her nerves that Sven always looks at her with that reproving look.

[milbethmorillo]

Here it is❤️❤️ comfort sketch 😌 and yes I turned this cutie into a Tshirt and sticker which you can get at

https://www.teepublic.com/t-shirt/48568280-ivar-berry?store_id=185142

I loved that clip of Alex and the strawberries, it was so so cute!

[nothingtolosebutweight]

It's that time again and the creations made for the @vikingsbigbang will now be gradually unveiled. The story The Shepherd and the Lamb by the wonderful @heavenlymorals is making the beginning. It's a great narrative that certainly could have happened as an alternative in the series in my humble opinion. One that would have caused me to root for Ivar even more deeply, because I feel so sorry for the poor guy here.

The writer and I share a fondness for Ivar and Heahmund, so of course it was an honor and great fun for me to contribute something to this story. I really enjoyed trying out different styles, and I hope you'll enjoy them as well, and the story of course, too.

The story:

Summary: Instead of honoring their promise of sending the young heathen, Ivar, back to Norway, the royal family instead put him under the care of the warrior bishop, Bishop Heahmund, to shed his heathen ways.

The accompanying art:

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Which one is your fav?

[nukyster-blog]

Adrift Chapter 21) Little Pieces

Chapter 21) Little pieces

.-.-.

Utstott appeared slothful, inattentive even. The white raven had been fluttering his feathers in the shadow of darkness while his savior was mauled and mowed down, over and over. Utstott could have used his eye pecking abilities for good, it would have most definitely eased the damage done by the wild boar. Who knew; if he had interfered, Ivar may not have been burdened by more scars- the deep cut running over half his face still bled. 

Yes, Utstott could have made himself useful but he chose not to help. Because,as the bird knew, Ivar already bore many scars and the ones that ran deepest  weren’t those marking his skin. 

Without lifting a claw, Utstott had efficiently healed the worst damage between Piglet and Ivar. 

By now, Utstott knew Piglet’s moods weren’t for the weak hearted; her glare could cut mountains into two. But her greatest quality was her devotion. 

.-.-.

Valeríe ignored the familiar tug inside her stomach as she tried her best to be of use. She wasn’t squeamish of blood, not per se. But the amount she saw was enough to cause her to become ill. 

The sounds the cripple produced, the raw smell of adrenaline, blood and cold sweat; it all hearkened back to a place and time from long ago she vehemently willed to never remember.

And yet, the sound of his moans echoed the memory of her own voice from all those years ago. His face; ghostly pale and writhing, must have been a reincarnation of her own. The slight difference was the deep cut that tore into his lips every time he either blew out his cheeks or clenched his teeth to block the pain. No, not block, to endure the trial of either living or dying. 

There was a difference though; he endured because he had chosen to save another’s life. And she had endured to end one. 

Valeríe fled; one foot in front of the other, determined not to get sick right away. But once the sounds of the cripple no longer rang in her ears she desecrated the trunk of an old oak tree with the content of her stomach. 

The tears that stung her eyes were quickly rubbed away, because no, she could not allow herself to feel that pain again. With both her arms she cradled her empty stomach. She remained at the trunk of the oak until dusk started to settle and chill crept into her bones.

Her feet carried her back to the ox-wagon, but her mind wandered elsewhere and more than ever Valerié wished for a pitcher of wine, or any type of alcohol would do. 

And a good fuck, as long as it included a decent bed and propper pillows. Oh, how she missed the city of Troyes and all its residences and luxuries. 

“Can you make fire?” An order wrapped in a question made her anchor back in the midst of trees, blood and hostility. 

“At a fireplace, of course mone petite,” she sneered at the smaller maiden, “here in this shithole, no, I cannot.”

The other maiden glared at her as if she was an insect she just crushed underneath her bare feet and snorted. 

“I figured.”

“Be you did, Piglet,” Valerié retorted, pleased when the dark maiden’s eyes lit on fire as her name passed her lips, “oh he can be very talkative if you’re not around.” 

This struck more than a nerve and for a moment Valerié sensed an actual strike toward the face. Piglet’s shoulder twitched and hand probably ached. But here, in the midst of forest and wildland, were more than enough hairy, four legged foes. 

Whatever bad blood was between them, it had to wait. At least till dawn. 

Which was going to be a challenge, as Piglet nudged her shoulder into Valerié as she passed her, barking at her to watch him.

“Oh, I can do a whole lot more than that mon petite,” Valerié assured her, venomously. Puffing her cheeks, because the absolute nerve that little bitch had, she flopped down next to the wheelbarrow holding up the cripple in a sitting position. Oh, she’d fuck him out of spite were he not he such a bleeding, squirming mess of a man.

.-.-.

Valerié woke in a state of shock. Two firm thighs pressed against either side of her head, locks of her hair trapped under knees. 

Now, for a lady of the night this wasn’t something she wasn’t used to. The blade of a very sharp knife pressing firmly against the soft spot of her neck was new, though. 

Piglet towered over her, leaning in close,  applying pressure on the handle of the blade.

Valerié froze, sensing the blade would cut her if she tried to swallow the lump that nearly blocked all the air from her throat.

The white raven appeared in view, hopping around her face from side to side, jerking its head back and forth from her to Piglet. 

“I need you,” Piglet whispered, glancing down with a deadpan expression, “I need you, at least until he’s stable enough to travel,” she nudged her head toward the unconscious form of the cripple. 

“You fled today, do that again and Utstott will find you, I promise you he will. And if he does, I’ll wait until you are fast asleep and I will pin you down, like this, and I will watch him peck out your eyes.” 

To give her words more meaning, the white raven cawed and dug his beak deeply into the scalp of Valerié's skull. It punctured her scalp and as she jerked, the blade scratched the soft white skin of her neck. 

Piglet pushed herself up by her knees, allowing Valerié to grasp her neck and head.

“Oh, and it's your turn to watch the fire, I wish you a good night.”

.-.-.

About three hundred pounds of angry boar had run over him; its tusks mauled at his face. The moment unconsciousness changed to consciousness Ivar went rigid with agony. His back arched off the wheelbarrow when the pain hit. It branched across his chest like lightning, caused by the full impact of the boar against his ribcage. With eyes squeezed shut he winched, deeply moaned, and drew sharp breaths through his front teeth. 

She sang to him.

He sensed how she held his hand; with all the care in the world, the way she used to pet the wobbly legged lamb inside the dingy shed of the Castle of de Haar. 

And although the cuts on his face pulled sharply, he could not help his lips to curve into a smile. He felt a sudden flare of joy when he overheard her mumble hamar, and he felt a solemn sense of happiness. It was foreign and yet, familiar. It took him a while, drifting in between consciousness and unconsciousness to determine the feeling. 

It was to matter. It simply wasn’t more than that, to matter to someone else. To be missed, if he wasn’t there. To be important enough to stay.

He grasped her hand tightly as a cramp seized the muscles of his legs. He was dead set on riding it out, but all his senses diminished. He could no longer feel her hand hold his and he blacked out. 

When he woke up again he sensed a less calloused hand holding his. And although it wasn’t hers, Ivar still held onto it, like an anchor through the storm. The pain, it casted away all rational thoughts and after what felt like an eternity, Ivar prayed to any kind of God to redeem him from the nonstop, ongoing agony. 

He must have begged, or pleaded, because soft full lips touched his. But it wasn’t the release he craved for and with all the might he had he pushed her away. His weak attempt to create distance worked, yet the side effect was losing his only anchor to pull through. And so he was left all by himself to suffer through the endless stream of pain. He clutched his chest in agony, a fruitless attempt to cradle himself, banging the back of his scalp into the wooden frame of the ox-wagon’s wheel. 

As time passed, and he suffered alone, he prayed to his Gods to end the suffering. Not for death per se, but for release, for a humble delay in between the tides of pain. 

He overheard her call him, hamar, and then call him Ivar when the pain made him double over. The simple touch of her fingers brushed over his revived his spirit. Weak with gratitude he tried to speak, but it hurt too much. 

She allowed him to clutch her hand like a bear trap, up until he point he must be close to breaking her fingers. She simply sang. 

And that was enough. It was enough to raise his spirit and tide him over while the waves of ache tried their best to drown him. 

He clenched his jaw, as he grounded his body. One breath at the time, he’d endure as he always had done and always would do. And it hit him with the force of the wild boar; he no longer had to do it alone. He had an anchor wrapped in her gentle touch, and for that he’d endure ten times more. He suffered because of her, by his own choice and action. For the rest of his life he’d carry the scars on his body; hideous reminders of how he’d chosen to save her life and virtue.

Ivar did not fear a lot; but the acceptance of his own mind, everytime he put his own life on the line, petrified him. It went so against his nature and yet felt so common; as if breathing in air. 

His entire life; he’d felt out of place, out of touch. The enslavement had changed him; first it had crumbled him down, shattered him into all these little pieces.

And some of those fragments she’d managed to put in a different order, yet they fit together in ways he had never imagined. Her kindness and will to keep him alive unearthed traits he never knew he possessed. 

Piglet managed to make him feel.

And it did not matter how much he fought it; the urge to live up to her standard of a righteous man; well it manifested and grew to the point where he no longer recognized the person he’d been, once. What felt like a lifetime ago. 

Before, before, at times he couldn’t recall ‘before’ the Castle of de Haar. 

It hurt too much to speak and so he whimpered. In response, she held his hand a little firmer and she sang. 

.-.-.

A/N: So in this episode we have Valerie have a little meltdown, I am curious about your thoughts over this. Also in this episode Piglet being threatening for once, you go girl, everything for our poor cripple bastard. Poor Ivar, I just keep beating him up, but hey in order to rise… I like that in this last bit of the chapter he’s ‘showing’ us he’s coming to terms with the changes he’s been going through ever since the start of Changing Course. He’s different, still merciless at times and a complete berserker. But there’s also empathy, fear, kindness and sadness. I still fully believe he mourned the Fair-Maiden and Stum. 

And Piglet, she managed to get so deep under his skin.

I’d love to read your thoughts,

Xoxoxox Nukyster

The kickass beta: @sarahh-jane

The tagged ones:

@youbloodymadgenius

@xbellaxcarolinax

@saldelys

@shannygoatgruff

@pieces-by-me

@apenas-mais-uma-pessoa

@readsalot73

@lauraan182

@conaionaru

@sarahh-jane

@peachyboneless

@adhdnightmare

@khiraeth

@funmadnessandbadassvikings​

@ dekusdante  @neondragons7

@bitter-post-millennial​

@noway4u​

@tessakate

[woahhhgwendolyn]

Ivar Having A Crush On You Would Include...

Ivar having a crush on you would be so obvious to everyone. Everyone would always bring it up to him and make fun of him for having this crush on you because they thought that he would never be able to pull you. He would always fantasize about you and the things that you both could do together. He would always get really nervous around you and try and talk to you but could never make a full conversation with you because he is so nervous around you. He eventually gets over this and starts to make conversations longer with you and even gives you gifts quite often.

[popcorn1989]

Character: Many, but this is about Reader and Ivar

Words: 5608

Warning: 18+ if you are too young, please don't read it.

Honey, Honey, Honey and Sex

Summary: Ivar has promised Reader to go honey hunting with her. There is something between them, but neither is sure what, but they soon seem to find out.

Note: Been a long time since I wrote an erotic one-shot, but here we are.

I had long thought about whom to use for this. I choose Ivar. But I think I'll write one for the others too. (Maybe)

I just have too many ideas in my head.

*Note: Sorry, no beta reader

"What a beautiful day" you spoke as you tore open Ivar's room and walked in. A basket full of flowers in your hand. The room was dark and "What, you're still not awake" you say as you looked at the grumbling Ivar, face pressed into the pillow and the blanket pulled over his head. You put the basket on the table and went to the window and, with a flourish, you opened the curtains. The light of the sun flooded the room.

"Get up, you promised me we would hunt honey" as you arrive at the bed, Ivar grumbled again and turned his face to you "Tell me sweetie, how do you hunt honey? I said we were looking for some" he opened one eye and looked at you. "And what in all the gods do you want to walk so early? The honey is still in its place in the afternoon" he asked. You shrug your shoulders. "Only the early people get rewarded" you replied and as you went to grab his blanket he grumbled again.

"Oh come on Ivar, you promised, don't back out now" slowly you walked to the small table and looked at the deceased flowers that were in a vase, on the table. Slightly you shake your head, if you didn't bring Ivar fresh ones from time to time, no flower would ever decorate this room. You change, the bouquet, while you were closely watched by him, you notice his eyes on your back. You put the wilted flowers in the basket and slowly turn to him.

"We could also look for something else first" he spoke softly, you frown, "And what would that be?" you ask in wonder. "Hmm, how close we really are" you let out a short laugh as you grab the end of his blanket and pull it off his body. Blushing slightly as he lay naked in front of you, you throw the blanket back on him. "Forgive me," you say, turning around. "There's nothing to forgive, sweetie," he says, sitting up.

You were uncomfortable, even that he called you sweetie, even if it flattered you inside. You took the basket and slowly walked towards the door. "Where are you going?" he asked in surprise, "I'll wait for you outside until you're dressed. And hurry up, I don't want anything to get in the way. I want my honey today" you smiled slightly as he looked at you with a look of misunderstanding. He tilted his head, "You could help with" - "With what?" - "To dress me" he looked at you with his puppy dog look, but you just shake your head slightly.

"Hurry up, Ivar" - "But it'll be faster if you help me!" he yelled after you as you close the door. You lean against the door and smile broadly. You could hardly escape his charms, but you didn't want to make it too easy for him, after all, you're not like all the other women. You were a virgin, and you wanted the perfect moment for it. "Are you okay?" asked Aslaug, smiling as she walked past you, stroking your shoulder.

You nodded and went after her "He's stubborn, petulant and bad-tempered" you spoke trying to sound a little annoyed, but your smile betrayed you. Aslaug raised her eyebrows, "Hmm, that sounds like my son" she looked at you, and you both laughed. "Come with me, I want to show you something" she spoke and lightly pinched your upper arm. Aslaug was always fair to you, you were a free woman, even if you didn't really know where your path was leading you yet.

One day you wanted to finish swords like your father, but you knew that this craft did not suit you at all. Actually you wanted to be like Aslaug, but you were not born as a princess, but maybe one day you would be lucky and marry a prince. Together with Aslaug, you entered her bedroom, you looked around in amazement, so here she was sleeping and of course Ragnar, whom you always admired. Being here felt like getting closer to them.

"Look, that dress" she pointed to a dark orange dress and smiled at you. You put the basket on the floor, slowly you approached the princess and looked at the dress, it had beautiful embroidery on the collar, sleeves and hem end and the belt was amber. "It's beautiful" you spoke as you slowly stroked your fingers over it "It's yours, I was going to throw it away because it doesn't fit me anymore, but I think it would suit you, and it would be too bad for the dress" you looked at her with widened eyes.

"You're joking, you look just like you did the day you arrived" - "Pregnant?" - "No, no I mean Beautiful and…and…" you say quickly and put a hand in front of your mouth, you were afraid to say anything more that would make you look stupid. But Aslaug just smiled and ran her hand through your hair. "It's alright, if you don't want it then just say so" but again you looked at the dress and lifted it off the bed, as carefully as if it would tear any second.

"It's beautiful, if I may have it, I'll gladly accept your gift" - "Gift?" it came from ivar, as usual, you first looked up where there should be a head, but then you lowered your gaze. "You did it again" you shake your head and blush. Ivar, who was lying on the floor, narrowed his eyes "Of course, I saw it clearly" - "No I didn't" Aslaug started giggling behind you and that made you blush more.

You pressed the dress against your body and hung your head. "I gave her this dress" she spoke and embraced you, she grabbed the dress and held it in front of your body. "Hmm" came it from Ivar "If you would raise your head I could tell you if it looks good" slowly you raised your head, but you had an annoyed look on your face. "Nah, it doesn't look so good, but if you would smile" he said and a soft smile appeared on your face.

"Beautiful" came out of one mouth from Ubba and Ivar, Ivar looked up stunned at his brother who had just appeared in the doorway. "What?" asked Ivar in disbelief "I said Beautiful, look at her, the dress fits her perfectly" The boys started arguing, you rolled your eyes as you heard Aslaug "I told you it would look good on you" she whispered in your ear and giggled softly, she handed the dress back to you "Thank you my princess, thank you so much, how can I repay you?" You asked, she came a little closer again.

"Just do what you have always done for my son" she spoke and walked past the arguing boys, she smiled at you once more before she disappeared "Okay, okay… I get it, yes…. She's yours" you just heard Ubba say. "What?" you ask stunned, "I don't belong to anyone…" Ubba raised his hands apologetically and Ivar, looked at you questioningly, but he smiled.

"Put it on" he nodded at the dress in your hands. "And you, help me with my Greaves" - "At your command" said Ubba and went after the crawling Ivar, but he didn't miss showing you a hand gesture that meant you looked great in the dress. You smiled broadly, but it disappeared when you realized that you were standing alone in the bedchamber of Aslaug and Ragnar. You folded the dress and took the basket, then you went into the great hall, Ivar lying on the furs, by the throne and Ubba, putting on his Greaves.

You grinned as you heard the muttering Ivar and the grumbling Ubba, and decided to go to Ivar's room. No one would bother you, the two brothers were busy, and as far as you knew, Hvitserk and Sigurd were out hunting. At the thought of hunting honey, you grinned widely again. Wild honey was the best, only how do you tell Ivar that you were afraid of bees?

When you had changed your clothes, you walked unsteadily to the great hall. The basket in your hands again. You looked at the dress that clung to your body, the hem dancing with each step. "Ah, be careful, Ubba," cried Ivar, raising his upper body to look crossly at his brother. But Ubba looked to you and paid no attention to Ivar. He pulled again on the buckle and Ivar cried out another time, worriedly you looked at Ivar who just slapped Ubba one with the flat of his hand. "Huh?"

"I said be careful!" yelled Ivar and then looked at you as well when Ubba didn't take his eyes off you, his mouth was open. "Wow, now that, you should wear that more often than those wide dresses" he spoke and sat up. You smile at him and blush. Ivar looked at Ubba and his grin faded, he nudged his brother's head briefly, "Now don't stare, and close that last buckle"

"Beautiful," this one said and stood up, Ivar looked at him dumbfounded "Hey…" he shouted and pointed at his legs, but Ubba didn't react. He took the basket from you and placed it on the floor before grabbing both of your hands and spreading them out, so he could get a better look at you. Ivar groaned as he stood up "Well, if, Ivar, doesn't want to go looking for honey with you, then I'll be happy to come" you smile sheepishly as you look at Ivar, he had almost reached the two of you.

"I think he'll mind," you say, grinning broadly as Ivar moved to stand beside you, looking at Ubba with raised eyebrows. "Ivar, you didn't want to go out anyway. Outside the sun is shining" Now Ivar dropped his eyebrows and narrowed his eyes "Huh? I'll go with her, and you stay here with your hairy butts" he spoke and pulled your hands out of Ubbas. You grin slightly and put a hand on his forearm, he hasn't acted like that in a long time.

Ubba raised his hands "As you wish" he winked at you and walked backwards "And don't get stung" he pointed at both of you before turning and disappearing. Inside you the sentence caused pure panic, Ivar just laughed, "You're going ahead for a minute? I have to get something, it won't take long" he spoke. But you looked at him questioningly, what did he want now? But then you nodded when he started to smile. Slowly, you made your way out of the great hall. Somehow, you felt abandoned and out of place when Ivar took longer than he promised.

You lean against a wall of the house, looking all the time at the entrance, when you were already thinking that Ivar must have forgotten you, he came out and grinned cheekily. You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms in front of your chest, you really wanted to be angry. But when you looked him in the face it didn't work, so you looked away when he reached you.

"Don't be angry sweetie, mother wanted something, I couldn't refuse her request and besides I had to get something" he said and looked around. "Oh, what did you have to get?" you asked angrily. But he smiled at you again, he didn't take you seriously, that made you even angrier, but instead of reacting angrily you smiled too. You could beat yourself up for that. "I'll tell you later, let's go on the … hunt" he spoke and laughed up, now you had to laugh too, honey hunting, just sounded too good.

"I'm warning you" he spoke as you walked together down the road from Kattegat "This is going to be hard" - "What's going to be hard about it Ivar?" he smiled at you before looking back down at the ground watching his every step "If the bees see us they will take the honey, and fly away" you looked at him amazed "They do?"

He looked at you incredulously and grinned broadly "Yes, there are so many, they will all grab the combs and fly away with their precious honey" - "You're not serious" you said, dumbfounded. Again he laughed, "You're pulling my leg, Ivar" you said sourly and saw him nodding. "Of course, the worst that can happen is that they take off your beautiful dress and fly away with it" you looked at your dress and smoothed it.

Actually, you didn't want to encounter any bees. You swallowed slightly and looked at him, you could clearly see his smirk, even if he tried to hide it. "Honestly, Ivar, what can happen if we look for honey? He shrugged his shoulders "The bees could sting us and kill us ... then they eat us" you stopped, and he did the same, laughing again "It was a joke" he said when he saw your startled face. "But they can still sting" - "And that hurts?" you ask cautiously. "A little" again you swallow, no you didn't want to meet any.

It was beautiful in the forest, wild flowers were everywhere, here and there you caught some bees, Ivar always told you to follow them, they would take you to their honey, but they were so fast that you didn't even see them fly away. But you got a nice wild bouquet in your hand after a few minutes. "If you are thinking of putting them in my room too, forget it" he spoke as you came back towards him from the meadow.

"Well then I'll give it to Ubba, at least he'll be happy" you took a flower from the bouquet and wanted to put it in his hair, but he pulled his head away "What do you intend to do?" You looked at the flower, then back at Ivar, who looked at you bitterly, "She won't kill you" you said and put the flower in your hair. He smiled as he looked at the flower in your hair, and then he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you to him.

The sudden closeness to him made your body tremble, but when he tried to press his lips on yours, you backed away. But inwardly, you are annoyed that you reacted that way. He looked rather unhappy, "If you don't like me, tell me" he spoke and continued on his way. For a brief moment you closed your eyes and took a deep breath, so you could suppress your anger at yourself, then you went after him "That's not it" you said softly.

"No matter what I try, no matter how close I am to you, you always avoid it. I don't think you like me, and I'm beginning to wonder why you spend time with me" you looked up apologetically as he turned to you "Oh, I see now, you feel sorry for me. You feel sorry for a cripple" he spoke and his anger shone from his eyes. "No, that's not true Ivar, you are my friend" - "a friend…. Maybe Ubba should have come along better" he spoke and turned around.

"Ivar" you ran in front of him so that he had to stop. You wanted to say something, but you didn't know exactly what. "If you like me, then it's your part to show me now. That was the last try I will do" he spoke and walked past you, "Let's find honey" he spoke bitterly. You pressed your lips together and thought feverishly about what to say. You liked him, more than that, but you were a virgin and your first time scared you more than it should, after all it was the most normal thing in the world.

Slowly, you plodded along after him, your good mood blown away. If you lost Ivar because of your stupid reaction, it would hurt you a lot. "There are a lot of bees here…" he spoke, looking at the meadow as he walked, several bees buzzing back and forth, or settling on the flowers.

You stand next to him and take his hand. "I like you, Ivar. And I'm not around you out of pity, you don't need that" you spoke slowly and unsure. He turned his body to you as you kept talking, "It's just that… I'm…. Well I…" Hoof noises interrupted you and you both looked to the two riders coming towards you. Hvisterk, stopped, behind him on the horse, lay a deer. "Prey" he spoke, slapping the deer's hide. "Sigurd has some rabbits, we want to bring the loot home and then off we go again." Sigurd trotted past you both and made a gesture of greeting with his hand.

"And what are you going to do?" asked Hvitserk, who looked after Sigurd before his gaze fell on the two of you. "Hunting honey" said Ivar letting go of your hand, Hvitserk laughed, "Since when do people… hunt … honey?" - "Since today" Ivar spoke and smiled at you. "Okay, I won't ask …. But try up at our little huts" He pointed behind him and clicked his tongue as he set off to follow Sigurd.

Ivar grabbed your hand again as you looked after his brothers, "What were you going to say, sweetie" you turned to him and blushed, your heart began to pound. Again your body trembled as he came closer and closer to you. "Nothing," you say quickly, walking down the path Hvitserk had shown you. You hear an annoyed intake of breath from Ivar as he followed you. "Is this some honey hut?" you asked, wanting to break the uncomfortable silence.

"No, my brothers and I are there sometimes when we want to learn to take care of ourselves on our own. Or when we just want our peace" said Ivar, his voice emotionless. "But, last year bees built a nest in the cracks, of the wood, so not such a stupid idea, from him" You had thought to arrive there soon, but your way was much longer than you thought. Only in the afternoon you had almost reached the hut, unpleasant conversations and silence prevailed between the two of you.

You could see the hut from far away as you slowly walked up the mountain. Ivar spoke less and less, "My legs hurt" he said from time to time. "We are almost there, and you can sit down", you said when you suddenly stopped. In front of you stood a beautiful fox looking at you. Ivar, who had been looking at the ground, ran into you. He grabbed your arm so that he wouldn't fall over and looked around questioningly.

"Look, Ivar," you said and pointed your finger at the chance encounter. Ivar smiled as the fox sat down and licked his leg. You turned to him and smiled broadly at him. He looked deep into your eyes as his gaze fell on the fox again, "Look" he spoke and nodded to him. A butterfly had joined him, and the fox began to chase it. Ivar and you started laughing, he let go of you and continued down the path as the fox chased the butterfly through the forest.

You looked at him anxiously, he looked tired and exhausted. "Do you think we'll find honey there?" you asked and looked again at the little hut. "I don't know, we'll find out in a few minutes" - "I'm glad you're with me" you said and looked at him. He smiled and looked up "Oh, say that again" he spoke, "I'm glad you're with me" you said, and you gathered every courage in you and approached him, a little unsure and puzzled he looked at you, but he didn't back away.

Goosebumps appeared on your skin as you looked into his blue eyes. But just before you were about to kiss him, you lowered your eyes. He reached under your chin and lifted it, slowly approaching you. You remained as still as a rabbit in a trap as his lips laid on yours. You had no idea how it worked, but when you felt him open his mouth, you did the same and your kiss deepened.

But this uneasy feeling, the flight you feel, dragged you away from him. But he stood in front of you and smiled at you, his eyes glistening in the afternoon sun. "Why are you so red?" he teased, grabbing the back of your head, again his lips landed on yours for a brief but loving kiss. "Come" he spoke and walked towards the hut. He sat down on the bench in front of the hut and watched you examine everything. The small wooden house stood close to the cliff, various herbs hanging to dry under the small roof.

Slowly you continued on your way, and soon you were looking down the cliff, amazed you looked at Ivar who was massaging his legs with one hand. "Wow, what a view, the sea crashing against the rocks and the little island back there with the big trees" Ivar nodded "You better find the honey, I don't feel like staying here all night" he said showing his best smile. "You want me to look for it?" you asked, confused.

"Of course, I can't stand or take a step anymore" he said, and his smile disappeared. "But… the bees" he looked from his legs back to you, "So? Just say hello to them" you raised an eyebrow, "And then what happens?" Ivar laughed out "Then you ask if you can have honey" he looked to the hut and searched the small wall. "Maybe on the other side, try it" he spoke, twisting his finger as if pointing around a corner. You nodded, inwardly full of panic but not wanting to let on.

"Okay, stay here, I'll be right back" you said as you walked past him and put your wild bouquet of flowers into his hand, "Where am I supposed to run to? Do you really think I'm going to walk home while you stand on the other side of the hut?" Reaching the corner of the hut, you looked to him. "I never know with you," you said teasingly and rounded the corner.

It was in the shade and the cool air made you freeze in your tight dress. Honey, where are you - you thought as you searched the wall, but there was nothing here. You decided to look on the other side. There were bushes everywhere, trees lined up, and various flowers covered the ground. You hear the buzzing of several bees before you even reach the corner, your gaze tracking isolated bees. You circle them at a wide and safe distance. "Hello bees," you call out, waving at them.

"May I have the honey?" you asked them. Ivar dived to the side of the hut, leaned up against the wall and laughed, "You're serious?" - "You told me to do this" you said angrily. "They are bees…. Not people" - "Okay, know-it-all, what should we do then?" he looked at the swarm of bees and shrugged. "I'd rather do nothing," he said, waving for you to join him. You were a little disappointed and angry when you reached Ivar.

"Don't be sad sweetie, harvesting wild honey is not easy and impossible without equipment, let the professionals do it" he handed the flowers back to you. "But I'm sure they would love your flowers" he pointed to the swarm and walked back to the front of the hut. You looked at your flowers and then at the bees, slowly you walked towards them, that meant a couple of steps, then you put the flowers on the ground and quickly walked backwards and ran to the front and looked around.

Ivar was sitting by the cliff, leaning against a rock and looking out over the sea. When you reached him he grinned cheekily, "I think I've found your honey" With your mouth open you looked at the sea and nodded. The setting sun, colored the sea a honey hue, slowly you sat down beside him "Well, no honey, but this sight is still worth it" you said, taking his hand that was resting in his lap. "So you're not mad at me?" he asked, looking at you, you shook your head.

"It was a beautiful day and I got to spend it with you" now he smiled sheepishly. "I'm done for the day, we have to stay here, but we have plenty of supplies" he spoke before his eyes fell back to the sea. "No problem" you said, happy to be alone with him.

Before it got too dark, you went into the hut. Now you sat together in front of the small fireplace and talked. You laughed a lot, and he told you stories that he had experienced up here with his brother. You looked at him dreamily as he was about to tell another one:

"Hvitserk was so drunk and wanted to take a piss. He stumbled out, and we sat here for quite a while until Ubba looked at me. What is? I asked as he jumped up and ran outside. After a few minutes, he came back with Hvitserk in his arms. He really did fly over the bench outside and just lay there. Ubba then put him on the bed and Hvitserk slept through until morning. I asked Ubba how he felt it, and he just said that he felt it somehow. Really strange" he finished the sentence and looked at you with a smile.

"Brothers feel that" Ivar shrugged "Well, I haven't noticed anything and Sigurd hasn't noticed anything for a long time" you both laughed, but Ivar quickly became serious again "I'm sorry we have to spend the night here" he spoke quietly. You moved closer to him. It didn't bother you at all, in fact you hadn't felt this comfortable for a long time. And you were surprised at yourself as you wiped a strand from his face. There was a long, tense silence between you at your sudden touch.

Then you got up and sat on him with your legs apart, he raised his hands and looked at you, startled. "So… I… You know I…" you put a finger to his lips, "Hush, I just want to be close to you, Ivar." You grabbed his raised hands and placed them on your hips. He looked petrified as he looked at your hip "Ivar, I am a virgin" he looked up, stunned.

"I was avoiding you because I thought I was doing something wrong" you spoke the truth, and he smiled lovingly at you. "And I thought I was the one doing something wrong" you shook your head and put your hands on his chest. He took a deep breath, the fire reflected in his eyes. "You know I like you, I've always liked you" - "I know" you spoke as you moved closer to him and pressed your lips to his, slightly opening your mouth to deepen the kiss, the goosebumps were back with a vengeance, and you notice the desire for him growing.

Tentatively, he tried to feel your tongue with his, and soon they were dancing together. His hands ran up and down your back and lightly pinched your hips when he reached them again.

You moved your hips back and forth, which made him groan from time to time. "I…" you didn't let him say it. You had to bring down the wall inside him, only then would he see that he was capable of it. "I just want to be close to you, Ivar, don't stress you" you whisper in his ear as you hugged him. Your hands loosened his braid, and you ran your fingers into it, his hair was soft, and it smelled good.

A little surprised you notice Ivar's hands finding their way under your dress and up your legs as he suddenly pulled them back "Ohhh, wait…wait" he said pushing your torso slightly away from him "I'm an idiot, I got you something" he said, and you watched stunned as he rummaged in his trouser pocket. "Here" he said and showed you a small Glass, "Honey?" you asked incredulously and took it in your hand. "Oh, you had to get that, and you made me wait so long?" you said, and he nodded.

You looked at the yellow honey with a spice in it, then you started to laugh. Ivar looked at you sheepishly, "I didn't want the day to end without honey" he scratched his head and looked at you. You grinned at him and opened the small jar and smelled it, "Smells excellent" you said, and tapped with your index finger, in the honey. In front of him, you lick the honey off your finger. "Hmm, fantastic" you said as you held the pot out to him.

He swallowed and looked at you with wide eyes, you shrugged your shoulders and put your finger back into the little pot, As you tried to sit comfortably on his lap, you noticed how stiff his member was. Briefly you faltered, but then you slowly licked the honey from your finger, he on the other hand licked his lips. You started to move your hips, which made him groan, "I thought you couldn't" you tease him. You wet your finger with honey again and close the jar.

You put it next to you before stroking Ivar's lips with honey, not stopping to move your hips. His hands wandered under your dress again, leaving goosebumps on every place he touched. "Have a taste" you said softly as he opened his mouth and placed his lips around your finger, slowly you pull your finger out of his mouth and kiss his honey lips.

Your hands slowly moved to his trousers, and you opened them. As you grasped his member he moaned "I… didn't know…" he tried to say something between your kisses, but he quickly gave up. He grabbed your ass and yanked you around, amazed, you lay with your back on the furs. Ivar smiled at you "I want it to be perfect" he said slowly and ran his hand slowly over your breasts, belly and hips, he disappeared from your view.

But soon you notice his hands moving up your legs, pulling your dress up as he did so. He kissed and licked your inner thighs, and then he even a bite into them, and this made you let out a small moan. When he reached your womanhood, he caressed it with all the means he had. You moaned as you felt his tongue on your clit, and you bite your lower lip. "Please," you moaned as he slowly pushed a finger into you, but it didn't hurt, it was even pleasant, and soon you lost your fear and gave yourself to him.

After a while, he put a second one inside you and moved them in a rhythm. He knew what he was doing, you thought briefly, as a wave of sensation hit you. You grab his hair as you groaned loudly. Your body shook, intensifying the goosebumps you had had on your skin all along.

He lay on top of you and smiled at you, you kissed him and reached for his shirt, you wanted to feel him, his skin, his body. He reached under himself and pulled at your dress, you lifted your body to help him take it off. For a moment you felt small when he looked at you like that, but when he started kissing and touching your breasts, you felt comfortable under his strong hand.

He kissed your lips and with one hand he pulled his trousers further down. "Is this what you really want?" he breathed to you as he kissed down your neck. "Yes," you spoke easily. You notice his member rubbing back and forth in front of your womanhood, and it was driving you crazy. You just wanted to feel him inside you.

You reached down, but he stopped you and grabbed your hand "I am careful" he said and as he moved forward you put your hands on his back. Slowly he pushed into you, but soon you notice the pain, with a jerk he pushed into you and lay motionless. You cried out briefly, he caressed your neck and let his hand wander over your breasts. Only after a while, when he was sure that you had calmed down, did he begin to move.

It burned a little, but soon his movements gave you pleasure, and you let your nails run over his back, he moaned and kissed you, your tongues dancing together as he thrust into you again and again, getting faster and faster. You put your head back in your neck as you were about to reach your second climax. He pushed himself off the ground to have more movement. He was so deep inside you and filling you completely, you moan and grab his hips.

His thrusts were hard and well-aimed, and soon you were lifting your head and moaning in pleasure as you reached your second climax. You're trembling and writhing body beneath him made him come too. Exhausted, he lay down on his back beside you. "I… I'm in favor of staying here a little longer…" you spoke out of breath and you both started laughing. "We still have honey," he said, laughing. You lay your head on his chest and close your eyes. This day was more than perfect.

[bouncehousedemons]

Milk

Rating: E Pairing: (Modern) Ivar the Boneless x female character (second person, no use of y/n) Warnings: Smut, cunnilingus Word count: 450

Summary: Ivar hates milk. Until he tastes it on your lips.

Read the full fic here.

[sigridsdottir]

vikings + kids (1/?)

none of these pics are mine. if u want credit for any edits, please let me know! :)

[jesseworld666]

Just some sexy Ivar and Lagertha modern au aesthetic, forbidden love hate. She kills his mother, she's a high ranked woman and he hates her yet the sex is heated passion.